#anyway. its fun looking back at my old jean design she was cute.

[wellnoe]

found a bunch of old sketchbook stuff while moving

[just-some-random-blogger]

Death By Bagel

NCT Culinary Student!Mark Lee x Fashion Design Student!Reader Summary: Mark makes a cake cause he's realized he can't lose you to some f-boy. Word Count: 3k+ Warnings: Fluff, childhood au, college au, slowish burn, slight cursing, reallllly fluffy, some broksi-dude action, typos sksksksks, etc.

R E Q U E S T my friend: mark lee, slow burn, friends to lovers

A/N: I wrote a fic that already had like 1k+ word then I LOST IT (i think i deleted it) thus this. It took me 10 years to write this msmsmkskskks. PLEASE TUMBLR IS MESSING WITH ME AND MIXED UP THE ORDER OF SOME OF THE DIALOGUE

“As a doctor, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Mark says, not even bothering to look at his patient seated rudely on the floor. Oop, he’s lying down now.

Mark huffs and looks up from the clay block he was molding on his tray, “YOU’RE SO UNPROFESSIONAL!”

Mark’s mother nearly spits out her coffee upon hearing the words of his five-year-old son. Her husband snorts, “He got that from you.”

The woman throws a look at the man and was supposed to give a snarky retort, up until the sound of the doorbell ringing. She grins from ear-to-ear and dashes to get the door.

When she comes back to the living room, she’s accompanies by another woman and a tiny version of her.

“Markie! Say hello to your Auntie!” Mark’s mom calls.

Mark from the carpeted floor looks up and blinks, examining the stranger-woman and its human-ling. Mark turns to his father who was sat on the couch and receives a nod of approval almost. Mark purses his lips and waves at the woman.

The woman waves back and then crouches down to the little girl, “Baby, say hello to Mark.”

Unwilling, she shakes her head.

“Aw come on, baby. Don’t be shy. Mark over there is a really sweet boy. I knew him when he was in his mommy’s tummy, just like Mark’s mom knew you when you were in mine. You’re the same age so you’ll get along just fine.”

With the unnecessary explanation that gave no justification to the scene whatsoever out of the way, the girl was fooled into peeping up, “Hi, Mark.”

“Hello,” Mark says, not particularly interested, as his patient was still in the midst of dying in his office. He turned to his stuffed toy called Mr. Lion and attempted to stand him up once more.

At this point, the girl makes her way to Mark.

“We’ll be back in two hours, honey. Keep an eye on the children,” Mrs. Lee tells his husband who had been occupied with TV the entire time.

“Yeah. I got this,” he smiles to his wife then goes back to watching.

The bumble bee clad figure sat down to Mark in blue and watched him play.

Mark ignored her for a few seconds, needing to assert all efforts on standing that dumb toy up. Once successful, Mark turns to her, “Do you play doctors?”

Mark was then met with the same lack on enthusiasm. She hums, “I like playing baker doctor.”

All at once, Mark gasps, “ME TOO!”

It was unbeknownst to the children it was oddly specific and the chance of this happening was pretty slim.

And in a blink of an eye, excited giggles erupt in the room, as if they had been having so much fun before this scene. It was here and there the two would become best friends to the very end.

... so I guess it means the reckoning is upon us.

“MARK LEE I SWEAR TO THE FU--” “WHAT! WHAT!?” Mark laughs.

"YOU ATE MY BAGEL! AGAIN!" I growl in a loud whisper, throwing the wrapper at him and his flat head before he could think to dodge it while he annoyingly laughs.

"I asked if I could have it though!" he says, fully knowing his sins.

I glared at him and say lowly, "I thought you were referring to my notes, bread for brains."

Mark snorts loud enough for our teacher to wake up from his nap. Once the class notices, we all pretend to be doing something productive and Mark plays it off with a cough.

"Mr. Lee." Mr. Kim says sternly, clicking his tongue, blinking his eyes rapidly.

Mark finishes coughing and turns to our seated professor, "Yes sir."

"Don't go to school if you're sick and going to cause a racket with your coughing."

Mark nods firmly and Mr. Kim closes his eyes again, mumbling, "page 65 is due tomorrow."

The entire class grumbles. Mark beside me scoffs and makes a face, "Yeah, yeah, Doyoung."

I turn to him and elbow his side.

"Whatever," Mark shakes his head, "professor bunny-teeth won't hear me."

Once class ended, we both get our things and head out for lunch. We walk to our canteen, fussing over assignments, deciding we should do it together later in our mutually free period.

I groan and narow your eyes at him as we have an argument over how he hasn't finished the essay for English, "That's not the point."

"Yo Mark!" a voice calls from afar. Mark and I turn, looking for the voice, and I spot the dimpled senior, Jung Jaehyun, in a table with the rest of his squad.

I nudge Mark and point at the pale guy seated by the corner.

Mark throws him a smile and waves. I follow closely behind him as he walks over to the table. "We're going to sit with them?" I say in some sort of gasp.

"Yeah." Mark replies simply, not bothering to turn to me, "they're cool."

I knit my brows at that and nod, "Yeah I know. But I'm not cute today."

Mark stops in his tracks and throws me a confused look, "what?"

"I didn't put any make-up on today, also I'm pretty sure there's a visible stain somewhere on my jacket, I just don't remember where."

Mark scrunches his face up again, even more confused. "What? How do you... forget a stai-- that's not the point. Why do you wanna look cute today?" He scoffs and continues lowly, "hardly as if you ever look cute."

I let out an annoyed groan and punch Mark's shoulder. "Like when you panicked when Seulgi came over and asked for notes."

Mark openes his mouth, "That is so not the same! Jaehyun's a fuck bo-"

"Just shut up already," I snap and shove him forward so he'd continue walking. "Let's not keep him waiting," I add and mumble, "also I know. Dong Sicheng however is very cute."

Mark chuckles, "he's dated every girl on the dance team."

"Okay, maybe not that cute."

"Ya, Mark," Jaehyun grins and greets the said person with a high-five and chest bump. He turns to me and speaks my name with a smile. I smile back politely and wave.

I'm about to sit next to Sicheng, but Mark shoves me and so I end up sitting on the other side of the bench table with Jaehyun. I turn to Jaehyun with a small, non-awkward smile and shoot Mark a glare. He seems unbothered though.

"So, you up for a round later?" Jaehyun asks Mark.

Mark talks over me, "you know it, dude."

Jaehyun flashes his dimple smile all the stupid girls fall for. I'm only half falling for it cause I'm only half stupid. He raises his brows, "you bought the dough, right?"

This makes me knit my brows.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I really did this time," Mark mumbles quickly. "It's my turn anyway."

Jaehyun gives an off look, "that's literally what you said last time bro."

"Yo, no for real. It's in my bag, if you wanna check."

Jaehyun shakes his head when Mark begins to scramble for it, "no, Lee, it's good. We wouldn't want you friend to get dirty."

Is it just me or do you feel slimey all of a sudden?

Jaehyun then gives me a somewhat, somehow sincere smile, "so. I hear you're in fashion design."

I give a soft chuckle, "yeah. That's me."

"I could tell from a mile away. Mark looks horrible next to your getup."

I look down at my sweater and ripped jeans. Mark exclaims in protest, "shut the hell up, Jae."

I give a soft smile at Jaehyun, "don't know where that comes from but thanks I guess."

Jaehyun chuckles, "I'm kidding," he eyes Mark, "I saw your Fashion Design pin on your bag when you sat down."

"Oooohhhh, haha, okay, that makes sense."

"Ya, Jeff," Sicheng calls for Jaehyun, "it's almost time."

Jaehyun turns to his friend and nods. He turns back to me and Mark, "well, it's nice to meet you. Mark won't put a sock in it even if I beg. See you around, fashionista."

He stands and slaps Mark's back, "see ya later, broski."

"Yeah, bruh," Mark replies.

Once it's just Mark and I, I snap at him and blurt out in a whisper yell, "YOU'RE ON BROSKI LEVEL WITH JUNG JAEHYUN?!"

Mark gives me a weird face, "bruh, I think he calls the principal broski, for real."

I smack Mark, making him whine, "you know what I'm talking about, Mark! And what, are you doing drugs?!?"

He shakes his head in confusion, "Wait, what!? Who the hell told you that?"

"Uhhhhh you were talking about dough and showing up later. Sounds like you owe him money for drugs, Mark."

"??? In what universe did we even mention drugs?? Does this," he slaps his face, "look like a face of a drug addict to you?"

"A gullible idiot maybe."

Mark's jaw drops, "oh wow, okay. I'm done with this conversation." He proceeds to stand attempt to walk away. I scoff, "not on my watch bitch."

Like the true idiot that he is, Mark begins to legit run away from me, like a criminal who stole my cookies. It's embarrassing that he, a man much taller than I, could not even outrun me. I suppose I should be grateful, but this just fortifies my thoughts of him being an idiot even more.

But okay... I wasn't actually expecting this... like... Mark and Jaehyun... like... actually baking bread after school with dough Mark premade at home. Also, uh, Jaehyun looks super cute in an apron that I'm having a mental breakdown. And what's new, so does Mark.

"I can't believe you thought I was a drug dealer," Jaehyun says in a soft pout as he rolls out dough on the marble counter of his friggin large kitchen in his friggin large house. Like dang, I knew he was rich, but he's like Rich™ Rich. Rich with a golden diamond encrusted Rolex watch rich that's in a glass display rich-- wtf.

Mark wheezes in his telltale high pitched laugh as he opens a pack of unsweetened chocolate pellets, "she thought dough was some sort of metaphor or something."

"Cute," they say at the same time. Mark turns to Jaehyun in slight surprise and Jaehyun turns to me. I roll my eyes, though I feel my neck burn. I avert my attention to the scene I was sketching on my pad, Jaehyun and Mark baking croissants. I clear my throat, "I'm just making use of the single braincell between us, cause if he doesn't die falling down the stairs, he's gonna pull some idiotic stuff like baking with Jung Jaehyun."

Oddly, it's Mark that reacts to that with a, "hey!"

Jaehyun rubs his chin on his shoulder, "I also can't believe you think so little of me.'

I break a sweat but decide to answer honestly, "... ... ... You have a reputation."

"Of being a fuck boy?"

Mark loudly transfers the chocolates into a metal bowl, making the two of us snap at him. Mark makes a face, "oh gosh, sorry."

Jaehyun sighs, "well. I admit I get around, but that's only because I get dumped every time."

I raise a brow.

Jaehyun purses his lips, "nah, let's not make this weird. The croissants will be flat."

"Dude," Mark turns to him, "that's literally only because you messed up the recipe."

Jaehyun grits his teeth, "no. It's because Kun's a little teacher's pet and sabotaged me so he could get the best grade."

"No, but like Kun is really nice, he helped me with the fold techinique."

Jaehyun scoffs, "He stole me vanilla extract, Mark. Who does that?!"

"No, listen, he's cool, like, for real--"

"No, you listen, he's a little shit and--"

The two begin to bicker like a married couple, and I begin to draw inspiration form the scene to design some random sketches of wedding dresses.

I look back to the two and still can't get over the fact that I learned Jaehyun was a culinary arts major with my best friend, and that I was currently in the Jung's boojie home because I thought Mark was buying drugs from him. Not what I was expecting at all my day to go like, but I'm not mad this is how it went.

"No, no, no, no," Jaehyun says. He turns to me and points, "let's just get an outside opinion. Babe, what's your favorite color?"

"BABE?!" Mark barks.

I take a moment to reply. I blink slowly, "uhh... pink?"

Jaehyun bites his lower lip and claps his flour covered hands, "Right. Pink croissants it is."

Mark shoots him a glare and turns to me, back to Jaehyun, "she has a name."

Jaehyun nods, "yeah, and she wants pink croissants."

Mark makes a face and Jaehyun examines it, chuckling under his breath. "Wah, you two are something, huh."

No one really responds.

We began to always eat lunch with Jaehyun and his friends. It's funny cause I realized Jaehyun, although I still firmly believed he was out to get nasty with every other girl he sees, he was actually just like Mark. A total loser with a love for cooking.

"Hey," Mark says with a snippy tone.

I give him a look and suddenly receive a paper bag to my face. Mark sits on his chair next to me, as per usual. I smell the thing before I realize what it is. It's a freshly baked bagel. I perk up and smile, "Aw, you baked me a bagel?"

Mark raises his upper lip, "no. Jaehyun did."

I knit my brows, "what? Why?"

Mark narrows his brows, "do you, like, like him?"

I give him a look. I take a bite of the bagel, making Mark look at me in disbelief. I answer, "You do know I only hang with him cause you do, right?"

"Then why'd you eat the bagel then?"

"Uh, a number of reasons. 1) it's a bagel, 2) free food, 3) I'm starving, 4) it smells amazingggg."

Mark does a face, "fair. I've been meaning to ask how he does his seasoning for a while now too." He releases a breath, "and anyway, I'm pretty sure he made a bagel cause I told him you liked them. Never talking about you to him anymore though."

I look at him, "why do you talk about me so much to him anyway?"

"Uh because you're amazing," Mark says instinctively.

I feel my heart skip at that. I coo and place my hands on my chest, "wait that's really sweet."

Mark looks at me. His face begin to shift, "too bad it's a lie- haha."

I give him a look and rebut, "jerk."

"Loser."

As quickly as I found out about Jaehyun being Mark's friend, that's about as quickly as I found out he didn't like hanging out with him anymore. It's kind of a shame I never got to go back to his boojie house.

There was this one encounter I had with Jaehyun though... which was a little weird, not gonna lie.

He was waiting for me outside my Tailoring class, smiling and waving when he saw me. I Reluctantly reciprocated and walked over to him.

He releases a breath, "I've been waiting for about 20 minutes for you. I didn't know when your class would end."

I raise my brows, "you could have asked?"

"Well I would need your number for that, and that would have ruined the surprise," he pulled out a brown paper bag, reminiscing the same one Mark chucked at my face.

"I made you two this time," he smiles.

I take a moment to reply, "you don't have to make me bagels, Jaehyun."

He grabs my hand, "yeah, but I want something out of ya," he places the bagels in my hand. He proceeds to lead us off and we begin to walk down the hall.

Truth be told, it's a little scary that his ulterior motive is up in the air. Jaehyun places his hands in his pockets, "I like your dress, by the way."

I smile, "thanks. I made it."

He smiles and nods, "right. That makes sense as to why it suits you well."

I can't help but blush at that, and simultaneously feel conscious when I realize a bunch of girls in my course are looking at me and Jaehyun as we strut down the hall.

"So, what did you want, Jaehyun?"

"Well, I clearly wanted to ask you out."

"..."

"..."

Jaehyun smiles and give a soft laugh, "is it so ground breaking?"

"... Uh..."

He sniggers, "hey, you can say no. I mean I hope you don't but you can." Jaehyun leans in and raises his hands, "I won't like it, but a man should take rejection from a lady well."

I turn to him as he straightens up. I turn to the bagels he made me and bring it back to him. He laughs, "no, I made them for you really. It's not poisoned, in fact it's made with love."

I visibly react to that, which makes Jaehyun wheeze. I can't help but laugh back, "that was hella tacky."

"Worth a shot though," he says. "Good luck with Mark."

I look at him with silence and he chuckles, "ya, you can't fool me."

I'm about to retort but then Jaehyun gets called by one of the frats dudes I identify as Johnny Seo. Jaehyun does a curtsy and clicks his tongue, "see ya later babez."

"You know, I would have said yes if you didn't do stuff like that."

Jaehyun purses his lips, "no you wouldn't."

I shrug, "worth a shot though."

Jaehyun places a hand on his chest, dramatically calling, "Uh, rejection hurts, man."

Yeah, I never went to Jaehyun's boojie house ever again.

Silver lining though was Mark's dorm smelled equally as nice because of all the food he cooks, although it came with a whiff of axe body spray from his roommate, Lucas. It's cool though, he was almost never around for me to smell it in its whole intensity.

"Aite," Mark calls from his side of the dorm. I perk up from the two seater dining table they had and turn to Mark who was covering the cake he was making for his finals.

"Don't, like, peek, okay. I want you to see the cake all at once and give me your honest reaction to it. Please, like, all my lives kinda depend on it."

"How many lives do you have?"

"9, I'm pretty sure."

I stand from my seat, "not you faking your life as a cat, but get it I guess."

Mark raises a hand at me as I walk over, "can you not, I'm high-key panicking right now."

"Over what? You literally made a box of donuts for your midterms and it looked better than Misty Mreme! I'm sure your cake is hot."

"It was in the minifridge for a day. I mean it barely fit cause of all of Lucas' mountain dew."

I groan, "just show me it, Mark Lee!"

Mark whined and dashes over to me, grabbing my shoulders, "okay, but like, don't be mean about it. I swear, I might cry."

I give a sound and fake cough, "it's ugly."

Mark doesn't respond to that particular jab, "I'm serioussss. Please be kind, okay?"

I look at Mark's nervous face and give a soft pout, "Markie, please, not that I think it would be ugly, but I promise you don't have to be nervous about my reaction."

He isn't soothed by that, but he does release a sigh, "okay. So for context, Mr. Moon wanted the cake to be one or two tiers, but I went with one, cause there aint no way I'm going to the other side of the campus to freeze a two tiered cake. Then, the theme was something from your childhood, so, I, uh, thought this was fitting. The exam is 60 percent decoration, 40 percent taste by the way."

Mark gives me a hesitant look, but steps way for me to see it. I then see a heart shaped, medium sized cake in my favorite pastel pink color. By the top there's a little boy on the floor playing with a toy oven set and little girl in a bumble bee dress, holding a stethoscope. At the bottom of the cake, there were jelly letters spelling out, "I like you."

I cup my cheeks at the sight of it and feel my eyes start to well at the sentiment.

Wait... was this really happening?

Mark heaves in and out, "okay, so like when Jaehyun began to like hit on you, that sucked pretty hard because he's known for getting girls and I thought maybe he'd get you too and I got panicky. Anyway, I....... have liked you since we were kids... And... I know you probably don't feel the same way but I have to try, you know.... Yolo."

My feel my tears retract from what I hear. I rub my eyes. I turn to Mark and find his nervous face. "Did you just say yolo in your confession, Mark?"

He looks like he's about to throw up.

I can't help but chuckle and pout, "dude..."

I prolong the moment. Mark gets even more nervous as he repeats softly, "dude..."

"We could have dated in grade school all this time."

It takes a moment to register in his head.

Like, a really long moment.

I sigh, "Mark! I like you too, dummy."

He freezes and blinks. His face begins to burn. He breaks into a soft smile, "nice."

I break into a laugh.

"... Uh... So... Can I like... Kiss you?"

I snort and feel my own cheeks begin to burn, "I think you should refrigerate your cake first."

Mark snaps out of this trance, "oh shoot, you-" I give him a quick peck on the lips.

He is dumbfounded.

I feel butterflies go wild in my stomach.

"I'll wait over there for when you've fixed that."

Mark watches as I walk away, "yooo.... That's not fair though."

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift Part 6 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: It's Saturday, your dickhead boyfriend is out of town, an old friend is in town, and it's time to get drunk!

Warnings: Drinking, mention of drug use, crippling self doubt

W/C: 4.3k

Spotify

Part 1 Part 7

Somehow, the week went exceptionally well. You bugged Frankie each day for the photo he promised you, and each time he grinned and told you that good things came to those who waited. On Wednesday you received a call from the vet telling you the kitten was going to be fine, and she would be put up for adoption when she was old enough. You were initially crushed that the kitten wasn’t going to be yours, but told yourself it was good she was bound to go to a good to a family. You couldn’t give the kind of life a cat deserved.

But most of all, you were almost unreasonably excited for the weekend. You bounced with excitement every time you thought about it - hell, even things with Kurt seemed to be going better. He had planned a hunting trip up north with a few of his friends, and would be gone from Thursday til Monday. He had brought you a bunch of flowers when he ‘broke the news’, not your favourite kind but it was the thought that counted. An entire four days to yourself was more than enough incentive for you to almost force him out the door on Thursday afternoon. With a kiss and a packed lunch and a promise to call, he was gone and the apartment was blessedly empty.

Even better, your best friend Sara was in town.

Fifteen minutes after you watched Kurt’s car pull out of the apartments parking lot, watching the window carefully to make sure he didn’t come back, you called her.

“Can we do something on Saturday? Get drunk, do bad things, anything?” You said by way of greeting.

“Oh hell fucking yes, I’ve been waiting for you to be fun again!” Sara said. You knew that was a not so subtle jab at how much you had changed since Kurt entered your life. You ignored it, like you usually did.

“Saturday sound good to you? I work Friday night and I can’t take it off.” More like you didn’t want to take it off.

“Saturday sounds fantastic. There’s a big fight night happening, and I wanna watch some hot sweaty guys pummel each other.” Sara said. “We can get drunk at the same time. Also I can get some molly if you want.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, not entirely opposed to the idea of spending the night high as shit. Especially if Kurt wasn’t going to be there to yell at you for it.

“Let me know, sooner rather than later so I can sort it out with my guy,” Sara said. “Anyway babe, I’ve gotta jet, I’ve only got five minutes left on my break and I haven’t eaten yet, love ya!”

“Love you too,” you said, meaning it with your whole heart. Out of all the friends you once had, Sara was the only one who had stuck around after you started dating Kurt. At first, you had choked it up to jealousy, convincing yourself all your other friends were envious of your perfect relationship with a perfect guy. Now looking back, you could see what really happened: you had ditched them. Completely and utterly. Kurt had taken up all of your time, convincing you to stay in when you had plans to go out, telling you that the girls you would have trusted your life with only barely put up with you and it was just so obvious to anyone with an outsider's perspective that they didn’t really like you. You were grateful for Sara, more than words could say.

