#this woman is a pretty big name from a pretty big agency too i trust she knows what has sellable appeal etc etc

[astramachina]

if there is one piece of advice that i could offer writers that aspire to get traditionally published, is that when people say the industry is wholly subjective, they are 100% correct and coming to terms with this is the difference between continuing on and just breaking.

whenever i'm not getting automated rejection messages, agents who actually take the time to explain why they're passing on the manuscript (a HUGE rarity but i've been lucky this round) makes you realize real quick that it really does boil down to "actually, i just didn't vibe with it".

i keep seesawing between wanting to scrap or keep my opening chapters, and so far it's been pretty 50/50 between there's too much going on, and, there's not enough going on on most of these rejections.

the most bewildering comment i've gotten so far was that there wasn't enough worldbuilding in the opening chapters. not enough worldbuilding. in a horror novel. a contemporary horror novel. something that goes against every standard regardless of genre.

like, zoinks scoob. it's all good. i'm confused, but we're chill about it.

[angrenwen]

"

The yellowed blue eyes under wrinkled lids swivelled down to focus on Sam, and the expression softened a little. “Yeah? Qualifies, does she?”

“Apparently she’s the queen of all canines. Thought she could make it as a superhero, then found out what’ll happen to the dogs who help her if she does.” Guarde sounded sympathetic, but tired too. “Didn’t think it through, like most of them.”

“Ah.” The old woman took her cigarette out of her mouth and blew a thoughtful stream of smoke right at Guarde’s face. “Well… all right, but don’t make a habit outta this. We don’t work for you, hero.” She made ‘hero’ sound like ‘bucket of asses’.

“Of course not.” Guarde nodded, then turned away. “Kid, trust me, this is where you belong.”

The rusty old door slammed, and the old lady sighed. “Come on, then, honey,” she said, a bit more kindly. “Let’s get you signed up.”  

“Signed up to what?” Sam asked nervously, shuffling along behind her as she headed down a dim corridor.

The old lady coughed a wet cough, then made a grumbling noise. “It’s like an employment agency.”

They came around a corner, and Sam saw a big sign over a set of double doors. ‘HENCHMEN AND ALLIED INDUSTRIES’ it said, under a jauntily grinning skull flanked by… some kind of club, and a syringe full of green stuff.

She stopped dead. “Oh, hell no! I am NOT joining the bad guys!”

The old lady stopped and looked back at her, clearly confused - then she glanced up at the sign and chuckled creakily. “Oh, that? Don’t worry about that, we’re not part of the union. We just rent office space from them.”

Sam looked from the old lady, to the sign, to the old lady, to the sign again. “… Henchmen have a union?”

“Sure they do, kid. You think you can find someone who knows how to source a fresh corpse or rough up a superhero just anywhere?” She resumed her shuffle down the hall, past the big doors. “And medical technicians willing to work on human cloning and that kinda thing are even harder, you better believe.” She turned another corner, and stopped in front of a much smaller door. “This is us.”

The sign over this door  was grubby and tilted a little to one side. ‘Unaligned Supers Job Placement Agency’ it said, in slightly faded blue letters. On the door itself, there was a smaller sign that said ‘Let Us Help You!’. It looked sort of sad in its attempt to be cheery, in that dim, grubby hallway.

But when Sam followed the old lady in, the office was pretty nice, as job agencies went. The walls were clean, with no peeling paint, the floor was clean-looking grey tile, and the chairs in the waiting area looked comfortable and relatively new.  There were even some potted plants, and a couple of actual windows. “If you want a coffee or somethin’, there’s one of those new machines over there.” The old lady waved at one corner, where there was a coffee machine, some tea things, and a minifridge. “And there’s soda in the fridge. Get yourself somethin’, then come over to my desk.”

Sam looked at the coffee machine, but no force on earth could have stopped her from finding out what kind of soda you got in a building owned by a henchman’s union. She was disappointed to see rows of regular stuff, when she opened the door - Dr Pepper, Coke, Sprite, the usual stuff. It got more interesting on the bottom shelf, though. “Pasito?” She pulled out the purple can and looked at it. “Small Step soda?”

“Nah, it’s passionfruit flavoured. We get it imported.” The old lady had lit a fresh cigarette. “Come on, come on, I don’t got all night.”

Given that it was after ten, and the office was completely empty, Sam thought she probably did have all night - but she didn’t want to make her mad, not with all those henchmen right down the hall. “Coming!” She hurried over and sat down, the purple can still in her hand. “Uh… I guess you’re gonna want to know my name.”

The old lady sighed wearily. “That’s usually the first step, kid, yeah,” she said with exaggerated patience. “Don’t worry about the wrong people findin’ out from us, though. Once you’re signed up with the agency, the supervillains’ll leave you alone… most of them. We’re unaligned, officially. That means the heroes and the villains are both supposed to leave us alone.”

“But not all the villains will… uhm… follow that rule?” Even some of them following the rule was pretty good, and Sam wondered how they managed it.

“Oh, yeah. You know how it is - every sorta people’s got a few assholes who just don’t care.” She rolled her eyes. “But the ones who hire from the union are pretty good about it, ‘cause the union likes us. We make sure the kids with powers who don’t wanna pick a side got other options, and they like that. Evil-Mart hires from us, too, and nobody wants Evil-Mart mad at ‘em.”

Sam stared at her, round-eyed. “Evil-Mart is REAL? I thought it was an urban legend!”

“Oh, it’s real. They’re where we get the soda.” The old lady gestured at the can with her cigarette. “Which you should drink. Sugar’s good for shock.”

“Oh. Yeah, I knew that.” Sam opened the can and sipped cautiously. Passionfruit soda was weird, but pretty good when you got used to it. “Okay. Uh. My name’s Sam.” The thin grey brows rose, and she blushed. “Samantha. Samantha Kim.”

“Samantha Kim.” She typed it in, on a surprisingly sleek, modern-looking laptop. From what Sam knew, most employment agencies had computers from the dark ages. “Power - commanding and communicating with…” She paused, taking a long drag from her cigarette and then looking over her glasses at Sam. “Dogs, or all canines? Have you tested it on wolves?”

Sam blinked. The matter-of-fact way of talking about her power felt weird, but reassuring too. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I tried it at the zoo. Anything canine. Dogs, foxes, wolves, jackals…. They’re not all as receptive as dogs, though. Dogs… like people, if you know what I mean. The others don’t. Some of them don’t mind chatting, and I can make them do what I want if I try hard enough, but it makes them mad.”

“Oh, sure. That’s the domestication.” She nodded, and took a sip from a cup of coffee that looked kind of scummy on top, and had to be cold by now. “Wild animals are always different.” She typed a bit more, and then paused. “Age?”

“Eigh - “ The rheumy eyes focused on her, and Sam shrank back in her seat. “Uhm. Sixteen.”

“Mhm. Try that on Guarde?”

“It didn’t work.”

“Of course not.” The old lady snorted, and kept typing. “Parents?”

Sam hesitated. “Uhm, my name is one thing, but - “

“Not their names, kid. Do you have parents?” The harsh voice softened a bit more. “Do you have a home? Do you feel safe there? We gotta know that.”

“Oh.” That was… unexpectedly nice, and Sam relaxed a bit more. “Yeah, I’m good. I live with my mom and my step-dad. They’re not around a lot, ‘cause they work, but they love me.”

“Good. That means I don’t have to find you a place to live, too.” The old lady kept typing. “I’ll restrict you to local and part-time job placements, for now. They gonna complain about you getting a job?”

“I already have a part-time job. They wouldn’t mind if I changed, though, if it pays better.”

“It will. We don’t let our people get exploited. You got a unique skill, you get paid what you’re worth.” She exhaled smoke up towards the ceiling. “From what Guarde said, you don’t want the dogs you work with gettin’ hurt, right?”

“Well… not hurt a lot,” Sam said awkwardly, then smiled ruefully at the surprised look she got. “I don’t mind them being, like, guard dogs or hunting and stuff like that. Not the ones who like doing it.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s like playing football, you know? You can get hurt doing that, but it’s fun. I won’t make dogs do stuff they don’t want to, but I won’t stop them from doing stuff they like just because I worry they’ll get hurt.”

“An unusually nuanced view for someone your age,” the old lady said dryly. “You like football?”

“They don’t let girls play, at my school, and I’m too short anyway. But I do a taekwondo class, ‘cause Mom said it was good for self-defense, and that’s fun even when I get hit.”

“Basic self-defense skills are definitely useful.” She took another gulp of scummy coffee. “You got a problem workin’ with nonhumans?”

“What kind?”

“Any kind.” She was staring over the glasses again.

Sam swallowed hard. “Uh… are there gonna be undead?” The grey eyebrows went up. “I’m Korean.”

“Oh, yeah. You guys got some impressive ones.” The old lady nodded and resumed typing. “No undead. That’s fair. Animal-human hybrids okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Anyone who’s… you know… people is fine. I’m just not down with anyone who wants to eat me. Body, soul, powers, whatever, I don’t want anything eaten.”

“Kid, we wouldn’t send you anywhere you’d get eaten. This is an employment agency, not a meat market. But okay.” She stubbed out the last of the cigarette and lit another one. “Any allergies, medical conditions or dietary restrictions?”

“Uh, I’ve got some pollen allergies, but an antihistamine usually fixes that. No other medical conditions that I know about. I mostly eat anything, but I really hate anything, like, leathery. I get dry mouth.”

“Pollen. Phone number and emergency contact information?” Sam gave it. “All right, that’s all I need.” The old lady creaked up out of her chair again. “Come over and stand against the wall, and take that ridiculous mask off.”

“Why?”

“For your Agency ID card.”

Sam followed her, but she didn’t take off the mask. “Do I need one? I mean… I know I told you my name, but - “

The old lady turned and glared at her. “Yes, you need the card. That’s why Guarde brought you here this late. That’s why she brought you here at all.” She jabbed Sam’s shoulder with a bony finger. “Kid, didn’t you hear what I said about people leaving you alone if you’re with the Agency? You’ve got powers. That’s valuable to all kinds of people, a lot of them the kind of monsters you never want to meet, and you were out there wearing a stupid home-made costume, which means you’ve been seen using powers and not being under the protection of any of the established heroes or groups. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? How close you came to disappearing into someone’s lab, or getting sold on some black-market auction?”

She growled, and it was an actual growl, not the growly noise fully human people usually made. Just for a second, her brownish teeth looked… jagged. “That’s why you need the card. You show that, they know you’ve got powerful protection. They know that if they want your power, they gotta pay. It won’t keep you completely safe, but it’s better protection than a twenty-four-hour armed guard, in this business.”

Sam felt cold all the way down to her boots. “I… didn’t realize,” she said in a small voice.

“A lot of people don’t. That’s what the Agency is for. For people who have powers, but can’t or don’t want to play in the big leagues, or who just don’t want to wind up in someone’s cloning vat. Once they’re with us, they can live somethin’ like a normal life, without their families being threatened or their DNA being extracted with a meat grinder.” She picked up a camera, and gestured at the wall. “Go stand over there. Don’t smile, just look serious.”

Sam did as she was told. Fifteen minutes later, she was holding a plastic card with her name, her picture, her Agency Number, and a bright red bar across the bottom that said she was a minor. “Uh… thanks. Really.”

“That’s what we’re here for, honey. Now, I don’t have anything for you right away, but I’ll list your skillset on our website and we’ll probably get some offers soon. You need a ride home? There are some union guys who drive for us if we need them.”

Sam shook her head. “I’ll walk. It’s not that far.” It was, but she wasn’t going to leave her dogs behind.

She pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and gestured with it. “This ain’t a good part of town, honey, you sure?”

“I left three of my regular, uh, friends outside. Two rott-pit crosses and a mastiff. They could probably take down a small tiger.”

The old lady actually grinned at that. “Smart. Dogs like that, you’re gonna look like trouble even around here.” Then she glanced at the dark window, and shook her head. “But it’s late. I’ll get one of the union boys to take you and your dogs home.”

The guy who came in a few minutes later looked like a henchman. He was huge, heavily muscled, and had a face that looked like it’s been scary even before the scars. “Whatcha want, Mavis?” he rumbled in a deep bass.

“Got a new recruit needs a ride home, Crank.” Mavis - that name fitted her so well it had to be a fake - jerked her thumb at Sam. “An’ I know you’ve got room for three big dogs in that van.”

“Yah.” He looked around. “Don’t see any dogs.”

“They’re outside waitin’. Kid’s got dog powers. Talks to ‘em and all.”

Crank’s terrifying face lit up. “You talk to dogs?” He unzipped his enormous leather jacket, and produced a dog. It looked like some kind of terrier cross, and for a dog being kept in a coat, seemed pretty happy. “Hey, can you tell me what’s making Trixie so jumpy lately?”

Blinking a couple of times, Sam turned to Trixie. Talking in dog wasn’t actually talking… they mostly communicated in body-language and smell, but if she dropped the meaning into their heads, they processed pretty well. Trixie was delighted to meet the Talking Human all the street dogs were talking about, and was pretty communicative. After a minute, Sam nodded and took a second to refocus her brain on talking human. “She says your girlfriend smells like The Bad Place.”

Crank frowned. “Huh? Pip ain’t a demon. Anyway, Trixie don’t got no problem with demons, long as they ain’t tryin’ to eat us.”

“Yeah, no, for dogs ‘the bad place’ usually means the vet. She a nurse or something?”

The scarred face cleared. “Oh! No, I know what it is, she works at th’ morgue. They use a lotta disinfectant.”

“… I bet they do.” Sam grinned. It was really hard to be afraid of someone whose dog was so happy and so devoted to him. “I’ll explain it to her on the way home, and she can meet Winken, Blinken and Nod.”

“They sound cute,” Crank said hopefully.

“They’re not, but they’re good boys.” Sam turned to Mavis. “Thank you… for everything.”

The old lady smiled again, and Sam definitely wasn’t sure she was human. “Forget it, kid. Stay safe.”

Note: Pasito is a real thing! It’s sold in Australia, where passionfruit is big and Spanish is not a commonly used language. It’s very nice."

We helped quite a few guys with Super Strength get into the construction business. I know this one Veterinarian who can speak with animals. Not everyone with superpowers wants to be out there fighting crime or robbing banks. That’s where our Job Placement Agency comes in.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Their Alright... For A Boomer

Masterlist

Summary: Being a girl with a larger chest always got you attention, maybe having your nipples pierced to try and fell more confident handt been the best idea, but how can you regret it when your latest client; the sexy Mr Cavill  was ogling them but could this end up being more then just that one time you were eyed by a hot celebrity?

Warnings: Suggestive, No Smut, Fluffy? Cute and funny, Swearing

A/N: this was a request from @fanficlover91​ i hope you like this hun, i tried to keep it hot but sweet and respectful? Which was a struggle but i hope i got the vibe you wanted. And as always i hope you all enjoy.

Taglist: In Reblogs.

You blushed as you looked down the lense at your model. He smirked sweeping his eyes over you non to subtly. You could feel the blues penetrating you with a hot stare. The was the distinctive fast clicks on you camera snapping a burst of shots managing to capture his smirking face and eyes sweeping over your form appreciatively.

You stood tall and smiled pulling away double checking the shoots. You bit your lip. Fucking hell this was both the best and worst job you had. Henry Cavill was the most enticing male you'd ever had the pleasure to photograph. He didn't even have a good side, every side was good! There wasn't an unflattering angle on the man!

"And that's a wrap? I think we have everything we need Mr Cavill" you said professionally making to move away from him and begin to swap sd cards and label them before packing away. Henry gawfed and rose quickly panicked almost.

"I- err no! Wait I was... Well hoping that I could have some more done?" he said chaseing you across the small studio you could hear his agent Leah scoff from the side lines. You frowned and looked to her nervously. The woman had been watching and tutting, scoffing and clicking her tongue through the whole session. It actually made you nervous, wasn't she pleased with the shoot? You were worried, being freelance this was your first time doing a celebrity shoot for a magazine but the usual photographer was in hospital having a stroke a few days prior and you were the only free photographer in the agency that was close enough to take the job. Sure you wasn't well known but still it was a little disheartening to have someone seemingly unimpressed with your work.

But it was when you eyed her you saw she wasn't giving you the evil eye. Her frown was directed at henry, a scolding look you'd give a misbehaving child. You frowned a little puzzled, but shook it off in favour of looking to Henry. Your actual client.

"More? I... I? Thought the piece only needed a few to choose from? They were very ah... How do I put it? Thorough? With the brief" you explained hoping Leah would step in and clarify just what was going on. Because you didn't have a clue.

"I yes but- I'd love to top up my portfolio? You know? I err yeah have a few changes going on and... I mean a few greys and such... Just want to update it a tad... I'll pay obviously- I'd pay anything for more time please?" he pleaded watching you closely eyes wide and bright full of hope.

"I... Err" you shifted swapping your camera from one hand to the other and craned your head around the man trying to spy his agent. But you had no hope of peeking around this gargantuan man. Just like with the camera he demanded your full attention.

"And for Instagram and stuff! There's only so much I can do in a selfie... I'd even recommend you- advertise your work!" he quickly added sounding desperate now. It would help you out if you did have a few shots of him for in your own catalogue. It shouldn't matter but having a celeb under your belt was actually a good thing. It meant you'd acted professionally and been good to work with.

"I suppose so, I do have a few extra sd's here... Tell you what I'll do another shoot for you as long as I can pick a few to put in my portfolio? Then we both update our files?" you nodded to him speaking slowly. He grinned and relaxed nodding quickly pleased with himself for wrangling more shots. You'd never know he was just glad to has more time with you.

"Oh yes absolutly! That's fine here should we get started now or?" he asked biting his lip trying not to stare at you for too long. But it was hard you were fucking stunning!

"Oh yeah sure iv got time, let me just sort these out and set up, need to switch, you've tired my poor camera" you said with a grin trying to ignore the man as he beamed at you looking excited nodding enthusiastically. You backed up and spun around trying not to blush as you felt henry gazing openly at you.

"Right well if the magazine ones are done I will be off then" Leah called packing up her bag with a small chuckle to herself. You froze and spun quickly seeing her seemingly abandoning you with Henry.

"Wha- oh you don't have to you can stay-" you tried to reason unsure why, I mean who wouldn't want to be alone with this huge glorious man? Maybe you just didn't trust yourself with him? He had been 'making love' to the camera all afternoon. Smouldering bedroom eyes that was making it hard to focus. You had been getting hot under the collar all day as you kidded yourself he was eyeing you, not the camera or would be readers.

It didn't help that you had caught him oogling your breasts earlier. But you wasn't mad, it was your own fault. It was the Hight of summer and you had on a string vest with a thin bra, that you could clearly see your nipple bars through. You didn't feel uncomfortable or anything, you didn't blame Henry for looking. You cant exactly ignore your tits.. The were pretty large for your frame. You were curvy but they were as one ex put it 'exceptional'. And besides he had looked not touched and he hadn't been a creep about it. In fact he had done a double take and then blushed when he realised he had been caught looking. But as you said you get that with big boobs, you'd had it your entire life, it was actually one of the reasons you'd got them pierced. It helped with your confidence and you convince yourself that they were looking at the bars. Not you per say.  

"Okay aunt Leah I will see you in a few days." henry interrupted you quickly smiling practically ushering the woman out the door. He moved fast ever picking the womans phone and juice bottle to help her leave quicker.

"Yes, behave Henry I'll see you soon" she said with a giggle before calling a thank you and goodbye over her shoulder at you. You swallowed nervously and gave a quick bye as the door clicked behind her and you were left alone with Henry. The man groaned stretching as he spun around a huge grin on his face, making your knees tremble a little. Fuck.

Henry came over and watched you closely as you scribbled the name and date along with the publication name on the sd case label. You tried not to notice as he hovered biting his lip then took off the blazer and threw it on the table beside you drawing your attention as he did grunting a little. The v neck letting the smallest amount of soft looking chest fuzz that had been teasing you all day. He grinned slyly as he caught you eyeing him and crossed his arms over his chest flexing for your benefit. You gasped and quickly looked back to the camera in your hands inserting a new scarf into the new fully charges camera.

"Soo how do you like this kind of work?" henry said casually trying not to seem like a creeper but god damnit he couldn't stop eyeing you. If he had known how sexy you'd be he would have demanded to be doing a bloody swim wear shoot!

"You mean people?" you stuttered trying not to look him in the eye. Not that it helped because the rest of him was just as fucking sexy! You quivered all over desperately trying to remember how to breath, yet didn't want to draw in too deep a breath and make your tits bounce for him and look like a slut. There was a very fine line for a big busted girl, to much wobble will make you look like your trying to get attention.

"I mean celebrities, magazines we were told you mainly do private shoots for events and model portfolios" he offered leaning forward as he leant back on the desk next to you hooking one ankle behind the other. The way he stood placed his crotch in your line of sight as you looked down and worked on setting up the camera. You flushed. Oh god he looked er... Bigger then you'd thought earlier, not that you were looking but... Well you couldn't help notice the package! The man was a fucking serial man spreader! And that thing was huge! With the muscles he was packing he could probably bench press you with his crotch!

"Oh well its different... And you sir popped my celebrity cherry" you froze on the spot as you said that, it had meant to be an ice breaker, a joke but instead had sounded fucking creepy!. You snapped up to him making to apologize as your face flamed mortified but he had thrown his head back laughing. The deep rumble sent chilled down your spine.

"Well I'm honoured to have popped your cherry~" he teased placing a hand over his heart with a cheeky grin making you blush and nod then turned to him with the new camera all set up.

"Soo where do we start?" you said moving on quickly looking up at him trying to forget the whole cherry comment.

"Where ever you want me, i will let you take the reigns command me as you will" he chuckled standing tall once more and looked about the room casually to the various small set ups, different furniture, seats sofas and mini tables dotting the space.

"I... Okay then you said Instagram? How about we start with some facials-FACE SHOTS! Face. Shots. Not facials fuck. Shit" you quickly tried repairing the damage whist cursing yourself wanting nothing more then to be swallowed up by the floor.

"No, no love facials sounded perfect~" he said winking before gliding past you making you stutter and almost choke on your breath. Oh good lord this was a bad idea. You followed as he sat down on a sturdy sofa and looked head on at you and bit his lip once again watching you with a sultry look.

And that was the beginning. You followed him about taking various snaps whislt having small talk. He seemed to be very flirtatious as he spoke, dropping lines and compliments as he made eyes at you. You flushed each time clamming up at his suggestive comments. And rightly or wrongly you flirted back trying to seem cool and suave. But inside you were fangirling unable to belive you were here with this incredibly gorgeous man teasing one another. On a few occasions he even growled as you scampered about him, crouching and taking shots from blow getting some delicious angles that dampened your knickers. Then in between all this he managed to get little tied bits. You'd told him you were on agency freelance and were trying to get into the social media platform as it seemed easier in this day and age rather then to be in fashion photography. You wanted to be commercial not private but no one would really take a chance anymore.

Then you suggested a few shots on the sofa laying back trying to think of something different for your portfolio, maybe a body length shot. He was quick to agree and dived onto the sofa saying he had an idea you swallowed nodding not fully trusting the look in his eyes. But that was forgotten as he relaxed stretching out over the sofa legs crossed and resting on the arm of his hands behind his head and a devilish smirk looking down the lenght of his body. You knelt at his feet trying to get a flattering image of him looking down but cursed as the camera wasn't playing ball. The lense was focusing, this was why you used the other one first, the camera had a few issues and was temperamental.