~*~

Saturday came quickly, and before you knew it, Sara was slamming her fist on your door, a bag stuffed with alcohol slung over her shoulder.

“Bitch!” she screamed in greeting when you finally opened the door, still wrapped in your towel from your shower. She was already dressed, in a tight gold 70s style jumpsuit that made her dark brown skin look like it was glowing from the inside out.

“How do you manage to look so good all the time?” You said, stepping aside to let her in.

“Witchcraft,” Sara said, pulling a bottle of prosecco out of her bag and popping it open. “And like, this whole thing took me all day. Why aren’t you ready yet?”

“I’ve been sleeping all day,” you said, plucking the bottle out of Sara’s hand and taking a swig. It was cold and crisp and filled your partly empty stomach. You continued to take small sips as you got ready, occasionally asking Sara for her girly wisdom on what to wear. She picked out your outfit as you applied makeup. It felt almost foreign, using something other than a mascara and brow pencil. The use of colour and shimmers almost felt like breaking some unwritten rule you had created for yourself since dating Kurt.

“What happened to all your fun clothes?” Sara whined, going through your wardrobe. You shrugged, carefully applying bronzer. Honestly, you weren’t sure. Sometimes things just went missing - you didn’t really question it anymore.

“I’m a miracle worker.” Sara declared after almost fifteen minutes of searching. You looked up at her, then at the small bundle of clothing in her arms. She grinned and flung the pile at you. You held up a black pleather skirt that you hadn’t worn in almost a year, and a black body suit that dipped low in the chest.

“Christ,” you muttered.

“What’s wrong with it,” Sara sounded exasperated, like she had been expecting this from you.

“It’s just-” you hesitated. “I’m not going out to get dick, you know? What’s wrong with a pair of jeans?”

Sara rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong with a pair of jeans? I’ll tell you what: everything. You don’t have to have dick as the aim of the night to look cute. You can look cute for yourself. You know just as well as I do that skirt makes your legs and ass look amazing, especially when paired with the shoes I’ve brought for you. Plus, if someone out tonight decides you look cute enough to buy you drinks, then even better! Because free drinks! You don’t have to fuck them as a thank you, you can just turn around and walk away. So, get dressed and stop complaining.”

You considered Sara’s words for a moment. She was right. After you changed, you admired yourself in the mirror. Your ass really did look amazing, and the strappy black heels that Sara had loaned you accentuated your calves magnificently. Sara stood next to you, arm linked through yours, almost a foot taller in her platforms and with her afro teased to the high heavens.

“God, we’re sexy,” she murmured, taking another swig out of the bottle. “You’re absolutely wasted on Kurt.”

You didn’t bother with your usual retorts to that kind of comment. She’s wrong, you’re lucky to have someone to love you like that at all, no one else would want to if they got to know you, you told yourself. It’s what he had told you over and over again, the words searing themselves inside your brain to repeat each time you began to truly doubt with him.

You finished off the prosecco while you waited for the Uber to arrive, enjoying the warm buzz it left you with. Sara whipped out her phone and began to take photos of the two of you. At first, you shied away from the camera, the words Kurt had said once in a throwaway comment, surely not designed to hurt but did anyway, rang in your ears. You don’t look very good in photos, why do you take so many? After that, you would spend hours staring at old photos of yourself, the flaws that were invisible now glaringly obvious.

Tonight though . . . Tonight you felt pretty. You posed for the camera, following Sara’s instructions as best you could. You took photos of each other throughout the entire ride to the venue where the fight night was taking place.

It looked a little shabby on the outside, overgrown hedges snaked up the walls, covering the windows. A smoking area was off to the side, crowded with people. The inside was even more crowded, with bodies pushing up against the horseshoe shaped bar and surrounding the ring. Two women were in the ring, both bloodied and swinging.

“God there is just something so arousing about hot people consensually beating each other up,” Sara said, unable to tear her eyes away from the ring.

“Babe, you’re drooling,” you joked, stepping in line for the bar.

“I can’t help it, I have an overactive salivary gland,” Sara sighed, tearing her eyes away. “At least my dentist says so.” You grinned at her and ordered three vodka sodas each. It was a tradition with the two of you that you would always order three drinks at a time. Less back and forth, you had reasoned. Although, usually as the night progressed, three drinks were downed in the same amount of time it took to drink one, so it really cancelled itself out in the end.

As tradition warranted, you and Sara cheersed and swallowed your first drink in one breath.

Several more fights occurred, the divisions eventually changing from women’s to men’s. Neither you nor Sara paid much attention to the first few fights: “amateur hour” Sara had said to you “I’m waiting for the good stuff.”

The good stuff, it turned out, started almost an hour and 5 drinks after you arrived.

“Next fight, King V Miller!” The announcer shouted into the microphone to the cheer of the crowd. Sara’s head shot up as if she could sense the sudden change, and she grabbed your hand, tugging you closer to the ring.

“Oh, my god look at him,” Sara said, gesturing to the ring. You knew instantly which one she was talking about. He was tall, with shaggy blonde hair and lean muscle corded over his body.

“He’s pretty spry,” you said, and instantly cringed. Spry? Really?

“I wanna fuck him tonight,” Sara said. Then her voice took on a determined edge. “I am going to fuck him tonight.” Manifestation, Sara called it. If you told the universe what you wanted, the universe would deliver.

Apparently.

“I am going to get more drinks,” you told her. She nodded, not tearing her eyes away from the fighter. You went to the considerably less crowded bar- it seemed like everyone was now watching the fights- and leant against its sticky surface.

You shouted your order over the noise of the crowd, and scanned the bar as you waited. Most faces were familiar in the way that you knew when you had seen someone before, but you didn’t know when or where. That was, until you landed on one dazzlingly familiar face, standing almost right next to you.

“Frankie?”

~*~

Frankie startled at the sound of his name. He looked around, expecting to see one of the boys or maybe an old work friend from the mechanics. The last person he expected was you. But there you stood, looking so good that he was momentarily lost for words.

“Frankie!” You said again, with a huge grin on your face this time.

“Hey!” He grinned back, “what’s a girl like you doing in a dump like this?” His tone held a flirty edge, one he wouldn’t dare have used if he hadn’t already had several bourbon and colas.

“Oh you know, I plan on accosting the winner tonight of all their prize money and taking off into the night, never to be heard from again,” you accepted three drinks from the bartender as you spoke. “What about you?”

“My friend Benny is fighting tonight. He’s actually up right now, the blonde one.”

Your jaw dropped. “No way! My friend wants to fuck your friend.” You pointed your chin towards a tall black woman, dressed like she had wandered out of Studio 54. “Is he single? Can we play wingpeople?”

“He is, we can.” Frankie nodded confidently. Maybe it was the alcohol controlling his brain, but any excuse to spend time with you seemed like a good excuse. “How should we do this?”

“Does your friend Billy-”

“Benny.”

“Benny stick around after the fights?”

“Yeah, he gets free drinks,” Frankie said. You nodded approvingly, taking a sip of one of your own drinks. Frankie watched amazed as you somehow held the two others in one hand, your fingers curling around the hard plastic cups.

“How do you do that?” He asked.

“Do what?”

“Hold your stuff like that,” he gestured to your fingers. You looked down, confused.

“Whatta’ya mean?”

“With your fingers.”

“Oh! Um, I dunno, I just do.” You shrugged and placed the now empty up on a random table, and started on the next drink. It occurred to Frankie that you were well on your way to being very, very drunk.

The crowd cheered loudly as Benny knocked out the other guy with a bloody grin. Frankie whistled his support and Benny caught his eye, saluting tiredly. Santi also caught his attention, and even across the room Frankie could see the wicked grin form on his face. Frankie looked away quickly, not willing to give the bastard any ideas.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Frankie asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

“Some stupid place doing some stupid hunting,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “Fuck him anyway he never lets me do anything fun.”

“What do you mean ‘lets you’?” Frankie said, his brow furrowing.

“I mean, he’s a controlling dickhead!” You said, then slapped a hand over your mouth. “Don’t tell him I just said that! Please!”

“I won’t, I promise,” Frankie said.

“Just forget I said anything,” your voice had taken on an almost desperate edge.

“It’s forgotten,” Frankie lied. He didn’t know how, but he was going to bring it up later. The idea of your boyfriend ‘not letting’ you do something had taken root in his brain, and somehow it made him furious. He took a deep breath, counting slowly to calm himself down.

“Who’s that guy who keeps making faces at you?” You asked, gesturing across the bar. Frankie sighed.

“Santi.” Frankie rolled his eyes at his old friend and waved him over. His curly hair friend bounded over, flashing you with a brilliant white smile.

“Well, hello there,” he said, winking at you. “Santiago Garcia, but you can call me whatever you like.”

You smiled sheepishly and gave him your name, “I work with Frankie.” Santiago’s grin widened at this piece of information, and Frankie groaned internally.

“You’re the girl Frankie told me about.”

“Chatting shit, I’m sure,” you laughed, but Frankie didn’t miss the questioning glance you sent his way when you spoke.

“Santiago was the one who took that photo I told you about,” Frankie said quickly, not wanting you to get the wrong idea. You nodded and leant over towards Santi.

“He keeps promising to show me but he’s yet to deliver,” you said, winking at Frankie. His stomach jumped, breath caught in his throat. He knew you were joking but he couldn’t help but feel like he had disappointed you somehow.

“That’s my fault,” Santi said, “I keep meaning to get him a copy but since he’s sleeping all day I haven’t been able to.” You nodded and turned to Frankie.

“I should go find my Sara before I lose her for the night,” you said, looking at Frankie. “Come find me - I mean, us later? With your Benny?”

“Yeah, of course,” Frankie said, watching as you disappeared into the crowd. The urge to grab you and kiss you grew with every second, but he restrained himself. He wasn’t that kind of guy, and no amount of drinks would make him think it would be a good idea to do that to someone. Let alone you.

~*~

Frankie’s head was cloudy with alcohol, he couldn’t stop thinking about how good your ass looked in that tiny skirt, how he wanted to plant his face directly in your chest.

“Fucking hell, get a grip,” Santiago said, shaking his friend by the shoulder. They were back in the locker rooms, Benny was buzzing with his win. He and Will were going their post match ritual of smacking each other on the back and releasing loud “woo”’s.

“I’m fine,” Frankie insisted, and Santi scoffed.

“You’re full of shit,” he said. “Ironhead, tell this idiot he’s full of shit!”

“You’re full of shit, Fish!” Will said automatically. “But what’s he full of shit for?”

“He’s in denial about pining for the chick he works with,” Santi said. “Look at the poor bastard, it’s written on his face.”

“Fish, you’ve never been good at keeping a straight face when it comes to emotional crap,” Benny said. “All other stuff, you’re great. Just not when it comes to matters of the heart. Or the dick.”

“You should’ve seen the way he was looking at her,” Santi laughed. “And the way she was looking at him, making bedroom eyes at each other.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, ignoring how the last comment made his heart leap. “You’re all stupid, she’s just a work friend saying hi. Nothing more.”

“Full of shit!” Benny cackles. “Look at his blush!” Frankie groaned. They were right about him at least. He had it bad for you.

But that didn’t matter. You had a boyfriend, and even if everything Frankie found out about the guy made him resent him a little more, he couldn’t change that one important fact. And he wasn’t stupid enough to ruin the beginings of his friendship with you over a stupid fucking crush. He just wasn’t.

Benny showered, singing You Belong With Me and switching out the pronouns as he did. The man was an unashamed Swiftie, claiming that she had a song for every situation. Frankie pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep swig of his beer. Will sat beside him and nudged him gently.

“What are you gonna do?” he asked.

Frankie frowned. “What? I’m not gonna ‘do’ anything. She has a boyfriend, end of story.”

“Sorry to hear that man,” Will said, sounding sincere. He knew Frankie wasn’t the type of guy to wreck someone else's relationship for purely selfish reasons. “You’re a good man.”

Frankie wished he wasn’t.

Benny changed into his regular clothes quickly, and said something about needing a drink. The four of them left the locker room and made their way to the bar, and Frankie couldn’t help but look around for you. When he couldn’t see you, he bit back the slight disappointment that sank in his stomach. Benny brought a round for the group and they found an empty table to sit at. The employees of the bar were dismantling the ring to make room for a dance floor. Loud, thumping music started playing and within moments the floor was packed with bodies.

“Frankie! And Frankie’s friends!” Frankie looked around at the sound of your voice, which was high with excitement. You bounded over, clutching the hand of the friend you had pointed out earlier. You introduced yourself and your friend Sara to the group and pulled up a chair for you and Sara each. Frankie didn’t miss how you placed Sara’s chair next to Benny, or how Benny was staring at Sara with his mouth slightly open. He also noticed with a slight pang how you sat yourself between Will and Santi, directly across from him.

What he didn’t was how much you kept looking at him. Lucky for him, Santi and Will noticed plenty.

You and Sara spent a few hours with the group, until a not so inconspicuous Benny and Sara both disappeared, Sara throwing a wink towards you as she left. Will left not long after, saying that his bed was calling his name. Santi stayed a little longer, flirting with you much to Frankie’s annoyance. To his credit, he didn’t show you the catfish photo. Frankie wanted to show you that one himself, when you were both sober.

“I better head out,” Santi said as it rolled past three in the morning. “I’ve gotta babysit Lee tomorrow, and you know how hyper he is.” He turned to you and kissed your hand. “It was the deepest pleasure meeting you, don’t be a stranger. Frankie.” Santi raised an eyebrow and shot him a meaningful look.

“Good night,” he said a little forcefully, shoving Santi towards the door, mainly to get him to stop flirting with you. He knew the flirting was just incentive to spur him into some kind of action with you, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Your friends are nice,” you said, struggling to connect the straw of your drink with your mouth.

“They’re assholes most of the time. They’re just nice to beautiful women.” Frankie regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Shit! Now she thinks I think she’s beautiful. She is! But she doesn’t need to know I think that! Frankie finished off his drink to avoid looking at you.

“I’m attractive til they get to know me,” you said with a snort.

“What makes you think that?” Frankie asked, confused as to how that could work.

“I don’t think,” you said, “I know. It’s a fact. One that cannot be argued.”

Frankie was about to argue with you about this when you turned away, stumbling as you did. She’s super fucking drunk, Frankie thought, grabbing your arms to steady you. Your skin was so much softer than he anticipated, sending a jolt through him. He let go quickly, mouth going dry as you beamed up at him.

“You saved me!” You declared, then finished your drink quickly, emitting a small burp. “To thank you, I must give you a token of my gratitude. I know! A drink! Three drinks for the kind sir! And three for me!”

“Jesus, how much have you had?” Frankie asked, laughing.

“Only a little bit,” you shrugged and thought for a moment. “Maybe like, a dozen vodka sodas and some shots and also half a bottle of prosecco. And also a teeny tiny bit of molly, but that was hours ago, so it’s basically gone.”

“Maybe I should walk you home,” Frankie suggested gently, amazed that you were still upright let alone getting served. You shrugged.

“I can just get an Uber or something, it’s fine.”

“No, no, don’t waste your money, let me walk you.”

You looked up at him with slightly unfocused eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

The cold air outside hit the both of you like a wall. Stars scattered across a moonless sky, leaving Frankie wonderstruck for a moment, until he noticed the goosebumps on your arms. Without a second thought, Frankie took off his jacket and placed it gently around your shoulders. You looked up at him, a surprised look on your face.

“Frankie, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so, I have this friend, right? And she’s been dating this guy for years now. They live together, no kids or anything. But she told me a little while ago that she’s been feeling . . . trapped.”

“Trapped?”

“Yeah. Like, she doesn’t think she loves her boyfriend anymore. At least, not in a way that she should. And he’s so mean to her, too. He doesn’t hit her or anything, but he’s also not super nice to her, and-and she doesn’t always know what she did to deserve it. She doesn’t know what to do.”

“Can she leave?” Frankie suspected you weren't talking about a friend, but he didn’t press beyond what you were willing to tell him.

“Not easily, I don’t think. She doesn’t have enough money for her own place and- and she’s afraid.” Your face flushed.

“What’s she afraid of?”

“Being alone. Unloved. She doesn’t have any family or anything and her boyfriend is the closest she has to that. So um, if she was your friend, what would you say to her?”

Frankie was thoughtful for several moments. He didn’t want to fuck this up. If his suspicions were correct, you were talking about yourself. “Well, first of all I would tell her that her boyfriend is a massive dick, even if he doesn’t hit her, boyfriends shouldn’t make their girlfriends feel like shit. I would tell her to talk to her friends, ask for their help. I would also tell her that being alone doesn’t have to mean lonely, and it certainly doesn’t mean that she’s going to be unloved.”

You nodded thoughtfully at this. Frankie took this as a good sign. “She can’t know for sure what her life will be like, but my guess is that it will be better if she chooses to leave this asshole.”

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. Frankie knew you were thinking about what he said. He too, was lost in thought. Trying to figure out a plan to help you in any way he could. All too soon, you arrived at your apartment building.

“Thanks for this,” you said, taking off the jacket and handing it to him. Frankie nodded.

“You needed it more than me,” he said simply. “I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?”

You nodded, and then as if you weren’t entirely sure if what you were about to do was a good idea, you wrapped your arms around him. Frankie stiffened for a moment before hugging you back, holding you to him tightly, breathing in your scent of perfume, sweat, and alcohol. You were warm and soft and everything in him was screaming don’t let go.

“Thank you,” you whispered in his ear, and he knew you weren’t talking about the jacket.

Taglist: Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209

[keilemlucent]

the sex party: i

 (r18+)

shinsou hitoshi x reader

ao3

part 1 (you’re here!)   ||    part 2

word count: ~7.1k

You and Hitoshi definitely have a thing for each other, but who would've thought that a 'sex party' would produce a confession?

warnings: 

COLLEGE AU! characters are explicitly aged up to college students as early 20 year olds!

not really a sex party, mutual pining, friends to lovers, confessions, reader is canonically bi, brief momo x reader, light dom/sub, spanking, references to drug use, smoking (cigarettes, salem trademarked fic thing), drinking, and smut

there is a scene where there is attempted sexual assault. it is marked with ***** before and after. 

---------

this.... this piece is a monster. i’ve been wrestling with it for a month and now its here for y’all. the second part is already out ;^)) thank you to @keiqos for being an absolute king and beta reader this monster. enjoy y’all!!

||||||||||||||||| 

You never imagined that you would be where you were. It was under weird circumstances, but god if you weren’t going to try and enjoy it. 

The party you found yourself attending was lit with flashing lights and rainbow projections. There were two different DJs on various floors of the suburban mansion. They bumped out remixed club music, making the walls hum and thrum and bodies writhe and sweat. One of the kitchen counters was loaded with bottles and bottles of hard liquor and mixers. 

You were quickly making a third mixie. Just a vodka soda, boringly. There were certainly more fun options, but you weren’t exactly sure how to feel about this party just yet. You were having trouble discerning whether this was a ‘gin and tonic millennial’ party or a ‘jungle juice in an old cooler’ party. 

Denki and Jiro had convinced nearly two car-fulls of your friends to roll up. It sounded so fun, so wild!

  “Yo! Our friends from the EDM scene are throwing a SEX party! You all should come! It’s at a mansion across town!”

 Their ‘friends’ were two middle-aged, white hippies who did a lot of molly for their age. 

Nonetheless, you found yourself in a massive, odd house and managed to lose your friends fairly quickly (and accidentally). All the rooms stayed dimly lit and loud. You could hardly keep track of your own two feet. 

Someone pressed you into the counter, a hand grazing against your barely covered ass. 

You whipped around, watching as a couple walked away, one of them giving incredibly loud bedroom eyes.

Oh yeah, the ‘sex party’ part.

It wasn’t a kink party, or really a sex party at all. Sex was encouraged and provided for, but not necessary. The mansion’s massive attic was where most of the sex acts were happening with its five beds, three bondage rigs, a wall of toys of all types, condoms, lube, whippits, and even Viagra in decorative bowls. You had yet to venture up, but Denki had already spammed the group chat about it.

(It had been the first place he went upon arriving.)

You took your drink down the stairs (the place had three fucking basements) and turned into a small hallway that led outside.

It was cold, but your somewhat drunk body hardly minded. The sobering bite of wind gave a nice reprieve from the thrumming heat inside. 

You immediately spotted Hitoshi leaning on a retaining wall, half a cigarette hanging from his lips. His face lit up, when he saw you, waving you over.

 You smiled back at him, glad to find a friend and best of all Hitoshi. 

You two were quite close. 

In addition to both being sociology majors and having a lot of overlap when it came to classes, you’d known each other since freshman year and only grew closer with time. You’d spent many nights at his house off-campus, sipping cup after cup of black coffee in the midst of a paper writing and studying. You also definitely didn’t ever have close calls of affection though, no. 

No. 

Never.

You and Hitoshi were obviously just friends.

...

“Wild party, huh?” Hitoshi quirked an eyebrow, nodding to the house. He offered you a cigarette that you took greedily. 

You placed it between your lips, Hitoshi ever so casually leaning forward to light it with his signature clipper. He’d nabbed it off some ‘milf’ at the casino which he and Denki had gone to for bingo ‘for the meme’ freshmen year. 

You let out a puff, “Thank you! And yes, very wild. I’m on drink three and I still feel overwhelmed.”