"What's wrong?" he asked frowning a little at you as you growled pulling the camera away fro your face and began trying to manually focus the lense.

"Oh its.. It wont focus.. It does this sometime, really need to throw it out but.. She was my first I'm sentimental" you said feeling silly as you battled with the camera.

"We all are with our firsts... How about you come closer instead, I really want to see this shot, never done one at this angle.. Out of all my shoots your the first to suggest this~" you froze and looked to him but he just smiled impishly at you. Slowly you rounded the sofa and leant over him positioning the camera at his stomach as he looked right into the lense giving you a definite bedroom eyes, half lidded and burning. Both dreamy and amazingly sexy. It was as if he could see you beyond the lense, as if it wasn't even there!

"You can come closer love, I wont bite, not if you don't want me to~" his voice was low and teasing, luring you in like a siren. You trembled and moved along him but he tutted and moved a hand to your hip and pressed, coaxing you onto the sofa and sat you on him making you straddle him. You gasped squeazing your camera tighter as he moved you easily, warm palms holding you both delicatly and firmly. You could see in his eyes he was weary unsure if he had gone to far but you squeezed him between your thighs and relaxed making him grin up at you getting the message you didn't mind at all. You aimed the lense at him once more and got the shots you wanted.

"Perfect! Mr Cavill" you said actually a little sad that this session was over. It had been nice playing this little cat and mouse game with him. But all good things come to an end.

"Ah now i have a policy love, when a womans on top they can call me henry, among other things~" he said smoothly laughing as you chuckled nervously fiddling with the camera in your hands and shifted over him a little.

"I will try to remember that for next time boomer~" you teased managing to overcome your nerves as you pulled away the camera with a giggle winking at him as he stuttered. For a second you thought you'd gone too far but a quirk to his lips made you relax once more.

"That hurt, that was hurtful" he teased pouting not releasing you from his lap, instead holding you tighter, fingers digging into your sides making you gasp and bit your lip as he pulled you to his crotch and ground into you teasingly.

"I'm so sorry~" you uttered breathless trying to keep yourself together. But this man was something else, like a drug- the devil all fanged smiles and smooth words. God you were fucked, you knew this man could do anything to you and youd thank him for it~

"I doubt that" he cooed and slid his hand higher growing more and more confident. The last few hours of casual flirting had built up his appitite. There was no misconceptions, you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

"Oh yeah?" you said coyly tipping your head to him playing along willing for this to happen, whether it be a one of fuck or something longer. You didnt have any complaints~ this was your body and youd enjoy it with who ever you wanted to!

"Yeah prove it!" he hissed and moved quickly sitting up and swinging around planting his feet on the floor. You yelped as he moved surprizingly fast and managed to keep you in his lap now face to face with you eyes roaming your face settling on your lips.

"And how should i do that" you teased tilting your head skimming your lips with his as you spoke. He groaned and held you tighter making you whine breathlessly willing this to happen. You wanted him and you wont deny yourself the chance.

"Make and old mans day" he said plainly and leant back resting on the back of the sofa, you watched him closely and brought your hands to his shoulders prodding at the neck of the t shirt and drew your fingers down slowly feeling him shiver at the light skimming fingertips.

"Oh really Boomer? And how would i make and old mans day?" you teased once more making him grunt but he quickly caught himself as your fingers smoothed over the teasing curls that peeked over his top. You scratched over them lightly with your nails making him draw a needy breath and chuckled at him. He was sexy and cute~

"By accepting a job offer?" he said before smileing smugly as you paused and frowned. Had you missed something? Was he after a freebee?

"Job offer? Really another shoot?" you snorted suddenly not feeling sexy, more like he was trying to butter you up for some fuck for parts shoots or something. He sighed and began speaking before you could get yourself all twisted. But then again you could have taken his offer wrong.

"Manage my social media. I have many companies and brands reach out to me for endorsements. They want me caught wearing their brands. But I'm to busy most of the time I cant make it to the locations they want. It actually doesn't seem worth it most of the time, with cost of flights and time lost travelling to and from studios itd be easier if I had my own personal photographer that travelled with me its be easy, slip on the clothes and what not take a few snaps and then you touch them up and post them on my social media." he explained watching as it sunk in that he wasnt trying to pull a fast one. Well he was but not trying to fuck you over... Just fuck you... And keep you because you were fantastic and he wants nothing more then to have you around hime as much as possible. In the single dat he had spent working with you, you had enchanted him, not only were you sexy but you were good at your job and easy to work with but also funny and cute and he needed to get to know you.

"Of course its a very big venture and we'd have to have a few dinner and lunch dates to work out all the nitty gritty" he added after a few beats of silence trying to make it clear he was interested... Very interested~ it worked as you fluched and a playfull look donned your face your fingers began stoking his chest hair once more. He relaxed shuddering under the nails as they teased his curls.

"Is this a big ploy to get a date Boomer?" you purred his new nick name making him groan when you squeezed him between your thick thighs once more grinding on him and the considerable bulge below you that twitched.

"No... Maybe is it working?" he said quickly hissing at you shifted in his lap once more, his hands snapping to your hips trying to still you before he came undone in his boxers. You were a very dangerous woman and something told him you knew.

"Well it sounds like an offer I'd be very, very interested in taking further~" you clarified giggling when he swallowed dryly and eyed you surprized that his plan had seemed  to work.

"Good to hear~ so got anything planned after this?" he asked feeling a wave of confidence at the prospect of snagging a date with you. He hadn't meant to sound so eager but... He was eager and that was that.

"Yes" you said with a straight face and got up off of him spinning around heading to the table with your camera bags. You gave him a glance and giggled seeing him still sitting there gobsmacked legs wide open and his crotch that was now definitely bigger then it had been earlier.

"O-oh" he stuttered seemingly unsure how to proceed. You giggled as he fumbled over his words. Then decided to grant him some mercy and began speaking whilst popping out the sd card from the camera labeling it like the previous one.

"You see I had a very cheeky client today who asked for a shoot last mineut. But I wasn't to bothered he was very very sexy even if he was a boomer, but get this out of nowhere gave me a job offer? And we're having dinner- he promised pizza~" you giggled glancing at Henry as he slumped in the seat realising halfway through that you were talking about him. He smoothed his hands over his face and jumped up coming over to you shaking his head.

"You know I'm not actually a boomer?" he quipped folding his arms. You rolled your eyes at him as you packed your stuff away making sure to recheck everything.

"Have you seen your selfies? Your a boomer, boomer" you teased making him scoff but laugh at the name that has now stuck.

"Wait you've seen my selfies? What do you think?" he asked wanting feedback on the silly shots he took. You paused halfway through zipping up your bag and turned facing him fully giving him a thoughtful look then shrugged

"Their alright... For a boomer" you giggled when he preened for a second then his face dropped into a pout when you finished the comment.

"I repeat...That was hurtful" he said covering his heart with a kicked puppy look making you laugh and hoist your bags over your shoulder and make for the door with him hot on your heels.

"Its fine boomer a second date will make up for it I'm sure~" you sniggered at him playfully looking back at him as he followed you out of the door.

"A date for each time you call me boomer? Deal" he quipped walking along side you offering you his arm like a true gentleman unlike the teasing horny little shit he had been all day. Not that you minded either. Gentleman on the streets, freak in the sheets and all that jazz.

"God we may aswell marry now then boomer" he laughed nodding in agreement the banter from the day still in play as you both left the building.

"Seems so, I mean were at ten that's what the kids consider boyfriend girlfreind territory" he anounced with a sigh playing on the 'boomer' joke making you giggle and roll your eyes as he mentioned the tally. Then you frowned and quickly counted your 'boomers' and opened your mouth you correct him, arguing that ten was incorrect.

"I think its nine boomer- ah see what you did their sneaky boomer!" you cried pushing him playfully at his little trick. He roared with laughter and quickly tangled his fingers with yours dragging you back alongside him guiding you down the street towards a place he knew served pizza, he didn't remember but apparantly he promised pizza...

[the-bat-collector]

SUPERBAT Rec List!! AU NO POWERS ish PART 1

I love NO POWERS NO CAPES AUs but its been so hard to find them!! so decided to make this list to help y’all in your search  :D

The length varies, but I prefer long fics so most of these are 10-20k up to 200k 

Heart and Soul by Pandamomochan

E - 150,044

Clark Kent used to be a renowned composer who was said to be able to write masterpieces that were designed uniquely for each individual player. Famous musicians around the world would flock to him in hopes that he would write for them because his pieces were always said to bring out any player's crowning performance. That is, until one day Clark loses his wife in a tragic accident and decides never to write again.

Years later, Clark's son, Jon, gets admitted to the famous "Gotham School of Performing Arts". It is there that Clark meets Bruce Wayne, a strict, uptight, by the book piano instructor who is said to be able to craft the best musicians around the world.

this is one of my favorites. I'm not really into Hurt/Comfort but this is so beautiful!! highly recommended I'm biased cause I play the piano

Seeing Bruce Wayne by Evilpixie

E - 15,089

Clark Kent is the only male midwife working in Metropolis General. Bruce Wayne the residential pediatric surgeon.

I'm so into medicine/doctor AUs this is also one of my favorite fics!if you have to pick one from this list, pick this one!!!

On The Cusp by vesper_house

E - 47,378

Clark's life isn't going so well. He's in his thirties, he works at a coffee shop run by his old crush, his journalism career is going nowhere, and he's broke. It takes only one tall, dark and handsome stranger to change everything.

COFFE SHOP AU COFFESHOP AU!! We need more of these, the dynamic between Bruce and Clark is Great!!!!

A Game You Can't Win by NightFoliage

T - 78,328

Injustice is the hottest MMORPGs available to play! Set in a world where superpowers exist, players can become civilians, heroes, villains, and anybody in-between. Designed by Hiro “Toyman” Okamura, and Timothy Drake-Wayne, Injustice was created with the best Wayne Industries technology available and has the most human NPCs. The game is beyond it's time and is planned to be at the top of the charts for a while.

By accident, Clark finds himself pushed into the spotlight and new found fame. To him, Let’s Plays are a means to stay in touch with friends and to make money. He never got into LPing to become famous.

Bruce, who funded the game after Jason’s accident, is irritated (not jealous) that a video game player is such a big topic among the kids. After the nth time they mention him, Bruce decides to take matters into his own hands and see what all the fuss is about.

link to art

ONE OF MY FAVORITE SUPERBAT FICS OUT THERE!!!!!! this is great and fun and Clark is the best!

As We Grow by butterflyslinky

E - 23,451

Clark Kent is a farmer deep in debt to Lex Luthor.

Bruce Wayne is a billionaire with seven children and no luck in love.

But their families have a scheme to get them together and hopefully make life a little bit better.

Modern Medicine by BuckinghamAlice

G - 5,208

Pediatrician Dr. Clark Kent becomes beloved to his patients, the Wayne boys... as well as to their doting father Bruce.

ABSOLUTELY lovely and adorable, you get the feels!

Hellooooo, nurse! by weirdraccoon INCOMPLETE WIP

T - ?????

Clark enjoys his job at the Free Clinic. He loves helping people and tending injuries. Saving lives. But this man... Bruce Wayne is going to kill him if he doesn't get killed first.

Bruce is still Batman on this one but HERE ME OUT, Clark is a nurse! is incomplete but looking forward to the following chapters!!

Two Cities by EllenD

E - 96,152

Clark Kent, is simply Clark Kent, junior reporter for the Daily Planet who moved to Metropolis from Smallville with big dreams. Bruce Wayne is a billionaire playboy from Gotham, who also happens to be Batman. They meet, date, and fall in love, though not without hurdles because mild-mannered Clark is also socially awkward as heck. But when the most dangerous criminals in Gotham are gunning for Batman, Clark gets caught in the middle of it all. (He's basically Batman's Lois Lane) Meant to be set in the Dawn of Justice movie universe, but also draws inspiration from video games, comics, and those awesome Batman cartoons.

This is part of a series, but this is the main fic of it. Love this trope of Clark is just a civilian and Bruce is Batman. Warning this fic does contain disturbing topics so read the tags.

Here Comes the Sun by batsy_rocks

T - 18,815

Clark Kent is a kind-hearted reporter working in the big city. Bruce Wayne is a stressed dad of four with no idea of what he's doing.

Then they meet.

Seasons of Love by littlechinesedoll

G - 4,603

Clark Kent took over that farm at the edge of the Town of Smallville. He likes Smallville's resident doctor, Bruce Wayne.

The best gifts for Bruce are ginger ale, salad, coffee, and any kind of flowers. He hates gems, and bars of copper, silver, and gold.

Petals and Ink by drunkraiinbow

T - 12,976

With a new kid joining the family, Bruce tries a new tattoo artist to continue the tradition of adding them to his sleeve, but he won't trust just any artist. Clark manages to win him over with his incredible talent and his farm-boy friendly demeanor, and he may even have begun to win Bruce's heart. However, Clark might have a few things to learn first.

FLOWER SHOP TATTOO PARLOUR AU! what else is there to say, this is extremely cute and a fast read! :D

Faceless Killer by Batsymomma11

E - 51,519

Detective Bruce Wayne from the GCPD and detective Clark Kent from the MPD have been asked to create a joint task force in an effort to catch the John Doe Killer that has been ravaging their sister-cities. Aside from their long-standing animosity towards one another, it should be a breeze to work together. Besides, lives depend on them getting along.

They never expected they'd trip headlong into a romantic entanglement that feels a lot more serious than even the killer they're chasing.

The Tailor by maderi

E - 16,026

When Clark is assigned to cover the Wayne gala, he finds himself in need of a professionally tailored suit. His tailor though is drop dead gorgeous, which brings up a lot of awkward situations during their appointments.

Heroes of the Squared Circle by Mithen

M - 226,687

They've gone by many names: Billionaire Brucie, Country Clark, the Kryptonian, the Dark Knight. But no matter what their stage names are, one thing has always been true: Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are the world's finest wrestlers.

Six's a crowd by Untoward INCOMPLETE/ABANDONED

G - 10,133

When Alfred has to make an emergency trip back to England, Bruce soon finds out he can't manage running a business and taking care of six kids all alone.

He turns to a nanny agency for help, and is astonished when he finds Clark Kent, who seems like he can handle anything.

Clark not only can take care of the kids incredibly well but seems to be breaking Bruce's walls down rather well too.

After Hours by ????

E - 3,175

At the end of a long semester Clark can't hide his attraction to Professor Wayne any longer. Grad School AU.

This is practically a one-shot, not really my type of fic but worth adding!! Haven't come across this professor trope in Superbat so if you got any recs, send them my way!

Wings and Fangs by DanielleN3

E - 17,224

Clark thought he could never fall in love with anyone, especially not after being alone for such a long time… but all of that changes when he encounters a sexy vampire in Gotham.

TECHNICALLY they both have powers in this one but there are soooo different from cannon that I think this fic still qualifies for this list

thirteen by CapnWinghead

T - 22,890

Drowning in student loans, Clark Kent takes a summer job as the Wayne family nanny.

OKAY. so this is not entirely NO POWERS, but I mean Clark is a NANNY so this is great! TRUST ME

Kiss me, take my breath away by J_Jubilee

E - 37,934

There were legends about Gotham Reef. Legends that said it was haunted by a beast of foul temper. Stories told of a ravenous sea beast that feasted on the flesh of men, and was said to be more hideous than Satan himself. Others told of a woman with eyes that glowed like gold to lead sailors to their death. Some even spoke of a witch that cursed men and wreck their ships, taking all their treasures with it. When Clark’s catamaran is wrecked by a terrible storm, he learns that the stories were oh so far from true.

Baby Bats by AlmondRose

G - 4,003

this is a short series of adorable and simple domestic fluff

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Haven't read this one but heeey the art is sooo pretty soo decided to add it anyways

Dragon Heart by Hells Angel 921

T - 27,660

Kal wants to make up for his past.

Bruce tries to move on with his future.

They eventually meet in the middle.

link to art

I didn't know that Dragon/DragonSlayer was a thing but hey... apparently it is, so here it is.

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hehe and so my rant ends here! let me know if you know fics that fit any of these tropes! I’m all ears

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Human (Natasha Romanoff)

Human: Chapter 1

A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC. For the sake of this fic we’re going to pretend that the Battle of New York lasted quite a few hours.

*This is my first ever fic and I wrote it at 3am so bear with me

WARNINGS: swearing; mentions of weapons; violence; panic attack; anxiety; my crappy writing; and I think that’s it (lmk if there’s anything I should add)

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012:

The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in my brain before my eyes even opened. I didn’t need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am— the same time I've woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of my life. I no longer need to wake up this early, yet it’s a habit so deeply engrained in my framework that it’s seemingly unbreakable. I roll out of bed and make my way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math I figured that I got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that’s more than usual. I started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, “Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?”

The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of me and responded, “I wouldn’t mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I was here.”

“Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?”

“You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight.” I slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat. 

“Then we’d better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment.” He simply chuckled in response and I could already feel my patience wavering.

Two Hours Later:

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?”

“Yeah, it’s a mouthful. Trust me I know.”

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there’s no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus.”

“It’s technically an extra-governmental spy agency-“

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not joining,” I said, cutting him off.

“So, you’re just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn’t seem like a great life.”

“Better than the one I lived before.”

“You aren’t the person to live in hiding. You’re the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it.” When I didn’t respond he continued, “I’ll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you’ll know where to find me. You don’t have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight.” With that he slid off the stool and left my apartment, leaving me with nothing but my rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:

It had been four months since Director Fury came to my apartment in Barcelona. We’d kept in contact and he hasn’t given up on me joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. I'm living in my third apartment since then. Wow…those landlords must really hate me. I was watching the seven o’clock news when I saw something that made me choke on my Cheerios. “An alien invasion?! What the fu-” My Cheerio-muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of my burner phone. “Hello?”

“Eight, you watched the news recently?”

“Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?”

“Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes… aliens. I’m forming a team of…extraordinary people to help protect against these threats and they could really use a hand to finish off this fight.”

“I may be weird as hell but I ain't ‘extraordinary’, Fury. I don’t wanna join your band of misfits.”

“Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don’t wanna join once the battle is over, you can go right back to France and I’ll stop bothering you about joining.” After a few seconds of silence I agreed. 

“Fine, but I’m not gonna change my mind. Wait, how do you know about my jet?”

He gave a hearty laugh and said “I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now.”

New York, New York; 96 Minutes Later: 

I flew my jet into the city, making sure to take out a few flying Chitauri in the process. We don’t need to talk about how I got my hands on a German jet that can fly 2100mph. I saw a few interesting characters standing in a circle fighting off an endless sea of aliens. I maneuvered the jet and— wait…is that guy wearing blue tights? Is this what Fury meant by extraordinary? Whatever. I landed in the street about 20 yards away and killed the engines. I hopped out and started jogging towards the group. A couple of them turned around, probably wondering who the hell the chick in the black uniform is and— whoa that’s a beautiful woman. After realizing my steps had literally faltered in a mini gay panic, I slowed to a walk and said “Y’all need a hand?”

“Depends on whose hand it is,” replied the redheaded source of my panic.

“I’m a friend of Fury’s. He practically begged me to come save your asses.”

“Fury doesn’t beg,” she said in a doubtful tone.

“Not typically, but I'm just that awesome. If you don’t believe me then call him up but I’m gonna go kill some aliens.” With that I took off down another street where there was a group of the repulsive bastards. After unloading all of my magazines into Chitauri bodies, I switched to my swords and daggers. After another hour or so of fighting, there were no more aliens in sight. I started jogging toward the rich dude’s tower when I saw said rich dude falling through the rapidly-closing portal. I stopped next to Mr. Blue Tights and the buff blonde guy with the hammer when the big green dude grabbed Mr. Rich Dude from the sky and landed next to us. The green guy yelled, waking Mr. Rich Dude up with a start. “What the hell? What happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me. Except for her, she’s pretty hot,” he said nodding toward me. Just then the redhead jogged over to us and eyed my blood-soaked form from head to toe. 

“See something you like, Red?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I'd be classified as a sadist if I liked the sight of that much blood,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Yeah that’s fair.” She shook her head at me with a small smirk. There was barely a second of silence when Mr. Rich Dude spoke up. 

“Anybody want shawarma?”

Three Hours Later:

I had gone to the Triskelion after the band of misfits apprehended Loki. Agent Hill showed me where to park my jet and directed me to a room so I could shower and stay the night if I wanted to. I had put on black jeans, a white tee, and a black jean jacket, all of which had been in a to-go bag in my jet. I was toweling off my hair when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door to see none other than the one-eyed-wonder standing there. “What can I do for you, Nicky?”

“The Avengers are being debriefed in Conference Room 6B in ten minutes. You should come.”

“The Avengers? Is that what you’re calling them? That’s cute. But I'm not an Avenger and I don’t want to be an Avenger, so no thanks.”

“You should come anyway.”

“I don’t actually have a choice, do I?”

“You know me so well, Eight,” he said with an amused grin.

I walked into the conference room and the Avengers were already there. Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Natasha Romanoff—whose names I learned from Hill— were scattered around a large table, along with Fury. Romanoff eyed me from where she was standing and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. I squinted my eyes and wiggled my eyebrows in response, and I could see her stifle a laugh. “What’s your name?” She accompanied the question with a blank expression, which made me feel oh-so-special. 

“That’s a very personal question, Miss Romanoff. Let’s slow the pace, please.”

“You know my name but I can’t know yours? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The world isn’t fair, Miss Romanoff, and I love a good mystery.”

“If you two are done flirting, we have business to attend to,” interjected Fury.

“Right, my apologies, Nicky.”

“Don’t call me that, Eight.”

After an excruciating 43 minutes and 27 seconds, Fury finally let us leave. I was so close to freedom when that unbelievably sexy voice called to me. “Eight!” Romanoff hastily walked towards me in an effort to catch up.

“Yeah?”

“Is your name actually Eight?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“It amuses me, Red.” There was a brief silence during which both of us were trying to figure out if the conversation was over. 

I was about to leave when she continued, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, no. I’m going to stay the night, steal some really expensive jet fuel, and then leave in the morning before Fury can get up my ass about joining his little team.”

She rolled her eyes and responded, “Why won’t you join the Avengers? And why won’t you tell me your real name?”

“It’s just not my style. I’d rather fly solo.”

“You ignored my second question.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint and stop asking.” With that I turned around and started walking away, but a hand on my arm stopped me dead in my tracks. Alarms started going off in my head, and I'm pretty sure Romanoff was saying something to me but I was too caught up in the memories of beatings, punishments, and psychological conditioning to register it. After a few of the longest seconds of my life, the white of my vision cleared up and the voice telling me ‘physical contact is strictly forbidden’ faded into the background. My heart was still hammering in my chest and I was trying to keep my breathing steady despite the inevitable panic attack trying to drag me under, I regained my neutral expression and said. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you okay?” She had a concerned expression and if I wasn’t so blinded with anxiety, I would’ve appreciated how cute the furrow of her eyebrows was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna turn in. It’s been a long day.” I turned around and walked back to my temporary room at a brutal pace. As soon as the door closed behind me, hot tears raced down my cheeks and I lost the ability to breathe. It was gonna be a long night.

3:21 am:

I finally managed to calm myself down and stop the panic attack after almost four hours. Well, I passed out because I couldn’t breathe but it did calm me down. Trying to sleep would be pointless, so I decided to leave before anyone woke up. I didn’t really have much to pack so I grabbed my duffel bag and left the room. I made it to the corridor attached to the landing pads and ran into the one person I really didn’t want to see. “What are you doing out and about, Red?”

“I’ve got places to be and things to do. Were you just going to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager with a rebellious streak?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually. Do you need a ride? Where are you going?”

“Madrid. Fury said I could hitch a ride on another plane that’s headed for Germany.”

“Well I’m going to France if you wanna ride with me. My jet will get you there a lot faster.” She studied me for what felt like way too long, probably debating if I would try to kill her or not. You know how spies are with their trust issues.

“What the hell, why not?”

And that is how I ended up in a jet with “Candy Shop” playing over the speakers and Natasha Romanoff in the copilot seat yelling at me to, and I quote, ‘slow the fuck down.’ “Why would I slow down, you psycho?! That’s the whole damn point of this thing!”

“Where did you even get a German jet this fast?”

“Germany.”

“No shit Sherlock. How did you get it?”

“I went to Germany, stopped in at the local speedy-jet dealership, and walked out with this beauty.”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism, you know? You’re only being like this to keep me from seeing the real you. You built walls. You want everyone to think you’re fine when in reality, you’re falling apart.”

“Okay…um…there was no need for that, Dr. Romanoff. I can find my own therapist, thank you very much. And don’t go pretending you’re all healthy in the head, Miss Assassin.” It was quiet for all of five seconds before we both burst into laughter.

Madrid, Spain:

I landed the jet at the local S.H.I.E.L.D. base and killed the engines. Romanoff and I removed our headsets and I stood to help her get her bags. “Welp, I’ll see you around I guess.” I really wasn’t good at this type of thing. Or any social interactions, really. Twenty-four years in a cell will do that to you.

“Will I? See you around, I mean?”

“Um, I don’t really know, honestly. I’m not part of S.H.I.E.L.D. so we won’t just run into each other or anything but…”

“Why won’t you join S.H.I.E.L.D.? I mean what else are you doing?”

“Ohhh, I see. You just love me so much that you don’t want me to leave. You’re gonna miss me so much-” I was cut off when she threw her backpack at my head. “Hey! You’re lucky I caught that! Freaking crazy woman.”

When our laughter died down she said, “Well I should probably go. Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. Hitchhikers are always welcome aboard my beloved jet.” A small smile appeared on her face and she stepped forward to give me a hug but she must’ve seen my body go rigid because she stepped back. She might’ve said something but the voice in my head was too loud for me to understand her. I don’t know how long it was before I unfroze but when I did, she was gone. I walked to the front of the jet and started the journey to France.

[keravnous]

- agent 14/agent steve haines; american money

It's a Thursday and it's raining. The raindrops are heavy and loud on impact, running down his windshield like tears. He's on his way to the set and he prays that it'll clear up soon.

"This show will kill you", Warren sits on his bed, sheets lazily draped over his legs. Steve can see where his pubic hair begins and his mouth waters. Warren takes a long drag from his cigarette, blows the smoke into the air.

"It fucking won't, nothing can", Steve's leaning against the door frame, coffee in hand.

"Fuck yes, it can. And it will, lurking around at Forum Drive all day and for what? Two minutes of frightening pictures that will make Karens all over LS go buck wild."

"Who's Karen?"

"Forget about it. Let me suck your dick, Haines, c'mere."

As he arrives near the recreational center and pulls into one of the lots it has indeed stopped raining. The streets are still wet but the sun's coming out again and the air is already mushy with the reblooming heat. There's a lanky man with a dog and he's yelling into his phone - the man that is, not the dog.

He knows who the guy is, even though he most likely doesn't know him, probably he doesn't even know that Steve exists. He's an associate of Franklin Clinton and the Bureau keeps a close eye on him, due to the nature of Clinton being so close with Townley and Philips.

Steve watches Lamar, leaning against the hood of his car, the remaining rain wetting his thigh through the denim.

"Man Frank, you just ain't around no more, homie. That's all I'm saying. Yeah - Yeah, sure whatever, dog - Yeah, fuck yourself too, homie."

He hangs up and stuffs his phone back into his pocket. The dog looks at him. "Man, you get the fool more than I do, Chop. Wassup with him, can you tell me? He always been that fool, but something ain't right there."

Steve knows what ain't right there. Franklin must've picked up by now, or maybe Townley told him, what they were up to that one afternoon at the warehouse. And for what he knows about Clinton and what the intel tells him, the young man probably isn't much of a big fan of government-approved interrogation techniques.

And he probably also won't like what Steve has next in stock. Warren was a little careless the last time around, tongue loosend by sweet kisses and a hand around his dick, when he spoke about a securicar delivering important IAA files soon. It won't hurt 14 but it would definitely aid Steve an awful lot, so he decided to send the boys on the road again, maybe on Tuesday.

The production team's van rolls up next to him and they swarm around him like a stock of bees buzzes around their queen and then there's sound and light checks being run and a woman applies powder to his face. Lamar Davis has not moved a single step. Their eyes meet.

"What are you idiots doing here?", he hollers. Steve wonders if he could be of use.

"We're shooting a show", he replies, while the attach a little microphone to his collar, "The Underbelly of Paradise, you surely have already seen an episode or two."

"You're that Haines-guy then?", something in Lamar's voice makes his skin crawl, his files told Steve that he too is a gangster after all, killing and robbing are some of Davis' favourites. The look he shoots him isn't much friendlier.

"In the flesh", Steve dusts of the sleeves of his polo shirt.

"Yeah, aight. Fuck you then, man. C'mon Chop, we best be leavin', homie. Imma take you back to Frank's crib", oh, there is something in Lamar's voice that Steve definitely doesn't like at all but he just smiles politely at the man, until he's around the corner and out of sight. Steve's smile drops.

"Can we hurry this up a little, people? I don't got all day!" The bees start buzzing again.

_

The raid on the Humane goes by easier than expected. They are in Warren's living room, as the news inform about the incident. Steve is just pouring himself another glass of wine and Warren looks at him.

He knows, that the other one knows. It's a cover story the IAA will buy, but not Warren. Pain shoots through his legs as he slowly makes his way towards the sofa.

Warren mouths a few words at him. Be careful. Steve nods and leans over, places a soft kiss on his shoulder.

"Learned from the best", he whispers and Warren jerks.

"What?", there's panic in his voice.

"The Rashkovsky Job? The breakout and then his research goes missing?"

Warren blinks at him in disbelief.

"So, did he let you know if he likes it in South America?"

They laugh and Steve feels light, his fingertips tingle with it.

_

Steve's on his balcony. There's a saxophonist a few meters down the road, playing some Sinatra pieces and the music wraps itself around him like a blanket. The musician's interpretation reaks of melancholy and reminds Steve of the golden days of Vinewood cinema, noir films and cigarette smoke. Musicians playing at street corners isn't something foreign in a city where everyone has dreams of being the next big national superstar, but Steve usually hates him with his guts. This one's different. It touches him and he finds himself enjoying the dark, warm tunes that float through the cool air. It will be autumn soon and Steve's glad that the heat will be gone.

Warren watches him from the inside, leaning against the kitchen counter, lips curled in a smile.

_

Steve has always hated Michael's bloated and ugly, fat face and now he even gets to point a gun at it. It feels like his birthday and christmas fall on the same day.

"They know or they think they know that I'm the one that was behind the incident."

They stare each other into the ground, guns raised. Steve's ready to fire, has been from the minute Townley walked onto the plaza for the first time.

"Put the weapons down, boys. Fun time's over!", Steve wants to sigh. This is not happening. And then they are suddendly surrounded by their own man Sanchez has sent and then fucking Merryweather's there, too. This is not fucking happening. And so he does the only thing he's always been good at.

"We all know you Agency boys are balls deep in a plot to drive up your fundings by any means necessary", he shouldn't have said that. Warren trusted him with that info, even showed him the intel. He sees something moving behind Agent ULP's eyes, it's fear. He's got him.

Suddendly there's a loud pop and then pain shooting through his left leg. "Same goddamn leg", he blurts out as hell starts to break loose around him. Sanchez blood sprays the concrete in a bright red as the bullet pierces his skull. Steve wishes it would've been Michael instead.

He runs until he can't take the pain no more, then cowers on the ground, slowly robbing behind cover, as Dave and Michael pick up the gun fight. He's bleeding heavily, red liquid rushing out of the wound and drenching his cargos. It seems like the bullet is stuck and maybe has wounded some arteries. He figures that he probably hasn't that much time left. He strips himself out of his shirt and wraps it around his leg, adding pressure on his thigh, just above the bullet wound.

He thinks about Warren. Oh dear God, don't let me die today.

_

"What did you do?", it's Warren, he's sitting at Steve's kitchen table.

"Did you let yourself in, pretty boy?"

"What happend?", he sounds furious now, gets up and his eyes bore into Steve's. He's dizzy with it, with what Warren's gaze tells him, let's him know without saying a word.

"Nothing, it's nothing."

"You got shot!"

"Yeah, the same leg."

"That's - you're-"

Steve wraps his arms around him and presses him close and Warren releases a surprised noise. "I'm still here", he says and it's more for and to himself, than for Warren but the other doesn't seem to care, burying his face in Steve's neck.

The world's a little brighter and warmer and Steve doesn't feel that threatend anymore. He has to make a phone call, but that can wait a few more minutes.

_

He has a team on the way to the plant, it will be alright. They'll be gone for good, just another casualty. He sighs, takes a deep breath and throws the script on the seat across from him.

"Are the cameras rolling? Yes? How do I look, the chin's sharp?"

Warren looks at him, eyes still a little hazy from his last orgasm and Steve turns his head and looks at him. He's so pretty and Steve's heart misses a beat.

"I-", his voice breaks and Warren blinks.

"Yeah?"

"I hate you."

Warren laughs. It's deep and dripping with amusement, running down Steve's body like hot honey. He rolls himself over, on top of Warren, who's still laughing deep in his chest, burying a hand in Steve's blond hair.

"No. No, you don't."

They look at each other and their gazes turn soft. "Sometimes I do", Steve's voice is quiet, honesty seeping through his words, "But sometimes I-, I would burn the world down to protect you."

Warren's hand caresses his neck. "My life would be so very boring without you, Haines. It nearly makes me forget that I just really want to skin you alive, sometimes."

It's not really an I love you - I love you too, but it's as close as they can get without hurting their egos. The kiss is soft and sweet and a promise.

"Hi, I'm Steve Haines. I've tracked down killers, attacked incompetence and taken down terrorist cells, and tonight -"

The gunshot rips through the night and the camera man throws himself back, lands unpleasently on his back.

"My god! The guy! What's-his-name! Fuck, shit, they shot him!", he stares down at the dead man, blood rushing out of the bullet wound in the back of his head. The impact had torn some skin and skull apart and there's a nasty opening, his brain leaks out of it. The camera man vomits out of the gondola as sirens erupt in the night.

_

Warren has his feet up on the coffee table, mindlessly zapping through the programs. It's all shallow and boring and he hopes that Steve will be home soon. Home.

His stomach does a funny little flip and Warren smiles to himself, wraps the blanket around him tighter. It smells of him, his perfume. He closes his eyes and he can practically feel Steve's hand creeping around his neck, resting on his shoulder, heavy and warm. It's always like that, when he comes in on Warren sitting on the sofa. He will lean down and place a feather light kiss on the back of his head, maybe rest his nose there for a moment, taking the other man's scent in for a few seconds, before getting up again and ranting about Norton or another colleague. A fuzzy warmth spreads in his stomach and Warren sighs. A sudden noise interrupts his daydreaming and he lazily opens an eye at the TV. It's a Weazle Broadcast.

"We interrupt our nightly program for an important message. We just recieved notice that FIB Special Agent Steve Haines has been shot on duty at the Del Pierro Pier. Agent Haines died a hero, doing what he loved, which was presenting a TV show. He helped combine the chaos of anti-terrorism and the mindlessness of network television into one highly successful career. Mr. Haines, who was not married, leaves behind his mother."

The world goes silent.

_

He's not moving. Has not in hours, maybe it's even a full day at this point. He has not eaten, has not showered, has not moved at all.

Warren feels like a dead man. The thought makes a bitter laugh splutter over his lips and then has him break out in tears immediately after.

It's a scary thought that people continue to live their lives, acknowledging that an agent passed away last night but they are now out and about, at their jobs, maybe seeing friends or family. A lover, even. They are busy living their life's while Warren's just dissolved in a matter of seconds.

It's a scary thought being ripped off of something so dear so abruptly, it's scary how it ripped a hole it Warren's chest that is now filled with a black, emotionless but equally painful void that nags, tears and claws at him.

It's a scary thought that he's alone again.

His body, his throat gives in and he's rolling on his side, screaming and tearing at the blanket, fingers grabbing at the fabric, as his knuckles turn white. He's screaming and screaming and screaming until his throat is sore and his eyes burn and the only noises that leave his mouth are little pathetic whines of exhaustion and the gasping for air. The pain in his chest takes his breath away, chokes him and makes him want to curl up, bore a knife into it, twist and turn it until it goes away. He feels like vomiting.

_

It's Sunday. It's been a little over 30 hours. Warren is tired, but everytime he tries to close his eyes he sees him, hears his laughter ring in his ears. It hurts. It hurts so much, he has hardly any words left to describe the agony he is going through.

His head hurts too, so does his throat and his stomach, with the constant throwing up and the lack of hydration. But he can't bring himself to get up, to grab a glass of water and drown some pain killers and go to bed. His legs are heavy and he just doesn't have the energy.

Warren feels like dying but he's also so painfully alive.

_

He's wide awake. He'll need to find a solution for how he's going to be able to go to work tomorrow.

But for now he's wrapping himself in Steve's blanket, the one he sleeps in when he's been over, inhaling the fading scent.

_

"Agent 14?"

His eyes are red, bloodshot and his fingers are trembling, seconds away from shaking. He had powder this morning to just make it somehow and it's slowly wearing off. He hasn't been on coke since college and it sent him on a murder high, blood pumping like a race horse only to now let him dive head-first into a killer hole.

It's been three days since Steve left his life both, quiet and eardrum-tearing loudly, and it feels like a nightmare, eternal and burning hot. He's empty inside but there's also just so much pain, it feels like he's breaking into pieces. His stomach clenches and his heartbeat is heavy, vibrates thickly in his chest and he just wants to die, too.

"Mrs. Rackham", his voice is rough, it doesn't bother to hide that Warren had been crying and screaming his lungs out every night since Steve's brain had been splattered onto the ferris wheel.

"I need to talk to you."

This is about Avon and Clifford, he's sure. His hand shakes and coffee spills on his desk. He curses under his breath and reaches for a tissue but Mrs. Rackham grabs his hand with force. They look at each other. Warren blinks.

"You are not in a good condition. I don't need explanations or lies, 14. I want to offer you my sincere condolences on your loss, Mister Jones. "

Warren takes a deep breath but he can't keep his eyes from tearing up.

"Take the week off, Agent", as he's not moving, shocked and dumbfounded, she starts to pick his jacket up, "Go now, I'll cover you up."

He gets on his feet, knees weak and body shaking, takes his jacket from her hands.

"Thank you, Phoenicia", he means it.

She looks at him. "I'm sorry", and she means it, too, "The IAA could've done some-"

"Don't."

She nods sharply and then looks at him once more, eyes piercing.

"I lost my husband in service as well, Iraq in 2004."

And then they're hugging, Warren is burrying his face into her neck and wailing like a little child.

_

It's a weird feeling and it fucks with his head as his gaze falls on the door of his apartment. He could've sworn that he heard the key turning the lock. He stares and stares and stares and it feels like his brain is readying for Steve to come through the door anytime.

He doesn't.

_

It's midnight and he had five more moments like the door-lock one earlier. He feels like he may go insane.

Warren fumbles for his phone on the nightstand and opens up Eyefind, types his thoughts into the searchbar.

At the end of his research he's left with two possibilities: it's either a stage of grief (denial they call it - dying's more fitting, Warren thinks) or the sideeffects of the coke slowly wearing off.

_

It's raining. It's like the heavens above are pissing down on him. Warren's crying while the rain relentlessly pounds on his umbrella.

He's standing a few meters away from the funeral party. Steve's mother bails her eyes out and he would like to go over to her and wrap her im his arms but he would just be a stranger to her.

There's a saxophonist in front of the cementry. He's playing Sinatra's Summer Wind, sounding sad but warm nonetheless. Steve's family probably thinks of that as a weird coincidence but Warren has spent two full nights finding the man again, who has played down at Steve's street corner all those months ago. It was difficult and time consuming, but not impossible.

There's a new wave of tears making their way out of Warren's eyes and he has to clasp a hand on his mouth to stop the painful noises from making their way into the soft air of spring. He feels like he's breaking apart, torn into two pieces.

He cries and cries and cries until the funeral party is long gone any the sun sets. The saxophonist is still playing.

_

When Warren comes home the sun's gone for some while and it's dark out. There's a light burning in his kitchen. For a moment, just a split second, it feels like Steve will swing around the corner. But he doesn't.

He walks into the kitchen to find a bouquet of white lillies sitting on the countertop. He checks the card attached to them.

Sorry about your loss.

He doesn't recognize the handwriting, it looks like it could've been written by someone who's older than Warren, male maybe, but his last Hand Writing and Letter Indentification Course was two years ago. He figures his cleaner, a nice elderly lady, had put them there. He thinks about her seeing the bouquet on the door step and carefully carrying them inside, placing them in the only vase Warren has at home. It makes him both sad and glad, glad that at least she's still around.

_

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.

14 would've liked to ask Robert Frost if he was just stupid or naive or both.

_

Two days later he's so angry at the world that he grabs the vase and throws it across the room, where it collides with the wall and breaks in a thousand little pieces.

_

The anger keeps on coming, rage that boils hot and white in his stomach, makes him lash out at colleagues and scream his lungs out, throwing things and fits like it's nothing.

He finds himself beating into walls and furniture until his knuckles bleed.

Mrs. Rackham puts him onto another break, Temporarily Suspended Until Further Notice the record reads.

_

Warren's awake, restless but exhausted, again. It's three in the morning. His head hurts, his bones hurts, his whole body feels heavy.

"I should've stopped you from going", he whispers into the night and his mind conjurs up Steve's voice, consoling him.

"No, really. I should have been more persistent. If you just would've stayed with me that night."

Steve answers him again, but it sounds washed out in Warren's ear.

Oh, please don't let me forget his voice.

_

He's not moving again. Hasn't done so in two days.

Mrs. Rackham continues to call him, but he won't pick up. He can't handle her, can't handle her sorrow and her advices. He doesn't want to hear it. She would probably also bug him about not showing up for work again and that's just something he really doesn't want to hear right now.

It's phone rings again and he picks it up to throw it against the wall with all the force he can possibly muster, so it would just shut up, but it's not Phoenicia calling this time. It's Lester.

"14? This is Crest." He doesn't sound good. Warren doesn't know what to say.

"I am, ehrm, calling to see how you're doing?" Odd. He can't bring himself to say anything back. "You know I, err, saw you didn't clock in to work for a few days? Are you doing, ehrm, well?"

"Yeah", it sounds as broken as he feels. There's an uncomfortable silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds, maybe even for a full minute. He hears Lester's inhaler.

"I, well I err heard about Haines."

It should send him into a rage, a fit, maybe even crying manically but there's just nothing. Just the casual numbness that hangs above him like thick clouds these days.

"Yeah, a shame, isn't it?"

There's coughing, then deep breaths being taken. "You're not doing too well, Crest?"

"Can we meet up, 14? I", another cough, "I know a place."

_

The sun's out and it burns in Warren's eyes, on his skin, even though he's wearing both, a jacket and sunglasses. Crest sits across from him at the table, not touching his iced coffee. So isn't Warren, he is neither thirsty nor hungry.

They are at a bean machine on Vinewood Boulevard. It's one of the stores Steve used to buy his coffee at. There should be stining pain at the thought but there's just sadness, blackness wandering through Warren's mind.

"You don't look too good", Crest says.

"You neither", Warren says and to mask the shaking of his voice he takes a sip from the coffee. It tastes like nothing, like liquid paper.

"I don't feel to good either. But you also don't, so what's the matter, 14."

Warren just shrugs. Lester looks at him, a steady and stern gaze, as if he's looking for answers in Warren's eyes, in his fucking soul.

"What are we doing here?"

"Just looking after a, err, friend."

"We're not friends, Crest."

"Associates then, maybe?", the look on his face is a little sad, offended. Warren can't bring himself to care.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Any lead, yet?"

Warren lifts his eyebrows in suprise. "A lead?"

"Yeah, you know", Crest clears his throat and leans in a little, "Who did it, you know."

Maybe Warren's mind is playing tricks on him again, but Crest looks a little concerned.

"No, none. Nothing."

Crest nods and leans back. Lester doesn't offer his help, so Warren decides that he then won't ask for it. Still confused and mouth already opened he wants to know why, as Lester's lungs throw a fit, his body cramping and being thrown forward and then back again by his dry coughs. Warren's up on his feet in a matter of seconds, his heartbeat picking up a fast rate he hasn't feeled in weeks, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He grabs Lester by his shoulders and holds him up, while he coughs coughs coughs. At the end of it there's blood on his chin.

"You're not planing on dying as well, are you?"

The look Lester shoots him, slumped in his chair with other guests on the terrace staring at them in shock, makes Warren's skin crawl.

_

He hasn't been at an attorney's office ever. It's a weird experience.

The people are nice and calm and so is Mister Allan, who has Steve's testament laying in front of him.

"So, Mister Jones, shall we get started then?"

Warren nods. It still confuses him. He wonders what Steve's mother thought, when she heard that she won't inherit everything. Warren doesn't want money, money won't replace anything.

He must've said that out loud, because Allan chuckles.

"Mister Haines hasn't left you money. No need to worry, Mister Jones."

He leaves the office with a black box tucked safely under his arm. He doesn't open it, not in the office, not on the way out in the elevator, not at home. He tucks it away in his closet, deep down where he keeps a ski puffer, that he never wears anyways.

_

He finds himself talking to Steve, or what his mind conjurs up of his memories, more often. It helps him, or so he hopes.

He misses him and the soliloquy is a good substitute, at least for now.

_

They are at a clinic just above the hills and behind the Vinewood sign, far away from the city, the air is dry and crisp nonetheless. Lester sits in a wicker chair, wrapped in a blanket and stares at the fountain in the middle the perfectly trimmed meadow. Warren sits next to him, craving a cigarette, but not lighting one. He'll have to wait a couple more minutes, until the nurse will bring Lester back into the clinic.

"Thank you for stopping by", Crest means it.

"Am I the only one?"

"No, oh no. There's, ehrm, Franklin's coming over too, once or twice a week."

He looks better, rested. Warren doesn't know who Franklin is, but he nods politely anyways.

"That's nice."

"Yeah, he's a good kid." A crook then.

"Are they treating you well up here?"

"It's fine, I- argh, fuck it. The dinner's horrible but the doctor's are good enough. Won't make a difference anyways."

"That's what they're saying then?", Warren looks into the setting sun. From up here Los Santos seems peaceful, quiet, a big, glorious and shining city. It's a hell hole full of shit, Warren knows that now, but he can't leave. Not yet.