Hitoshi sipped his own, nodding in agreement, “I know Jiro and Denki know some wild people from the scene, but this seems over the top.”

“It is kind of fun? But definitely an ‘I need to be a little more fucked up’ kind of fun,” You remarked.

You set down your cigarette on the cement wall, attempting to boost yourself up onto it. You nearly had it, except you really didn’t and slipped back down. You anxiously turned around, checking your dress over for any sort of tears. 

Hitoshi set down his own cigarette, standing in front of you. You looked up at him and felt very small and very horny all of a sudden. It certainly wasn’t an abnormal set of feelings, given how the two of you teased each other relentlessly. 

“Need some help there?” He chuckled at your struggle as you frowned up at him.

“If you insist.” You expected him to offer a hand to stabilize yourself on but no, Hitoshi’s big hands were suddenly grabbing at your waist, lifting you on the walls with little effort.

You swore you almost felt him squeeze you before letting go.

“You’re welcome,” Hitoshi just smirked as he returned to his spot, taking a deep drag to look at you through lowered lids.

You glared, but in good fun. 

At that moment, a few other of your friends poured from the door to the patio. They were all shouting, jarring and drunk, and very happy to see the two of you.

You unconsciously shifted a bit closer to Hitoshi on the wall, bare leg just barely touching his shoulder.

You didn’t notice it, but Hitoshi definitely leaned into you too. 

“(Y/N)! Hitoshi!” Momo addressed you firmly as Denki and Hanta snickered behind her. “You both are smarter than to smoke, aren’t you?”

“Nope,” You popped the word from your mouth to take another drag.

“We’re drunk, give it a rest,” Hitoshi waved his hand dismissively. You were both her friends, but she did have a pole up her ass sometimes. 

Almost to emphasize the point, Jiro withdrew her own pack and started offering to other people. 

As the ever-important smoking ritual continued, you couldn’t help but shiver from the now-painful gusts of wind. You abruptly hopped off of the wall, only wobbling a little on your heels as you hit the ground. Hitoshi moved to steady you, a firm hand on your shoulder.

(God, you wanted to melt into him.)

See, Hitoshi had been smart enough to wear a warm outfit. A pair of black jeans, a form-fitting, well-cut sweater, and a jacket which was slung over his arm. 

He offered it to you, eyebrow raised, “If you’re cold, you’re welcome to this. I’m gonna stash it when I get inside anyways.”

You shook your head, pushing back on his arm, feeling the hard muscle beneath. You almost shivered. “No, no it’s okay. I’m gonna head back in.”

“Mind if I tag along then?” Hitoshi asked, eyes scanning around you. He seemed well aware that there were some creeps at this party.

Most of the time, you wouldn’t feel great about needing some tall, beefy dude to casually stand around as a deterrent. But, honestly? You appreciated it immensely. 

“Right this way, smokestack,” You just had to give him shit, it was part of your cute dynamic right?

(It made the incessant flirting easier to hide.)

...

You couldn’t help but continually notice how Hitoshi had bulked up. He had been hitting the gym a lot and working on himself physically. 

God, did it show. 

His body had been a bit lanky and wiry before, but he’d filled out so well. With his cute sweater on, you could see how the fabric stretched tight around his biceps and his chest. You couldn’t look at his forearms in any setting or risk drooling all over yourself.

Not that you would mind drooling for Hitoshi, but you’d prefer it to be in a different context. 

(But, you’d never admit that.)

 The two of you wordlessly winded through the house, finding a somewhat less feral living room in one of the basements to relax in. Most everyone occupying the space was just mingling, save for a few couples making out. It seemed manageable. You settled for a spot on the carpet against a wall.

Hitoshi raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“I feel way safer sitting on a floor than a couch here,” You couldn’t help smiling when you saw him snuff out his own amusement. 

You both watched as a couple was grinding and audibly moaning on one of the aforementioned couches. Hitoshi relented, “Point taken.”

He slid down the wall next to you, shoulder to shoulder, drinks in hand.

You both sat in silence for a minute, just taking the sounds and sights of the party. People-watching could have been an olympic sport at this shindig. 

“Hey,” Hitoshi broke the mild tension, tapping your upper thigh over your dress. “I’m not saying this to be a creep, really, I promise. But, I really like your dress.”

You turned your body slightly, towards him. Oh, now you needed to give him shit— “Oh, how complementary. Not creepy at all. Just my very sweet, male friend telling me how I look pretty in my party dress.”

Hitoshi leaned closer to you, mirroring you by lying half on his side. His breath and heat curled over your face and neck, “Oh, (Y/N), now you’re putting words in my mouth. I said that I like your dress. Because it’s one of Mei’s designs, right?”

You looked down, heat filling your cheeks. 

Fuck your drunk mouth.

“Though,” Oh, Hitoshi was closer. He had leaned to your ear, steadying a hand on your shoulder. “I do think you’re pretty in this dress. I’d use a different word instead of pretty though.”

“Like?” 

“Mmmm, gorgeous,” He hummed too casually. “As strong of a word as I can use without being a creep, right?”

“‘Toshi,” You groan, swatting his hand away. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

He just beamed at you, “I’ve been told.”

Hitoshi drew back and met your eyes.

Once more, you mirrored each other. Both of you bore comically dilated pupils, wet lips, flushed faces and slight tremors in your hands.

“You know, I think I referred to you as ‘sweet’ too...” You raised an eyebrow at him. You couldn’t help the way your gaze flickered down to his lips. It flitted back up, “But, that’s nothing, right?”

Hitoshi bit his lip, taking a big breath. 

Suddenly, he was standing up. 

“Hey, wait—” You stammered, standing as well. “I’m sorry, that was a lot. I only meant to tease.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Hitoshi put his hands in front of himself, creating distance between the two of you. “Same. You know I can’t help giving you trouble, (Y/N).”

Ouch.

You cracked a smile, rubbing your arms, “Of course, yeah. Silly friend shit.”

Hitoshi was quick to redirect, pointing a thumb out of the room, “I’ve gotta hang this somewhere. See you in a bit, or you can come with me if you like?”

“Nah, I’ll wander,” You patted his shoulder, waltzing off your churning gut by cutting in front of him. “Take it easy, smokestack.”

You couldn’t hear if he replied.

 ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 You did, in fact, wander. With meandering feet, you moved through room after room. You poured yourself another drink, but it’s not nearly as strong. Your run-in with Hitoshi soured your mood. While not fully ruined, you were definitely feeling weirder than you wanted to be.

Hitoshi and you obviously had energy, yeah. But the most either of you had acted on it was ‘seemingly meaningless’ flirting. It was always followed up with a ‘no homo’ or ‘aha, got ‘ya!’, yet it always felt real in the moment. You weren’t a dumbass. You had caught Hitoshi eyeing you a few (read: many) different times. There were so many close calls and contacts between the two of you.

 There was one time while you were making a box of mac and cheese in Hitoshi’s kitchen circa 2 AM. You had borrowed one of his shirts and a pair of joggers to sleep in, a common act of yours. He walked past you for a glass of water, keeping the cup under the tap until it ran over just to look you up and down. 

His gaze wasn’t prying or predatory, not even close. You trusted Hitoshi with your life and you knew that he wouldn’t ever breach boundaries like that. Rather, he regarded you in a way that made him lose time, something soft and gooey in his eyes. That time, it wasn’t lustful attention. It just felt-

(Like the way lovers look at one and other, enamored.)

 Another time was during one of his performances. The house venue had been dimly lit and musty as fuck, but that didn’t distract Hitoshi. As Jiro’s vocals shook the basement, you met eyes with Hitoshi as he slammed on guitar. His gaze always returned to you throughout the whole set. When you had teased him about it, he claimed that looking at you helped keep his stage fright in check.

The reasoning didn’t calm the butterflies in your stomach. 

 There was another particularly telling occurrence where you had fallen asleep on Hitoshi’s floor in the middle of working on your final paper for your theory class the semester prior. He returned from his smoke break to find you curled up under the first piece of cloth you could find (which, in that case, was one of his hoodies). You weren’t fully asleep, and you certainly weren’t when Hitoshi hefted you into his arms, laying you so gently down on his bed and covering you with a throw blanket. 

Oh, god, the sweetness, like something you’d never known when you felt his hand on your face, smoothing over your cheekbones, your nose, and then your lips. His gentle voice, deep with the late-night, “You work too hard, you know.”

He nestled next on the floor next to the bed, leaving you to sleep undisturbed the rest of the night. 

There were, of course, many more instances of Hitoshi’s way-too-kind kindness, and a pile of your own moments as well. 

It was all damning, but relatively ignored. Your friendship was more important than any stupid feelings the two of you had right? You refused to acknowledge your own feelings beyond semi-sexual remarks, jabs, and jests. You couldn’t jeopardize your friendship, right?

...

 You eventually found yourself at the foot of the stairs that led to the attic. Even from the landing, you could hear various rhythmic slaps, moans, and laughter. 

You ascended the stairs and took in the sight greeting you.

There were various bondage rigs that were free-standing, all occupied at the moment you entered. Loops for ropes and chains to be tied to drilled into the ceiling. Flogs, whips, canes, and other implements hung heavy on one of the walls.

The room was lit dimly, yet nothing seemed obscured. A few rainbow lights illuminated the sweaty bodies about the room. Not everyone was having full-on sex. Most people were actually clothed. A lot of folks it seemed were just there spectating. 

Speaking of most people, your party peers were all lounging on the beds. Sans, Hitoshi, of course, standing and laughing with Kaminari. 

The lot saw you enter and flagged you down. You walked past a heavily-tattooed man getting pegged by a woman in a tutu and a crowd of costumed partygoers doing whippits which were being handed out by a man in an elaborate steampunk top hat. A cute girl with silver hair was strung up in a nearby rig, moaning as a leather-clad man fingerfucked her. 

You stood next to Hitoshi, bumping into his arm with your own, “Didn’t take you for a voyeur.” 

He snorted, joshing you back, “I have my moments.”

“I didn’t take you for a prude, (Y/N)!” Denki snickered, bringing attention to you. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost when you walked in here.”

“Denki, please,” You rolled your eyes. “I walked into a room made for very wild sex acts. That’s a very different expression than the one you’re describing.”

That made him snort and fall back onto the bed, along with Hanta and Mina. 

(How high were they? That wasn’t even a good joke.)

Hitoshi chuckled himself, something low and lumbering.

(Don’t think about how hot that is.)

“This makes me think back to that night, in sophomore year,” Hanta spoke as he sat up. “You know, kink night.”

“Oh, yeah! I forget about that,” Denki turned towards you and Hitoshi and raised his eyebrows.

You flushed.

Momo, innocently, asked, “Kink night?”

Hitoshi cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you.

“Oh yeah!” Mina piped up, hugging Momo’s shoulders from behind. Jiro was sitting in Momo’s lap, head on her tits. “We made a drinking game of exposing our weird sex acts and kinks to each other.”

You laughed uncomfortably at the memory, avoiding the very embarrassing and horny part that involved you, “That was the day that we found Mineta was into scat.”

“Oh wow,” Jiro gawked. “That was before Mineta got canceled?”

“Oh, yeah. He got wasted and ran off after that. Thank god.” Denki snickered. “You know what else happened that night?”

“Denki, please, stop talking.” It was Hitoshi placing a firm hand on the other’s shoulder. 

Denki just looked at the two of you like he was some old god of mischievous, turning back to the girls, “That’s when we all found out about Hitoshi and (Y/N)’s suuuuuuuuuper compatible kinks. Like, scary compatible.”

“They got sooooo awkward about it too!” Mina snickered, looking at your and Hitoshi with matchmaker in her eyes. 

You would kick her ass for it later. In that moment, you tried to keep a somewhat neutral expression as you recalled the night in question.

Sure, it was a year or two back and you and Hitoshi weren’t half as close back then. 

The lot of you had been sitting on the floor of Denki and Hitoshi’s dorm, passing around a bottle of cheap, flavored vodka in a fucked up, horny game of truth or dare.

...

  “You’re next (Y/N)!” Mina passed the bottle to you and fell back against the carpet. You swallowed thickly, swishing the content liquor inside. “Dare or sex act?”

The rules of the game were simple. Choosing ‘dare’ meant that someone else chose a sexually-charged dare for you and ‘sex act’ meant exposing either a kink or a sex act you’d done. It was a roulette either way, but one option gave you far more control than the other. 

After the last dare consisting of Denki giving a very messy lap dance to Eijiro, and you weren’t really in the mindset to repeat anything even close to that.

“Sex act,” You sighed in defeat.

Denki snickered in the corner, “Spill it!”

Hanta cheered you on as you bit your lip in thought.

The liquor swirling in your stomach was affecting your inhibitions, and with one shy, half-glance to Hitoshi, you spoke up. 

“I have a spanking kink, what of it.”

You drowned out Hitoshi’s red cheeks and the cheers of your friends with a deep chug from the bottle.

The bottle was passed to Hitoshi as you asked the question, “Dare or sex act?”

Jiro giggled from the bed, sipping at her own drink as well. 

“Sex act,” Hitoshi groaned, rolling his eyes at Denki, but you all knew he loved what was going on.

“Reveal yourself, Hitoshi! What gets your rocks off!?” Mina shouted drunkenly as she rolled on the floor. You made a mental note to cut her off from having any more of the trashy vodka.  

Hitoshi gave you a fleeting, but very horny look before regarding the group.

There was a twitch in your lip that made you think his smirk was all for you.

“I love pulling a cute girl over my lap and turning her ass purple while she’s begging for more.”

As everyone around you jeered and cheered, you gulped. 

And so did Hitoshi.

...

 “Yeah!” Hanta fell back. “That was so fucking funny. Like, all night it was all (Y/N) being like ‘I’m a filthy masochist!’ and Hitoshi being like ‘I’m a filthy sadist!’”

“Hanta, for the love of god,” You interrupted him, face burning with a fucked up mix of shame and lust. Hitoshi was mirroring you. “Why do you have to bring that up?”

“Oh, dude, because whenever we talk about it, you and Hitoshi get so embarrassed, it’s hilarious!” Hanta fucking giggled and reached for his drink. 

“Are we gonna talk about how you and Denki both like fisting—” You give them a taste of their own medicine, watching the two of them choke and gawk. To the side, Momo whispered to Jiro, eyeing you. 

Hitoshi barked out a laugh, losing some tension in his shoulders. You met his eye for a moment, only to see the jewelish purple taken up by his blackened pupils.

Fuck.

Momo spoke up, brow furrowed, “Can I request something a bit odd of you, (Y/N)? It’s perfectly okay if you say no.”

“Shoot,” You reply, sipping your beverage. 

Momo bit her lip, eyes going to Jiro, then you, “Can I try spanking you?”

Everyone collectively choked. You especially.

You took another nervous sip of your drink, avoiding eye contact with the group.

You regained composure, refusing to look at Hitoshi, but letting the fucked up idea brew and brew in your mind, “Uh, I mean, is Jiro okay with it?”

“Oh yeah, totally,” Jiro nodded, kissing her girlfriend’s jaw. “Pain isn't my thing, at all, and she’s always wanted to try it. And hey, if you’re a ‘filthy masochist’, be my guest.”

But, would you be her guest?

Your drunken mind considered.

It was the most acceptable setting for it to happen in public. You really did like getting spanked and were a raging masochist, so it would, at the very least, be fun for you. A little humiliating, but that was also a turn on. You’d also get to indulge Momo, who was dating Jiro, but they both seemed perfectly okay with a bit of platonic pain play, so what was the real harm? 

Your gaze flickered to Hitoshi.

Oh, fuck.

His face was lit up with a deep blush even in the irisian hues of the sex attic. His eyes were pointed distinctively opposite of you, a hand literally over his mouth as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Your mind lit up with ideas.

Terrible, sinful ideas that you would be the peak of you and Hitoshi’s teasing.

Fuck it.

“Sure, I’m down,” You smirked and Momo lit up. Immediately, she was up and scouting out the area for a spot to go to town. Momo even seemed to be eyeing up a wall of toys. 

“Hey,” Jiro whispered to you as you truly realized what you got yourself into. “Thanks for this. She’s really into this kind of stuff, and I like indulging her, but I can’t handle too much.”

“Oh, of course!” You spoke so brightly. “I have a high pain tolerance, so I’m sure I can take what she dishes out, too.”

You heard Hitoshi clear his throat behind you.

You let yourself take another glance at Hitoshi and it made you want to die on the spot. His eyes glared in anger with the sinful intensity that was entirely directed at you. You could tell by the awkward way he was leaning that he was trying to hide the bulge in his jeans.

Is... Is he that turned on by just the thought of me getting spanked?

Oh, this truly was your best teasing yet.

(Were you taking this too far?)

Kaminari was gripping the sleeve of Hitoshi’s sweater, not allowing him to leave. Judging by how the latter was looking and staring, he wasn’t going to either way.

Momo walked back over, tugging you by the hair to a bed that was a lot higher than the others. It was the perfect height for you to bend over.

“What’s your safeword?” She asked, running her hand down your back to push you against the comforter like she’d done this hundreds of times before. Your chest fell against the bed, forearms giving you a bit of leverage. 

You hummed, “Just ‘red’ should be good.”

“Perfect,” Momo smiled before pressing the back of your neck, forcing your face into the sheets. “I’m gonna give you ten with my hand, okay?”

“I trust you, Momo, do your worst,” You spoke so confidently, but truly you didn’t know what was coming.

Momo smoothed a hand over your ass, hardly covered due to the angle you were bent over. The pretty fabric of your dress, pulled over your curves, was hiding less and less. Momo hummed, running a firm hand down the zipper of the dress, “Do you have a preference as to if I pull your dress up or not?”

Oh, holy fuck. 

That was beyond teasing.

Fuck it.

“You can pull it up, but keep my panties on. I need some dignity,” You winked back at her. 

Momo blushed. She delicately pulled the fabric back, resulting in a round of wolf whistles from your friend. Sober you was going to hate the fact you did this, but drunk you? Thriving.

(Though you wished it was Hitoshi delivering, but you digress.)

Without warning, Momo brought her hand down on your ass, a loud smack resounding around the room, causing a slight hush.

Oh fuck. 

You were already drawing some attention.

Despite the pleasant haze of painful pleasure that was beginning to swirl in your mind and gut, you couldn’t help but notice the looks and stares. 

Particularly, you got a nasty feeling from the figure in the far corner eyeing you up from ass to toes. He looked fairly nondescript, but the aura he was giving off felt like poison. Something sticky and unpleasant formed in your gut when you looked at him. Your drunken mind chased it away by turning your head the other way. 

And then all you could see was Hitoshi’s gaze on you.

It was damn near feral.

His cheeks flushed and dewy. A bit of sweat was dripping down his temple, reflecting the party lighting like some sort of sick joke. One of his hands was raking through his violet locks. His teeth dug into his full lips as he stared you down. 

Your eyes met and you refused to look away.

So did he. 

Another hit, harder, made you bite your lip to suppress a cry.

Three more and you couldn’t help the bubbling sounds that were spilling from you. Soft cries and moans, maybe a whimper or two leaked from your bitten lips. Momo wasn’t holding back, and you were sure your ass would ache tomorrow.

Good.

Two more and tears leaked from your eyes. You were sure your friends were just waiting to give both you and Momo so much shit, but you couldn’t care less. All you could do was drink in the hungry way Hitoshi eyed you. 

It was definitely not the way people who were ‘just friends’ looked at each other. 

“Last two, make ‘em count!” Mina shouted from behind you with a cheer. Some of the others in the room were clamoring to watch.

Momo ran a soothing hand down your back, “You doing okay?”

“I’m peachy,” You push out, voice clearly tear-stricken. “Finish me off, Momo. Bruise me.”

That apparently set her off. Momo smacked your ass with such a force that your face pressed harshly into the bed, obscuring your view of Hitoshi. 

The last slap was, by far, the worst. Momo decided to tease you, torturing the raw skin of your ass. She would wind up only to pet your lower back or stroke the tops of your thighs. When she finally gave you the hit you deserved (for torturing Hitoshi and yourself), it sounded across the room just as loud as your sob that followed it. Tears leaked from your eyes as your breath came out in shudders. You loved the feeling of numbness and pain that emanated from your abused cheeks. You relished it.

You turned your head upright, vision blurry. Momo pulled your dress down, helping you sit up. 

You didn’t get much of a chance to catch your breath as Hitoshi dashed away and out of the sex room, very tense and very distressed judging by how Denki was shouting after him.

Oh fuck.

You kicked yourself mentally, cursing your stupid fucking hubris.

You took it too far.

He’s either turned on, uncomfortable as fuck, or both.

Probably both.

 You start to sit up, ignoring the sobering pain heating up your ass. Quickly, Momo pressed you back down to the bed. A solo cup of clear liquid was offered to you. 

“Aftercare, obligatory. Drink this, it’s just water,” Momo stated curtly, watching you down the water. You rubbed the tears from your eyes. 

“How’s my makeup?” You asked, ignoring the rising panic in your chest. 

Momo inspected you for a moment as the others came over, jeering. She quickly rubbed away smears of mascara, running a hand over the side of your face, “Do you feel okay?”

“Yeah, totally. Shit was fun,” You prayed you were disguising the turning of your gut well enough with your nonchalant tone. “I’m gonna find Hitoshi and make sure he has an extra pair of pants.”

Momo frowned, pressing you down and squeezing your shoulders, “Somehow, I don’t believe that. Please rest for a moment, (Y/N).”