"Yeah. No. They don't say it, but they mean it. It's in their eyes." Lester takes a sip of his water.

"Don't say that, Crest."

Lester looks at him. He doesn't say it, but the look on his face says it all. You've been through enough, I won't tell you that I'm dying soon.

"Yeah, well, it was nice seeing you. Getting better and such", Warren gets up, the wicker creaking, his phone in hand and sunglasses back on. They look at each other for a long, quiet moment and then Warren nods, turns around to leave. A surprisingly strong hand grabs his arm.

"I have a project, it's happening right now, Warren."

He stops in his tracks. From somewhere behind the fountain laughter sweeps up the hill. There's an old lady on the meadow with their grandchildren and they're playing ball. She has a bandage around her head.

"A project?", Warren doesn't turn around.

"Yeah, I'd like you to take over. You need something to do."

"I still have a job, Crest."

"That reminds you of him." It's like a kick into his guts and there's sudden rage boiling inside of him, but there's also something else. A certain calmness, that wraps itself around his shoulders like a white blanket. T feels a lot like clarity.

"That it does, yeah."

"I'll have Paige bring you the details."

"Sure. Good night, Crest."

He walks over the little path out of bark mulch, that is overgrown by trees, back to his car. He feels oddly content.

_

See, life does goes on. It's a weird thought that strikes him out of nowhere. He's afraid of forgetting everything that was, since forgetting always seemed easy. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week but who knows what will be in a year? Maybe he'll catch himself sooner or later, not thinking about Steve for a few weeks, months, years.

He's afraid of that, sincerely so.

_

The air in the bunker is cold and damp. Some of his people are moving out the old equipment. He doesn't know Crest's newest associate, it's most likely no one from the Hertz/Clifford-Incident.

I'm sorry I called him a buffoon, if I had only known back then.

He thinks of Phoenicia's concerned face and suddendly he finds himself smiling.

"Oh, he was a buffoon, you weren't wrong, Ma'am", he says to himself and hears a quiet chuckle errupting from his chest. There's sadness floading him, but it's warm and sweet and feels like an old friend.

There's no time for tears as the door of the bunker suddendly beeps loudly, informing him of a visitor arriving.

_

"So, you're getting along, then?", Crest sounds better. Warren lets go a breath, he doesn't even know he held in the first place.

"Yeah. They are quiet, but I appreciate the effort they are putting into it."

"I told you, they're are reliable."

"So you did."

There's a long pause, silence.

"Listen, Crest. I gotta go, speak to you soon."

As he hangs up, he's confronted with his lie, standing alone in his quiet living room.

_

The next time Lester invites him over, he says yes. He lives in a bigger, cleaner house now and Warren can only guess, that he was indeed involved in the robbery at the Casino his team is trying to solve right now. He'll offer them a false trace. Maybe they'll pick that one up.

"Georgina's not home, you just missed her", Lester wobbles down the stairs to the living room, crutch in hand.

"Who?"

"Georgina, he lives with her", Warren looks up, from where he is securing Lester's arm with his own hand and looks into the face of a young man. He looks younger than himself and wears expensive street style clothing.

"Who are you?"

"That's Franklin, Warren. Franklin, that's the friend I've been telling you about."

"Pleasure", Warren's voice still on the edge, while the man's handshake is firm.

"You lost your man, dog? Lest been telling me."

"I did, eight months ago."

There's something moving behind Franklin's face but he's quick to cover it up. Warren wonders: what and why.

"Shame man, I'm sorry to hear that, homie. My girl left me, too."

"He didn't leave me. He died."

Franklin looks at Lester, confused and a little reproachful, too. Then, it seems to click, as Franklin looks at him again. He now looks a little terrified, actually.

"Franklin was just leaving anways, weren't you?", Crest sits down in a beige armchair. Warren notices that he has new glasses.

"Yeah, shit. I mean of course, I was on my way out. Nice meeting you man, I hope you're, you know, doing better soon. See you around."

"Thank you", Warren recieves an awkward pat on his shoulder and then Franklin's steps distance themselves, until the front door falls shut.

_

He didn't leave me. He died.

His own words echo in his skull but they don't throw him into a manic tantrum, he's not crying, not screaming. He's oddly calm.

Is this how it feels, when one comes to terms with something, he wonders. Maybe, it is.

He died.

That he did and it must've been fucking ugly. Blood and soupy brain everywhere. Warren wishes he could've held him during these moments, when the body is slowling shutting down, when something mysterious, unknown happens to the human consciousness.

He died.

And Warren had missed him every single day since then. He leans himself against the closed bedroom door of his apartment and then makes his way to his closet.

The box is still where he has left it.

He died. He died. He died.

"I miss you, Steve", he whispers into the silence of his flat and then he smiles, it's small and sad, and he sinks onto the ground, box clutched in his hands, "Fuck, I wish you were still here."

There's silence but Warren likes to think that something of Steve's mind, his soul is still left on this earth, stayed with him. It's a nice thought, even if it's unrealistic. It's still consoling.

Steve's gone for good, but just because his body doesn't walk the dirty streets of LS anymore doesn't mean that he left Warren's life completely - he still existed, left his footprints behind. And Warren's ready, willing even, to take carefully aligned pictures of them and hang them on his wall. He's ready to look at them every day that may come and maybe he'll stop crying at some point. Or maybe he won't. He'll be fine.

It's an odd feeling. His life still feels empty, incomplete since Steve passed and so does Warren. He feels empty, shallow and sad, but it will pass and he will take the time. It doesn't mean forgetting him, quite the contrary maybe.

He flips the lid, puts it aside carefully with a quiet thump on the carpet below. He takes a look inside and bursts out laughing.

_

"Did he leave you something?", he hasn't seen her in years, since college. She used to be his flat mate.

"Yeah", he smiles to himself.

"What is it?", she looks moved and Warren would love to tell her, but he can't. He really can't. Not all of it, anyways.

"A letter."

"A letter?"

"Yeah, a fucking love letter."

"Warren! Don't say that! It's very heartwarming!"

It's been a year. He still misses him. "He wasn't the type for it, that's all."

He thinks of the envelope he keeps in his safe. It's a document, FIB header and logo, completely official.

Reference: Counter Espionage, Crimes Against National Safety, A Report By Steve Haines to be handed to Misses Phoenicia Rackham In Relation "To Agent 14", Mister Warren Jones

"Oh, was he not, you know, a little a romantic?"

"No, it must've taken a lot for him to write a love letter." It was really sweet and it went well with the attempt to put Warren in a High Security Penitentiary.

"Really?", she looks a little concerned, but she doesn't get Steve, their relationship as it was, like Warren does.

He looks up from his coffee cup and lights a cigarette. He hasn't had a smoke in a long time but at least he stopped with the cocaine.

"Yeah. Sometimes", there's a smile tugging at his lips, "Sometimes I think he would've rather seen me locked away."

[mamabearcat]

Proposal fic + hair (braiding/brushing) InuKag

Ooh thanks Nonny 😘

Okay, I'm gonna revive an AU I've never actually written but it's been loitering around in the back of my head forever. I may even write it one day if I feel like doing a longer AU full of comedy fluff. The first bit was posted on Tumblr forever ago, but now it gets to be continued!

Inuyasha wasn’t quite sure how he fell into it; who would have thought you could make a career out of being a model for romance covers for fuck’s sake?! Apparently his half-demon heritage that had blessed him with his father's long thick white hair, amber eyes that glowed in the darkness and pointed dog ears gave him an edgy look, whatever that meant. His ability to retain a lean muscular build no matter what he ate didn't hurt either.

But, the money was very good, even if he had to fight off the occasional stalker, and hide from screaming female fans trying to stuff underwear in his pockets when he went out to buy milk.

His manager Miroku was a total letch, and Sango had been slacking on security - waking up to find a strange woman in his kitchen making coffee in nothing but an apron was more than a little surprising. He actually had more than a sneaking suspicion that something was going on between those two.

But the best part of being a model was Kagome. His photographer, his best friend. He'd known her for years now, and there was no one he trusted more.

Their first photo shoot three years ago had been memorable. He’d accidentally called her Kikyo, and she'd exploded at him. How was he to know? They looked kinda the same, and they were both photographers. It did kinda suck that her cousin Kikyo had possibly ruined her chances of having a serious career in photo journalism, but this gig she was doin’ paid the bills right?

Why did she have to be so serious anyway? He’d abandoned any thoughts of self respect long ago. When you knew what it was like at the very bottom, didn’t know where your next meal was coming from, you understood that self respect was a luxury.

Ah, but Kagome. He couldn't help but love her. Even though this wasn't what she wanted to be doing, she put her whole heart and soul into her work, wanting it to be the best. He knew all her little mannerisms by heart - the way she blew upwards into her fringe when she was feeling frustrated, the way she jiggled her legs under the table when she was feeling fidgety, the way her eyes lit up when she got a good idea for a shot.

He'd always said he'd do anything for her, would gladly take a bullet for her. He'd already blocked a knife attack for her, that had to count for something, right? He'd never been more terrified when she'd been threatened, and the thought of what might had happened if he'd left just a little earlier still broke him out in a cold sweat sometimes.

They'd been closer after her life was threatened, so much closer. He'd been hopeful, but pretty sure she still only saw him as a friend. I mean, how cliche was it for a model to fall for a photographer? He was pretty sure she'd think he was joking, and laugh right in his face. And then on the steps after the trial against that stalker she'd kissed him. And it had been like the heavens had opened and angels had sung.

Kagome had always wanted to be a photo journalist. She'd dreamed of it since high school, starting her career with the local paper, gaining notice when she won a world renowned travel photography competition. That was the chance that should have got her a job with a top magazine, the chance that should have made her career. But it had been stolen by her cousin Kikyo.

Kikyo, who had been her flatmate when they finished high school, so they could share their passion for photography and help support each other in their move to New York as they tried to achieve their dreams. Kikyo, who had taken the message about the year long internship she had been offered after they saw her winning photo. Kikyo, whose features were similar enough to her own that they were often mistaken for each other, if you didn't know both of them that well. Kikyo, who had turned up for that internship and somehow convinced them that she'd used a different name for the competition.

Her cousin had milked that experience for everything it was worth. And now she was the one working for a world renowned magazine, and Kagome was paying rent doing cover photos for romance novels. She may be the best one in her field, but it wasn't quite what she'd dreamed of. It's not like she'd wished upon a star when she was five and asked if she could be the one to discover the next Fabio.

The best thing about her work was spending time with Inuyasha. She'd been so angry at him the first day they'd met all those years ago. Fresh from a weekend at a family event where she'd had to hear once again that Kikyo couldn't make it because she was overseas, doing some big story, and they were all so proud of her. And he'd called her Kikyo, because he'd seen some article recently and mistakenly thought she was her cousin. After she'd calmed down, she couldn't really fault him. They had the same last name, same initial, even looked similar enough.

But he'd grown on her. And it wasn't just his good looks - he had those in abundance, but he didn't really seem to care about that. He was rough around the edges, a little rude, definitely obnoxious, but very funny, charming, brave, and also... kind of sweet?

That day she'd had that terrible cold but had still come to work because they'd had a deadline, he'd given her his jacket and then rushed out to the supermarket at lunch time so he could make her a sure fire cold remedy his mother had taught him. It had tasted absolutely feral, but surprisingly, she'd felt a lot better the next day.

Just a few weeks ago, they had finalised the court case with Inuyasha's stalker. For some reason, Jakotsu, one of Inuyasha's most ardent fans, had bizarrely seen Kagome as a threat, even though it was obvious they were only friends.

At first it was just strange letters delivered to her workplace, which she'd ignored totally. She'd only begun to be worried when weird notes appeared in her own letter box at her apartment. And then the late night phone calls had started.

She'd managed to keep it from Inuyasha until Jakotsu had slashed her tyres, and then he'd been furious. Angry at her for not telling him what was happening, and incandescent with rage at the stalker.

After that he'd been there for her whenever she'd been afraid, so protective and caring. When Jakotsu had snuck up on her late one night in the parking lot, he'd blocked the attack, stepping in front of her in the nick of time, taking a slash to his arm that was originally aimed at her face, then knocking out Jakotsu and holding him until the police arrived.

He'd been the one injured, with nearly 20 stitches in his forearm, but he'd been worried about her. Thank goodness for swift youkai healing. She'd been devastated that he'd been injured, but he'd just shrugged it off, telling her he was glad it was him and not her.

After that, she'd finally admitted to herself that her feelings for him were more than just friendly. Had been for such a long time now. He was gorgeous, but she wasn't the kind of girl that slept around. She needed to be friends first, be comfortable, and there was no one she was more comfortable around than Inuyasha. He was her first thought in the morning and her last at night. But wasn't that a little cliche, a photographer falling for a model? She'd thought he'd probably think she was joking and laugh in her face.

But that moment after the trial and they'd been standing out in the sunlight, she hadn't been able to help herself. She was just so happy, so grateful that he hadn't been injured worse. So she'd practically crash tackled him and kissed him. No tentative pecks. No warning. She couldn't bear to let another day pass without him knowing how she felt. And when he'd kissed her back, with Miroku and Sango cat calling in the background, yelling at them to get a room, it had felt like heaven.

"Where's Yura this morning?" asked Inuyasha, glancing around the make up room, as if she would suddenly appear out of nowhere with her ever present combs and scissors.

"She's called in sick, so you've got me on double duty today. Aren't you lucky?" Kagome teased, poking her tongue out at him.

"So, you gonna model with me too?" he grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her close to rub his nose softly againt hers. "Who's gonna take the happy snaps?"

"You wish. It's a new model today, Tuva, we haven't met her before. This is for the viking one, so we needed someone with fair hair and pale skin. The photos in her online portfolio are gorgeous. And the agency recommended her, so she should be fine."

Kagome gave him a quick peck on the cheek, laughing at his pouting face, then patted the chair in front of the mirror. "Sit down already will you? I called her earlier to let her know what was going on and she offered to get her own hair and makeup done at the studio there, so now I've just got to do you."

Inuyasha couldn't help the flutter down low in his stomach at her statement, even though he knew she'd meant it innocently enough. She began by brushing his long hair and he closed his eyes, feeling the regular pull of the brush on his scalp, her fingers gently protecting his ears from the rough bristles.

Damn that felt good. If he were a cat he'd be purring, and it took every inch of self control to not let out a deep rumbling growl of pleasure when she ran her hands through his hair, pulling the top back and securing it in a rough pompadour with a ponytail behind his head.

Then her nimble fingers were making small cornrow braids near his temples, adding little leather thongs and silver charms. The gentle tugging of his scalp felt so good. He squirmed in his seat a little, keeping his eyes closed.

"Sorry, am I pulling too hard?"

"Nah, feels so damn good. You're a natural at this. Wanna change careers and become my hairdresser?"

She pretended to think a moment, then giggled.

"Maybe. You're hair is fun to play with. It's much prettier than mine."

He opened his eyes, watching her as her deft fingers twisted his hair together.

"Nope. Untrue. Have you ever seen your hair in the sunlight Kagome? The way it shimmers almost blue? It's beautiful."

Her cheeks pinked, and she glanced at the mirror, her eyes fluttering downwards again when he caught her eyes.

"Stop. You're the one that's the freaking model, Inuyasha. Let me concentrate on this or we'll be behind schedule."

"So Ms. Higurashi can take a compliment about her photography skills but not her person? That's kinda weird don't you think? Especially when you're so pretty."

"Inuuuu..."

"C'mere", he said, tugging on her arm to move her into his lap, ignoring her squawk of protest. "Why can't my pretty girl take a compliment from me, huh?"

"I can! But we're at work right now Inuyasha!"

"Alright, prove it. Look in the mirror and say what I say, and then I'll let you go." She squirmed but he tightened his arm around her waist, pinning him close to her. "Gotta do what I say Higurashi. Gotta keep the talent happy!" She smacked his arm, still trying to wriggle out of his hold, doing her best to hold in her smile, but failing miserably.

"So, how should I keep the talent happy Inuyasha?" she smirked. "You were pretty happy when I left your apartment last night."

He moved his head to rest on her shoulder, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

"Ah, but that's where you're very wrong pretty girl." Kagome's face fell.

"You didn't enjoy last night?"

"Oh I did. Very much", he grinned, bucking his hips underneath her, then kissing a path down the arch of her neck onto her shoulder. "But then you left. And I was in that big empty bed all alone, with no one to keep me company."

"Oh, poor you. You know why I left Inuyasha. You needed to have a good night's sleep before the shoot today, and you know what would have happened if I'd stayed longer. There wouldn't have been much sleeping going on."

He nuzzled into her neck. "Maybe not, but this talent would have been much much happier. I don't want you to leave anymore." Kagome froze.

"You... you want me to move in with you?"

"I want you to move in", he said, his teasing face now serious. "I want you to be with me always. I know we've only been going out for a month Kagome, but I love you. I've loved you for years. And that's not going to change."

She turned on his lap so they were now facing each other, cradling his cheeks in her palms. "I love you too", she whispered. "So much."

"Would it be crazy if... if I said I wanted even more than that?" he asked softly, his eyes searching hers. "Would it be crazy if I said I want to be more than just your boyfriend, that I want more than you moving in. That I want us to belong to each other? And tell the whole world about it?"

Kagome's eyes widened, and her heart began beating wildly in her chest.

"That sounds an awful lot like a marriage proposal Inuyasha."

"That's because, maybe it is. We wasted so much time Kagome. I don't wanna waste another second. Please say yes."

"How could I say no to those puppy dog eyes of yours?" she giggled wetly, her eyes filling with happy tears.

[vixenpen]

Fuck A Fan (Bakugo x Camgirl reader pt. 1)

You had gotten the idea from one of your best friends in the cam industry.

“You sure this will work?”

“Trust me boo,” he had replied, “sometimes the best motivation for a man is a little friendly competition.”

Your bestie had insisted that a fuck a fan contest would be the perfect way to get CallMeKing to finally make good on his unfulfilled promise to see you.

Putting the finishing touches on your flyer, you finally posted the announcement to all social media. You knew CMK was still lurking. So he’d definitely see it. Hopefully, this little contest would be enough to spark his interest, if this failed, you were going to scream.

Because for the first time in your cam career, a man had you chasing him.

The audacity!

To be fair, he did say that he wanted to see you too, but had to keep a low profile due to his career. He promised as soon as worked dialed down you guys would meet up.

Well that had been over a year ago, and not only had you guys not met face to face; he also didn’t seem to check in on you as much anymore.

He still tipped and re-subbed to your page. He had even cash-apped you money for Christmas and your birthday.

But aside from that, there were no more late night, sexting sessions, no more random check ins, no more nude trading.

At first, you brushed it off.

He was apparently a very successful man. Successful men were busy. They couldn’t give you every second of their time. As a successful woman, you could relate to that.

Not to mention, you were a bad bitch and bad bitches did not pine over any man.

PERIODTTT.

Buuuut...when the man in question was fine as hell with boulders for biceps, a big dick, and long money, well...you’d like to think the City Girls, Meg the Stallion, and all the other bad bitches you looked up to would understand your thirst.

“Alright, King,” you sat back in the furry, white computer chair and glared at your laptop screen. “Ball is in your court now.”

“Mr. Ground Zero, can I get a picture too?”

A precocious looking blue haired kid asked. He stared up at Katsuki with wide, hopeful eyes.

Katsuki grimaced.

“Whatever kid, c’mon.”

He leaned down, attempting to keep a safe distance from the walking germ pool, while keeping in the lens of his camera phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks a lot, Mr. Ground Zero!”

The kid giddily ran back to his group of friends.

Kirishima slung his arm around Bakugo’s shoulder, weighing down on his slightly shorter friend.

“Wow, Bakubro, looks like those public relations training classes have really been working, huh?”

“Whatever, I just don’t need anymore shitty press with kids.”

“You still have energy for happy hour with Sero and Me tonight?”

Bakugo replied with a noncommittal shrug. He scrolled absentmindedly through his phone as he and Kirishima headed towards their agencies to call it a day.

He decided to check in on (cam name’s) IG page to see how she was doing.

A pang of longing tugged at him. He missed her. A lot. Sure, she was a cam girl, and being friendly and flirty was her job, but she always brightened his days. With crime picking up steadily over the past year, Bakugo could use her presence in his life now more than ever, unfortunately, nothing in his schedule would permit it.

He was researching a new threat that had been developing in the crime world. Apparently the new mob of villains seemed to have some connections to the crime world in America, and Bakugo found himself flying back and forth to the west for meetings and to make media rounds to help put the public at ease.

His sleep schedule was completely out of whack with all the stress he was under, so any spare moment he wasn’t working, he was sleeping. Which meant no time for his virtual boo thing. Though he did try to make it known he was thinking about her with bill money.

As he flipped through her newest posts, something caught his eyes.

Fuck a fan contest? Winner gets to make content with me at secure location!

What the fuck was this shit?

Whatever it was, he was certainly going to get to the bottom of it when he got home.

CMK: Hey, (cam name) what’s this all about?

Y/N: what does it look like? Fuck a fan contest

CMK: fuck u mean? You don’t do meet ups!

Y/N: 🤷🏾‍♀️ first time for everything.

Anger hummed beneath Bakugo’s skin. Since when did y/n start doing meet ups? She had always told him she didn’t trust her fans as far as she could throw them.

He had encouraged her to not be forthcoming with personal information and never feel like she had to meet up with randos online for money. He would take care of anything she needed before it came to that.

So what was the meaning of this? Had he not been taking good enough care of her? Keeping her bills paid? Her nails and hair done?

Y/N: u entering or what? 👀

CMK: hell no im not entering and neither is anyone else. Now take that shit down.

Y/n: (voice note) first the fuck of all, you don’t tell me what to do. Second the fuck of all, do you know how much money is in this? You ain’t stopping my bag boo. Period! 💅🏾

He was practically seething. Who the fuck did she think she was talking to like that?

Who the fuck did she think she was saying no to?!

His dick stirred in his pants as he re-listened to the voice note of her cursing him out.

CMK: how much does it take to win?

Y/N: just whoever has the most.

CMK tipped $150,000

CMK: now take it the fuck down

Y/N: nobody else has entered yet.

CMK: nobody else up here has the money I have.

Y/N: if you’re not meeting with me, I ain’t takin it down.

CMK: god fucking dammit y/n. Tonight. 9pm. Text me the addy. I’ll have my driver pick you up.

True to his word, CMK had his driver pick you up an hour and a half before the time he had mentioned.

Your knee bounced, causing the black mini dress hugging your shapely thighs to ride up. You pulled it down absentmindedly.

You could count on one hand how many times you had been flown out by one of your fans. It certainly wasn’t a weekly occurrence for you the way it was for other models.

Fear and excitement fluttered in your stomach.

You wondered what the driver thought of you. Heading to this rich and powerful man’s house in the middle of the night.

You had tried to dress up as if you were going to be taken on a fancy date. Your hair styled, silver chandelier earrings dripping from your lobes to match the long silver necklace that dipped between your pushed up cleavage.

If the driver gave two shits, you at least hoped he thought you were going to get a nice meal before getting dicked down.

The community where CMK lived was on the outskirts of town; hidden in a forest of natural and manicured foliage. One could go literal miles between each home before they saw the next one.

You pressed your forehead against the window to take in the flora and fauna, manicured lawns, and huge mansions. So. Many. Styles. Of mansions!

“Here we are ma’am.” the driver announced.

He drove you up a looping, stone drive way that led to a very modern home that reminded you a bit of abstract art what with its odd angles, jutting sides, and square architecture.

The driver stepped out and opened your door. Once you were faced with the massive stairs and wooden doors before you, the song: Pretty Woman blared in your mind. You certainly felt that way.

Before you could knock, the door swung open revealing a pair of red eyes that were devouring your body head to toe.

“Oh my god...”

“Wasn’t expecting to hear that before I even touched you, beautiful.” He chuckled. His lips quirked into the cocky half smirk you’d grown familiar with from his interviews.

Was this real? Call me king was Ground Zero?!

“C-call me king?” You managed to stutter out pitifully.

“I would prefer to call you by your real name.” He joked. “Come in, beautiful.” He grabbed your hand gently and pulled you through the door.

You couldn’t even appreciate the high ceilings, polished wood floors, and tasteful stone wash colored furniture as you followed Ground Zero through the door.

He took leggy strides into the airy kitchen taking out a couple of glasses from a cupboard. You could only gawk.

He looked good as hell in his short sleeved denim button up shirt and ripped black jeans. His physique flexed under the well tailored clothes showing off the broad chest and bulging biceps you’d seen in the Nudes. His spiky Blonde hair looked soft and a bit damp.

“You wanna drink, beautiful?”

“I don’t accept drinks from new people in new environments.”

He looked up to shoot you a half smile. The usual mischief was missing from his red eyes, replaced with genuine affection.

“Of course you don’t. My (cam name.)”

“F/N,” you replied.

“Bout damn time you gave me a real name. Mine is Bakugo, babe.”

He strolled over with a glass of water for himself.

“So, f/n,” his ruby colored eyes darkened with a predatory gleam as he stepped right to your face. “Why don’t you have a seat? I promise the couch won’t bite.”

He brought a hand down to smack your round ass, making you jump.

“Can’t say the same for myself though.”

Licking your lips, you lowered yourself into the couch. Bakugo settled beside you so close the sides of your bodies touched. He draped an arm around your shoulder.

“I know you got a camsona and all, but damn, y/n, where’s my feisty little c/n? Huh? Lil Ms. Period!” His voice took on a lighter tone as he tried to imitate your twang.

The attempt earned him a giggle.

“Well excuse me, sir, but I wasn’t expecting the number two pro-hero in Japan to be my biggest fan.” You snapped back, playfully rolling your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m still wrapping my brain around it.”

“There’s that smart ass mouth I love so much.” He tucked your chin.

This close to him, you could feel his warm minty breath fanning against your lips. A familiar warmth was already growing between your legs.

Pulling away you asked: “Why me?”

“Hah?” His brows knit in confusion. “Fuck kinda question is that? What do you mean why you?”

“I mean, I’m a bad bitch or whatever, but I’m just...me and you’re...you.”

“Tch. You just answered your own damn question, dumb ass.” He tilted your face back towards him. You felt his other large hand roam the bare skin of your thigh and shivered.

“You’re a bad bitch. You don’t seem to forget that any other time, don’t fuckin’ forget it now, got that? Your confidence is what’s sexy about you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as heat flooded your cheeks.

“You know, when you’re not being a fuckin’ asshole, you can be pretty damn charming when you wanna be.”

“And when you’re not being a defiant little brat, you can be real fucking cute.”

A moan slipped from your glossy lips as his hand crept steadily up your thigh

“Please,” you leaned closer to him, “you love my brattiness.”

He scoffed, amused.

“I’ll show you just how much I like it.”

Without warning, Bakugo scooped you up. His large, rough hands dug into the soft flesh of your round ass as he straddled you on his lap.

Your wet, bare pussy pressed into his bulge as he stole a greedy kiss. Your gasp quickly morphed into a moan as desire burned in your core and flooded your entire body.

His tongue overtook your mouth effortlessly.

“No panties, huh, brat? I can feel you leaking through my jeans.”

“I hate panties,” you managed between kisses. “And bras.”

That little confession just inspired more arousal in Bakugo. He deposited you on the long couch and let his hot tongue snake along every sensitive bit of exposed flesh he could find. Goosebumps rose on your skin.

“Damn, beautiful,” he managed between kisses, “can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

His bulge rubbed your aching clit deliciously.

You tugged his shirt up over his mess of blonde hair.

He grabbed the deep ‘V’ of your dress and ripped it open, drawing a gasp from you.

“Now we match.” He grinned

“You ass—“

“You’ll have a new outfit by tomorrow afternoon, now shut up.”

True to his word, Bakugo tasted every inch of you. He nibbled your ears making you shiver, licked your nipples making you hiss his name, and devoured your toes like blow pops.

Your body was trembling from sensory overload.

“God..” you moaned.

“You look like you want something, babe,” Bakugo smiled wickedly as he hovered above you. “What is it?”

“Eat me.”

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 3- A Night to Remember

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings for graphic descriptions of unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (receiving), creampie, and minor dom/sub themes

Masterlist

Let no one say Bakugo doesn’t make good on his promises.

You wore a black gown that hugged your figure perfectly and a matching black mask. The dress had been designed specifically with you in mind with silver detailing spiraling throughout. The designer had said she chose it because of the way silver would wind up and branch out along your arms when you used your quirk. “I’m not sure how else to incorporate telekinesis in a dress so I hope this is enough,” the small owl-eyed woman had fretted. “It’s perfect,” you had assured her, and now, as you stepped onto the red carpet with Bakugo on one arm and Midoriya the other, you were proving your assertion correct. The press had, of course, immediately picked up on the lack of an engagement ring on your hand and the lack of a fiancé on your arm but you ignored any and all questions about your engagement as you otherwise charmed the press. Then the minute you all were safely inside the hotel the event was hosted at, you and Bakugo had exchanged mischievous looks before making a beeline to the bar. It had taken Midoriya at least twenty minutes to coax you both from the hotel bar to the main banquet hall and by then you already had a pretty good buzz going. That of course didn’t stop your quest to get blitzed on the agency’s credit, however, as the two of you simply switched from the cocktails downstairs to drinking the complimentary champagne like it was water.

“Kacchan, (y/n)-Chan, please, slow down,” Midoriya fusses. “I didn’t think he’d actually fuss the whole time,” you confess to Bakugo. You’re taking the glass of champagne currently in your hand slower. As much as you’d talked about being the opposite of respectable you don’t want to tip over into sloppy territory. You and Katsuki are a little too friendly and a little too loud and that, in your opinion, is the sweet spot. “Tried to warn you. Go hang with your girlfriend Deku we’re fine,” Bakugo insists. “Are you guys fine though? You know this is technically a work event,” Midoriya chides. “If they didn’t want us to get at least a little drunk they shouldn’t have offered free champagne,” you point out. “We’ll be fine dumbass, go hang with your girl and we’ll stay here and be responsibly drunk,” Bakugo insists. Midoriya looks between the two of you multiple times before casting a look back over his shoulder where he can see Uraraka, Iida, and Yaoyorozu all talking. “We’ll even let you be the one to take us home! Promise!” you add on. Midoriya casts one last skeptical look before breaking. “Ugh, fine. But I’m serious guys! You better stay right here,” Midoriya finally relents. You and Bakugo both give him a mock salute before he finally relaxes and goes to join Uraraka. “Hey Katsuki?” you suddenly pipe up. “What?” “I just realized something.” “What did you realize?” “I’m pretty sure since Monoma and I broke up I’m technically fucking homeless right now.” It’s not funny but the two of you crack up anyway.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Tokoyami groans as he trails behind Hawks, who is on the lookout for Mirko. “Even Dark Shadow thinks this is a horrible plan,” he insists. “Dark shadow does not think this is a horrible plan. Don’t put words in his mouth to prove a point,” Hawks says rolling his eyes. “I’m not, look,” Tokoyami insists. Hawks sighs and turns to face his friend. As the now very familiar black form emerges from Tokoyami’s torso, Hawks is 90% sure he’s about to be proven correct. In reality it’s a very good thing Hawks doesn’t gamble. Dark Shadow had promptly agreed with Tokoyami and it had only made the other man even more smug. “Whatever, I’m still going to find her,” Hawks huffs. “Why are you so insistent?” Tokoyami questions him. “She’s the love of my life! I’m sure of it!” “Oh my god you finally snapped.” “Fuck off.” “She is not the love of your life and even if she was she wants nothing to do with you now!” “You just don’t understand. I have to fight for her back.” “Would you tell her your real name?”

The last question makes Hawks stop in his tracks and whirl around back to this friend. “What are you on about now?” he asks. “If she’s the love of your life would you let her touch your wings and would you tell her your real name and if you had to choose between her and work would you choose her?” Tokoyami presses. Hawks opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He wants to say yes. He wants to stick it to his friend and tell him he would indeed let himself be vulnerable with Mirko because she’s the love of his life so there! But Keigo has always hated lying and he knows the answer is no to all of the above. So he opts instead to say “I don’t see how that’s relevant.” “I give up. When Mirko inevitably slaps you or this otherwise blows up in your face at least try not to let it happen in front of paparazzi. Endeavor is very proud we’ve been bad headline free this month,” Tokoyami sighs before turning the opposite direction and leaving Hawks to his own devices.

“One question remains (y/n),” Katsuki announces to you as you both finish your drinks. “And what would that be?” you giggle. “Who are we taking home tonight? Or I guess who am I taking home and who are you convincing to take you to their home since you’re technically homeless,” he elaborates. “We told Midoriya we’d stay here and he could escort us back home so he wouldn’t have to worry,” you reply. “You were actually going to listen?” “No I was gonna sneak off during the speeches to bang someone and then be back here in time for Midoriya to escort us home.” “Smart woman.” “Thank you.” “So who are you thinking?” he asks.

Your eyes scan the banquet hall before finally alighting on a pair of red wings. He’s wearing a black suit with a tie and mask to match the color of his wings. His sandy blonde hair is wild and you wonder if it was styled that way or if the man had flown here and made it that way. Something about him is magnetic and you can’t explain why but you have a strong desire to follow its pull. “I may have found someone, not sure yet,” you hedge. Bakugo hums in acknowledgment as he too scans around the hall. “Why are you bothering to look?” you ask. “The fuck are you on about?” he questions back. “We both know you’re big gay for Red Riot. I would bet you have been since high school,” you tease. “Shut up,” Bakugo grouses. “Am I wrong though? He’s gotta be around here somewhere,” you say looking around. You finally spot the tell tale red hair of the man Bakugo once drunkenly confessed to you he lusts after. “There he is,” you grin. “I swear to god dumbass,” Bakugo warns, looking suddenly nervous. You roll your eyes and flag down one last glass of champagne. You press it into Bakugo’s hands and then you look him in the eye with all the seriousness your tipsy ass can muster. “Listen here Katsuki. Take this liquid courage, down it in one go, march right up to that sexy ass motherfucker and whisk him off his goddamn feet. You are Katsuki motherfucking Bakugo aka Dynamight aka explosion murder GOD, the number three hero in Japan. Now go get your mans,” you tell him. You watch his crimson eyes fill with determination and you have to resist laughing at the way he looks eerily similar to how he does before a particularly daunting battle. “I’m gonna do it,” he decides. “Fuck yes!” you encourage as he knocks back the champagne before passing you the empty glass and storming over to where Kirishima is.

Meanwhile Hawks is still searching for Mirko when he lays eyes on you instead. It’s like everything else stops. The rest of the world fades away as he watches you talk with Bakugo. There’s something about how casual and wild and free you look, even dressed as elegantly as you are. There’s something different about you and he can’t peel his eyes away. How has he never seen you before? Surely he would’ve noticed someone as captivating as you sooner. The speeches are due to start soon and he really should find a seat or something, but then Bakugo leaves and you’re standing there all alone and Hawks’ feet are taking him over to you without his brain having consciously decided to do so. “Mind if I join you?” he asks before he can talk himself out of it, taking a spot next to you leaning against the table. “Not at all,” you reply with a grin. Mirko walks right past the two of you and he doesn’t even notice, too caught up in your smile and your voice. God your voice is just as beautiful as the rest of you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” Hawks admits. “I could say the same to you,” you fire back. “Trust me this isn’t my first rodeo around here. But I’d remember someone as stunning as you coming to one of these,” Hawks replies easily. “Probably not if I was on another man’s arm,” you admit. “Oh, you have a boyfriend.” “Had a fiancé. Now I’m free,” you pause, looking him up and down, “well free as a bird I guess,” you finish smirking. Hawks laughs at that. “Wow, I definitely haven’t heard that one a million times,” he teases you. “I never said I was creative, just that I was free,” you tell him. When your eyes meet again it’s like a million volts have shot through your gazes and suddenly you’re hungry for him in a way you haven’t been hungry for anyone in a very long time. The lights dim as the first speaker takes the stage, out of the corner of your eye you notice a familiar blonde head leading a red one out of the room. A quick search soon reveals Midoriya eagerly watching the stage for whatever crusty retiree is about to speak. Basically, the coast is clear. “As much as I would love to listen to a bunch of old people recount stories of their hero glory days, what do you say you and I sneak over to the hotel bar for a drink,” you offer. “I’d like nothing more,” Hawks grins.

As it turns out the hotel bar is closed, but you and Hawks have no intentions of letting that stop your fun. After a quick check for security cameras or nosy bystanders, you reach out with your quirk and carefully bring a nice bottle of hard liquor from behind the bar. You promptly pass it to Hawks who raises an eyebrow at you. “I’ve been drinking most of the night, you sir need to catch up,” you explain cheekily. “Fair enough,” Hawks laughs. He cracks open the bottle and takes a long pull from it, wincing a little as it burns down his throat. “Now where to since the bar isn’t an option?” he asks. You pause and think for a moment before coming up with an idea. “Follow me,” you whisper conspiratorially before grabbing Hawks’ hand and dragging him down the hall to the stairs, both of you abandoning your masks as you go.

Hawks has never done anything this wild and reckless before. Regardless of the press’s perception of him, Hawks has had a highly regimented life since the HPSC took him in, and his sense of duty and responsibility had only grown since he properly began his career. Sure, he’s had a few girlfriends over the years, but he truly was looking for love in every one of them. Yes, even the ones after Mirko.

You are something different entirely. What he felt for all of them combined could not compare to the feelings racing through him now as the two of you run up the stairs two at a time, the sound of your footsteps echoing up the tight stairwell. He can’t take it anymore and when the two of you reach the next landing he tugs you into him by your hand and kisses you. He can taste the champagne on your tongue but there’s also something uniquely you in the kiss that he can’t get enough of. So he takes and takes and takes like a man starving and you’re all too happy to give it to him. When you two stop to catch your breath you whisper, “come on, we’re almost there,” and then press another kiss to his lips quickly before tugging him out the door into the hallway.

You keep going until you finally find the door you’re looking for. When you try the handle it’s locked but you’re not concerned. You bend down and extend your quirk into the lock, closing your eyes so you can concentrate. You can feel the different tumblers and get to work pushing at each one experimentally until they click into the proper position and the door unlocks. You grin and push the door open. “After you,” you say. “That’s a neat party trick. You sure you’re a hero?” Hawks teases as he steps into the room. As he finally turns to take it in he realizes you’ve brought him to the hotel pool. “I’m sure,” you laugh, “just grew up a bit rougher than most have. Lockpicking is pretty simple to be honest. Regardless, we should have this place to ourselves.” Hawks can relate but he’s not allowed to tell you that, so instead he asks “Oh really?” “Really.” “Wonder what we should get up to then,” he muses before suddenly pushing you into the water.

It takes a half a second for you to register what’s happening and then you’re plunging under the surface of the water. You quickly resurface and you want to be pissed but your mystery man is laughing and it’s so beautiful it’s as if the sun itself is contained within his smile. Something tells you he doesn’t laugh like this much, so, instead of getting angry, you decide to get even. “Oh you think that’s funny bird boy?” you ask. “I do,” he grins down at you as he stands what he thinks is a safe distance away from the pool’s edge. “Then why don’t you come join me,” you smile back. You reach out with your quirk, feeling it wrap around his body and then tug. You can see the shocked look on his face as your quirk drags him to the water’s edge and then unceremoniously dumps him in the water. As he comes up for air, shaking water out of his hair he looks so affronted but you can see the amusement there too. He hadn’t expected you to retaliate. So now it’s your turn to laugh. Even though your dress is probably ruined and your perfectly styled hair definitely is for the night, you laugh in a way you haven’t in ages. “Oh it’s on now,” Hawks declares and suddenly the two of you are splashing each other like children, both trying to use your quirks to gain an advantage. It’s crazy and chaotic and soon splashing turns to all but wrestling and when he finally has you pinned against him and immobilized, your back to his chest and his arms holding you tightly so you can’t squirm away, both of you stop. You both try to catch your breath, the sound of the water and your heavy breathing echoing off the pool walls. You can feel his growing erection pressing against you and you know how the rest of this will go. You’ve got an impressive resume of one night stand experience, have heard all the lines, so you’re prepared for whichever one he’s about to use. At least you think you are. “I’ve never met anyone like you before,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, “I don’t usually do stuff like this. Someone like you is new to me.” You’re about to roll your eyes when you notice his hands are shaking and it occurs to you that he must mean every word.

You hadn’t expected that. Not at all. This is different than those one night stands. He’s different. The scariest part is that this is new for you too. You don’t do play fighting in the pool. Even with Monoma there had been no magic in the relationship. It was a necessary work deal and then it morphed into something comfortable. When you invited Hawks to the bar you had just meant to drag him away for sex and then leave to go back to the gala the minute you both were satisfied. You’d weather Midoriya’s concerned look and Bakugo would high five you and then you’d forget about the mystery man with the red wings. You turn in his arms, your eyes meet his golden ones, and immediately your heartbeat is kicking in your chest. This is not that. This is more than that.

And that fucking terrifies you.

Before you can fully panic Hawks is kissing you with an intensity you can appreciate and a yearning you are shocked by but can relate to all the same. This is a one night deal. That’s how these things go. But there’s a small, traitorous part of you screaming that it doesn’t have to be this way. So you kiss him like this is the first of many to satiate that small part of you, but you also kiss him like it’s the last one ever because you know that’s the more likely option. You kiss him until kissing isn’t enough and your hands move to push his suit jacket off. He catches onto the memo quickly and removes his jacket easily before tossing it aside. He goes to remove his shirt and fumbles, Jesus Christ his hands are still shaking, so you replace his with yours and carefully begin to undo each button as he instead reaches to pull down the zipper of your dress. Between the two of you and your quirks it isn’t much longer until you’re both naked, pressed together, your clothes laid out on the side in the vague hope they’ll be drier by the time the two of you have to leave the haven you’ve created. You don’t even notice that Hawks is walking you backwards until you feel the pool ledge against your back but small details like that feel irrelevant when he’s got one hand on your waist to keep you steady and the other on your breast to thumb at your sensitive nipple.

“Up,” he commands and it sends a bit of a shiver down your spine as you obediently hop up onto the ledge. You expected him to join you but he doesn’t, instead grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him. It’s interesting looking down on him like this but you think you could get addicted to the hungry look in his eyes. He slowly spreads your thighs apart, maintaining eye contact in a silent request for permission as you realize what he has planned for you. You give a short nod and then he’s diving in, his tongue immediately licking up along your folds. You shudder and your grip on the pool ledge tightens as he finds your clit and begins to lavish attention on it, licking at and sucking on the sensitive nub. You think you could get off on that alone but then he switches focus, not wanting to end things too quickly, as he instead begins to tongue fuck you like his life depends on it. You throw your head back and moan as you feel his tongue sliding in and out of you, his nose occasionally brushing over your still sensitive clit. He reaches one hand up to give your nipples some attention too and soon you can’t help the keening noises that spill from your lips unbidden. You card one hand through his hair and then grab onto some of the locks as you press him in deeper, helping guide him and that magic tongue of his exactly where you want it. It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to reach climax and the look of smug satisfaction on his face after has you hungry for more of him.

You’d let him be the boss so far but it’s your turn now. “I need you up here now bird boy,” you pant as you try to catch your breath, tugging on his hair to emphasize your point. He looks a little bewildered but you can tell by the way his dick twitches he’s not opposed. “Yes ma’am,” he replies cheekily as he climbs out of the pool. As soon as he’s on the side with you you move to straddle his hips and his hands instinctively go to your waist. “Ready?” you ask and he quickly nods his head. You don’t need any more encouragement as you line yourself up and then slowly sink yourself down onto his dick. For some reason the moment you’ve fully sunk down and he’s buried all the way inside you is incredibly overwhelming. So overwhelming, in fact, you think you might cry. It’s inexplicable, but when your eyes meet Hawks’ you can tell he feels exactly the same. You stare at each other with watery eyes as he whispers “This is...” and trails off, shaking his head as he struggles to find the words to describe this moment. “Heaven in hiding,” you finish for him and it’s like something clicks into place in both your hearts. “Yea. This is heaven in hiding,” he confirms and then he’s kissing you and there’s something there you’re too terrified to identify but you still give it back to him.

You start moving, lifting your hips slowly before sinking back down onto him again and the way he whimpers into your mouth is intoxicating. He lets you control the rhythm as you ride his dick, instead focusing on trailing kisses down your neck as he rubs and pinches your nipples. You’re so incredibly tight around him that he can barely stand it. So he allows himself this surrender, allows himself to be lost in you and wholly unrestrained for the first time in a very, very long time. “Can I-?” you ask with your hand reaching for, but stopping just shy of, his wings so he can see what you’re doing and decide first. He drops his hands to your waist to still you for a second as he stares at your face in wonder almost. “No one’s bothered to ask before,” he confesses and he hadn’t really realized how much that bothered him until now. “They should’ve,” you reply simply. He takes hold of one of your hands and brings it to his mouth to press a kiss to your knuckles before guiding your hand to one of his wings. You carefully run your hands through the feathers beneath your fingertips, shocked at their softness, and notice the way he shivers at the touch. “Are they sensitive?” you ask curiously as you continue to stroke them. “Fuck. Yes baby, very,” he groans as he leans forward to rest his head against your shoulder, his grip on your hips tightening. You experimentally clench your fist around a handful of the feathers and tug slightly, immediately his hips buck up into you and he groans. “It’s ok I’ve got you,” you tell him. He pulls back so he can finally look into your eyes again and quietly replies “I know.”

You’re not even sure who initiated it this time when the two of you begin kissing each other again. You start riding him again, the two of you quickly finding a tender rhythm together to move in sync. His wings flare and puff up behind him as if loving the sudden attention you’re giving them and as you continue to stroke through them Hawks brings one of his hands to your clit to provide extra stimulation to you too. Your moans echo back to you and it’s like the two of you are creating a symphony in this little safe haven you’ve created for yourselves in the hotel pool and it’s all so much. Almost too much. You can feel tears on your cheeks and you’re not sure if they’re yours or his, but you don’t care. You don’t care in the slightest you just need him, all of him. Finally you give a particularly strong tug on his feathers and it’s enough to have him crying out as he reaches his orgasm. The feeling of him filling you up and the gorgeous picture he makes is enough to send you over the edge as well and there’s nothing either of you can do besides hold each other tightly, moans choking out of your throats like sobs as you’re overwhelmed by your climaxes and the unnamed feelings bursting between the two of you.