You faltered, following Momo’s command without much thought. Your mind was still in a somewhat of a fog as you sipped at the water she gave you. Her hand rubbed at your shoulders and back, dropping praise every few moments. 

The rest of your peers filed over, cheering, flopping on the bed around you. 

“Holy fuck, (Y/N),” Hanta whistled, clapping your shoulder.

“That was so hot,” Denki sighed, red-faced and wide-eyed. 

Momo ran an affectionate hand through your hair as Jiro fell into her lap, winking at you, “She’s so good, right?”

“Yeah, holy fuck. If y’all ever need a third, you have my number.” You breathed, shaking out a laugh. “I think I need to find Hitoshi, though.”

 You stood up, wobbling for a moment, comically aware of sets of eyes on you as you dashed away. Your friends shouted encouragement from behind you as you descended the stairs.

Truthfully, your intent was to smooth things over and make the routine, ‘but we’re bros!’ comment. You knew that this wouldn’t be enough, considering how far you pushed it.

You fucked up.

Took it too far. 

What does Hitoshi even think of you now?

...

Your mind was sobering with the help of the water and pain. 

You had to find Hitoshi.

So, you quickly moved about the house.

You scanned room after room, checked the front and back yard, but couldn’t find him anywhere.

  Where the fuck was he?

 You passed by a room upstairs, door shut, and you swore you heard his voice inside.

The panic that had been brewing in you was spilling over. Your ass ached and walking hurt like hell with the bruises that were forming. All you wanted was a cigarette and to apologize to your best friend for taking things way too fucking far—

You swung the door open and was met with a scene that did not include Hitoshi Shinsou.

A mess of four very cute, very high girls, mostly but not entirely clothed, were writhing on the bed, all popping up to look at you. 

You flushed, body tensing as you tried to laugh it off, “Oh, wow, sorry about this! I thought my friend was in here. I’ll let you all get back to it.”

The girls hardly seemed perturbed by the sudden intrusion, rather they seemed quite complimentary. 

“Aw, you don’t wanna join?” One of the girls pouted, giving you puppy dog eyes. “You’re so pretty!”

“T-thank you,” You shook your head, “You are all very sweet, but I have to find my friend.”

“The one behind you?” A different girl asked. 

Your hazed mind hadn’t even picked up that was anyone behind you. 

You couldn’t help lighting up. Hitoshi had to be behind you, of course, this silly anxiety attack would come to an end—

You turned.

Your face fell.

***********

It was the creep from the sex room, grinning down at you. There was a nasty glint in his eye.

Your heart started going faster. Your gut soured with a feeling far off from drunkenness.

“Actually, uh, no, I’ll be going, thanks.” You tried to sidestep the man, but he quickly blocked the doorway, boxing you in.

“No, I think we’ll stay,” Oh, the man’s voice was sick in your ears. 

You were too shocked to move at first.

His reached for your shoulder, but you managed to stumble back from him. 

“No, hey, dude, don’t touch me,” You barked back, pass your growing fear. 

He scoffed, muttering something about you being a  ‘cheap whore’ and stalked you down. 

Your back hit a wall. You froze.

You felt trapped. 

His cheap cologne was choking you.

He was just inches away. 

You looked helplessly to the girls on the bed, but they had dissolved back into each other. Their hands were grabbing at each other's writhing bodies, clothes being torn away with light moans filling the air. They were far too fucked to be bothered with what was happening to you. The deafening music of the party drowned out your senses beyond the small room. 

You tried to slip away from him, out of the door, but his arm slammed beside you.

He caged you. 

His hand shot to grab your wrap, squeezing hard and shooting pain into your shoulder as you tried to rip yourself away. 

“Get the fuck away from me!” You snarled, trying to wrench out of his grip, away from him. You fell deeper into panic. 

You could feel his breath on your ear, and your heart dropped in your chest. With the thrum of the party, it felt far too loud for anyone to hear you. Even if you shouted for help, would anyone come? No one even knew that anything was wrong—

A voice cracked like a roll of thunder through the man’s actions and the drone of the party.

“Get the fuck off of them before I break your fucking fingers.” A familiar, blessed voice cut the air from behind you.

Thank fucking god.

Hitoshi stood in the doorway. 

You almost sobbed in relief.

His broad form took up most of the door frame, chest puffed out in his anger. His brow was lowered, mouth twisted in revulsion and fury, all directed at the man who had you caged. Only rage colored Hitoshi’s features. Until he caught your gaze, anyways. 

Then, it all dissolved to fear. 

“We’re busy, she’s fine, fuck off.” The guy said, digging his hand into your side. 

You kicked at his shoe, relishing the way he hissed in pain. 

The man glared at you, then looked to Hitoshi. The man scoffed, looking him up and down to assess whether putting up a fight was worth it.

Apparently not, as the man shoved you roughly towards Hitoshi.

*********

You tripped into the latter’s chest as he caught you easily. 

Without missing a beat, he steadied you and crushed you to him. One of his broad hands moved up to almost shield the side of your face. You were surprised to find that his body was shaking just as hard as your own. You both mirrored each other in rage and panic. 

You pressed your face into his sweater as tears remained dangerously close to falling from your eyes. Fear still tore through you and everything about Hitoshi made you feel a hell of a lot safer.

Hitoshi’s arm tightened as he continued his stare-down.

The man grumbled, exiting the room in a huff and harshly pushing back Hitoshi (and you). You flinched, wincing. A low, rumbling growl rumbled in Hitoshi’s chest as he stared death at the man. 

You knew that this was probably all too much. There were details of intimacy and boundaries that were being broken without thought from both of you and that was very bad, probably. 

But, you also were drunk on fear as opposed to vodka, and having someone safe to hold you felt better than any hit you could’ve found at the party. 

You surrendered to your very obvious reality. 

 When the man was gone, filtered back into the party, Hitoshi looked down at you, his mood entirely changing. 

His anger dissolved. His face softened as he tenderly (and quickly) assessed you. Concerned, but earnest eyes searched your face and body for visible signs of harm. When he was satisfied, Hitoshi linked your hands and pulled you from the room. 

He walked you through the party, quickly but gingerly. Your mind buzzed, still panicked and anxious, but the thought of cold air and a less stimulating environment was like aloe on a burn. 

Finally, you reached the front door, walking onto an empty front landing. 

You fell into Hitoshi. 

Your sweaty, shaking hands clung to the back of his sweater as you buried your face into his neck. The familiar scent of his woodsy cologne and natural sweat was more of a sedative than any drug you could find at the party and you fucking needed it.

Hitoshi wrapped his arms around you from the small of your back to your shoulders, squeezing as he buried his face in your hair. 

You stiffened but relaxed a moment later. You couldn’t keep pretending. You didn’t have it in you. 

You were surrounded by him and the cold air, and nothing felt more comforting. 

You decided to forget the semantics of your relationship for a little. 

(You hoped, prayed, that he would too).

Hitoshi suddenly tensed, “Is it okay that I’m touching you?”

You could only nod, voice weak and small in the back of your throat, “Y-yeah, it's cool. It’s been cool.” 

Hitoshi grounded you, turning the two of you so you were protected from any potential prying eyes. He moved you just right so that his cheek rested on top of your head. 

You allowed yourself to close your eyes and focus on the calming beat of Hitoshi’s heart. 

He soothed you by existing; he always did. But, in that moment, after such an uncomfortably close brush with something fucking disgusting, his presence was almost cleansing. It purged you of the incessant clawing in the back of your mind.

You’re safe. 

You pulled away just enough to look up at Hitoshi’s face. You felt him give you a squeeze which made the smallest, unlikely smile form on your lips. 

Slowly, like he was trying not to spook a wild animal, Hitoshi cupped the side of your face. The hold was firm, like it had power to it. You sank into his palm. 

(Fuck that feels nice—)

“How are you feeling?” Hitoshi asked softly, gaze warm and honey-like.

You laughed weakly, leaning into his palm, “Like shit. Holy fuck.”

The hand cradling your lower back stroked a thumb idly, “I can only imagine. What happened back there? That guy had been in the ‘sex room’ with us, right?”

“Uh, excuse you, ‘sex attic’, I think you mean?” You still managed to joke. “And yes. Must’ve been following me or something, fucking creep.”

“If you want, I’ll go back in there and kick the shit outta him. I’m sure the others will help. It’d be so worth getting him thrown out for,” Hitoshi snickered, turning his head towards the door as he did.  

As he turned back, his eyes widened as your fearful expression returned.

“P-please don’t leave,” You knew it was too much, right? Obviously. But, you didn’t care. 

You felt fairly certain Hitoshi didn’t either by that point. 

You pressed yourself back close to him and buried your face in the crook of his neck, clutching at his front. “Please don’t go.”

You weren’t sure if he’d return any affections (obviously earlier gestures were just to comfort you, right?). 

He did. Immediately, he squeezed as much of you as he could reach, nuzzling his face into the side of your head. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.” Hitoshi reassured you with his voice as well as his touch. You shuddered, feeling his lips and breath so close. 

The two of you stayed like that for a while.

You retained your death grip on Hitoshi, contemplating it all. Perhaps it was the setting or the way your body was thrumming, but something was forcing you to come to terms with how you really felt about him.

You enjoyed teasing Hitoshi too much for it to just be platonic. You knew this.

You wondered how Hitoshi felt considering all of those heated looks and smirks he loved dishing out.

(An insecure thought or two crept about only being a fuck to him. You tried to repress it, though it certainly didn’t calm you.) 

 Despite these thoughts, you held Hitoshi with everything you had, fearing that whatever long-cultivated connection the two of you would slip away by the end of the night.

After a few minutes of slow silence, Hitoshi offered you a cigarette, which you took graciously. He leaned forward to light it, silently regarding you with warm eyes. 

You took a fat inhale, breathing out with shaky lungs. 

“I’m sorry.” You spoke abruptly. 

His eyes widened and he shook his head, gently grabbing your shoulders, “No, (Y/N), there is literally nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“No, there is. The thing with Momo,” You shook your head. “That was bad. I’m sorry, I was teasing you and I took it too far. Way too far.”

Hitoshi went still, averting his eyes and biting his lip. 

“I appreciate the apology,” Hitoshi's face erupted in red. “B-but, you don’t need to be sorry.”

He’s... embarrassed?

Oh.

(You truly were a dumbass, but god love ‘ya.)

You took another puff, nodding. 

Hitoshi pulled you to him again, this time wrapping an arm around your shoulders. His thumb rubbed idly at the bare skin of your arm as he whipped out his phone.

“What do you want to do?” The air was cold as Hitoshi spoke. It nipped at your skin and made you crinkle your nose.

With a moment's hesitation, you replied in a hoarse voice, “Can we go home?”

Hitoshi visibly softened for you, “Of course. I can call us an Uber. To your dorm...?” There’s a question in his voice that you both already knew the answer to.

You shook your head, “Your place?”

He nodded, “Of course, (Y/N).” 

You leaned into his shoulder, letting yourself relax. 

[2seokfan]

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 1

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 3.6k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4

summary: 

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year?  So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a rollercoaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

note: Hi! This is my first fic ever! I don’t even know if anyone’s gonna read this but I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile so fuck it.

You kicked off your shoes and threw your purse on the couch.

“God my back hurts!” 

Honestly with the amount of random bodily aches you experience on a daily business you could pass for being 70 years old. But this time you knew where the pain stemmed from. You just had to fall asleep awkwardly after a night on your phone. And of course today was a work day and you slept past all THREE of your alarms. But you know that feeling when you sleep for a suspiciously long amount of time and something doesn’t feel right? That’s the sixth sense that saved your ass this morning because your internal body clock was like sweetie I think you’re late. 

You only had time to slap on some makeup, hoping it looked semi decent, and throw your greasy hair into a messy, but passable bun because no one wants to see an ugly receptionist. You had to skip your morning Starbucks drive-through routine because you’re about to be LATE, late so you grab your keys and start your car, booking it to work.

You work at a private hybrid clinic which pays a little better than most but that means you also have to deal with a lot of attitude from rich “owners” (you hate that word). And you sat weirdly at work today so that did nOThing to help your back pain. Also how come everybody decided to book an appointment today?? It’s Friday for god's sake why does everyone and their mothers decide it’s time to call the clinic and book a checkup. They get so mad at you when you say this whole month is filled. You can’t change the schedule though?? The calendar’s filled lady either get over it and settle for next month or fuck off (of course you don’t say that out loud cause you’ll get fired). Also someone yelled at you today because they didn’t like the magazine choices in the waiting room.

Anyways your day sucked and you couldn’t be happier being back in your tiny apartment to binge watch netflix stand-up comedies until you collapse. Well you say it’s your apartment but you actually have a roommate. She’s nothing like you though, she’s the epitome of responsibility. You agreed to live with her even though you met her through Craigslist because once you met her in person you deemed her genuine enough, and also found out she’s hardly ever at the apartment but she still pays rent on time?! You really hit the jackpot with her honestly. Cause you can be a little bit messy sometimes but even when she is home she never complains. The only negative side of having her as a roommate is that you never really had time to bond with her cause she’s so busy and over your league that even after a year you two still aren’t anything more than friendly acquaintances.

Alright time to get out of your work clothes and into nothing but your favorite oversized t-shirt with no pants on because that is what you deem home-appropriate attire. But before you turn on netflix your tummy is making “feed me” noises so it’s time to check the fridge. Damn no leftovers. Time to crack open one of those Trader Joe’s frozen meals you have stacked in the freezer. You blindly pick a box. Guess you’re having vegan tikka masala tonight. Not gonna lie though those frozen meals are actually not half bad. Or maybe you’ve been away from good home cooking for so long you’ve become desensitized? Who cares, you’re hungry. Also it’s Friday, so no harm in cracking open a bottle of wine right?

When you’re all settled on the couch with your favorite plush blanket on your legs, a random comedian on tv, and a full tummy, your mind drifts away. It’s Saturday tomorrow and you have the weekends off. Maybe you should do something fun for yourself to make up for the crap you had to deal with today. You text your best friend Karli. You know she’s awake since it’s only 10pm.

You: Hey girl wanna go to the beach or smth tmrw?? <3

Karli: Yaaas ok I don’t work!! What time?

You: and we can walk around all the fancy stores and get coffee from that place we love.

You: hmmm how bout meet there @11??

Karli: Sounds good sweetie want me to pick you up?

You: no its ok ill meet u there i need to buy groceries after

Karli: Kk love ya see you then!!!

You: love ya! night bby

Karli knows that when you say “go to the beach” you really mean walk along the beach and the nearby stores because it’s early June and prime tourist season. That means the sand is packed with people and their kids and the water’s probably filled with pee so you’re not really down for that. Also the expensive shops near the beach are so cute and you love walking around window shopping, pretending like you can actually afford any of the items on display.

The wine is now getting to you cause before you know it you find your eyelids getting heavy. You muster up your last ounce of strength to turn off the tv and force yourself out of the couch cause your poor back doesn’t need another excuse to keep hurting. As much as you don’t want to wash your face and brush your teeth, you have to because you don’t want makeup on your pillowcase tonight. And when you finally crawl into bed you knock out instantly.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Oh fuck…”

You forgot that drunk you last night set an alarm today for 9am. Thank you drunk Y/N. 

Why 9am? Because you need to shower and get ready, plus the beach you’re going to is near the north part of the city, which is also the expensive part of the city, meaning it’s a LONG ways from where you live. But the stores are aesthetically pleasing and it contains both you and Karli’s favorite coffee shop so you’re willing to make the 25 minute drive. Karli doesn’t have to worry though because she lives a lot closer than you do. Girl has got her shit together. Honestly you’re just glad she decided to move back after graduate school cause the long distance friend thing sucks balls.

You hop in the shower and rinse yourself awake. The weather is perfect, warm but not too hot. Unlike many people who prefer to dress up for a nice outing, you’re just the opposite. You’ve been forced to dress in nice business attire with a full face of makeup all week. Hell no are you dressing up on your days off too. It’s a sweatpants and tank top kinda day so that’s exactly what you wear. Ever since college you’ve spoiled yourself into only wearing comfy clothes whenever you have the chance and it’s become a minor problem in your life. You have some perfectly nice jeans in the closet but you haven’t worn them in forever. And you’re not gonna wear them today either. And makeup? Who needs makeup? You’ll just go barefaced since you have no one to impress. Actually just kidding maybe a little concealer just to cover up a few rough spots but that’s IT. You’re still a little self conscious and you know you have to work on that but not today.

It’s now 10:15. You grab your purse from the couch, slip on your favorite pair of slides and head to your car. You’re the kind of person who absolutely needs music when you drive so you quickly start blasting your favorite playlist. Before you know it, you’re pulling up to the beach area. Parking is hard to find on the weekend but your lucky ass managed to squeeze into a street parking spot right as someone pulls out. You lock your car and make the trek to Cozy Coffeehouse, your favorite coffee shop hands down.

Karli is already here and she’s hopping up and down, waving at you. She looks super cute today in her little black dress and fishnets. She’s had the same taste since high school and you’re glad that even a Master’s degree hasn’t stopped her from dressing all punk on her days off. You jog over and give her a quick hug.

“Hey girl look at you!! You’re so cute!” You take in her makeup and you swear if she didn’t go the corporate route she definitely should have been a makeup artist. Her eyeshadow is amazing and you’ll never ever have the blending talent that she has, nor could you ever get your eyeliner to look that sharp.

“Aw thanks! You look comfy though I’m kinda jealous now maybe I should’ve dressed down.” 

“No I love your outfits! Besides, someone has to look nice in this relationship.”

You link arms and march into the cafe. It’s located near the fancy designer stores on a large hill overlooking the beach. When you step inside the whole atmosphere screams ‘cozy’, fitting its name perfectly. The interior is littered with mismatched sofas and armchairs but it somehow still looks aesthetically pleasing. Soft piano jazz is playing through speakers and when you step inside the delicious scent of freshly ground coffee beans immediately invades your nostrils.

You glance at their pastry display first. Today must be your lucky day because they have tiramisu and you absolutely love tiramisu but it’s usually sold out. No way in hell are you letting this chance slide, fuck breakfast norms you’re definitely getting a bite of that. Unfortunately you’re not a fan of sugary treats on top of sugary drinks so to balance things out you choose to order their house brew.

After you two order, you find a spot in one of the plush armchairs near the window and sit. You really are lucky today since window seats are usually taken. But not this time! You guys get to enjoy the gorgeous scenery displayed before you. The sun is bright, people are laying on the beach tanning, and kids are splashing each other with water. For the first time in awhile, you feel content with life, if only for a bit. 

Before long your orders are called out and you stand up to retrieve them. Once you’re settled, you break into conversation with Karli, eager to catch up on everything that happened since you two last spoke face-to-face. You talk about work, Karli’s boyfriend Sunny, that new pizza place that opened up near your apartment that actually has really shitty pizza.

“Like seriously how do you fuck up pizza that badly?” you exclaim in between generous bites of tiramisu.

“No I get you,” Karli responds, slurping her iced mocha frappuchino, “everybody knows what pizza is supposed to taste like, I mean it’s gotta take talent to actually fuck it up to the level you’re describing girl.”

“Exactly!!” You wave your arms in the air, wanting to physically demonstrate your frustration at the situation and your passion for good pizza.

“Anyways…” Karli gently sets her drink down and takes on a more serious tone. “How are you though, honestly.”

“Hmm, me?” You swallow your last bite of tiramisu, “I’m doing good. Works ok, life’s ok. You know. Everything’s… ok.”

“I get that everything’s ‘ok’ but you know I want you to be more than ok. I want you to be happy”

You see the genuine concern in her eyes. Bless this girl for being so soft-hearted.

She continues, “And when was the last time you dated? Like, what, 2 years ago??”

Of course she has to mention dating. Karli has always been a romantic. You? Not so much. Your brain tended to err on the logical, practical side, which is not always a good idea since it keeps you away from many potential relationships.

“I date!” You scoff, but you’re not convincing anybody, least of all yourself.

“Oh really?” Her eyes widen in mock surprise, “Tinder one night stands don’t count babe. You know what I mean.”

“Well you didn’t specify…” You mumble, trying to come up with any excuse to defend your pride. You know she’s just being a good friend and that she’s asking because she cares about you, so you don’t let her questions irritate you.

“Sweetie I’m not trying to make you feel bad and I’m sorry if it comes across that way. It’s just… you mean a lot to me and you’re my bestie and I just want to see you be happy.” She takes your hand from across the table and looks you in the eyes. “We don’t get to see each other as much as we used to, so when I do I want to check in on how you’re doing.”

Then she averts her eyes, which you find highly suspicious. “Also I may or may not have found someone who I KNOW will be a perfect match for you.”

“AHA I KNEW you were leading up to something!”

“Wait but hear me out. He’s an accountant and at first I was like hmmm is he too boring for Y/N? But then I realized I was judging him by his job and that’s not cool so I talked to him and he’s, like, actually super cute and super sweet and I think you two will get along so well!” She’s speaking very fast at this point, trying to squeeze out as much information as possible before you can interject. Then she finishes with one of her signature Karli smiles, big and wide and all teeth and she knows you can’t say no to that face.

“Dammit. Fine.” You lost this round. “Alright if he wants to meet up I won’t say no. How bout that?”

“Gee that’s so thoughtful of you Y/N.” Her tone is sarcastic but she’s still smiling so you know she means no harm.

After another half hour of conversation, locked in a heated debate about food again (this time she’s defending her stance that pineapple belongs on pizza), Karli’s phone rings. The sound scares the poor girl half to death, and watching her jump a mile from her couch had you snorting into your coffee mid drink.