When the feeling finally passes it leaves both of you somewhat drained as you pant to catch your breath. Hawks carefully reaches a hand to your cheek and brushes away your tears. You’re more than happy to return the favor. Turns out both of you had been crying. “Was that as insane and overwhelming for you as it was me,” Hawks asks quietly. “Yea... Yea it really fucking was,” you confess. “Good,” Hawks replies before pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. Both of you have the distinct thought, “I could stay like this forever,” at the same time, but it would seem the universe has other plans.

Your quiet moment is disturbed by the sound of an alarm blaring overhead. You both curse your luck but still are in no hurry to move. You carefully remove yourself from his dick, trying diligently to ignore how obscene it looks to watch his cum start to dribble out of you and how it feels like a loss for it not to stay. Hawks seems to be having similar thoughts but tears his eyes away as he goes to get dressed. You use your quirk to squeeze out as much water as you can from your dress without further damaging it. The alarm is still blaring and you’re both well aware you should be moving with more urgency but it’s hard to make yourselves leave the little world you created for yourselves in here. Once you’re both redressed you quietly clasp each other’s hands and finally leave the room.

The alarm is even louder in the hallway and it’s like the magic of the previous moment is shattered by it. “We probably should arrive separately. Avoid scandal and all that,” you say. “You’re right,” he admits. Neither of you let go of the other’s hand. Finally you sigh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, before slipping your hand from his and heading the opposite direction. You both jog away in a bid to exit the building and figure out what’s going on when a thought strikes you. You don’t know each other’s names. You decide it’s for the best. Hawks spins around to try and catch up to you and ask but you’re already gone. It feels like an ending.

It’s actually only the beginning.

Author’s Note: I typically try to keep the reader’s quirk nonspecific in my work because I know a lot of people have ideas of what they’d want their quirk to be if they were in the MHA universe but (y/n)’s quirk has plot relevance so I gave her a specific one. She can move objects with her mind (telekinesis) but she feels it almost like a physical sensation, as if there’s an invisible extension of herself reaching out to grab things. It’s why she can use it for something as specific as picking a lock. As y’all can see this one got away from me lol but I hope it’s worth the wait. OH ALSO the pool scene is inspired by the one from Baz Luhrman’s Romeo and Juliet.

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff

[snacc-noir]

Unseal and Reveal pt2

Ao3

Part 1

Adapted from this post

Summary:

Adrien asks Marinette to fake date him after his father finds a pink ‘love note’ containing just her name on it

— but it was really the emergency note Ladybug gave him in case he needed to know her identity

Adrien has screwed up. 

But before anything begins, he’d like to make it very clear that he’s only ever had good intentions, believable smiles, and incredible lying ability – no matter what his friends say (“You once told Alya you had a great dentist so Marinette wouldn’t be suspicious”), because he’s kept the fact he’s Chat Noir under wraps and no one has been the wiser. 

Then again, Chat Noir is stylish, handsome, incredibly dressed, insanely hilarious, im(pecc)ably ripped, totally— 

Yeah, so Adrien just can’t live up to that (If it came down to it, he’d totally fall in love with himself if circumstances allowed.), and thus his identity is pretty secure , unlike his self-esteem on a good day. 

Specifically, today. 

Because he has screwed up.  

So yes, he’s somehow the best and worst liar ever, which probably likens to how it isn’t his secret identity that he Accidentally (three underlines for ‘accidentally’) reveals, but, uh, someone else’s. 

Ladybug’s. 

He knows Ladybug’s identity.  

But hey! Hey— remember, her idea. It was never him who suggested the ‘let’s write our names on letters in case we need to know in an emergency’, as that was definitely her. 

He’s screwed everything up, but it was definitely her. 

“Did you know? ” 

“Duh,” his kwami’s gravel voice says, “I know everything.” 

Adrien’s hands are rousing his hair so much at this point he might expose himself as Chat Noir if anyone went by his lean windows. “You knew this whole time!? That Ladybug is– That she’s– That—”  

All air escapes him in a corrupt elongated syllable. He flops on his Extra King size bed with silk sheets and fluffed pillows, almost knocking his model agency’s branded hydro-flask onto the desk adjacent with three exorbitant monitor screens. Oh, how difficult his life is.  

“You’re so pathetic.” 

He is.  

“This is hilarious.” 

It is not.  

‘“What am I supposed to do, Plagg?! Call her? ‘Hey love of my life, it’s me Adrien, but you also know me as Chat Noir. I accidentally found out your identity and long story short, my household thinks we’re dating and wants you over for dinner. Are you up for fake-dating and not killing me, please?” 

His kwami skulls a camembert roll. “I’m down for that idea.” 

Adrien pegs a sock. 

“How are you so calm?” 

“I shrugged in the face of dinosaur extinction. Your damsel in distress crisis – you’re the damsel, by the way – and ‘oohhh no, I’m so in love’ hullabaloo is nothing.” 

Adrien’s frown deepens. “I don’t sound like that.” 

“You do. Your voice goes like eee .” 

“What? No it doesn’t” 

“You’re right, it’s more like ahhh . ” 

The heat in Adrien’s acid eyes smarten. He crosses his arms, huffing in a way he hasn’t since early childhood, and glares at his ceiling. “I’m done talking to you.” 

He isn’t, of course, as there’s only one person in his life he can complain to about his array of #RelatableTeenBoy issues, like ditching your favourite topic of Physics one class to cater to a Giant Baby akuma (again) and being late due to lack of places to change into your skin-tight cat suit (you know; just those little things). And by Hawk Moth’s insufferable menacing he isn’t letting that outlet fall from under him. He needs to clear his thoughts, because believe him, there is a lot to sift, and it doesn’t help when part of this whole catastrophe has left him with the knowledge that— 

“Marinette is Ladybug!” 

Plagg has moved to Adrien’s three-panelled computer desk and is clicking through something. “I’m so glad you’ve caught up.” 

“And if she’s Ladybug, that means,” he goes on, white overshirt sleeves now uneven as he animates his words with a pillow, “she was just saying to me – to Chat – she was in love with him to save her identity! And there’s another boy she’s in love with! And–! And I might know who it is!” 

“Who?” Plagg asks, the volume juxtaposing his welder’s. 

“I said 'might’.” 

The keys click louder. “You mean because you know Ladybug in real life you could have met him before? Or you actually know him?” 

“I don’t know! I just know that Marinette’s… She’s in love with another guy.” The earlier exhilaration drains and his chest feels hollow and soul-sucking. “Wait– I can’t ask her to be my fake-girlfriend!” 

The destructive god scrolls through the itemised shopping cart to double-check his fromage orders without any fear of his owner noticing. Well you obviously don’t have a choice. Your dad wants her over for dinner. Besides, it’s Ladybug, remember? She’ll do anything to help a friend out.” 

Ladybug. 

Marinette. 

Of course.  

There are still many things that don’t add up (Multimouse: just how?) but of course. 

He can’t risk his own identity and hers to his father. He must keep the façade up. And if that mean s falling on his knees in front of who unarguably should be the most glorified woman in the world, crying to her to please just be his fake – very much, but unfortunately fake – girlfriend.  

He will. 

He’ll do it right now. 

- 

“I can’t believe you chickened out.” 

Walks to school, even with the cost of waking up earlier, are always more refreshing than drives in cold silence. The freedom here is less pale, and he can hiss at Plagg all he wants with only the dignity loss of onlookers noticing him crankily talking to himself. 

“Oh wait, yes I can. Because you’re a coward~. ” 

“I did not ‘chicken out’,” Adrien snaps. “And I’m no coward. I just— I need to speak to her in person instead. This way, she didn’t have to receive an unwanted call so late.” 

 “You mean six?” 

He huffs. “Marinette needs all the sleep she can get.” He pokes the creature back into his overshirt. “She’s always so busy. Even you’ve seen her collapse in class. Wait—!” 

The only one that waits is himself, columned with the line of trees ahead, locked in the interval of his soap opera as his audience darts for a shiny rock near a fire hydrant. 

“Because she’s Ladybug too! Of course! Of course! This makes so much sense! She’s so tired and overworked! It’s no wonder she’s all over the place – in the best of ways, I mean, she’s literally adorable when she’s frantic. Wait, have I always thought that? Have I always seen Marinette as the cutest thing ever? Her spluttering is so endearing. And if she’s already so tired, I can’t make her fake date me, too! She’s already so stressed! I’d literally be the scum of the earth if I even dare—” 

Plagg is staring at him with flat interest. Humbly aware of his judgement, Adrien swallows, letting the air untense and clams his hands – eager to narrate his animated allegory – in his pockets in strife to get a grip.  

He sighs. 

“What if I mess it up, Plagg?” 

He inventories his new rock in Adrien’s satchel. A hymn of silence roots in the place of what should be a snide remark. But there is no fed-up comment, just a kwami wriggling under his overshirt out of sight and a solemn voice that issues from it,  

“Kid, you’re partners. You work together. You forgive each other. You trust each other. And if Ladybug trusts you,” he sticks his head out a little more, “find it in you to trust yourself. You won’t mess this up if you put her and her identity’s safety first, which I know you will, because you love her and you’re a great hero.” 

Adrenaline dampening, Adrien smiles.  

“Thanks, Plagg.” 

- 

Marinette has never believed in bad luck until she met Chat Noir (fifty Mr Pigeon akumatisations this year with a feather allergy? The next lucky charm is going to be an Epi-pen) and for a while, she didn’t believe in good luck, even with being Ladybug. 

But that was then. Back then, meaning like, ten minutes ago before she was invited to stay back after PE by Adrien. 

Right now, though? Right now, she’s decided she’s going to hand-sew a bedazzled shirt embossed with, “Goddess of Luck” to wear while Ladybug on patrol (and on the back, a quote she woke up to on Instagram this morning: ‘“can also kick ass” – Adrien Agreste’ (she took ten screenshots when he posted that)), because Marinette has good luck.   

“You’ll be doing me a huge favour,” the ass-kicking quoter says on an afternoon she has not planned to receive the most exciting request of her life. 

And you know what she says? 

You know what the stuttering girl who may as well trademark the word ‘GAH’ she falls that much, says? 

You’ll never guess. 

No really, you won’t. 

Because turns out, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than just accomplished. 

So what if she thrones the winning title of a Gabriel fashion comp? What even matters of being class president and an all-around likable person? Who takes notice of another fashion mogul inviting you to live in New York because of your talent? ––An invitation you had to decline because, you know, being Paris’ zero-pay superheroine has a sprinkle more of importance. And oh, did she mention she’s Ladybug? Because she’s Ladybug. A superhero.  

But none of that matters right now. 

“I’d be happy to help.” 

Because she’s said yes.  

She—Marinette McStutter Dupain-Cheng—has said yes with her mouth (not vague hand animations over blubbering nonsense) to Adrien, and although her muscles are locked with their key over the Eiffel tower (and the tiny detail that her thoughts are screaming so much she can’t hear a thing of his relief and numerous ‘thank you’s), she’s still said yes!  

Screw every other accomplishment. She’s said yes to being Adrien’s fake girlfriend. 

Ladybug? Nah, that’s Mrs. Fake Agreste to you.  

Good luck is real.  

Okay but sure, ‘Fake girlfriend’ doesn’t exactly live up to ‘Very real girlfriend’, but being a fake isn’t that bad! She’s seen Lila do it every day for months – oh, hang on, no actually the term ‘fake’ has very negative and huge implications, then. However, in Marinette’s heavenly-blessed case, ‘fake’ means she’s doing a very big favour for a friend and is going to get more time with Adrien – just to name a few positives.  

“Seriously Marinette, you have no idea how much this means to me. I can’t believe I’m so lucky to have a friend like you.” 

‘Oh honey, I’m the lucky one. ’ 

“It’s– It’s no problem! Yeah! Really, I’ll come to dinner, no problem! It can’t be too hard. I can be your girlfriend! Eugh– Pretend girlfriend. It’s not hard being in love with you! I mean– Ugh!” 

The monstrosity that is the never-shutting-up hole in her face is blocked off by frantic hands, stifling the last of her eloquent groan. But peering up, she realises she really has underestimated how much this means to Adrien, because he looks like he’s poised on a cliff of ecstasy ready to fall – eyes verdant, big, and lushed over with a hue of moisture that twinkles, and a smile so bright and toothy the sunlight hollowing out the remaining shade of the PE stadium glints off it.  

In fact, her mess of a speech is such a compliment to Adrien that her locked-limbed body is suddenly engulfed by his. Startled in delightful senses of the word, she squeaks, and he quickly pulls away, face a few rose tones darker than before as his hands twitch at his side unsurely. 

“Uhh, I guess we have to get planning.” 

She watches in transfixed attraction as Adrien picks both their schoolbags up, finally blurting (without any squeak, she may add), 

“Y–Yes. We do.” 

(she didn’t say any stutter, so shut up.) 

“Would your father let you come over right now since school’s almost finished?” 

He casts a look to the exit thoughtfully. His flawless side-profile in high resolution before her, she sees the corner of his mouth quirk up in an unsettling familiar way, as if his whole charisma shifts to someone else’s.  

They do need to plan; to run away together, where only they share this odd secret - a place alone together where they'll look each other eye-to-eye and practice their sonnets of love to construct a believable facade for his father-

“It’s more fun sneaking to my girlfriend’s house, isn’t it?” 

That time, she squeaks.

And comes to the daunting realisation:

Marinette is screwed. 

[magaprima]

Okay *cracks knuckles* Let’s talk about just how powerful Lilith is. I will be using some of her actual mythology as logic/background info, but primarily I will only be talking about what we canonically see and imply within the CAOS world. I’ll be using logic and actual outright examples. 

First, the logic: 

We gather from the show that the older and more experienced a witch or warlock is, the more powerful they are. A clear example of this is while Sabrina needs tools to banish a demon, Blackwood is able to banish with a simple command. We also see how Sabrina, after decades in stone, is more powerful, because even without practice, time has had its effect. Lilith, is older than every other witch on the show. She is the first witch. The FIRST witch. No one is older than her in witch world, and if we go off her mythology and what typically gets given as the time since Eden, she’s averaging about 6000 years old. I think we’ve had it confirmed that Zelda and Hilda are somwhere between 250 and 300, given they weren’t alive in 1693, but Hilda was apparently old enough to be off partying on the Thames in 1837, and we establish she was in England raising Ambrose, so she is a hell of a lot older than everyone, a hell of a lot more experienced and knows a hell of a lot more spells. So she’s powerful on that basis. 

Lilith is not just any witch, she is not someone who got powers by signing the Book of the Beast, she is a witch of her own making with no conditions. This we know from her mythology (she said the holy name, giving herself powers and the freedom to leave Eden), but it’s also confirmed in that we see in the passion play Lilith already had Stolas, her ‘familiar’, before she met the Dark Lord, and when Lucifer is draining everyone’s powers, he is unable to drain Lilith’s. Lilith stays at full witch capacity. So the fact her powers are not dependent on a fallen angel or God giving her those powers, but powers she’s claimed for herself, also make her very powerful, because her gifts come from herself and cannot be taken away. 

She is also, due to her time in Hell and her role in Hell, the Mother of Demons, and a demoness herself. As  she said to the Spellmans she is a witch, but she’s not only a witch. Being the Mother of Demons and/or a demoness, comes with powers in its own right, powers that aren’t witchy but are infernal. So she’s powerful in that she has extra magic going on, but also she has literally Mothered demons in Hell, which gives her a certain amount of power and agency over the realm, even if the Plague Kings don’t want to admit it and even if Sabrina wants to ignore that. Being the Mother of Demons doesn’t just give her authority, it gives her power. 

She was created by the False God from earth. Divine, celestial energy was breathed into her by a God in order to bring her to life, and she was made from earth, the most powerful, magical thing there is; the earth itself. The very origins of her creation add to her power. 

All of this means that, as much as Sabrina’s role as daughter of Lucifer does make her powerful, she is not as powerful as Lilith, she physically can’t be (even if the writers like to forget that sometimes). And that brings me to the canon examples.

The big one; restraining Satan. Sabrina tries to trap him in the Acheron but it fails and he breaks free. He shouts ‘I am the great Satan which no prison can contain!’ and storms towards Sabrian violently, and is brought to an abrupt stop by Lilith. She ‘contains’ him. She holds him there with just her own telekinetic power. No spells, no aids or potions; just her own unadulterated power. This is one of the few flashes we get in the show of Lilith’s undiluted strength, showing us just what she’s capable of. She also does it with confidence. She doesn’t reach out her hand in panic and hope it works, she knows her power will hold him because she shouts ‘Hold that nasty thought!’ very glibly as she pulls him to an abrupt stop. And then Satan strains against it, he fights her power so much in his desperation to get free, but HE CAN’T. The Dark Lord is fighting to get free,and all that’s holding him there is Lilith, yet he can’t free himself. Lilith admits she can’t restrain him for long, but she holds him there for several minutes and chooses to release him when Nick does the binding spell. We never actually see Lucifer break free, so who knows how long she’d be able to hold him. The fact she can do this canonically shows us she is more powerful than all the other characters, including Sabrina. 

She returns Sabrina’s powers to her. The only other people we’ve seen bestow powers on witches are The Dark Lord (a fallen angel. A celestial) and Hecate (a Goddess). This puts Lilith on a par with both of them. It also shows she has her own source of magic as I said above. We confirm in Part 3 that Lucifer’s powers come from him being an angel  and it’s his celestial energy that allow him to bestow powers on his witches. Lilith therefore has her own power source too which allowed her to return Sabrina’s powers to her. Even though what she returned to her was Satan’s powers (showing Lilith, while Lucifer was bound, also had power over his gifts too), it stands to reason that if she is able to do this she is also able to bestow her own powers. Only...no one thought to ask in Part 3. 

She resurrected Mary without a sacrifice. Resurrecting people without sacrifices, without the life-for-a-life rule has been shown to be the exclusive of beings such as Lucifer and Hecate and things such as the Cain Pit. The fact Lilith is able to do this, and very easily too, shows, yet again, that she is on a par with them. The fact the writers said, in a quote about part 4 ‘Zelda has turned to an even older Goddess than Lilith’, implies even the writers see Lilith as Goddess level in her powers. 

She sent a soul to Heaven with the flick of a hand and she wasn’t even Queen anymore when she did this. She doesn’t do a big spell, she doesn’t do a ritual, she doesn’t even make any effort; she simply flicked her hand and Jesse left hell and flew straight up to Heaven. 

Similarly, she was able to banish Beelzebub with a flick of the hand too (probably one of the reason he didn’t want her as Queen. Holding a grudge). Sabrina, we’ve seen, needed tools to banish demons, Blackwood had magical commands to do it, but Lilith doesn’t say a word. She just flicks her hand dismissively, and Beelzebub is banished back to Hell, not only confirming how powerful she is in general but showing she is more powerful than the Plague Kings.

Which leads onto the point of how they’d challenged her for the throne once before and she beat them back. She says, before Sabrina’s arrival, ‘we will not have our sovereignty challenged again’, meaning they challenged her and she defeated them. This would have been a display of both physical and political power. Yet, when Sabrina comes in, they suddenly start Regalia challenges (the implication being that if they’d made that challenge to Liltih they suspected there was too much risk of her winning. They felt more confident with Sabrina, and reasonably so, as without the help of Ambrose, Lilith and Lucifer she wouldn’t have found any of the items. And there’s no way Lilith would have just let him pick up Herod’s crown). The hordes of Hell know Lilith  is very powerful, they just didn’t like her being Queen. 

She summons the Greendale Thirteen pretty damn easily. That was a big summoning of thirteen long dead ghosts, and conjuring them to be solid enough for them to be able to interact with and touch the living, even starting fires and summonings of their own. Essentially, she did a temporary resurrection with a very simple blood spell. 

She enchanted a ring to hide Adam from the Dark Lord. This is a spell that gets overlook I think in showing Lilith’s power and knowledge. Lilith was able to enchant an object so that the wearer would be unseen by The Dark Lord himself. She was able to hide a freaking person from his sight. That not only requires a lot of power, but shows immense knowledge of magic; an unchallengable knowledge really. I mean the only reason Adam was ever found was that Stolas told on them. If not for him, the ring would have worked permanently which is one freaking impressive charm to make. 

Lucifer seems to believe she is the only one capable of performing the Ritual of Separation. I mean if anyone could do it, he could easily have gone to Nick, or any of the coven, since everyone was wandering about and didn’t seem to be entering a protective circle for a while. And if it’s because he’d taken away even their power to do rituals, there are many people in Hell that would technically be capabe, people who are very loyal to him. And then there’s other witches in the world, ones who still worship Satan, the list goes on. But I think it’s a case of Lilith being the only one who he can trust to do the Ritual correctly and successfully, but also she’s the only one with enough power to match his.

She siren songs the Dark Lord to sleep quite effortlessly, which again is immense power. Much like when she siren songed Sabrina and freaking STOPPED TIME. The woman has power over time too, which the show doesn’t make clear whether it’s also linked to her siren song or not, but either way, time manipulation is also in her repertoire of power. But yes, she siren songs the Dark Lord to sleep, and then wakes up only Blackwood. That requires immense skill and power over the mind and the subconscious, something much more precise and powerful than even the nightmares of her ‘daughter’ Batibat. 

Finally, in notes of immense power, she gives Blackwood the Mark of Cain. In the bible this is only ever given by God, that is the False God. We have Lilith, yet again, doing something we have only confirmed Gods doing, putting her yet again on a par with them.

And all this power is why I just don’t buy how Caliban managed to encase Lilith in stone. And even Lucifer for that matter. Or how they were gone at all. It just seemed a bit of ‘ignoring their power’ in order to allow Sabrina to ‘save’ the world on her own. 

[merci-bitch]

I Can Make You Love Me

Riza’s girl part ll 

Riza Stavropol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Drama, small hint of NSFW, angst

Words: 3k

Warning(s): knife mark, small hint of smut, cursing, manipulation, angst

A/N: well, I’m surprised I even finished this. This doesn’t particularly mean I’m back but I’ve been fighting my own stuff but I’m starting to come back at least haha. I haven’t read through it so sorry if there’s any misspelling or stuff. Anyways, enjoy!

I was soaked in a pool of sweat and the heat blazing down from the sun on us through her widow didn't make the situation any better. I felt like I was in a sauna and I definitely felt tired. I could feel Riza's piercing blue eyes like the clear waters of Greece targeting me. Marking me.

"Well, how was it?" I rolled over on my side to look at her. I had two options, of an answer. One would please her very much and the other one, meh. It would piss her off.

"Terrible." I mussed sarcastically. I watched the cocky smirk on her face fade and I let out a laugh. "You little bitch!" She playfully smacked my ass. "Naughty girl, aren't you?" She bit her bottom lip and watched me carefully.

"When I want to be." I smiled. Riza leant her head down and crashed her own lips onto mine. Her teeth bitting my bottom lip for an entry to my mouth. Hesitantly, I opened my mouth and felt her tongue mix with my own. She was dominating me. When she pulled away we were both panting and she looked satisfied. "I take it back. My good girl." She pulled me close and caressed my face.

I felt content in her arms but I was still on edge. "Darling?" She loosened her grip on me and cubbed my cheek with her hand. "What's wrong?" I looked down before answering. "I-sorry, I'm just...I'm just a little worried about H."

"H?" She looked angry and kinda surprised. "We just had sex and now you're thinking of H?!" She sat up.