She looks at the caller ID, muttering under her breath, “It’s Saturday what do they want?” then glances up with a sad little pout, “Sorry Y/N it’s work gimme a sec…”

From what you can hear on her side of the conversation, something has come up and she has to head to the office right away. 

“Ok I’ll be there in fifteen,” she hangs up and gives an exaggerated “Ughhhhh”. She takes one large gulp, finishing the last of her ultra sweet, ultra whipped frappuccino. “It’s like they can’t do anything when I’m not there.” She looks especially apologetic when her eyes land back on you, “I’m so sorry I have to cut this short…”

“Hey it’s ok! Duty calls ya know,” you give her a reassuring grin, hoping it passes for a smile instead of a grimace. You were really hoping to hang out today.

“No it’s not ok. We didn’t even get to walk around today! And I know how much you like to do that.” She stands up, slipping her purse onto her shoulder, “so next time I’ll plan a day where I guarantee I won’t get interrupted. It’s the least I can do.”

“Mk sounds good babe,” you give her a big hug, “Go get ‘em tiger!”

After she exits the cafe you finish the last bit of your coffee and glance out the window, staring at the people on the beach. Wow it’s really crowded down there today. You zone in on two kids attempting to build a sandcastle, but it’s too close to the water so the waves flatten it in two seconds. But it seems they didn’t learn their lesson because they keep rebuilding the castle in the same spot. Just move it further up little dudes.

You find yourself lost in thought again. Just because Karli’s suddenly busy doesn’t mean you don’t still have a whole day to yourself. You can walk around on your own. Also why not treat yourself to another drink? A fun one this time from their specials menu.

Ten minutes later you find yourself wandering around the various shops, hot hazelnut latte in hand, gazing at display after display of designer clothes and bags. Look, you may not be a huge fashion person, or have any expendable cash, but a girl can still appreciate art, especially when it’s laid out so nicely in front of you. 

Speaking of art, there’s an art gallery coming up that you absolutely love. You’ve always been too afraid to go inside because you’re the type of person who feels obligated to buy something if you enter a local store and you DEFinitely can’t afford anything there. So you opt to loiter outside, like some creep, looking a little too long at the featured art through the window. This time it’s an Impressionist style painting of a ship on hazy waters with a sunset in the background. You’re no artist but you can appreciate good quality work when you see it. The piece is mesmerizing and serene, transfixing you to the spot. Before you know it, you’ve been staring for 15 whole minutes.

While admiring the artist’s use of color on the display piece, you overhear a lady raising her voice not too far away, snapping you out of your trance. It sounds like drama, so being the nosy bitch that you are, you’re definitely gonna check it out, if only to satisfy your curiosity.

“What do you mean ‘no’?! You’ll be perfect for each other!! Where’s your owner I bet he’ll listen!” At this point the lady’s voice is sounding downright aggressive.

As you shuffle closer to the scene of the noise, you spot a middle-aged, blonde lady pointing her finger at two hybrid men, almost jabbing one of them in the chest with her sharp, ruby nails. Behind her stands a gorgeous female arctic fox hybrid who clearly belongs to her as she pats her owner’s shoulders, trying to calm her down.

“I’m sorry miss but we just aren’t interested.” The taller of the two hybrids with orange hair speaks up, gently pushing the lady’s hands away. “Please leave us alone.” He’s being surprisingly calm, even after getting yelled at in public.

“Yeah lady get out of our faces,” the other white and grey haired hybrid is definitely more agitated, crossing his arms as he huffs in annoyance. You don’t blame him since the blonde lady is being ridiculously rude.

You can’t really make out the two males’ faces, since they’re turned away from you, but they are obviously hybrids. Both having incredibly bushy, soft-looking tails and tall, pointy ears sticking out of their heads.

Even if you can’t see their expressions, you can tell they’re uncomfortable with the harassment. Since you’re still somewhat unaware of the context, you stay out of the argument but decide to keep an eye on the situation in case the lady steps out of line. You’re just slightly around the corner, able to stay a safe distance away so that no one, especially the lady, can catch you eavesdropping. Pretending to admire the Gucci purses displayed in front of the shop you’re now standing at, and almost choking at the price, you cautiously side-eye blondie as she refuses to back down from the hybrid boys.

“Listen here you rude little pets, I’m not leaving you alone until I see your owner. My Sylvia here,” she gestures to the fox hybrid behind her, “would make a perfect partner for you.” She pokes the orange haired hybrid again, “I’ve been searching so long for her to find a mate and I’m not giving you up! Now where the hell is your owner!”

What the fuck?! How dare this lady talk to them like that? And in public no less! You now know exactly why she’s yelling at them. Working at a private hybrid clinic has opened your eyes to the harsh world of hybrids, and their selfish, rich owners. It’s not uncommon for owners to negotiate with each other and breed their hybrids. If two pretty hybrids mate, their children can be sold for loads of money. It's cruel and disgusting, with many of the children sold off before they can even get to know their parents. You’re all too familiar with this tradition, often catching owners in the waiting room of your clinic discussing in whispers about buying and selling hybrid children as if they’re livestock.

“Hey what the fuck did you call us?!” The white and grey hybrid is now also raising his voice. “Listen you wrinkly bi…!” He is quickly silenced by the orange hybrid, who abruptly clamps his hand over his buddy’s mouth.

Orange hair clears his throat. “What he means is, we don’t appreciate the tone you’re using with us. Please leave us alone ma’am. We’ll be on our way. Goodbye.” They attempt to brush past her.

“Hey hold on a minute! I’m not done with you!!” This lady even has the balls to grab onto orange hair’s arm. “I demand to speak to your owner!” Then some sort of realization dawns upon her because her eyes go wide, then quickly narrow. “And where are your collars? Aren’t owned hybrids supposed to have collars on? You know I just might have to call Hybrid Services.” 

You can see the boys visibly tense at her words as she sports a satisfied smirk. Poor Sylvia is now gently tugging on her shirt. “Please calm down, miss…” she says desperately trying to remedy the situation.

Before you know it, and without any plan of action, you round the corner and march up to the boys, standing defensively in front of them.

“Um…” You gulp, then clear your throat, speaking in what you hope is a more confident tone. “Sorry I took so long guys! You wouldn’t believe the line at the coffee shop!”

Next

[hazbincalifornia]

Amount of writing I’m getting done for OT and my IZ fic: Some.

Amount of writing I’m getting done for self-indulgent bullshit: Somewhat more.

Anyway, wrote out Bella meeting Sir Pentious because I was bit by the muse bug. This is written for the four people who know who they both are, f.

Wordcount: 2075

The second she saw the airship soaring through the red-tinted sky, shooting anything that looked at it funny, Bella knew she had to get inside of it. Let Kit flirt with their host (or, if she was honest, fail to flirt with, man, she didn’t even like flirting and even she knew that he turned into a pile of goopy mush when he was around a guy he thought was cute) and let Vee attempt to kidnap yet another animal to try and smuggle home, she wanted to find out who the heck made a steam-powered airship in the twenty-first century.

Or maybe Hell was actually stuck in the year 1900, who knew? Time probably passed funny in the afterlife, but the fact that nobody had shot them out of the sky yet said that there was something else afoot- the pilot had to have some way of warding off attacks considering rivals probably had, like, grenade launchers, and she wanted to find out how. Style merged with substance, ruling the air with confidence- and she wanted in. 

“Hey! Hey you!” She flagged down somebody with four arms and purple fur who looked short enough to be less likely to punt her into orbit- Mom had warned that most people down here were mean as, well, Hell- and pointed up at the ship. “What’s the deal with those?”

“You a newly dead?” The demon raised one of their four eyes, and Bella nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, newly dead. Anyway. Story?”

“They’re made by Sir Pentious, one of the Overlords. He’s some kinda inventor, I’unno. Never blew up anything that mattered to me, so I never cared that much.”

“Sir Pentious…” She rolled the name around in her mouth, plucking the ‘T’ in the middle thoughtfully along with the rubber bands wrapped around her braces. “Got it. Thanks!”

“Er- you’re welcome.” They darted off, but that was fine. Now it was just a matter of actually getting onboard.

____________

She couldn’t find a rocket pack anywhere- lousy Hell lagging behind Earth technologically- but ended up stumbling across the next best thing in a warehouse that had an extra ship that had clearly been in some sort of accident. This one was only partially-reassembled, and there was a lot of burn damage sustained to the aluminum and copper outside, but that just meant that she could see the skeleton without having to slice through a lot of layers, so it was almost better- and a lot easier to crawl in one of the big holes in the front window via a pile of parts in front of it.

The interior was decorated like a mansion, with vivid yellows, reds, and blacks- she could respect the commitment to the aesthetic, especially with torn-open snakesheds and red eyeballs plastered everywhere. It looked like something out of Mom’s old comic book collection, toxic and yet intoxicating, every detail chosen for maximum dramatic potential. It must look even better with all the lights on and more than her phone’s flashlight illuminating bits at a time.

It was the best playground that she could imagine- nothing but her and a massive ship the size of an apartment building. Oddly enough, there wasn’t much dust- maybe it had crashed recently and was being held here for repairs? It was certainly of a similar design to the one that she’d seen from the ground, so she couldn’t imagine that it wasn’t just an iteration or two away.

Her fingers ran over the sleek machinery like it was sacred- some of it looked like it belonged in a museum, but the rest was cutting edge, and the seamless way they blended was like something out of a dream. A genius indeed- if she’d been born a hundred years ago and was suddenly thrust into the modern day, she could only hope that her tech would look this good. There was room for improvement of course, there always was, but it was loads better than most of what she saw digging through the junkyard, and a lot closer to the stuff she made with Grandpa Zim using his irken tech. Impressive for someone who’d clearly been dead for some time, considering he’d made enough of a name for himself that some rando off the street knew it.

“Genius inventor, huh…?” Bella pulled out her screwdriver, starting to work on freeing the control panel. It had a touchscreen and levers, what was that about? She had to know what it looked like underneath- did Hell even use cables and wires or was she going to need to drag Kit in to do his magic business here?

It took some doing- whatever had taken this particular ship down had welded the panel into place and it took a crowbar to pry off, ha, take that Venus for saying she ‘didn’t need to bring it’- but eventually she got into the guts of the thing. Sure enough, it was wiring, spiraled all into itself in a knot- it must have gotten all messed up at some point, maybe that was what caused the crash on top of whatever burnt the outside? 

She was about to start taking it apart when she heard a pitter-patter behind her.

“I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it, ya know,” she said, rummaging around in her pocket before pulling it out. “Mom insisted I bring the one that can vaporize people since apparently half of you can’t even die the normal way anyway? Bunch of freaks.” Her finger twitched towards the trigger as the pitter-patter became a shadow as the thing scrambled up towards the same hole she’d come in. “I’m warning you, I’m a great shot. Won’t take two to blow your brains out.”

“Whoever you are, bossman says you gotta go!” 

It was an egg. Not like some kind of insult, it was literally an egg, and probably a third of her size. It was also wearing a little hand-tailored suit and top hat. She stared down at it, and it stared up at her. 

“Who’s bossman?” Bella asked after a few very long seconds of silence.

“You know… bossman!” It blinked. “He doesn’t like people pokin’ around his cool, cool stuff and you tripped the motion sensor. Hey, is that a ray gun?”

Bella’s finger eased off the trigger. “Yeah, it is. It can probably scramble you.”

“Oooh! Fun! Not as good as boss’s, I’m sure, but-”

“Hey, what say you take me to this boss?” Bella crouched down, knowing this was incredibly stupid but also already entirely committed to it. “Then he can decide what to do with me in person.”

“Hmm… alright, but no funny business!” The egg looked her up and down before turning heel, starting to clamor down the pile of parts. She had to hold back a snort when she saw that it had ‘#69’ written on its back.

Some things never changed no matter where you went.

____________

The egg blabbered on all the way back to the ship, mostly about jazz music oddly enough, but soon enough they were nearing a different ship that had settled behind a building. It was either the one she’d seen before or a duplicate, and she felt a shiver run up her spine as she got close- it looked a lot cooler in one piece and lit up bright yellow. Her phone buzzed, and she discreetly pulled it out as the egg launched into a diatribe on the importance of the saxophone. It was a text from her sister. 

dolittle 🐭: bells where ARE you

dolittle 🐭: kits distracting clove so I could grab one of those bugdog things but moms gonna be asking how were doing soon, what should I say

Bella thought for a moment before sending back a reply. ‘im checking out that airship we saw earlier. have weapons. ill be fine. meet you back at the cafe later’

dolittle 🐭: be careful ok? know you can handle it but still

Bella smiled a little at that, sending a thumbs up before tucking her phone back into her pocket as they ascended the bridge.

“And then, then he saysss to me, he sayssss- Ah, there you are! Good, good.” She heard him before she saw him, voice booming as he welcomed his hench-egg back. “And what was poking around the warehouse?”

“This, boss!” The egg tugged at her jeans by the knee around the corner before pushing her forward with surprising force. “They said they wanted to see you!”

“Well well well!” 

Bella’s antennae twitched as her eyes widened. The man in front of her was a jet black snake, with fangs, a top hat, a bowtie, and eyes on his face as well as nestled on the open space on his chest and hood. Best she could pin from Venus’s nature lectures he was a cobra of some sort, and there was a smug fang-y grin on his face as he slithered up to her, taking advantage of the height that his tail gave him- he’d probably be seven feet easy to Bella’s mere five foot one. 

It took her only a moment to shake off her awe. “So you’re the famous Sir Pentious!”

His grin widened. “Ah! You’ve heard of me, little tresssspassser?” 

“Obviously, considering I knew your name, right?”

“Er- yes!” He faltered for just a moment, and she went in for the kill.

“Your work’s fantastic, but you really need a way to keep the gutty stuff in order in case of a hit- that’s probably part of why that other ship went down, y’know? But your sense of design and how you mold your century-old designs with the new stuff- it’s fantastic, I just want to cut it all open and see how it works.”

“What did you do?” His hood flared, and she twirled the gun in her hands.

“I only touched the control panel, and your little egg boy got at me before I messed with anything, but I’d give anything for a couple of days working on the interior of this place- I bet I could make it run faster and with less fuel.”

The eye on his hat rolled itself as he narrowed the eyes on his face. “Who are you to come in and think you know better than I about my own shipssss? I should end you right here for your insolence and your trespassing!”

Bella folded her arms, glancing around. “Hmm… far left column, the one with a yellow eye instead of a red one.”

“What about it?” He folded his arms as well, waggling his head. “Are you-”

“It’s welded weird. Something went wrong with the metal when it was being forged, so you put it in the back so you wouldn’t have to look at it. You didn’t want to waste a perfectly good column because somebody screwed up one little part. And that’s just what I see looking around in, like, five seconds- gah!” The end of his tail had wrapped around behind her while she’d been talking, and struck before she finished her sentence, lifting her up to his eye-level with her arms pinned to her sides.

“Little wrench! How dare you?” 

“I’m…” Her legs kicked a little, ribs feeling uncomfortably bendy at the moment as his scales pressed against her chest and back. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

His tongue darted out as he hissed, just barely brushing her nose before sliding back into his mouth.

“What do you really want, missy? I don’t like competition, you know.”

“You to let me breathe, for one,” she wheezed, fingers turning to try tickling what she could reach, and his cheek twitched funny before she dropped bodily to the floor, only managing to roll in time thanks to muscle memory from combat training. Thanks, Grandpas. “I really do just wanna see how all your stuff works. The ways I could improve my own inventions if I just could figure out how to blend different functionalities the way that you do...”

“I am quite impresssssive, aren’t I?” He puffed up his chest a bit. “And you have no intention to-”

Bella drew an X over her chest. “Cross my heart. You’re the bossman.”

He looked her up and down. “Hmm. Get back to me when you have a proper uniform and not those ragssss, and I suppose I could show you around a bit, if- if!- you show me something of yourssss.  ”

Bella’s grin slipped into a smirk as she gave a bow. “Bella Donna at your service, then, Sir Penny.”

[inyournightmares97]

All I Want For Christmas Is: Money [Bambam]

Bambam is running the Christmas Raffle for “charity”, but you’re not convinced of his motives. Can someone as selfish as him ever understand the true spirit of Christmas? 

Word Count: 5k

Part of : All I Want For Christmas Is: A GOT7 Collab

One Month Ago

“You know what I love most about Christmas?”

Yugyeom raised an eyebrow. He and Bambam were sitting in a cozy little coffee shop, drinking sugary mugs of hot chocolate to ward off the cold. Christmas decorations filled nearby stores and the holiday season was seeping into the atmosphere. 

“Presents?” Yugyeom guessed. “I’m assuming you like the presents.”

Bambam made a face. “No, man. Let’s be real. People are shit at giving Christmas presents. I think the last time I got a present I actually wanted was when I was ten years old.”

“I bought you a designer jacket last year.”

“Which I loved.”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes. He knew when Bambam was being insincere and he had ceased to care. “Sure you did. You loved it so much that you never wore it. Anyway, I’ll bite. What do you love most about Christmas?”

Bambam grinned. “The spirit of giving.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I mean, not exactly the fact that I have to give,” Bambam clarified quickly. “But that everyone else is in a giving mood. People save up for Christmas-time. Workplaces give holiday bonuses. Wallets are full and purse-strings are loose, Yugyeom. Do you know what that means?”

Yugyeom took a sip of his hot chocolate. “Tell me.”

“When everyone wants to give, there needs to be somebody to take. And I selflessly volunteer to be that person. I intend to be the lucky recipient of all the goodwill that fills people’s hearts during this fine holiday season.”

“How?”

Bambam leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. “Where do people go to spend time and money during Christmas?”

“The White Miracle Market.”

“And what’s the best way to convince people to part with their money without promising anything in return?”

“... I don’t know.”

Bambam held up two fingers. “Number one, charity. Number two, the lottery. These are the ways you convince people to hand over cold, hard cash for nothing in exchange. It requires no investment but I will rake in the profits. Get ready, Yugyeom. I’m going to be rich by the end of Christmas; season of giving be damned.”

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

Present Day

You had a knack for sniffing out bullshit. 

The White Miracle Market was a beautiful place to be during Christmas-time. The enormous Christmas tree, the twinkling lights, the creative stalls and shops and little eateries filled it's visitors with warmth and the true spirit of the holiday season. The streets echoed with laughter, pleasant chatter and screams of delight. 

So why did that clumsy-looking raffle ticket counter give you bad vibes? 

“Let’s go get some chocolate!” your friend suggested. “I heard that there are some awesome homemade chocolate stalls around the corner.”

“Just a second,” you insisted as you made a beeline for the raffle ticket counter. Your friend followed you, confused when  you stopped a few feet away from the counter and squinted at it. The big colorful sign above the stall was handwritten. Standing behind the counter was a painfully familiar face. 

Bambam. 

“Hey. Isn’t that Bambam?” your friend asked with a giggle. “That guy you went on a date with that one time who stuck you with his bill?”

You flinched. There could not be a more unpleasant memory to recollect during the lovely holiday season. You had gone on exactly one date with Bambam; arguably the worst date of your life. The handsome young man had picked you up in his fancy car, driven you to one of the most expensive restaurants in town and nearly charmed your pants off with his smooth talk while he ordered all the priciest things on the menu. 

And then he’d had the gall to ask you to pay half the bill. 

It wasn’t the splitting of the bill that you had a problem with. You would have offered to share the cost even if he hadn’t asked. The problem was that Bambam had ordered three extra servings of the most expensive seafood dish on the menu, and two glass of the most expensive wine, while you’d had a salad and a coke. 

His food had cost four times more than yours but he wanted to split the bill in half. 

For shame. 

Understandably, you’d politely turned down his offer of a second date and then ghosted him afterwards. Part of you wondered if he’d only asked Jackson to set the two of you up because you worked as a veterinary doctor and presumably earned a lot of money. 

So what if Bambam was devastatingly handsome and tall and looked like a male supermodel? 

He was a gold-digger. 

“What is he doing here?” you grumbled. 

Bambam was wearing a dark maroon Christmas sweater that hung off his slim frame and telling some wide-eyed kids about all the cool prizes they could win if they bought a raffle ticket. It seemed extremely unnatural for the man. He looked like a sleazy addition to the colorful, fun environment. 

“Selling raffle tickets?” your friend asked with a chuckle. 

“That’s weird.”

“Why is it weird? Lots of people organize events at the White Miracle Market. I set up a stall to sell handmade scarves last year, remember? Maybe Bambam wanted to organize the raffle. It’s probably for charity.”

You laughed. “Charity? Bambam? I’m not buying it.”

“Why not?”

“It just doesn’t suit his image, okay?”

“You mean it doesn’t suit the image you have of him,” she corrected. “Which, to be fair, is based on only one date that didn’t go very well. You can’t judge his personality based on that. Maybe he’s really a nice person and you caught him on a bad day? Now come on. I want chocolates and I’m not willing to wait!”

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

“What can I offer you ladies? A sweet, sugary delicacy? Or perhaps-something more dark and sinful?”

Your friend giggled. Jackson Wang was charming and flirtatious when it suited him. He had a cheerful smile on his face, but you couldn’t concentrate on the festive-shaped chocolates he was showing your friend. 

“What’s Bambam up to?” you demanded abruptly. 

Jackson blinked. “Sorry?”

“Your friend Bambam. He can’t be serious about that raffle ticket stall, right?” 

“Oh now you’re curious about him?” Jackson raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest with a smug smirk. “Sorry, darling, no can do. You can’t come around here and suddenly show interest after ghosting him. You had your chance.”

You flushed. “I’m not interested in Bambam.”

“Then why are you worried about his raffle?”

“I just-well-”

“If it’s really the raffle you’re curious about, go ask him yourself,”  Jackson told you. 

“Maybe I will.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!” you stormed away, barely listening to Jackson calling for you to buy a chocolate first and help him make some money. 

You couldn’t be mistaken about Bambam. It simply wasn’t possible. 

He was a greedy, selfish, conniving little brat and you would prove it no matter what.  

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

Bambam’s dark eyes widened in surprise when he recognized you. You reminded yourself miserably that whatever else the man lacked, he was undeniably handsome. His Christmas-themed sweater was as stylish as it could get, his long legs cushioned in expensive jeans and a silver watch adorned his wrist. Bambam was…

Classy. 

“Hi,” you greeted him. 

“Hey,” he responded with a sheepish smile. The curve of Bambam’s lips was almost shy; uncharacteristic for a man that was shameless enough to dump more than your share of an expensive bill on you. Looks could be deceiving. “I didn’t expect to see you around here. Are you here to check out the market?” he asked. 

“Evidently,” you replied coldly. 

“Oh. Nice.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Selling raffle tickets,” Bambam informed you cheerfully. He pointed to the board behind him that listed out all the prizes in bubbly red and green font. “First place wins a flat screen TV, second wins a new laptop and third an iphone. The next four people win gift hampers. What do you say? Want to try your luck? The proceeds go to charity!”

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“Charity,” you repeated.

“Sure.”

“Which charity?”

“It’s… a charity for abused animals.”

 “Fascinating. Tell me more.”

“Uh…” Bambam laughed awkwardly but he was saved from having to answer your question by a pair of 7-year old girls that interrupted you. One of them was dragging another by the hand and she pushed past you to the front of the counter. 

“Can you show us the picture of the cat again?” the girl asked Bambam with a pout. “My friend wants to see them.”

“Uh-sure, kids-”

Bambam pulled out his cellphone and handed it to the girls. The other girl gasped as soon as she saw the picture; her hands went to cover her mouth in horror. “Oh no! It looks so thin and starved! What happened to all its hair?”

“The raffle ticket man told me some evil people pulled out her hair before she was rescued! We have to buy raffle tickets so that they can save the poor cats from those evil people!” the other girl insisted. You watched in disbelief as the two girls gave Bambam his phone back, along with fistfuls of coins to pay for their raffle tickets.  

You waited until the kids left before you stared at Bambam. 

“That’s a sphynx cat. It’s not supposed to have any hair,” you stated. 

Bambam laughed awkwardly. “I mean, yeah, but you know kids. They have wild imaginations, and who are we to reign in their creativity, huh?” Bambam noticed the unimpressed look on your face and his smile dropped. “I know how this looks, and I’ll admit the cat was a white lie. But the raffle is really for charity! And you might win something!”

“I highly doubt that,” you replied dryly. 

“But-”

“Because not only is that a sphynx cat, it’s your sphynx cat. Or did you forget that you showed me pictures of all your cats on our first date?”

Bambam bit his plump lips and sighed, shoulders slumping. He was painfully reminded that your first date had been your last date. 

And not by his choice. 

“Yeah, most girls are impressed by cute pets. I guess you’re used to them since you’re a vet? Or are you just not a fan of men who have cats?”

“I’m not a fan of men who take money from little girls on false pretences,” you quipped. 

“But-”

“Hou can be better than this, Bambam. I hope someday you realize that money isn’t everything and there are more precious things in the world.”

Bambam was silent for a moment before he gave you a soft, sad smile. 

“Me too.”

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

Bambam wasn’t sure why he found you so alluring. 

Maybe it was your no-nonsense attitude and the way you never seemed to take any bullshit from anyone. Maybe it was that you were really kind and beautiful and you had this aura about you, one that had captivated him from the very first time he heard you speak. 

Bambam had the biggest fucking crush on you. 

But it didn’t matter, because he’d already had his chance and blew it. 

“I just don’t get it,” he complained miserably. “Most women love me. I’m handsome and charming. How was she so put off by me on our first date?”

Jinyoung sighed. “Come on, man.”

“What? I genuinely don’t understand.”

“Let me put it this way.” Jinyoung reached into his pocket and pulled out an expired ticket, along with a pen. He flipped the ticket over and drew a line on it. “This line is the group of women that are interested in you. And this line right underneath is the group of women that you’re interested in.”

Bambam blinked at the two lines. 

“I don’t get it.”

“They’re parallel lines, Bambam. They never meet.”

“So?”

“So you’re fucked,” Jinyoung replied simply. “Now go away.”

Bambam walked through the market miserably. His raffle ticket stall was doing great and he should have been delighted at the amount of money he was raking in. A little lack of ethics went a long way. 

But he felt uncomfortable. Not because he was doing something wrong, but because of that weird, queasy feeling that you thought less of him. 

Maybe Jinyoung was right. Maybe he was shooting for women that would never like him. 

Women like you weren't easily impressed. 

“Do you want to come play with our kittens?” a small voice asked. 

Bambam stopped in his tracks, realizing he had nearly run over a young boy that was looking at him hopefully. The kid was wearing a vest with a paw print on it and Bambam couldn’t resist the urge to follow the boy over to a stall where a number of little kittens were running around in a small play pen. 

“Wow,” he mumbled. 

“You can play with them!” the kid prompted. 

Bambam chuckled, bending over to reach into the pen as a pair of soft grey kittens instantly leapt onto his hand and tried to nibble on his fingers. They were adorable and fluffy and squishy. 

"Fuck, you guys are adorable," Bambam mumbled. 

"Will you donate to our animal shelter?" the kid asked hopefully. 

Bambam hesitated, one kitten still nibbling harmlessly on his finger. "Uh… I'm sorry, kid. I don't really have any money on me right now."

The kid nodded sadly.. "That's okay. We're just trying to take care of the kittens because we're not sure if we can find them new homes by Christmas and nobody wants to adopt them right now."

"Really?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, damn."

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

Less than four hours after you'd first spotted the raffle ticket stall, you came across Bambam once more. 

He was sitting gloomily on the curb with a box of kittens in his lap. 

You wanted, so badly, to just simply past this man without stopping to ask him what he was doing, but your curiosity wouldn't let you do that. Despite not particularly liking Bambam, you had to admit that he was one of the most unpredictable and unique people that you’d ever met. 

Ah, fuck. 

You just had to ask. 

“What are you doing with those?” you asked. 

Bambam looked up at you, eyes wide and plump lips falling open for a moment. Then he collected himself and cleared his throat. “These?” he asked, gesturing towards the kittens. 

“Yes, those.”

“I… may have adopted them?”

You stared at him. He didn’t offer any more information and you started to wonder if perhaps Bambam was really all right in the head. You took a deep breath and decided that your curiosity was unhealthy. Why did you care so much about the weird guy you’d been on a date with one time? You needed to find something else to think about. 

“I see. Cool,” you replied before walking away. 

You would leave Bambam to his eccentric exploits.

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

Except the curiosity was insatiable. 

You went back to the market the next day to get some presents for your nieces and nephews and inevitably, the path to the wooden toy-shop required you to walk past Bambam’s raffle stall. 

It was closed. 

Why was it closed? It was a Sunday, shouldn’t Bambam know that Sundays were the days when most people came to the market? It was also a great day for his target audience- gullible and helpless little kids who were either convinced they would win an iphone or thought they were rescuing the helpless cats. 

But Bambam wasn’t there. 

“So, uh… how come the raffle stall is closed?” you asked Jaebum casually. He was extremely busy working on something that looked like a dollhouse and he barely looked up at you. The man was the exact opposite of Bambam, you noted. Passionate and dedicated to his craft. 

“The raffle stall?” Jaebum asked absent-mindedly. “No clue. Why?”

You bit your lip. “No reason.”

He finally tore his eyes away from the dollhouse and turned to you with a more friendly smile. “Hey, so I think I’m going to need until tomorrow to complete your order. There’s still some finishing touches that I need to give the toys although I can show you what they look like so far-”

“That’s okay,” you reassured him. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Great, thanks.”

You left the wooden toy-shop and strolled down the market street, looking at all the pretty shops and stalls that were bursting with life during the winter season. 

And then there was the clumsy, deserted raffle ticket stall. 

A small group of kids walked up to the stall, noticed that it was shut and sadly walked away. You frowned. 

Where was Bambam? 

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

He didn’t turn up the next day, either. 

The raffle ticket stall was conspicuously shut while you went to buy some chocolates from Jackson and some pretty handmade Christmas cards for your family and friends. By the time you finally reached the wooden toy stall to pick up the toys you had ordered, you couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“Where is Bambam?” you demanded as Jaebum packed up your toys for you. 

Jaebum blinked. “I don’t know. Maybe you can ask Yugyeom.”

“Is he here?”

“Sure. Hold on. Yugyeom! Come out here for a second!” Jaebum yelled. A tall, broad-shouldered young man emerged from the back with a friendly smile. “Do you know where Bambam is? People have been wondering why his raffle ticket stall is shut.”

Yugyeom blinked. “Oh, him? He’s too busy with the kittens.”

“Kittens?” you demanded. 

“Yeah. He adopted them from the shelter but it turns out that they were sick. All of them. He’s been running over to the veterinary center at the hospital for the last two days. I guess they don’t have many vets on duty since it’s the holiday season so he keeps making appointments to meet different doctors.”

“Oh.”

“It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have adopted a whole litter of kittens at once. But what can you do? Bambam’s not the type to give up on anyone.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You mean he has redeeming qualities too?”

Yugyeom folded his arms across his chest and frowned at you. “Look. I’m only telling you this because he likes you. Bambam had a difficult childhood growing up and maybe life taught him to love money more than his pride. But he also knows what it’s like to suffer. Bambam always helps people in distress, and he never gives up on them.”

Your throat felt dry. “Oh.”

He grabbed the bag with the toys you had ordered and handed them to you. “Will you be needing anything else?”

“Uh, no.”

“Great. Thanks for your business. Merry Christmas.”

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

You walked into the hospital the next day to see one of the receptionists waiting for you nervously. 

“Oh great, you’re here!” she greeted. 

You blinked. “Is everything okay?”

“This guy brought in a box of kittens. They’re suffering from a genetic disease and they’re not likely to live long; we’ve already had two other doctors look at them but he keeps asking to see a different doctor every day because he doesn’t believe them. I told him that you’re the best we have and that if you couldn’t do something then nobody could. Can you take a look at them?”

You bit your lip. “A box of kittens, you say?”

“Yeah.”

That sounded familiar. 

“... Send him in.”

You were not surprised when five minutes later, Bambam entered your office with a small carrier full of grey, fluffy kittens. He looked both surprised and relieved to see you. He plopped down into the chair opposite your desk and gave you a sheepish smile. 

“Hi,” he greeted. “I thought the next vet they sent me to would be you. Apparently you’re the best.”

“I’m pretty sure my colleagues’ diagnosis was accurate, Bambam.”

“No, don’t say that!” he insisted desperately. “I’m sure there’s something that can be done. It’s okay. I don’t care how much money it costs. I just couldn’t stand it if anything happened to these kittens. I took responsibility for these little guys when I adopted them and I’m going to see it through to the end.”

You sighed. 

“I hear blood tests and scans were done? Let me pull up the reports.”

“Okay.”

You pulled up the reports on your computer and instantly noticed the problem. It was evident from the reports that the entire litter of kittens suffered from a genetic illness; one that veterinary sciences had yet to find a cure for and one that would ensure that these kittens lived a short and painful life. Your face fell and consequently, so did Bambam’s. 

“Bambam….”

“Please don’t say there’s nothing you can do,” he pleaded. 

You couldn’t help it. You felt bad for him. The man had clearly formed an attachment to these kittens and he was clutching the carrier tightly as he looked at you with wide, horrified eyes. You hadn’t imagined that the cool, classy and suave Bambam would have such a soft corner for such a helpless group of kittens. 

“Bambam, I’m sorry. I think all we can do is make it so they don’t go through any pain.”

“Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well that’s a shitty-ass way to start the holiday season, isn’t it? Isn’t there some treatment? Surgery or something? It’s okay even if it costs a lot-”

“It’s not something you can solve with money, Bambam. Veterinary science hasn’t found a cure for genetic diseases like this yet. You could put them in some kind of experimental treatment but it would only prolong the pain and the chances of finding a cure are next to nothing.”

Bambam blinked at you. “Right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault. I’m an idiot for thinking I could help them, I just…” his eyes were shining with the hint of tears and he cleared his throat. “I guess I don’t know what I would have done with them even if they had been healthy. I don’t have enough room at home for eight more cats. I just didn’t think they should be alone at the shelter over Christmas.”

“That’s… kind of you.”

“Nah, it’s hypocritical of me, maybe I just wanted to feel like I was doing something good to make up for all the shit I do.”

You bit your lip. “Hmm.”

“So can I just…” he cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. “I’m sure the hospital has ways to um… I don’t think I could do it myself, you know?”

“How about you keep them with you over Christmas?”

Bambam blinked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You can give them a warm home and keep them comfortable for the holidays. And then afterwards you can drop them off at the hospital and um, we’ll find a way to make it painless for them. I promise,” you suggested. 

“Okay. That… that sounds nice.”

“Great.”

“Thanks for your help,” he muttered. He stood up to leave, picking up the carrier full of mewling kittens and walking towards the door. Your throat felt tight as you watched him walk away and you couldn’t control yourself from calling. 

“Bambam?”

He turned. “Yeah?”

“Are you going to re-open the raffle ticket stall?”

His lips curled into a pained smile. “Ah. That. I don’t know if I can. I spent all the money I made so far on the medical tests and scans for these little guys. I don’t think I can afford to keep it running. I’ll have to find some way to make some money and refund people who bought tickets.”

You sighed and folded your arms across your chest. “I’ll get the hospital to waive the fees for you on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You reopen the raffle ticket stall. And this time you really give your proceeds to an animal abuse charity, instead of conning people into thinking that you will.”

Bambam bit his lip and then gave you a small smile. “Yeah, okay.”

You smiled back. “Great.”

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

Christmas Eve

It was late evening when you walked past the stalls at the Christmas Market. Being a vet, you’d had to work through most of the holidays but you’d managed to escape early just on Christmas Eve in time to make it to the market before it closed. 

Bambam was just closing up. 

“Hey,” you greeted him lightly. “Am I too late to buy some raffle tickets?”

Bambam’s eyes widened cheerfully when he saw you, and he waved a gloved hand in greeting. His neck was cushioned in a fancy scarf. 

“Hi! I didn’t expect to see you here! Of course you can buy some raffle tickets. How many do you want?” he asked. 

You shrugged. “Ten?”

“That’s a lot,” he smiled and reached down to rip the tickets out of his little book. “You sure you want to spend that much money here?”

“It’s for a good cause.”

“I guess it is,” he mused as he handed you a bunch of tickets and you gave him the cash in return.  “You made it just in time. I was about to close up and go home to the kittens. They’ve become incredibly naughty. I don’t know how I’m going to let go of them.”

You smiled sadly. “Don’t get too attached.”

“I know,” he muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s okay. I think I’m coming to terms with it. Sometimes that’s how life is. The innocent are the ones to get hurt. But I’m glad I could give them a warm home for the holidays.”

“I’m glad too.”

Bambam nodded before he turned the lights off and closed the shutter of his stall. The street was emptying out; most people were headed towards the huge Christmas tree and the dazzling lights but you’d had a long day and planned to go home. You walked towards the exit with Bambam. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bambam asked hesitantly. 

“Sure.”

“I know… you dodn’t want to go out with me again after that first time,” Bambam explained with a nervous smile. “And that’s fine! I mean, that’s totally your choice. But… can I ask  what went wrong during that date? Did we just not click? Did you not enjoy yourself? Or did I say something to upset you?”

You stared at him. “No. I had a great time during the date. It was a lot of fun.”

“Then what was it?”

“You mean you don’t know?” 

He shook his head innocently. “I’ve been wondering what could have gone wrong but to be honest, I tried my best to make sure you enjoyed yourself. I figured you just didn’t like me.” 

“Bambam. You made me pay for way more than my fair share of the meal. It was a really dick move to pull considering that we were at a really expensive restaurant. If I had known I would be paying for your food too, I would have chosen a cheaper place. The fact that you so coolly asked me to pay was a huge red flag!” 

Bambam blinked at you in confusion. “What? But Jackson told me to!” 

“Jackson?” 

“I was going to pay for the date myself. But Jackson texted me right before the bill came saying that independent women like you were probably feminists and that I should treat you like an equal and that ask to split the bill in half so that you didn’t feel awkward about me paying.” 

You stared at him. “Bambam.” 

“What?”

“That’s a nice thought, but you ordered all the most expensive things on the menu and I had a salad and coke. Don’t you think going halfsies wasn’t a fair split?” 

His cheeks flushed red and he quickly averted his eyes from you. “Okay, yeah. I see it now. I swear it didn’t even occur to me then. I was just following Jackson’s suggestions.”

“Jackson didn’t know what we ordered.” 

“I guess not.” 

“So you weren’t a gold-digger. You were just an idiot.” 

Bambam chuckled awkwardly. “There’s a statement I can’t dispute. I was nervous about messing it up. I really liked you. I still do, I mean. Really like you. But I understand why you’re not interested in me so I won’t push it.” 

You sighed and shoved your hands in your pockets. You couldn’t deny that you had seen a different side to Bambam. A more endearing and innocent side. A side that maybe, just maybe, made up for his faux pas at the restaurant and his failure of an attempt to defraud the general public by misappropriating the proceeds of his  raffle tickets. 

“Do you have any plans tonight?” you asked him. 

“Nope. Just going home to watch the cats.” 

“Can we pick up a bottle of wine and watch the cats together?” you suggested lightly. “It’s Christmas Eve and I don’t have anywhere else to be either.”

Bambam grinned. “Yeah. We could do that.” 

“Then let’s do it.” 

Bambam’s dark eyes were fixed on you as you both continued to walk, and you found your heart fluttering a little. He was a sweet guy; perhaps a little stupid, and perhaps his moral compass was a few degrees off, but deep down you had the feeling that Bambam was a nice guy. 

“Hey,” he suddenly said with a grin. “How about this? How about I give the charity the exact amount of money you waived from the hospital fee, and keep the rest?”

“How about you keep nothing?” you retorted. 

Bambam’s smile fell. “Ok, that’s an issue.”

“Why is that an issue?”

“I don’t have enough money to buy a nice bottle of wine.”

You sighed and resisted the urge to smack yourself in the forehead. “Fine. I’ll buy the fucking bottle of wine.”

Bambam pouted. “You don’t have to get mad, it was only an idea-”

“Here’s an idea. How about once we get to your apartment, we talk about finding you a nice, honest job that you can work at to make money?” you asked. 

“Doesn’t sound like much fun,” he pointed out. 

“What does sound like fun?”

“Being rich.”

You sighed. Maybe it would take some time getting used to Bambam. 

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

[slashhinginghasher]

Social Engagement for Misanthropes: Jesse Cromeans x Marena Polunochnaya

Jesse Cromeans cleaned up nice, and he damn well knew it. It was one of the first skills he’d cultivated after leaving his shithole hometown. One of the best ways to get money, he’d found, was to look like you already had it. The looks he got from women (and some men) were a welcome (some would say unnecessary) boost to his ego, and a sharp suit could always be counted on to draw the piggies out of their pens. The first few times he’d worn designer had felt strange, like a kid playing make-believe, though after a while it became as natural as breathing.

Now, as he stood in front of the mirror in his walk-in closet and fiddled with a tie he hadn’t touched in over three years, he felt a bit like that broke, backwater kid again.

He didn’t particularly want to attend this event, but it was, unfortunately, somewhat necessary. Spann had called it “proof of life” when she handed him the invitation, an actual, physical piece of paper that had been calligraphed and embossed within an inch of its life. It contained phrases like “humble gathering” and “the pleasure of your company” and had, apparently, been mailed with an honest-to-god wax seal.

Pretentious prick.

Jesse had been to his fair share of “humble gatherings”; you couldn’t conduct real business without them. They were mind-crushingly boring affairs, a slow-moving social dance of caviar, expensive booze, and pathetic attempts at wit. If nothing else, the people-watching was usually interesting. For all their “good breeding”, wealthy families could be far more dysfunctional than the most slovenly of small town homes. Upper class socialites didn’t blink at multi-million dollar checks, but flash a bit of ink and they’d fall over themselves to choke on his cock while their husbands talked golf in the next room. He’d even picked up a piggy or two at a few events, though you had to be extra careful with that (chain of association and all).

But he hadn’t shown his face in public since it had been ripped off and reattached, and some of his business contacts were getting suspicious. Spann’s iron-clad assurances were no longer enough to quell the rumors that Jesse Cromeans had died, or been deposed, and that someone else was running the company under his name. And that just would not do. He’d RSVP’d immediately, memories of Preston’s failed takeover flushing his system with old rage.

At least he’d be guaranteed some interesting company tonight, he thought, smirking at the garment bag draped over the stool next to him as he tapped out a quick text.