"R-Riza, I didn't mean-"

"Oh no, my darling. You did mean it. You most certainly did. I told you he's an asshole, Y/N. I told you he's no good." Her eyes gleamed with malicious intent and I felt scared. Scared she was going to hurt me even worse then she already did.

"You still love him, don't you?" Riza was almost on the border of yelling. "Don't you?!" She got in my face and that's when I pushed her off of me.

"No! But I still care about him and he's trying his best. He's the only person I have left who's like family to me and don't I have the right to feel anyway I want? Or do you own that too." I knew that I was playing with fire but despite the fear I had for Riza, she was so beautiful when she was mad. I couldn't help but love it. How her nose would curl, adorable.

"Yes. You do but not when we're in the middle of something ourselves! For example, finishing sex! You love me, don't you?" She started to sound desperate.

"Riza-"

"You want me. The way you've never wanted anyone befo-"

"You know I do but I told you, I believe in chances and right now? You're about to lose yours. As soon as I said those words, Riza's face dropped. A part of me regretted what I had said. She looked hurt. Betrayed. She lied down again and turned her back towards me. "Riza...Riza, I'm sorry."

"I'm not speaking to you." She said after a few minutes. Her tone was cold and it made me feel uncomfortable. "Riza, I didn't mean to hurt you but I'm worried."

"Worried about him? Worried about that fucking traitor? He's a jerk. I told you that." She spun around and looked at me. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you but I care about you, okay? I care about you more then I've cared about anyone in a while and I don't want to lose you. Her eyes turned soft.

"You won't lose me, okay? I care about you too, but I can at least have the right to know that he's alright." Riza let out a sigh. "If I tell you he's alright, will you leave the topic be?" She kissed my nose and help me tight to her. "..Yes." I breathed inwardly.

"Then he's fine. I promise." Despite the anxiety I felt, I trusted her words and slowly began to snuggle into her. "Thank you." She ran her fingers through my hair and gave my forehead a kiss. "Get some rest." I nodded my head and clutched onto her tightly. She was so warm and smelled so sweet despite all the sweat she was caked in. "I love you."

"I love you too, my precious girl."

***

"You bitch! This is the final straw!"

"We'll see about that."

H looked down at the ground, frowning as he'd seen you coming in and out of consciousness. "You hurt her Riza! Why would you do that? I told you that this is between you and me."

"But it's not though." She kicked the ground, showing off her tone legs through her silk dress. "Haven't you missed me, H?"

"Missed you? The thought of you repulses me. Especially now. You're lucky I haven't killed you after what you did." H said as he slowly started backing down the hallway and Riza chuckled. "Oh pretty boy, you forget that I can read you like the back of my hand." Riza pressed her body close to him and pinned him to the wall.

"Not anymore. I'm a changed person." She held his face in her hands and smiled. "Sure you are." Riza slipped one of her hands underneath his shirt, scratching the bare skin of his chest. His eyes rolled back and Riza couldn't help but smile. "And you say I don't know you."

"Riza-" He meet her eyes almost as if he was in a trace. "H." She mumbled. Their lips nearly grazed each other when H noticed her extra arm moving around him. "What are you-"

BAM!

The smashed barrel of her gun hit the top of his head. H looked puzzled for a moment and Riza smiled, pushing him away from her. "How did you-" He slurred his words before dropping to the ground.

***

"Oh come on, H! One more dance, please!" H winced at the high pitched voice of the woman that had her arm wrapped around his waist but tolerated it. He was hammered from all the alcohol he had been drinking but who could blame him?

It was a long dat at the agency and he needed a break from it all. "Amanda, I would say yes but I'm afraid I'm spent for the night an I must get going."

"But H-"

"No Amanda. Now if you'll excuse me-" H turned around and walked straight into the chest of two alien men. "You're the agency scum that got your hands on our girl?"

The question took him off guard. Their girl? "What, I-I! Know? Come on guys that would be ridiculous." He chuckled nervously. "Wouldn't it?"

The two men in front of him didn't seem amused. The one bulkier grabbed him by his throat and pressed him against the wall. "You calling me liar?"

"No! I-I..." H felt the blood circulating through him becoming less and less. "Let him be, Dorian. He's with me. Aren't you, darling?"

H choked on his own breath and looked up at the face of savior. It was a woman, and she was beautiful. "My apologies, Riza." She let out a humming noise and pulled a blaster out of her silk dress. H got a quick glimpse of her sheer underwear and felt himself swell up with lust.

"Sure." Riza shot him and screams of panic were erupted inside the bar. H just sat there on the ground looking at her confusedly until he noticed she had extended her hand out towards him. "Shall we?"

Despite how wrong he knew it was, he took her hand and walked out the bar with her hand in hand. "What's your name handsome?"

"H. Agent H."

"Oh, an agent. Well, I'm Riza. Riza Stavros."

"Riza, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." She hummed. They come across a tan, Moroccan style building and Riza smiled. "I would take you back to my place, but sadly. I'm on business."

"Of course." Riza grabbed the keys out of her bra and unlocked the door, kicking off her heels right as she stepped in the door. H was baffled by her. He was sure she had to be one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. "Sit, darling." Riza gestured to the couch as she rummaged through one of the cabinets of her hotel room. Pulling out a glass tumbler.

"You drink whiskey?" She looked over at H while holding up the bottle. "Yes, thank you." She poured him a glass and poured one for herself and sat down next to him on the couch and handed him his glass. H took a taste, it burned his throat at first but left a smooth aftertaste.

“So what’s an agent like yourself doing here?”

The alcohol burned in his throat but left a sweet aftertaste. He thought carefully before responding. Though he didn’t know what good it would do. It was like Riza was staring into his soul. “Looking for a good time, I suppose.”

“Good time with the wrong woman, my dear.” She caressed his cheek with the back of her thumb and smiled. “You’re such a beautiful man, aren’t you? Pretty boy.” Riza said while crawling onto his lap. H didn’t know what to do or what to say. He was shell shocked and drunk.

Riza peppered kisses on his face and down his throat and H moaned. “Lustful for me already, aren’t you?” H didn’t respond. Part of him wanted to shove the woman on top of him aside but he just, couldn’t. She was just too, goddess like. “Y-Yes.”

***

H woke up, rubbing the back of his head. Shaking his head. That’s when he realised, he was stuck to a bloody chair. After minutes of fighting with the ties, he got lose and stood up. H’s iconic smile back on his sweet baby face. “Never do know how to tie me up, now do you Riza.”

H slowly walked out the room, moving around slowly. Begging for that big blue teddy monster not to walk around the corner. Coast is clear. H walked down the long hallway and despite the years since he’d been here. He almost no trouble finding his way around. All those drunk nights with Riza. Her hands scratching up his chest, back. Her sweet lips on his-no. Not this time. Get Y/N and get out of here.

H was too deep in thought, missing a step. “Shit!” Covering his mouth quickly. Looking around. Surprise, no one was around. H shakes his head again and continued down the hallway and took a sharp left turn. There was a door, cracked open. Hesitantly H opened it.

“Oh god.” H said as he turned back around. There she was, Y/N. But naked. He’d never seen her naked before. H felt his cheeks grown hot, like some middle  aged school boy. Damn Riza, for getting them into this. H knew that Y/N was going to be embarrassed when she saw him. If, she ever got to see him of course,

H didn’t trust Riza as far as he’d known her. How the hell did he know that she wasn’t fake sleeping?

Hesitantly he walked over to Y/N and shook her, softly. H didn’t wanna wake her almost. So looked so peaceful when she was asleep. Y/N let out a small groan and opened her eyes. “H..? Oh my god! H!” Her arms flew around his neck. H tensed his shoulders. He didn’t know if he should hug her back or not, afraid of upsetting her. “Riza told me you were alright but I thought I’d never see you again!” Ever so carefully, H ran his hand through Y/N’s soft hair. Glancing over at Riza. “Well, she definitely isn’t awake. That’s for sure. Or I’d be dead by now.”

H couldn’t help the thoughts about Y/N. Damn Riza for making him think this way about her! “Look Y/N, we don’t have much time. We need to get out of here. Your clothes?” Y/N pointed to the end of the bed. H tossed Y/N her clothes and let her get changed. H helped Y/N our of the bed, that’s when Riza stirred. Both H and Y/N panicked. The balcony! They both walked out on it and Y/N pushed H to the side.

“Now why on earth would you do that?” Riza’s deep and raspy voice sent shivers down both H and Y/N’s spines. “Do what?” Y/N asked. Riza walked up to Y/N. “This.” She gestured to her clothed body. The moon was shining on her skin, highlighting the most seductive parts.

“It felt weird to run around naked.” Riza ran her hand up Y/N’s sides. Placing one of her hands on her breast. Kneading it softly. Starting to fumble with her jeans. “I can make it more comfortable for you if you like.” Y/N let out a soft moan and leaned her head back against Riza’s collarbones. H wanted to throw up at the sight of it. The smell of sex permeating off of Riza. This scene was getting almost too nostalgic for him. H tried his very best not to let his eyes wander with how Riza’s hand touched Y/N’s body. How her mouth would launch for her throat and leave small marks.

“Why don’t you come back inside, sweetheart. Hm? What do you say.” Riza’s voice was like honey running. “Riza, we just did it. There’s no need to do it again.” H could hear Riza scoff. “You can’t be serious. It’s sex darling. Something you could do a whole day. And I’ve got a very busy day in a few hours. I need something to calm me down.” H felt himself gag. He took a few steps back and accidentally made a plant fall. Riza snapped her head around. “Oh you’re fucking kidding me. LUCA!” Riza tied her rope around herself and grabbed Y/N’s arm and dragged her inside and once again, H found himself fighting with an old friend.

—

“Am I some sort of joke to you?!” Riza screamed at my face. I shaked my head. Tears burning in the back of my eyes. Riza’s cheeks burning up with anger. Riza took steps back and threw her hands on her sides and scoffed and grabbed the wine bottle on her office table. “R-Riza..?” She threw the cork across the room. “Shut up. Just fucking shut up. You humans, fucking useless.” She scoffed again and started drinking directly from the wine bottle. I sat down, pulling my knees to my chest. This could only go bad.

After 3 wine bottles, she was finally starting to get tipsy. Tipsy Riza was alright, but if it was drunk angry Riza. Run for your fucking life. Where was H when you needed him?!

“Oh drop it, H won’t come this time for you. He’d be dead before he can even spell your fucking name.” Riza held the bottle to her chest and laughed out loud. This wasn’t fun anymore. “Awh, is the little human scared? You want your mommy?” She started taking small steps towards me. Making me back away slowly, towards the stone wall. The floor cold, dirty. Filled with smashed glass. She got down on her knees and crawled towards me. Giving me a good view of her cleavage. My back was against the wall, her nose touching mine. Her eyes dark and cloudy.

“Scared little puppet? Huh? Yeah? Yes!” Her voice, getting higher and higher, and she was getting more insane. “You humans don’t understand anything. Fucking pathetic!” She got even closer. She was a living nightmare. “R-Riza...” With a shaking hand, I reached up and cupped her cheek, only for her to grab my wrist and pull me up and drag me to her desk where she grabbed a knife.

“Riza, no. Let go of it!” She held out my arm and looked at me with blinded eyes and started carving the letter ‘R’ into my skin. Screaming out in pain, pushing her away. Holding my wrist, covering it up in the paper I could find. Riza turned back around and looked at me. Seeing the tears spilling down my cheeks, the blood moving down my arm. She dropped the knife. Her own hands starting to shake. “Y-Y/N, o-oh my god.”

She reached out for me, only for me to move away. Her eyes filling with panic. “I-I don’t know what came over me. Y/N, please let me help.” I shook my head and got up. “No. I’m not letting you help me. I loved you Riza, but this, this is not the Riza I loved.” Her breath shaky. “Wait, no. Please. I can make it up to you. I can love you just as good as he can!” I shook my head. “Riza no. You can see yourself. This is never gonna work.” She shook her head and walked up to me and cubbed my cheeks.

“I can make it work. I can make you love me.”

[quirkdotcom]

DUALITY || HERO AU! DABI X READER

PART TWO

Part one here

Endeavor watched for a moment, staying silent as he thought. 

"You must be the hero from last night then," he responded, sounding unamused. 

"Well I..I wouldn't call myself a hero…" you fell short, letting the fire die. 

He stood up, walking around the desk and to you, getting uncomfortably close, "If I were you, I would start calling yourself a hero, and obtain a license, that way you do not drag the name of my son down with you," 

You didn't respond, your cheeks flushed, it was clear that he had meant it as some sort of threat.

"Father, please, you don't have to scare away anyone who walks in here," 

There he was. The blue flamed hero walked in the room, giving a sideways smile before turning his eyes to you. 

The brightness of the blue catching you off guard once more. They were captivating and beautiful, but then again, so was he. Despite the scars that covered a good chunk of his person, he still had this air to him that made you find him attractive, his cool personality just seeping off in waves. 

"While everyone calls you Riptide, I think I'd like to know your name, afterall, hm soulmate?" 

You flushed, feeling a little warm but not from the use of any fire, "It's (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)," 

"Well, (Y/n), it's a pleasure to meet you when we aren't fighting off villains," 

"What about you, what should I call you?" 

"Most people call me Dabi," 

You smiled warmly, holding out the drink to him, "Well Dabi, I hope you like tea!" 

He took it gingerly, taking a moment before trying it, and then smiling back, "Not normally but, whatever you ordered, this is great," 

"It's one of my favorites actually," You paused for a moment, realizing that Endeavour was still in the room, glaring at you, "Hey...do you maybe want to talk and walk?" 

Dabi agreed quickly, waving a hand to his father and leading you back out of the agency.

On your walk, the two of you shared stories about yourselves. You mostly spoke about the time you spent on your own personal patrols. 

"And then, the woman sat there, she looked kind of sad that I had captured her, so I almost let her go because really she didn't do anything too bad, but that's when the heroes showed up...so I had to leave her there for them." 

Dabi thought for a moment, a question lingering in the front of his mind. He had originally thought about it the night before when you had fled the scene, "Hey, (y/n)?" 

"Hm?" You turned to look up at him, still reeling over how handsome he was.

"Why don't you work at an agency? Or have a hero license?" 

You hummed lightly, tossing your now empty cup into the nearest bin, "Ah...well, I never really went to any fancy school for training, and I grew up taking care of my family so even if I did, I wouldn't have enough time...and sometimes, I'll see the news and I wonder if it's worth it?" 

You stopped, now trying to find the right words to explain how you felt about the situation, "The press seems to always be in the heroes' faces, not to mention, the lower the rank of a hero, the less recognition they even get for their work. Everyone is so focused on the top. By being some sort of...I dunno vigilante, people know my name, and they know what I've done." 

You looked up, realizing that what you said had probably made little sense or seemed like a big complaint, "I-I mean ! Not that big heros like you or your father don't deserve it! I just..its all complicated and-"

Before you could even try to finish your thought, you were caught off guard by Dabi beginning to laugh. 

"Hey don't stress yourself out, my father probably does get too much recognition, and the press can definitely be bothersome…" He shook his head, looking back to you, "But, I think that's pretty noble of you still. You aren't even getting paid for the stuff you do. And some reporters even call you a menace, but looking at you, I think you're too cute to be a menace,"

You laugh lightly at his comment, your face warming up, "Well thank you, I try," 

"You know...I never thought I'd meet my soulmate," Dabi mused, finishing his drink and tossing the cup into another bin, "I always thought I'd be too busy," 

"Must have a lot on your plate, your dad is the number one right?" 

He nodded, bright blue eyes darkening momentarily, "Yeah something along those lines…" Dabi paused for a moment, "What do you say we make this a date? Do something other than just walk around?"

"I think that's a great idea! Do you have anything in mind?" 

He walks a little bit ahead, turning to face you fully, holding a hand out to you, "Trust me on this," 

With those four words, you and Dabi spent the whole day together. He showed you his favorite restaurant while you took him to a park you used to play at,  and you sat on the swings for a while. 

At one point, Dabi noticed a little girl, maybe about 6 years old, selling flowers she had collected for about a quarter each. 

He walked over to her and kneeled down, digging around in his pockets for a moment before retrieving enough quarters to buy four from her, earning the girl two dollars, she turned and excitedly ran over to her mom.  The way he handled it was so cute, and momentarily, you thought about if you two ever would have kids, adopt them or even just babysit for a friend. 

Sabi turned back, four wildflowers in hand as he walked back to you, holding them out, "Join me for dinner?" 

You smiled warmly, agreeing to the idea, "I'd love to! If we stop by a store and grab some groceries, I can cook up a good meal!" You hopped off the swing, taking his hand excitedly and then the flowers. 

After a quick stop to the store, and some time spent making the meal, the dinner was ready.  

The two of you sat at a table in Dabi's house, exchanging jokes, stories, flirty comments and overall a good time.  

You weren't sure exactly when it happened, but soon enough the two of you stood in the kitchen, soft music in the background coming from a speaker. 

"Dance with me (Y/n)," Dabi looked to you, holding his hand out to you. 

You take it gingerly, and he pulls you closer. Regardless of the music playing some top hit that definitely isn't a slower rythmed song, he loops his arms around your waist, and yours circle around his neck. 

You've never really danced with someone like this, but you feel comfortable. You start to think that it's the pure duality of yourself having a soulmate whose quirk so oddly matches yours, and how your personalities go together hand in hand. 

When you fall asleep after returning home, it's the first night of many that your dreams aren't filled with fire. Instead, you finally dream of him. Of Dabi. 

[kelasparmak]

hello! might i ask for podcast recs? literally anything ! i trust your taste xxxx

Awwww, you! I’ve kept the descriptions short because there’s a LOT, but I’ve given you genre/vibe because I’m not sure which aspect of my taste you like. Also it’s still very long so sticking it under a cut.

Campaign Podcast: Always my number one rec. Improv comedians play a TTRPG and chaos predictably ensues. There’s two campaigns, Star Wars and Skyjacks, the first one is complete and the second one is ongoing – they have slightly different vibes (think TAZ Balance vs Amnesty, I guess). VERY funny and will occasionally punch you in the heart.

Wooden Overcoats: Very funny, frequently heartwarming, excellent acting. Easy to get through (there’s 3 seasons with ~8 episodes each) and even though the characters are usually very stressed and in ridiculous situations, it feels pretty low stakes to listen to so it’s a fun one for if you’re stressed.

Caravan: Western/fantasy which I don’t think is actually a comedy but is still frequently very funny. Great acting, very fun and relatable protagonist who just keeps on choosing compassion over violence. Thoughtful coverage of mental illness, being brown and queer, and sexy vampires. 18+ but not super smutty and has content warnings.

The Strange Case of Starship Iris: Sci-fi drama about revolution and found family. The plot is pretty serious and involves galaxy-level stakes, but/and the series is very much driven by very well-written and realistic human connection right from the start – it’s very good at making you-the-listener genuinely invested in what happens. Loads of queer characters and the crew has two South Asian women, an East Asian woman, a trans Jewish man, and a nonbinary character. I probably don’t need to tell you this, but the world of popular audio fiction is Pretty White, so it’s nice to see podcasts where that’s not the case esp in genre fiction.

Victoriocity: Drama/comedy set in an alternate universe London. Feels very Discworld – really inventive worldbuilding, fun twisty plot, political intrigue, hilarious deadpan narrator, great acting.

In Strange Woods: Musical about grief, trauma, and how small and powerless humans are compared to nature. Really, really good. You’ll cry. It’s  a quick listen – 5 episodes, all less than an hour long.

Oblivity: Sci-fi drama comedy, very funny, very found family. You’ll be surprised how much you care about the characters given how stupid it is.

Alice Isn’t Dead: You’ve probably been recommended this already but it bears repeating. Really well-written, acted and produced. This one’s not got a lot of humour in which isn’t usually my preference, but it’s really good. It’s got a lot of the Something’s Not Right energy of Nightvale, but goes full creepy with it. Really immersive but maybe not one you’d binge or listen to right before bed...

Greater Boston: Drama more than comedy but also deeply funny. Lots of apparently separate stories converging, clever writing (really good at giving a massive cast of characters distinct personalities), really emotionally impactful coverage of topics like grief, racial inequality, addiction, classism and more, doesn’t try to give easy answers but is also very focused on community power and optimism. Also there are cheese robots.

We Fix Space Junk: Sci-fi drama comedy, very anticapitalist, big found family feelings. Lots of fun, job-of-the-week episodic format makes it a relatively low-focus thing, even when the stakes are high it feels very safe to listen to, and the characters are v likeable (even the ones you really wouldn’t have expected).

Girl In Space: Sci-fi drama, found family and revolution, you may be noticing a pattern. It’s a lot of fun, the protagonist is super likeable and draws you in from the start. For Vorkosigan Saga fans, if you liked Shards of Honour, you’ll like this. Deals with fraught parental relationships, grief, loneliness, anti-imperialism, and more, but even though the stakes are high I didn’t find it stressful to listen to.

Death By Dying: Dark surreal drama. I don’t know if I’d call it a comedy per se but it’s very funny. Big Nightvale vibes. Deals with grief and mental illness pretty prominently, but in a very reassuring way.

The Prickwillow Papers: Fantasy drama. Lots of fun and incredible voice acting. Deals with the difficulty of letting yourself be helped, coping with guilt, and not being ‘special’. Features the most cantankerous fae you’ve ever encountered. I love her.

Middle:Below: It has GHOSTS it has CATS it has a PICARDIGAN. What more do you need to know? It’s a lot of fun to listen to, often funny and sometimes genuinely spooky (which hits all the harder for how chilled out and cosy it feels most of the time).

Mabel: Dark fantasy drama. Really poetic, well-acted, really good at suspense. Very cool modern take on changeling/fae mythology. Not much humour and very intense, which is not my thing at all, and I’ll be honest I didn’t find it an easy listen, so it took me a long time to get through it. But it’s really good and it’s definitely worth checking out, I did enjoy it, it’s just not necessarily one you’d want to de-stress to at the end of the day.

The Amelia Project: Drama/comedy about an agency that helps people fake their deaths. Great voice acting, very fun, and I really enjoy how international it is. Uses the episodic ‘client of the week’ format in combination with big picture plot in a really engaging way. Feels a bit Leverage-y especially because of how clever/absurd the plans are.

Harlem Queen: Drama set in the Harlem Renaissance. Another serious one, and deals explicitly with heavy issues including racism and violence, without much reprieve in the form of soft moments or humour. But it’s very well-made and worth a listen, and there’s not a lot of it.  

The Orphans: Sci-fi drama. Expansive space opera type show with mindblowing amounts of worldbuilding. Revolution, ethics of cloning, anticapitalist, etc. Not a comedy but has some really funny bits. You’ll need to pay attention especially because it starts off with a pretty big cast of characters who don’t refer to each other by name super often and many of them have similar voices. But don’t worry too much about that – you’ll still know what’s going on even if you can’t tell them apart for the first few episodes, and you’ll be able to tell at least some of them apart.

Midst: I’m only a few episodes in but I’m enjoying it so far! Cool worldbuilding, really interesting collaborative narration/storytelling, not a comedy per se but often funny.

I Am In Eskew: Surreal horror, mostly psychological. It’s another Nightvale-y one but again without really any of the humour. It’s really good, but I’ll be honest, I’ve only listened to about 10 episodes so far, even though I started it ages ago.

 ….and probably lots more that I’m forgetting? I listen to less stuff at the moment because I’m working pretty much all the time, so anything I need to really focus on or that’s emotionally challenging is p much out of the question.

[unabashegirl]

Enticing (1)

Author’s Note: This is the first chapter of the NEW SERIES based on the imagine of CEO! I have rewritten this first chapter a thousand times by now. I just wanted it to be perfect and for everyone to get a glimpse of the kind of man that David is in this series. 

I also didn’t want to title it just CEO because it’s so cliche. I wanted it to be alluring for all of you!  I hope you all enjoy the first chapter. 

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO GET TAGGED!

masterlist 

--- 

Powerful is the first word that comes to mind when asked about him. It is later followed by meticulous, driven, calculating, or even impatient.  At twenty-six, he has acquired everything that he has ever wished for and even more.  

“Mr. Dobrik” he is greeted as he steps out of his car. He keeps his eyes glued to his phone, he is still trying to respond to an obnoxious email. He picks up the pace and types vigorously before entering the building. Someone was already at the door holding it open for him. 

“Thank you, Patrick” David acknowledges him after he finally puts his phone away and walks through the doors. The sound of the heel of his shoes clicking echoes through the lobby alerting everyone of his arrival. He runs a tight ship on his company, but it was for their best interest. 

“Good morning, Mr. Dobrik,” Andrea one of the receptionist says, she flashes him a big smile. 

“Andrea” he nods her way as he walks up to the elevators. She smiles to herself and sits back down. She has a huge crush on him but has never gotten anything out of him. He was always on his phone or in a rush. She didn’t blame him after all he was an important man with a tight schedule.  

David walks into his top floor and without a word walks into his office. A fresh glass of water with ice already rests on his desk. The recognizable pile of contracts and documents still lay on the right side of his desk, desperately calling out for his attention. 

“Mr. Dobrik” Andrew Rider was David’s personal assistant for almost four years. He is David’s most trusted worker. Andrew even had a copy of David’s penthouse keys. He sometimes dropped off to deliver his tailored suits and documents. 

“Good morning” He momentarily looks up from his screen and nods his direction. “Before anything Andrew please ask Daniel to bring me a coffee and something to eat from that coffee place I like” 

“Yes sir” Andrew quickly types Daniel a quick text before turning his attention to the list of appointments and meetings that David had scheduled. “Should we start now?” David nods as he continues looking through the emails in his inbox. Andrew always debriefs David about all the stats about the company before letting him know about his meetings and messages. As soon as Andrew finishes reading all the reports of every single branch he looks up at David and waits for a reaction. Andrew holds his IPad close to his body just in case things go south and he has to bolt out of the room just like he’s done many times before. 

“Thanks, fine. Proceed” This time it wasn’t the case. He was content with how things were going. 

“Your mother called yesterday and so did Ms. McCoy” David purses his lips at the mention of the woman that has been desperately trying to become his wife.  She is the daughter of one of his business partners. They had both invested in various companies together. Mr. McCoy respects David as a businessman and considers him an exceptional man. 

“What did my mother say?” He asks already knowing the reason behind her call. 

“She asked when you were planning on visiting with Henry” Last time David had gone to see his family things had ended badly. His father and he had gotten into a dispute about his younger sister's fiance. David’s father didn’t approve of him and when asked David told his honest opinion about the young man. She met him in college and they had just recently graduated. He didn’t have his life fully figured out like his father wanted him to have before asking for his daughter ‘s hand, but it didn’t matter. David could see how they loved one another. He didn’t see the problem after all they had just graduated and were still trying to figure out the ropes of adulthood. 

“Please let her know I’ll be visiting this weekend and I’ll bring him too. As of Ms. McCoy let her know if she calls back that I’ll reach out to her later during the week” Andrew rolls his eyes at the mention of his girlfriend. She is incredibly rude and arrogant. Everyone in the office hated her. They despised when she surprisingly runs by the office just to see the boss. David also hates it because it messes up his whole schedule. 

“Also the agency found a new nanny and sent her profile. Would you like me to read it to you?” David closes his laptop and leans back. This is at the top of his priorities for the day which meant it deserved his full attention. “Her name is Y/N Y/L/N, she is twenty-four and has been working for the agency for three years. Her previous family says she is sweet, attentive, caring and always puts the kids first. The family let her go since they were relocating to Los Angeles” 

“Did they not send any more profiles? Someone older perhaps?” He had nothing against the girl, but he felt more comfortable with someone older. 

“There aren’t more available and they send their apology” He can't leave Henry without a nanny much longer. He needs someone to be around him twenty-four seven especially when he is working. 

“Fine. Let her know that I’ll be waiting for her first thing tomorrow at the apartment” Andrew nods back before leaving the office to go fetch David’s coffee.  He felt instant relief after finding him a nanny. It wasn’t because David was incapable of taking care of his own son because he has done so the last week since their nanny quit. His tight schedule prevents him from staying home and tend all his needs. 

David’s life revolved around Henry. He rathers spends a weekend at home with him than taking a jet off to an exotic location. Henry has him wrapped around his little finger since he was born only three months ago. They only have one another and David has come to terms with it. 

Henry’s biological mother had exchanged him for money. David had met Ashley at a bar after one of his business deals had gone wrong. He had gone to the bar to release some stress and steam from the long week. After a few Scotch on the rocks, he noticed the presence of the pretty girl beside him. They talked for a few hours about superficial things like their favorite countries and anecdotes from college. A few minutes later, David found himself calling for Daniel to pick both of them up and drive them home. 

The whole night was a big blur for him. The only thing he remembers is the morning after and the hammering headache that came along with it. Ashley vanished as soon as the sun rose over Manhattan. David woke up to an empty room without any trace of her beside the messy bedsheets.

He didn’t hear from her until a few weeks later when an article of him was written by Forbes magazine. He was listed as one of the youngest billionaires. She found the magazine on a stand while making her way to work and called the company. After trying to reach him for a few days Andrew was finally alerted. 

Ashley met up with him that same afternoon and told him that she was pregnant and that she was going to terminate the pregnancy. David had never considered having kids up until that point. He thought they were all very cute, but never imagined himself with one. He didn’t say anything. He just told her that it was her body and her decision. David couldn’t sleep that night. He kept rolling around and he felt like something was terribly wrong. Something had woken up inside of him and even though he had decided to no intervene with her decision, he still did. 

He begged her to get an abortion and offered to take full responsibility when he was born. That still wasn’t enough with Ashley. She wanted more and it wasn’t until a few days later when David finally figured it all out. She wanted money for the baby. Ashley wanted him to pay her for the baby that she was carrying and once again after much thinking, he did. He paid Ashley and an incredible amount of money for him. David didn’t care how much money it was. Money was dispensable and he could always make more. He couldn’t make another Henry. He was one of a kind. At the end of the day, David was going to be able to raise Henry and watch him grow up. 

The day that Henry was born was the last time he heard or saw Ashley. Within hours she had signed off all of her parental rights and had given David full custody. She had also cashed in all the money. Since then they have been together. Everything absolutely everything came after Henry now. All the long hours in the office and the traveling was all for him. David wanted to give him the world. 

Andrew sets his coffee down before leaving him on his own. He sits back and starts working until he is interrupted by the head of international relations. The company has been having trouble with the branch in Canada and David still couldn’t under why. They were always above the budge and below the income requirement. He knows he has to drop by soon, but he first wants to gather all the correct information before flying in and firing a few people. 

“The situation with Canada can’t continue like this. If it does I am going to forced to fire him” Jacob Wilson is the appointed CEO of the Canadian branch in Ontario.  David rarely speaks to him because he has trusted him since the beginning, but things have been slightly off lately. 

“I think it’s for our best interest to find out what’s going on over there. It’s a sinking boat and with the expansion happening soon we can’t risk ourselves for the other investors to pull out” Alexander points out before taking a sip out of his coffee. 

Before David can say anything else the door burst open and in walks Valentina McCoy with all her might. If there is one thing that David can’t tolerate is being interrupted in one of his meetings especially so abruptly. 

“Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” Her voice is loud and stern, but it doesn’t faze him. David turns to look at Alexander, whose eyes look like they are about to pop out of his body. He can defiantly sense the awkwardness of the entire situation. 

“I am sorry Alexander. I’ll keep me posted if anything else emerges” They both rise to their feet and shake each other’s hands before Alexander slips out of his office before the mayhem commences.  

“Answer me!” She stumps her foot on the ground. Her body is leaned forward and her yaw is clenched. David remains silent only making her angrier. He unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt, trying his best to put his thoughts together. “David! Why the fuck have you answered me?” She hisses. 

“Who do you think you are?” His back is facing her as he looks at the skyline. 

“Why can’t you fucking look at me?!” Her voice is louder and by now everyone on the top floor knows that she has arrived. David quickly turns around and chuckles. 

“I asked you a question. Who the fuck do you think you are?!” She jumps a bit at his loud, demanding voice. He was sick and tired of her childish actions. “You can’t just barge in here like you own the fucking place and yell at me in front of my employees” 

“I sure can! especially when you aren’t answering my texts” Her voice is lower and she has stepped back. She felt intimidated by his current state. David’s eyebrows are knitted and his hands are on his wooden desk. 

“You are fucking nobody. You are just a daddy’s girl, who thinks that she can buy her way out of everything. You think your fucking beauty and your bank account grants you the right to do whatever the fuck you want, but that’s not how things work. You have no fucking right to burst through that door without knocking or without letting me know. This isn’t your fucking house where people come in and out whenever they please. This is my goddam company, Valentina”  His weight is all distributed on his hands as he leans forward and demands respects. She is speechless and on the verge of tears. 

He is so fucking done with her. He enjoyed her company until it lasted. This was the last straw. No one messed around with him, especially in his workplace. 

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO GET TAGGED!

[topherfoxtrot]

Resilience

Here's the third part of my thunderbolts au. Emil Blonsky scaped his long imprisonment but he didn't went after the Hulk. Where did he go? The answer is bellow the cut. There's an original character here too. I'm not kin of OCs but I didn't find any character who would fit the role I wanted. Said oc will only be a part of this episode so consider it a special guest appearance. I've realized I've been writing more and more with each installment. Sorry about that, I'm getting more comfortable with the whole precess and I like to challenge myself. Continuing the trend, this chapter has a widely different vibe from the previous ones. As usual if you enjoyed please like, share or comment something.

Episode one

Episode two

Emil woke up from a nightmare. It was a fight. From as long as he could remember all Emil did was fight. Now even when he's not awake he's still fighting. He sat on the bed breathing heavily. Wait, where am I? He thought.

"You must be confused." A female voice was heard nearby.

Emil looked around looking for it. The cabin was small. The bedroom, the living room and the kitchen were all occupying the same space. There were two doors, one of them was probably for the bathroom. The woman was sitting at the kitchen table. She dressed a knitted sweater and rabbit slippers.

"My name is Charlie Reznik." She pointed at the soup, "Are you hungry?"

"Where am I?"

"Alaska. Three hours driving from Barrow."

Emil sat on the bed. He was naked. He covered himself with the blankets not for modesty but because they were warm.

"You weren't using any clothes when I found you and you don't seem like the kind of person who would wear my clothes. I hope the blankets kept you warm."

"Found me?"

"Yeah. You were screaming a lot. And throwing trees around." Charlie chuckled, "Eventually you got tired and just fell asleep right where you were. I was thinking about calling the police or something but when you started to shrink I decided to bring you here."

Suddenly Emil looked at himself realizing he did indeed shrink. He didn't look like that anymore. Still, the bones in his hands and abdomen were more prominent than they should be. He took his hands to his back to feel his spine was also prominent. That made him think of the super soldier serum, of the Hulk and of the prison he just scaped.

"I need to contact someone." Emil got up only to fall on the ground.

"Are you okay?" Charlie approached him with caution.

"I think I'll have the soap first actually." Emil muttered realizing how weak his body was.

***

The soup made with vegetables reminded Emil of his childhood in Russia. He had almost no recollection of those few years before he moved to England. He mostly remembered the cold and his mother's soap.

"I need to ask you but.. it's gonna sound weird." Emil was at the table tangled with the blankets, "What year is this?"

Charlie looked him in the eyes to decide if he was being serious or not. Emil didn't flinch so nor did Charlie, "It's 2023."

Emil pressed his lips and started to breath heavily. He was sleeping this whole time. They kept him asleep without ever giving him a chance to explain himself. No consent and no agency.

"No one has heard anything about you since 2008 Mr Blonsky and now you show up in the middle of the forest not knowing the year?" Charlie seemed genuinely curious.

"You know me?"

"I didn't recognize you at first. There isn't much footage from big you. But the sketch from witnesses matched pretty well. They call you the Abomination."

"Abomination?" Emil suddenly smashed the wooden table with enough strength to crack it. Charlie quickly moved her left hard to somewhere under the table. They locked eyes. For the first time Charlie didn't seem warm and inviting but rather fierce and absolutely ready to react. Emil closed his eyes a bit before recomposing himself.

"I'm sorry."

"I also think the name is impolite." Charlie brought her hand back, "But no one knew anything about you except you were military assigned to find Bruce Banner. I had to make some phone calls and turns out my guess was right! You are indeed in the accords database. Quite high level threat.

"What accords?"

"Alright." Charlie put her hair behind her ears, "I need you to be honest with me Mr Blonsky. What's the last thing you remember?"

So he said. He fought the hulk on Harlem, fell unconscious and woke up in Alaska. Charlie brought a computer from a big bag under the bed and put it on the table in a way that both of them could see it.

"The world changed a lot since 2008 Mr Blonsky. Put on your seatbelts."

Charlie then gave him a contemporary history class the best way she could while showing videos and pictures whenever she felt necessary. She talked about the avengers assembling in 2012 to stop an alien invasion caused by a norse god. She talked about the genocidal robot destroying a whole country in 2015. She talked about Wanda Maximoff killing those people back in 2016. She talked about the Sokovia accords and how that made the avengers disassemble. She talked about Wakanda opening up to the rest of the world. She talked about the avengers coming together again to fight yet another alien invasion. She talked about the snap and the chaotic years that followed. She talked about the blip and the even more chaotic year that followed it. Emil listened to everything in silence. It was a lot but he was smart.

"They put me to sleep for fifteen years." He whispered.

"I'm so sorry about that. It's unfair."

Emil had finished his soup but he stayed exactly where he was. Thinking about everything.

"I became strong. I became as strong as I could and still... they defeated me with bed time."

"You're being unfair."

"How come?"

"I don't think strength is really what you think it is."

"How would you know?"

Emil looked at Charlie's small stature with unconscious disdain. She picked on that and wore her fierce eyes again.

"With all due the respect Mr Blonsky..." It was possibly to hear the rage under her words, "You have no idea how strong I am. Thanos snapped my whole family! I wasn't even at home when it happened. Do you have any idea how much strength I needed to gather to simply get up every morning? I may not have big muscles like you -in fact no one does Mr Blonsky - but guess what? You could not have went through what I did. I'm sure of it!"

Emil got up aggressively and so did Charlie.

"You're really pulling the trauma card?"

"Wanna compete?"

"I think I do." He showed his teeth.

Charlie walked across the cabin stepping heavely. She sat on the bed. "Enlighten me."

The challenge got Emil off guard. He hesitated.

"I don't need to tell you anything."

"Of course you don't. If you tell me how traumatized you are, I'll tell you how traumatized I am. Then you will have to admit that none of it gives you permission to do the shitty things you did!"

The cabin merged in silence. Outside there was nothing but the cold wind running through the trees.

"I know your type." Charlie continued, a little calmer now, "Though childhood huh? No perspective of a future so you joined the military. Felt good to explode some heads didn't it? It felt powerful."

Emil remained in silence. He still looked mad, but remained in silence. Charlie went to the kitchen and grabbed a photograph from one of the drawers. She gave it to Emil.

"You're military." Emil studied the photo of Charlie and other soldiers smiling inside a tent.

"Used to be. Came back in 2019. The welcoming party wasn't exactly a party as you can imagine. My house was empty. As I said both my parents and my little brother got snapped. That's when I found this cabin."

"It's not yours?"

"Nah. I don't know who it belongs to actually. It was a cold night and I was just driving aimless. I don't know why exactly. Everything just seemed so meaningless back then. I felt weak."

Emil put the photograph on the table and they both locked eyes again. Not with anger this time though.

"It's cold but it's isolated enough. I could cry and scream as much as I wanted without anyone knowing. And did I need to scream! Scream at Thanos, scream at my parents, scream at myself. A part of me wish it could've been me, y'know? Trust me I would give my life for theirs in the blink of an eye! Yet, here I was."

Charlie sat at the table again. The temperature of the cabin went from 20°C to 40°C and then to 20°C again. Emil felt sorry about the table but most importantly he felt sorry for making Charlie mad.

"There's no much to say." He started, "Though childhood. No perspective. Joined the military. After everything I've seen, being strong is honestly the only option. It's survival."

"I get it. I really do. But strength is not on your muscles."

"Don't come with this heartfelt bullshit."

"It's not." Charlie chuckled, "Trust me I won't fall for that bullshit either. It's something else."

She got up and grabbed an old book from the shelf near the bed.

"All those things were already here when I got here for the first time. There was water, gas, energy, the bed, the blankets. It's like whoever lived here had just left. I've known this place for couple more than three years now. No one is ever here except me, yet the feeling never goes away."

The old book was covered with leather.

"Self help book?" Emil asked.

"In a way." Charlie tilted her head, "This book is about the universe. But not like a scientific encyclopedia. This book is about the whole universe, about the energy that comes from different parts of the multiverse and how to harvest and manipulate them. Essencially, magic!"

"Alright it's a self help book. Magic is not real."

"I was honestly hoping you would say that." Charlie smiled, "Check this out!"

Charlie put her hands in front of her and took a deep breath in order to focus. She moved her hands vertically and a orange string appeared from thin air. Charlie's hands drew a circle in the air and the string curved itself in a circumference. Charlie closed her hands as if grabbing something and with another gesture polygonal forms started to draw themselves in the magic circle. Charlie snapped her fingers with both hands and the whole thing started to spin like a magical ferris wheel.

"You discovered magic!" Emil whispered.

"Of course I didn't! People have been studying that for a long time. I just happened to find a weird book." The magical strings disappeared as Charlie stopped focusing so much on them, "You know when you are depressed so you set a simple goal just to give yourself a little achievement?"

"No, actually. But that's seems like solid advice."

"It is!" Charlie chuckled, "Anyways I read this whole book in like two days and I didn't understand shit. But I was super interested and started to dig the internet and beyond for anything related to all the weird concepts I found. I read the book more two of three times after that. Each time I learned something different and gained a new perspective over myself and the universe around me."

"So it is a self help book!" Emil laughed.

"As I said, it is but in a weird way. I mean look around. There's aliens and gods and the multiverse. When you think of all of it don't your problems seem way smaller?"

"I'm not sure."

"Here's how it's gonna be. I go to Barrow buy you some clothes and you think about everything I just said." She grabbed a jacket and wore boots, "But you have to pay me back alright? Otherwise I'm gonna hunt you and I'll find you. Remember: I know magic!"

"Okay, that's fair!"

Charlie grabbed a ring with slot for two fingers in a kitchen drawer. "That was one of the things I found here. Magic becomes weirdly intuitive once you learn some basics."

She made that focused face again and started to draw circles in the air with her right hand. The air in the middle of the cabin heated up and started to sparkle. An orange circle (much like the one she conjured with the hand gestures) appeared but in the middle of it was possible to see an alley.

"What is this?" Emil was shocked.

"Fast travel!" Charlie winked before passing through. The portal was gone as soon as she was gone and Emil found himself alone in the cabin.

***

There was a small mirror in the bathroom. Alone, he could check his own body for the first time. His face looked pretty much the same, he hadn't aged one day in the past fifteen years. Besides his hands and shoulders and spine, his elbows were also abnormally prominent. Was he the Abomination after all?

The power felt good, he remembered. Felt god-like. But the cost was too high. Emil became too dangerous and lost control over his own life for more than a decade. He wanted to blame Ross and Banner but would it be even fair? Emil was the one who accepted to take the serum in the first place. He actually pointed a gun at that scientist. He begged to become as strong as the Hulk is.

Emil left the house still covered in blankets. The cold snow made his feet burn but no enough to bother him. He was strong after all. Or maybe he enjoyed the pain in a sick way of reinforcing his own superiority belief. An orange portal opened nearby after a while.

"Aren't you feeling cold?" Charlie asked coming with a bag of clothes.

"A little."

"Come. See if any of those fit you. They're from the local thrift shop by the way."

"I've wore worse."

Charlie bought a simple jeans, two shirts, a flannel and boots. Really simple stuff just to protect Emil from the cold. It fit well.

"Thank you." He said.

"You're in debt, Mr Blonsky. Don't you forget that."

"You know magic." He chuckled, "I can't allow myself to have you as an enemy Ms Reznik."

They both laughed. Charlie sat at the table and started to type something on the computer.

"The feds are all over town." Charlie commented, "They're looking for you."

"Listen," he said, "I need to ask you a favor but first can I go for a walk?

***

Emil took a deep breath before jumping as high as he could. He could not see above the tall trees so he jumped again but grabbed one of the trees this time. Even with his bare hards, the wood bowed to his will. He kept climbing until he got to the highest part of the tree. From up there he could see the whole forest, including the trees he threw around the day before.

He jumped to the ground again. The snow splattered around him. His hands and knees started to bleed but he didn't care because he would break soon enough. He felt powerful and smiled without realizing it. Not a happy smile, bur rather a challenging one. Hey jumped a little before running in the direction of the destruction he caused. He started slow (more like jogging actually) but quickly escalated to marathon running and super human running. The cold wind cut his face like knifes but he didn't care. He just kept going faster.

When he finally reached the glade he jumped again. Even higher this time. When he landed his feet felt bigger. Breathing heavily he looked at his own hands and realized they were indeed getting bigger and muscled. Without wasting any breath he took off all his clothes and started running again. The cold started to bother him less and less as his body grew in size.

He started to scream so he could liberate his anger. He jumped high and landed with his fists causing the ground to crack bellow him. Emil grabbed a fallen tree and threw it to the air. He picked big boulders and threw them around at will. In the middle of the chaos he also started laughing. He was strong. He could destroy anything he wanted. He was as strong as he could be.

When Emil finally felt satisfied with his own display of power, he grabbed the trees and rearranged them back into the ground as best as he could. He picked the boulders and put them back where they were. So when the glade resembled the glade it once was, Emil sat on the ground next to his new clothes.

He started to think about everything Charlie said. Yes, he was big and could destroy everything is his way. But there were gods and aliens and robots and uncontable planets and entities across the universe. He was big and strong but he was also small and weak.

His strength though wasn't on his muscles but on his ability to survive. He survived his childhood, he survived the military and he survived the Hulk. Just like Charlie survived the snap and the aftermath. Like Charlie found new meaning in magic so could Emil find new paths to follow.

"I'm big and I'm small. I'm strong and I'm weak. I'm still here." Emil whispered to himself.

His body started to shrink calmly. Once he achieved regular size he wore his clothes and walked towards the cabin. Charlie smiled when he entered.

"Had fun?" She heard the screams obviously.

"Yeah actually. Thanks for everything."

"No problem. Remember, you're still in debt! So what favor do you need?"

"I need a portal but I also need an address. I believe you can find the person I'm looking for in the Sokovia accords database."

"Hm alright. What's the name?"

"Ava Starr."