💀🖕: COME UPSTAIRS, I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU

Macarena: IF IT’S YOUR DICK I DON’T WANT IT

Jesse chuckled and went back to his tie, certain that either Marena’s curiosity or the urge to insult him to his face would bring her up shortly. He knew bow ties were traditional for black tie events, but wearing a fucking bow around his neck was a concession he’d never been able to force himself to make. Besides, he had a reputation for being… unconventional, and reputation was everything. Satisfied with the crisp Windsor knot, he shrugged on his black waistcoat, secretly pleased with the way it showed off the breadth of his chest.

“You look like a goth pirate,” came Marena’s voice from the doorway. “What the fuck.” As usual, he hadn’t heard her approach. She was the only person he knew who could sneak up on him, which was fun. Made things exciting.

“Haven’t you ever heard of ‘black tie’ before?” Jesse signed with a grin.

“Call me surprised then. Are we done?” In lieu of a verbal response, Jesse tossed the garment bag at her. Marena unzipped it enough to peek inside, then immediately re-zipped it.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nyet.”

“Can’t go to a gala wearing that,” Jesse replied, looking pointedly at her worn t-shirt and jeans. Marena threw the garment bag back and crossed her arms.

“How sad. Guess I won’t go.”

“Sure you will. I can think of a few things to make it fun.”

“So can I. Like not going.”

“Not an option.” Jesse was struggling to smother his laughter. The stubborn furrow of Marena’s brow was too cute to keep a straight face around.

“Why are you going?”

“Business.”

“And that has what to do with me?”

“You’re my plus one, little wench.” Marena visibly cringed.

“If we’re being pirates, I want a fucking sword. And I don’t mean your dick,” she snapped, cutting him off before he could sign a single word. Jesse’s shoulders shook with a full-body laugh, composure completely shot. He cupped Marena’s face in both hands and kissed her forehead, which he knew she hated, before pressing the garment bag into her hands once more.

“Try to look a little less like a corpse,” he advised, stepping around her to grab his dinner jacket. A litany of Russian curses followed him.

***

Marena’s concession to not resembling a corpse was a violently red lipstick that made it look like she’d been eating human hearts for every meal, which Jesse immediately wanted to smear across her face. The dress was black, of course, with a high collar and long sleeves. It would have covered her neck to toe had she not hiked one side of the skirt nearly up to her hip while she slipped a set of throwing knives into the holster around her slender thigh.

She made a compelling argument for ditching, Jesse thought, feeling a familiar tightening in his slacks. He couldn’t resist smoothing a hand along her exposed leg, fingers coming to rest just shy of her underwear.

“Once this dress comes off, it’s not going back on,” she warned.

“Noted and appreciated. You still have to come to this party.”

“Fuck.”

“Later.” 

Marena said nothing, just glared at him through her curtain of hair - which she had brushed just enough that the messiness looked intentional - and let her skirts fall back down to her ankles. Jesse quickly ushered her out of the room before he could do something ingenious like cancelling all of his commitments for the next month and spending the entire time in bed.

The ride in the Bentley was tense and silent. A sick pit of nerves was brewing in Jesse’s stomach, all too similar to the way his boyhood self felt on the way to school, and that was ten kinds of bullshit. He was a grown man. He was motherfucking Chromeskull. He should not be feeling like a little kid about to face a playground bully. But he was finding it very difficult to push the feeling away. His face looked a damn sight better than it did several years ago, but it would never go back to the way it was before, and he was about to walk into a room full of people who treated a minute blemish like a national scandal. He wanted his mask. He wanted to say fuck it and just keep driving until he hit someplace tropical. He wanted to kill something, to drown his insecurities in blood and adrenaline.

He half-wished he’d flown Asa out to rig the whole venue beforehand in case things went south.

Beside him, Marena was deathly still, one white-knuckled fist gripping the fabric of her skirt. She looked a million miles away, lost in whatever personal hell her own brain was conjuring for her. Jesse reached over and squeezed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. It was his version of a concession; a silent expression of gratitude. The fact that Marena didn’t push his hand away was a testament to how anxious she was.

“I still want a sword,” she grumbled. Jesse smiled and chucked her under the chin, which she also hated, and felt the knot in his chest loosen a bit.

***

It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. People stared, of course, but they were too “polite” (which was money-speak for “two-faced”) to say anything to his face. There were far more eyes on Marena, which Jesse both loved and loathed. The women’s jealous eyes tracked her every move like sharks scenting new prey, which was admittedly hilarious to watch; but the barely-concealed desire on the men’s faces sent prickles of possessiveness down Jesse’s spine. He kept his hand glued to Marena’s lower back, low enough to skirt the line of what their current company would consider decent.

If there was one thing the rich understood, it was possession.

“Cromeans!” the host bellowed, arms spread like they were old friends. “Still alive and in the flesh, I see! Some of the lads were getting worried!” A few of the “lads” murmured noises of agreement while the host gave Jesse an overly enthusiastic handshake. Jesse could feel their gazes catching on the eyepatch and the new curl of his lip, and he almost wished one of them would say something, just to give him an excuse to lash out. But the host’s attention wandered over to Marena, whom he foolishly deemed to be a safer topic of discussion.

“And who might this lovely creature be?” he asked, ignoring the sinful glances his wife was casting Jesse’s way.

“No one of consequence,” Marena replied sweetly with a tight, close-lipped smile. The man tipped his head back and guffawed, trying not to wither under the combined weight of Jesse and Marena’s unimpressed stares. He forged ahead anyway.

“You always did have a penchant for… unusual company, Cromeans, I’ll give you that. Tell you what,” he rubbed his hands together eagerly, “I’ve got a bottle of Lagavulin with your name on it in the gentlemen’s lounge. I’m sure Genevieve here can handle your lovely companion for a bit while we talk business.” He beamed benevolently at his wife, who looked as though she’d rather eat glass.

“Of course, dear,” she said, pasting a megawatt smile on her botoxed face. “It’s such a treat to see a new face around here. I’m sure the other girls would love to meet you.” She swept away towards a group of tittering young women draped in diamonds and pearls, Marena following with the stiff spine of a person walking to their execution. Jesse felt much the same way as “the lads” filed into the oak-paneled gentlemen’s lounge.

“Business” was code for the same inane bullshit being discussed in the ballroom, with the addition of whiskey, cigars, and complaints about wives and mistresses. These conversations were usually a goldmine for Jesse. As a mute, he was rarely expected to be an active participant, and the number of weaknesses people revealed when they assumed they were surrounded by allies was astounding. Tonight, though, he was twitchy and bored, distracted by thoughts of Marena stabbing one of those debutante brats through the eye with the stem of a champagne glass. As if on cue, his phone vibrated.

Macarena: I’M GOING TO KILL EVERYONE IN THIS BUILDING

💀🖕: DON’T START WITHOUT ME

Macarena: IT’S CUTE THAT YOU THINK I WON’T TAKE YOU OUT FIRST

💀🖕: AWW YOU THINK I’M CUTE?

Macarena: I WILL RIP YOUR SPINE OUT AND BEAT YOU WITH IT

💀🖕: DON’T TEMPT ME WITH A GOOD TIME BABY ;)

Macarena: THIS FUCKER KEEPS TRYING TO GET ME TO DANCE

Macarena: CAN I KNEECAP HIM

Macarena: I’M GONNA KNEECAP HIM

The little bastard’s kneecaps were spared when a staff member scuttled into the lounge to inform the host of some dire emergency, effectively breaking up the little gathering. Jesse strolled back into the ballroom and spotted Marena at a table near the exit, cornered by a little bitch with slicked-back hair and a greasy smile. The waves of irritation coming off of the girl were palpable and her smile obviously fake, and Jesse couldn’t decide if the guy was too stupid to notice, or was ignoring it because he had that effect on every woman he spoke to.

“Come on, baby,” he goaded, and Jesse could have broken his neck just for that, “it’s just one dance. Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?”

Marena’s smile froze on her face, and Jesse could practically hear the Kill Bill sirens going off in her head. The barb would’ve worked on any other woman in the room - horror of high society horrors, to be considered ill-mannered! - but for people of Marena and Jesse’s backgrounds, it hit much harder and much deeper.

“No,” she said, rising slowly and deliberately from her seat. “She didn’t.” She turned on her heel, leaving the idiot to gape at the failure of his clumsy manipulation tactics. Jesse grabbed her elbow and she passed and made a beeline for the exit. Not that he didn’t relish the prospect of a bloodbath, but initiating one right now would make future business dealings… complicated.

He memorized the fucker’s face on their way out, though.

***

Marena spent the next few days in a well-deserved sulk, resulting in the destruction of two punching bags and a serious case of blue balls for Jesse. He’d really been looking forward to ripping that dress off of her, damn it. He distracted himself with work and few more personal arrangements. At the end of the week, he tracked her down on the rooftop deck.

“Say your piece and fuck off,” she growled as he stood silently next to her chaise lounge, hands behind his back. She sounded exhausted and looked as though she hadn’t slept in at least two days. Affecting an air of mock seriousness, Jesse moved in front of her and bowed, offering her conciliatory gift on open palms.

“You did not.”

The shashka’s scabbard was a deep midnight blue, with subtle patterns of tree branches embossed in the fine leather. The hilt was smooth, black horn. The blade gleamed in the afternoon light as Marena unsheathed it with a fluid schnick.

“You are the absolute worst fucking person in the world,” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching dangerously close to a smile. A glint of wicked delight sparkled in her eyes as she gave the sabre a few experimental twirls and slashes.

“Only for you, baby,” Jesse replied with a cheeky grin. “Want to test it out?”

***

All it took was a pair of handcuffs and a dark warehouse to really bring out the bitch in some people. The asshole from the party (Jesse really needed to come up with a term for male piggies if this was going to be a recurring thing) had been tied up for barely a day and he was already a sniveling mess. Jesse, on the other hand, was in a great mood. He had his mask, his camcorder, and his favorite knife, and judging by the way Marena was practically purring as she traced her fingers around the shashka’s hilt, he was for sure getting laid tonight. 

The rich bitch didn’t recognize Jesse with his face covered, but his eyes went wide and he started screaming obscenities into his gag when Marena stepped under the light. She yanked the fabric out of his mouth.

“You fucking cunt! You’ll fucking regret this! Do you know who I am? Do you-” All the blood drained from his face when Marena drew the sword and held it to his throat in a lightning-fast move. He swallowed hard, the tip digging in just below his Adam’s apple and drawing a bead of blood. She really was a natural with that thing, Jesse thought as he circled the tableau with his camera. It was hot as fuck.

“Hi,” Marena said.

The man sweated in silence.

“I wanted to go back to our conversation a few nights ago,” she continued. “About my mother.” She let the sword drop to her side and the man relaxed fractionally.

“See, she did not teach me manners, but she did teach me a lot of other things.” She pushed the gag back into place and patted him a couple times on his quivering, tear-soaked cheek. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a black butterfly knife.

“Lesson one: bleeding.”

[bnhainsert]

Sound Out

Chapter 8: Aria Di Sorbetto

Hado woke up to a text from Jiro. She was asking if Hado wanted to see a new movie that had come out recently.

Jiro: Yeah there’s this new comedy movie we’ve been wanting to see

Hado: We?

Jiro: Ochako, Asui, Midoriya, and Shoji

Hado: Who’s Shoji?

Jiro: You know pro hero tentacole?

Hado: THAT’S HIM?! HELL YEAH I’D LOVE TO MEET ANOTHER PRO HERO

Jiro: Alright lay off the caps please. I’ll meet you at the movie around 4pm

           Hado put away her phone and decided to train a bit before she would have to get ready to leave. She managed to get some quirk training in as well as strength training. She took a shower to clean up a bit. She dug through her duffle bag looking for something cute to wear out to the movies. She unfortunately didn’t pack any of her cute casual clothes when she left home 3 weeks ago. She opened up her wallet and did some mental math. Because the cottage she had been living in was stocked, she hadn’t spent any money recently. She made the bold decision to go out and buy a new outfit to treat herself. She had been working so hard recently that she told herself she deserved it. The movie theater she would be meeting them at was in the shopping district anyway.

           Hado arrived in the shopping district looking for a nice shop to get a new outfit from. She settled on a AC Quarter’s because the clothes were moderately priced and wouldn’t break the bank. She double checked the time to make sure she had enough time to try the clothes on and leave. She had about an hour and a half before the set meeting time with Jiro.

           Browsing through the clothes she decided she would buy herself a dress. She didn’t have very many so, what the hell, why not? She sorted through a lot of different styles, almost always turning down something with a floral pattern on it. Hado had nothing against flowers, they were just too busy of a design on the cloth. “Too short…. too long….too formal….too….risqué” She thought sorting through all of the dresses. She stopped at a cute blue dress that was a little bit past knee-length. It had a cinched waist, a squared off neckline, and cute little buttons going down the middle. The best part of it was that it had thin wavy lines on it that reminded her of her hero costume. She found the dress in her size and went to check out. She looked down at her feet on the way to the counter and realized she was wearing the same sneakers she had worn for almost 5 years now. They looked very beaten up. “maybe I should get a new pair of shoes too…”

           Hado refused to wear heals. They sucked to walk in and they sucked to sing in. She looked at the variety of flats they had instead. She really liked the way the Tod’s shoes looked. Tod brand shoes were normally a little too pricey for her but she had the money to spare and purchase a pair of black ones.

On her way up to the counter she spotted a cute black choker and grabbed it boldly. Yeah, sure, chokers hadn’t been in style in a while, but she liked them and thought it would look cute with her dress. The cashier rang her up and gave her her total. “Is it like date night or something?” The woman behind the counter asked. “Oh no. I’m going to a movie with some friends. I just want to look cute for me and me along” Hado confidently responded. “Wish I had that same boldness” The lady replied. “Oh but you could! I bet you would look great in purple! Find a nice purple blouse, throw on some casual jeans and maybe some heels and you’ve got it made!” Hado threw out. She wasn’t sure where this advice was coming from, but the lady at the counter seemed to take it to heart. She smiled at Hado and thanked her. Hado waved back to the cashier as she walked out of the store. Hey, being a hero didn’t always mean catching villains or rescuing people.

           Hado changed in a nearby bathroom and put her old clothes in the shopping bag she was given. She made her way to the movie theater. She had managed to arrive 5 minutes early surprisingly. She sat down on a bench right outside waiting for her friends. “You’re here too?” She heard a familiar voice from behind. She turned around to see Bakugo in casual clothing. “Oh yeah um Jiro invited me out to this movie. I think it’s going to be real stupid so I’m looking forward to it” Hado said. “Yeah, whatever” Bakugo responded.

           About 2 minutes later, the others began to arrive. Jiro walked up with Ochako, Tsu, Midoriya, and the person Hado assumed was Shoji. He looked even cooler in person! Behind them she saw Ashido, Kaminari, Kirishima, and Sero. Ashido casually greeted Jiro. “Oh what a coincidence! We’re all here at the same time! Are you guys going to see the same movie too?” She asked innocently. Jiro mentioned the movie they were seeing, and it matched up. The whole group of pro heroes entered the theater.

           “Well this is fucking weird”  Hado thought to herself. She was very suspicious of Ashido who she had learned had a penchant for causing a stir. It wasn’t ever harmful trouble; it was just a little exhausting. The groups of pro heroes chatted with each other as they looked for seats in the theater. Before they could pick Bakugo marched his way up all the way to the top. He glared at everyone, almost daring them to sit near him. They were used to this by now so they followed him up, but instead of sitting on his row, they sat in the row in front of him. They managed to all get there before Hado had a chance to make it up the stairs. She looked and noticed that most of the seats were already taken. She sighed and made her way all the way up to the top and sat by Bakugo. Bakugo looked over at her, noticing her exhausted look.

“Hey if you don’t want to sit next to me, there’s plenty of other chairs here” he snarled.

Hado laughed in response which made a few of the pro heroes turn their heads, surprised. “Please I think I can handle sitting by you. Besides, who else am I going to annoy all move with my color commentary” Hado teased. Bakugo shot back a smirk. The few that had looked back were so shocked they didn’t realize they were staring. The only one who didn’t bother looking back was Midoriya.

“Hey mind your own business you damn extras” Bakugo snapped and they all immediately turned their head back to the screen and continued their conversations. Hado snickered in response. “Will that ever get old?” She asked aloud. “I hope not” Bakugo replied.

           Everything was going according to plan. Midoriya relaxed in his chair, a feeling of relief filling his body. He hoped this wasn’t too obvious of a set-up, but he knew his best friend would never have taken the initiative to ask Hado out. Midoriya remembered worrying about his friend and how he would even manage to make this happen. Luckily, he knew some of the smoothest people in town. Calling Mina, Denki, and Eijirou was a great idea. They had all brainstormed some ways of making this happen, throwing out the ideas that Bakugo would never go for, which was most of them. They all agreed that they had to trick him into a date because he was too much of an idiot to really act on those feelings. Hell the only person he really fully opened up to was Midoriya and he still didn’t mention how he felt about Hado to him. Midoriya knew though. Midoriya at least knew what a crush felt like.

           The lights went down, and the previews started. “Oh shit I forgot to buy the popcorn!” Kaminari said loudly and jumped out of his seat. “Get a big one for us to share” Mina shouted to him as he left the theater. He gave a nod of understanding before disappearing out of view. “Idiot” Bakugo said under his breath. He looked over at Hado suppressing a laugh. “He just wants to make the movie experience a little more fun. It just feels a little more complete with popcorn you know?” She explained. “If you wanted some goddamn popcorn all you had to do was ask” Bakugo shot back and stood up to leave his seat. Hado looked shocked at Bakugo as he stomped out of the theater. He was still surprising her even after all the time they had been spending together. A warm smile found its place onto her face.

           “Ooooo how are the love birds doing?” Ashido teased, looking back at Hado. Hado was thankful the lights had gone out so Ashido couldn’t see how red her face got. “Shut up. It’s not like that. This is just how Bakugo is” Hado replied. “I can’t remember the last time Bakugo got me popcorn at a movie” Kirishima stated. “Oh, you mean that time that never happened?” Sero added. The pro heroes started giggling. A few other people who were in the theater turned around and shushed them. “Oh come on it’s just the previews, don’t be so uptight” Hado replied. One of the people who had turned around started glaring at her. “Ugh I promise you won’t hear them again okay?” Hado said in an attempt to make peace. The person turned back around with a huff. “Not sure how you’re going to do that. We happen to be a very noisy bunch” Ashido said loudly. Luckily Hado was expecting it and stopped the soundwaves from reaching the people in front of them. Midoriya was the one to laugh this time. “She’s a sound hero Ashido. And she’s very good at what she does. That’s probably why Bakugo has taken a liking to her” Midoriya said turning around to smile at Hado. Her face turned beet red again. “There’s no way he’s interested in me as more than just like…. a training partner, or like a pro hero to work with. Yeah I’m just basically a coworker to him” Hado rambled in her head, making sense of everything the others were implying. Kaminari came back with a big bucket of popcorn and took his place. “What’d I miss?” He whispered to Jiro. “Just us picking on Hado” She responded. “Aww man I miss out on all the fun” he said upset but pushed a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

           Bakugo came back with a relatively normal sized bag of popcorn, stomping the whole way back up to his seat. “I better not have missed anything good loser” He said without taking his eyes off of the screen. “I thought you weren’t interested in a movie like this” Hado threw right back at him. “I’m not. I’m just here to tear down this shitty movie. I don’t want to miss a good chance to fucking annihilate whoever this dumb director is” Bakugo answered. Hado shrugged and faced the screen while every once in a while, grabbing some popcorn. “Thank you” she whispered to Bakugo as the movie started

           Hado didn’t get to fully enjoy the movie because she was so busy trying to keep her friends’ soundwaves from reaching the other people in the theater. That was incredibly hard to do considering other soundwaves were bouncing around. She did manage to keep Bakugo’s voice and her voice away from everyone in the theater. They shredded that movie, taking cracks at all of the cheesy lines and terribly designed sets.

           The credits began to roll and most everyone started to get up and leave. “Hey I’ve got some paperwork I forgot to finish up” Midoriya spoke up shooting out of his seat. “Let me know if we can do this again sometime” he said and shot out of the room before anyone could even blink. “Yeah I have some work still left for me at my agency. Ochako, would you mind helping out?” Tsu said as the two left the theater. Slowly each of the other heroes managed to find something they had to go do and left Hado and Bakugo alone in the theater. “Don’t tell me you have something else you have to do too” Hado sighed, sounding upset. “I already finished up all of my hero work unlike those losers” Bakugo replied. Hado smiled. “Hey what do you like to do for fun that doesn’t deal with hero work?” She asked curious. She had only ever seen Bakugo do hero work and everything that’s related to hero work.

“I’ll show you. Keep up nerd”

The two of them ended up at batting cages near the outskirts of the shopping district. They were nice batting cages too. Each booth was given a ton of room both to move and for the ball to fly through. “These batting cages were made specifically with quirks in mind” Bakugo explained slipping on a pair of gloves to help with the grip on the bat. “This is where I go on days when it’s raining and the training ground gets soaked” He continued. Hado looked at him very intensely, watching his every move. She watched him get ready for the machine to throw the pitches. He had set the frequency at which the machine shoots the ball higher than normal. Balls started flying out about every second and Bakugo was able to cool hit every single one of them. He wasn’t just strong, he was quick and strong, able to pull back fast enough again to put even more power in each new swing. How could someone make baseball look so goddamn cool.

“I know I’m awesome, but you can pick your jaw up off the floor you nerd” Bakugo’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. Hado shook her head. He started to put up the gloves and bat. “Are you done already?” Hado asked. He had only spent about 5 minutes hitting the baseballs back across the way. “No, I’m not done dumbass. A bat has its limitations” Bakugo replies. Hado put two and two together. “You’re going to use your quirk to propel it” Hado stated. Bakugo didn’t even reply. He just rolled his shoulders and focused. The balls came flying out at an even higher rate but each one was met by a very precisely placed explosion. It was incredible to watch. Not only did he hit every single ball, but he also sent them flying so fast and so far away.

Hado noticed sweat starting to glisten on Bakugo’s forehead. She couldn’t speak because she was so impressed by the display of prowess. These are skills she knew he had but it was different seeing those skills being used on something else. When they sparred, she never really had time to think about how much accuracy he had in his movements. She was always kept on her toes making sure she didn’t get hit. “If you don’t stop staring, I’ll start to think you have a crush on me” Bakugo said uncharacteristically. She turned away and blushed a light shade of pink. Something about it made her feel uneasy. “Is he making fun of me? I know I’m not up to his standards, but does he really have to tease me about that” Hado grappled with her inner monologue.

Bakugo must have notice something was wrong because he looked at Hado confused. “You look like you’re gonna’ vomit. You need to go home?” He asked. Hado didn’t like the feelings she was grappling with, but she also still wanted to spend more time with Bakugo. It was selfish of her, but when was the last time she got to enjoy herself so much? Hado shook off the awful feeling of nausea in her stomach. “No no I’m fine!” She told Bakugo. “Hey since you used your quirk on the ball, can I give it a try?” She changed the subject. “Yeah go ahead but you’re not going to break my record or anything” He teased.

Hado lowered the timing of how often the balls were thrown. She had to concentrate really hard. She had to figure out how strong to make the soundwaves to at least make the ball have backwards motion, then she had to figure out how powerful she could make the soundwaves to see how far and fast she could repel the balls. The first ball shot out. She calculated where it was headed and amplified a test soundwave. She made the ball stop in midair and drop to the ground. “Alright now I know the minimum output I need to send the ball backwards”. The next ball came flying out and this time her soundwave pushed the ball backwards, but it didn’t fly very far or very fast. The 3rd ball flew farther, faster. Each time the ball went a little bit farther and a little bit faster. By the last one, she had been shooting them back as far and as fast as Bakugo had with the bat. She felt slightly accomplished because Bakugo’s hits with the bat were still way over what a normal human could do.

“Not bad. You’ve still got some got some work to do but you’ve shown a lot of improvement over a short amount of time” Bakugo praised. It made Hado feel warm and happy. The compliment made her want to work even harder just to hear Bakugo say something nice about her again. Then she had a thought. There was something she could do that he most likely couldn’t.

“Hey if we’re done here, I have another place I’d like to go. You got to show off here so it’s my turn to show you what I can really do”

“Oh?” Bakugo said, raising one eyebrow. He had no idea where they were going to go, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t a least a little bit excited to see what Hado meant.

The two of them ended up at a bar that did Karaoke every night of the week. He sighed heavily. Of course, it was singing. She’s a goddamn sound hero. Singing wasn’t quite his speed, but he would go along with it because…. well because it was Hado. She seemed so excited too. Seeing her smile made him feel like nothing else mattered in the world, as long as he could see that smile. They took a seat at the bar and Hado immediately asked for a shot of whiskey. “Eh? What are you doing dumbass?” Bakugo asked. “Taking one shot gives me just a little more courage to sing sincerely” She said giving him a wink. That was surprising. She normally isn’t this bold. Was she flirting with him? Bakugo was kind of confused. “Did you want anything? I’m paying” She offered. “I’m not much of a drinker” Bakugo replied and asked for a glass of water. She shrugged and walked off to check out the songs on the Karaoke machine. She seemed to find a song she liked and grabbed the microphone ready to sing on the stage.

Things were pretty slow in the bar so it almost felt like a little private performance for him. He threw that thought out into the garbage. He didn’t deserve things like that. He stared intently at Hado as she started to sing. She surprisingly picked an alternative rock song. Bakugo took her for more a pop girl.

“Please don’t mind what I’m trying to say ‘cause I,

I’m being honest when I tell you that you,

You’re part of the reasons I’m set on the rest of my life

Being a part of you

And tell me what you think about

Being open

About being honest with yourself

‘Cause things will never be the sa-aame”

Her voice rang out beautifully. Her eyes were lighting up. She was looking straight at Bakugo with those bright happy eyes. It was so…. Enchanting. Bakugo wondered if maybe she had two quirks considering she had told him that her mother sang like an angel. Hado looked like she was having so much fun even though there were maybe a total of 3 people watching her. It felt like she was only singing for Bakugo. He felt his face heat up ever so slightly, thinking about the words of the song. Surely, they didn’t mean anything. It might have just been one of her favorite songs.

She finished the song but asked the owner if she could keep going considering how slow business was. The owner smiled happily and encouraged her to keep going. He’s probably heard all types of voices, most of them being drunk and not well tuned. Bakugo bet that Hado’s voice was like a breath of fresh air for this guy. And he would have to agree.

She picked a slow song this time with a slightly country twang. Bakugo wasn’t the biggest fan of country but he would give it a try because…. Well, again it was Hado singing it.

“Dear God the only thing I ask of you is

To hold her when I'm not around

When I'm much too far away

We all need that person who can be true to you

But I left her when I found her

And now I wish I'd stayed

'Cause I'm lonely and I'm tired

I'm missing you again oh no

Once again”

The slight tinge of sadness struck a chord in Bakugo. She honestly looked like she was going to cry. He felt the emotions of the song through her voice and her expression. Then something even more amazing happened. Another voice layered on top of hers to create a harmony. She was using her quirk to create her own harmonies. Knowing what Bakugo knew about her quirk, that would take a lot of concentration and control to do something like that. She had already thrown back 3 shots so some of her concentration had to be off.

As Bakugo was stuck in his thoughts, people started to trickle in from outside. They seemed to hear Hado singing and were drawn in. Hado finished up her song and looked around nervously. The owner encouraged her to sing one more song because no one else had signed up yet. Bakugo figured they would probably want to throw back a few drinks before getting up there to sing. It was called liquid courage for a reason.

Hado picked one more song to sing for the now growing crowd. As she began her song Bakugo overheard the conversation between two guys near him. “Oh man her voice is awesome. And she’s pretty cute too. Think she’s taken?”. Something inside of Bakugo threatened to snap. The conversation made his blood boil. “Fucking jerks” he said under his breath. Hado finished up her song and was about to walk off the stage to give someone else a chance. The two men Bakugo heard earlier were talking again. “Oh, dude there she goes. I’m going to see if I can get her number” one guy said and gave his drink to his buddy.

Hado quickly made her way to Bakugo who was grinding his teeth to keep himself from physically hurting the man who spoke earlier. Before she could make it all the way back to her seat, the man who wanted her number tapped her on the shoulder. Bakugo felt like he was going to explode. “Hey, you have an incredible singing voice” The guy complimented her. “Oh thanks… I get it from my mom” She shyly replied. Bakugo could tell she was uncomfortable. He arms were folded in front of her and her eyes were focused on the floor. “Well your mom has one hell of a daughter. Would you mind if I-” the man stopped mid-sentence seeing Bakugo walk up behind Hado and put his arm around her waist. “Mind if you what” Bakugo growled. “Oh uh… um… nothing nevermind. Just wanted to say you were great… um have a good night” he said nervously as he quickly shuffled his way back over to his friend. Hado sighed, relieved. She looked up to Bakugo. She then looked down at his hand still around her waist. Bakugo noticed her staring at his hand and he suddenly let go feeling….self-concious?

“Hey, thank you for that. I have trouble politely telling people to fuck off. Not sure why” Hado admitted. Bakugo had a small thought form in the back of his mind. “What if she’s just hanging out with me because she doesn’t know how to tell me to fuck off?”.

“Hey earth to Bakugo. Let’s get out of here. There’s too many people” Hado said. Bakugo snapped back to reality and walked out of the bar with her, giving those men one last hard glare.

“Was there anything else you wanted to do tonight?” Hado asked sweetly. Bakugo just shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe it’s time for us to just head home” He suggested bitterly. He looked back at Hado and she looked so upset. A pang of guilt hit him right in the chest. Did she still really want to spend more time with someone like him?

“I…. I was really enjoying out time together. We’ve never hung out outside of hero work or training. I haven’t had this much fun with anyone else ever” She bravely admitted. Any doubt he had before quickly left his mind after her confession. “Well…. It’s still getting late. If you want…. I could let you crash at my place” he quietly offered. Hado’s face lit up. There was that smile again, and it felt like all was right with the world again.

The two made it back to Bakugo’s place. He unlocked the door and let her in. It’s a pretty normal looking place. He did have a wall where he hung up articles of him being praised as a pro hero. They sat down on the couch in the front room and talked for hours. They talked to each other about villain busts, and old high school stories. They talked about each other’s goals and dreams. They learned about their favorite colors and music and weather. Bakugo looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We should probably rest up. You can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch” Bakugo offered. Thinking about Hado sleeping in his bed made him embarrassed but he wasn’t sure why.

“Oh no I can sleep on the couch. I think I’d feel just a little weird sleeping in your bed. No offense to you! Your wonderful and I like being around you and stuff. I just think I’d be more comfortable on the couch” Hado admitted. A small part of Bakugo felt rejected, but he pushed that feeling aside and shrugged. He stood up and started to walk off to his bedroom. “Just let me know if you need anything” he said not looking back. “Oh, hey just one thing!” Hado called. He turned around and she planted a kiss directly on his cheek. His face got hot and his heart thumped hard in his chest. He wasn’t moving, just standing completely still in the middle of the room.

“Oh god did I break you? I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have-” Hado was cut off mid-sentence. Bakugo had quickly grabbed her to pull her close and put his lips on hers. His heart thumped even more loudly in his chest. Every ounce of passion he had been feeling was poured into that kiss. He broke the kiss first and looked at Hado’s blushing face. He smirked realizing that he had caused her to blush like this. She wasn’t moving. “Hey earth to sound girl” Bakugo mocked. She let out a small giggle.

“There’s more where that came from, so you better be careful” Bakugo managed to both tease and threaten. He walked back off to his bedroom. Hado couldn’t believe what just happened, but it was incredible, and she felt like she was on cloud nine. She tucked herself in for the night on the couch. She wondered about what tomorrow would hold.

Chapter 7   Chapter 9

[minyoonkeeks]

Late Night Maintenance // JJK

Pairing : JJK X Reader (F)

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Warnings : good old vanilla sex in all aspects, there's some oral and pretty much it. Nothing triggering (:

A/N: I know I said I was starting my new series, but my good friend who I originally wrote this fic for, finally read it. It's my first smut fic ever, and generally the second one I've even written. I've reread it and there are things I wish I could word better, but it's a growth process so I'm happy with it right now. Please let me know if you liked it (:

_________

"Yeah sure I can work with that schedule. Thank you so much for working with us, we will get the prompts out to you by the end of the week"

You quickly hung up the phone and organized your desk. It was you vacation getaway with your best friends from your hometown. All of you grew up together but when college started, you chose to stay and help out in the family travel business to get your photography started. It wasn't as big of a deal to you than to the other girls who wanted you to go with them, but it made your getaway trips legendary.

Hence why you were on your way, bolting to the airport to get on the first flight to Hong Kong. It was insane how quickly everything came together. Your best friend Lia's boyfriend Yoongi was on a special trip out during the time of your trip and was able to secure 3 more tickets for you, your other friend Becca and her boyfriend Hoseok. You only had 2 weeks to get everything ready and packed as much as you could for your week out in another country. To be honest, being at home started to feel stifling and you really wanted to see if your photography would get you anywhere else. It wasn't that you didn't love home, but it was obvious that nothing would happen if you stayed in your bubble.

So off you were, 1 week in Hong Kong with your best friends and all on their boyfriend's dime. It was odd, while Lia had Yoongi, Becca had Hoseok, and you weren't feeling any vibes from anyone. It didn't upset you, but you knew if you stayed any longer you'd end up marrying that creep from down the street who would stare at you whenever you made any trips out of your house. This was the perfect opportunity. You would see if your photography fared with any other artists, and just maybe you'd be able to get rid of some of those bad love juju vibes everyone said you had. 

"C'mon don't be like that!" Becca yelled while she finished getting ready in the bathroom. "Yeah we can't have our annual dinner without you!" Lia whined as she hugged your leg, causing it to fall asleep from how hard she was grabbing at it. "I just feel a little off. I love the guys, I do, but I don't wanna be third wheeling. I promise, we'll go out together another time. Just take today and go be in love you babies." You sighed as you changed the channel on the TV. Quickly a hotel promotion popped up for a night in at Disney Hong Kong, courtesy of the swanky hotel concierge team since you were in a hotel suite. "Look I can go to Disney at night! You know I've always wanted to go see the castle, and it's special hours for us. See I have something to do, so get ready so I can be on my way!" You feigned enthusiasm so they could get the hint and leave you alone. You really didn't want to sit through 2 hours of making out on one end and cutesy talk on the other. It was bad enough on the plane ride having to sit through it while everyone gave you pity looks and to deal with it tonight would be a no thanks since tomorrow the boys were off to do their business venture and you'd be with just the girls. "Fine, but if we come back and you are still here watching netflix in your pajamas you are dead meat." Lia stared at you, you knew she meant business, especially when she wasn't getting what she wanted. There wasn't any getting out of it either. You weren't planning on going, but 10 minutes into your Strong Girl Bong Soon rerun you thought, why the hell not? There wasn't anything stopping you, and it was free. You changed into a long sleeve with your favorite overalls decided to grab your camera and go down to see what Disney was about.

The ride to the park was quiet. You really didn't think you'd be one of 3 people in the van going to late night Disney. It was Disney, you know? Happiest place on earth? But you guessed it was because it was almost midnight that you'd have most of the park to yourself. There was an older man driving who you counted as one because otherwise you'd have to acknowledge that you were sitting next to an incredibly good looking man. He wore black tshirt over some jeans and you could tell he wasn't really looking at anything, kind of like he was lost in his own mind. As you sat down, he jolted up and looked right at you, big brown doe eyes full of innocence. You face flushed, how couldn't it, when smiled at you and very cooley said, "Hi, don't mind me, please sit." You had just about choked on air from how beautiful he smiled after talking. And so you sat in silence, trying not to fidget too much, so he wouldn't notice your awkwardness. When you finally arrived, you realized just how alone you'd be. The massive entryway only had 1 lane open and there were no cars passing by to drop off or pick up non existent passengers.

"Don't worry, it's open." The ridiculously cute boy said as he looked at you, smiling a huge bunny smile. You couldn't help but notice him now. Tall, really tall, and although he was wearing a large shirt, you could clearly see defined muscles making your eyebrows lift up from the surprise, and hoping he didn't notice. But clearly he did as he smirked giving you your once over. 

"Oh, and you know this how?" You asked, trying not to sound too out of control from how your brain wanted grab his arms as a reflex to see if he was really built because you hadn't had any decent sex in so long. He stared at you for a second, trying to gage whether you were teasing him, or you genuinely wanted to know. "Oh, I work here. I'm helping renovate the castle with my uncle since I had some time off this summer and he needed the extra help. Most of the guests don't come out at this time since I guess they like to sleep." He chuckled to himself and you made a face worthy of laughter. Was he messing with you? "Honestly, I only came to get the churros and head out, thanks" you scoffed. You chuckled under your breath as you saw his reaction, clearly not expecting you to bite back at his teasing, or lame attempt at it anyway. You walked past him and into the park ignoring his eyes as he looked right at you, smug smile from being defeated at his own game.

The park was beautiful. Lights and rides lit up, although none of them were running at this hour for safety reasons. It was ok since you came to take photos anyway. You took your camera out of its case and began taking photos. It was so relaxing, for the first time feeling like your photos were yours and not solely for the purpose of putting them on a travel ad. You loved your job, I mean it was your parents blood, sweat, and tears that went into it, but it wasn't yours. It was their dream. And being here now, taking photos and being carefree for a second made you realize what you were missing out on.

"Beautiful, right?" You heard his voice behind you. Almost as if he was so close you could feel his breath on you, and for a second you had to get a hold of yourself. "Yeah, it's definitely out of this world" you mentioned, trying to keep the ache in your pants from making you choke on your words. He ends up right next to you staring curiously as you gaze out at the landscape and it's enough to make you lose your breath.

"C'mon, I'm not on a time crunch, I can show you around if you'd like. My name's Jungkook by the way." He smiles at you and extends a hand. You take notice at how he squeezes a little too hard and it makes you think of how it'd be like for him to squeeze your thighs to let him in and you have to snap out of it. "I'm ______, sure I could go for some company." 

As he's explaining the buildings while you're taking photos, you can't help but feel him looking at you from time to time and it makes your knees weak. If it was day time, it probably wouldn't have the same effect, but something about the lights and the fact that he kept getting closer to you made you think about how his arms would feel around your waist, or how his torso would feel around your legs. 

"And here's my stop." You quickly broke out of your thoughts to look up at the dark castle. He notices how you startle to his voice and laughs a little. "Oh, I didn't realize it was so soon. Thanks Jungkook, this was fun" you mumble back, cheeks red from where your thoughts were leading you. He looks flushed and for a second he's biting on his lip, making yours do the same. "You want to come look inside? There's a few rooms that don't have access for regular customers, but I can show you if you promise not to tell anyone." He nudges you, and you feel his muscles through his shirt, yeah definitely ripped, you thought. "Sure, as long as you'll let me take a few photos, I mean not like you own the place" you laugh awkwardly and slap his shoulder. He winks at you as you both start walking towards the gate.

As you walk in you have a great sense of… nothing. Its blank, gray walls coating the inside of something so beautiful on the outside. You see the lights through stained glass illuminating your pathway and you wonder for a second where all the illusion went. Jungkook is walking slowly behind you and you fail to notice when he puts his hand on your waist as he guides you in the dark. As you reach his work destination you see it's quiet and completely alone, but you aren't nervous. "It's kind of weird huh? We're supposed to be adding a terrace and it's already there but we're waiting on the designers to finish their sketching to continue. We're supposed to meet them tomorrow. Here, let me show you." He takes you hand and laces his fingers between yours as he guides you up to the terrace.

You get there and he holds you by the waist to pick you up. As you look out and see the view you can't help but feel how rough his hands are on your waist. You turn and stare at him gauging if it's your imagination, or if he wants the same thing you do. You shake the thoughts out of your head walking towards the edge to take a closer look around the park. You take a few photos, noticing how Jungkook stands behind you, leaning against a post. It kind of makes you take a second to breath, feeling like he's staring at you and not at the scenery around him. "Come sit with me" he calls out to you, and as you turned you saw him laying a blanket down. " Since I work night shifts, I usually spend my time listening to music and sitting here. It's pretty calm, and I like hearing the way the wind carries over." He sounds happy and you smile as you walk over to him sitting next to him. He grabs your hand and holds it, and at first it startles you, but seeing his smile as he lays back a little you can't help but wonder if he would be like this all the time. If this was how he treated his special someone. You talked for what felt like hours  about your home, your job, and you ambitions. He would smile occasionally and tell you about his life. He wasn't actually from Hong Kong, but just working while he figured out where he wanted to go or do. You admired him for that, being free enough to go anywhere and do what he wanted without falling into pressure. "Why don't you come with me next time? I'll probably go back home to Korea for a few months and then set out somewhere, anywhere. We'd have a lot of fun." He remarked and looked at you, big brown eyes full of interest. It was different, feeling like you were meant to meet him tonight, and although you'd never make a rash decision, you couldn't help but love the idea of hanging out with him, taking photos, and having fun. It seemed too good to be true but you didn't let that get in the way. 

You stand up and pull on his arm to help him up, Jungkook towering over you. "Sure, maybe one day, you never know." You smile at him. He's warm and sweet and yet you can't quite place what he's thinking as he squeezes your fingers between his as he jumps off the terrace.

He pulls you down slightly and places his hand behind your neck bringing you down to his eye level. You could smell his musky scent and moaned a little too loudly into him and his soft eyes quickly turned into lust. He took your face into his and kissed you, at first with so much yearning, that you couldn't help but open your mouth to let him in. " I've been waiting all night to do that." He smiled as he let go for a quick second before attaching himself to you again. He brought you down and sat you on the edge to kiss you harder and longer. You opened your legs to let him slide his body in between yours and you gasped when you felt his hardness brush against you. "Mmm Kook, me too" you whispered. He took that as an opportunity to let his tongue slip inside you again and you only moaned louder into him, making him smirk. As he pulled away he watched you, with dark lust filled eyes, as he spoke roughly. "You really couldn't wear something a little more convenient huh?" He said as he watched you catch your breath and slowly unbuckle your overalls. "I didn't really think I'd be fucking a hot ass guy at a palace, did I?" You chuckled as he went to suck on your collarbone. He went slowly up your neck sucking and leaving love marks, as you moaned in anticipation for what was next. "I knew I was going to fuck you from the moment I saw you get on the van" he growled into your ear and nibbled, "Well then, fuck me please" was all you could say before he crashed his lips back onto yours.

His hands quickly trailed down your sides, along your breasts, making you hitch your breath. He squeezed at your nipples between the fabric of your bra causing you to moan out his name in pure ecstasy. He tugged on the ends of your shirt and you lifted up your hands to let him take it off. As he stood back for a second, you started feeling anxious, but the look on his face gave away any inhibitions about what you wanted to do to him. You unclipped your bra staring right at him as you slowly took it off, watching as he devoured your body with his eyes. "This really is the most magical place on earth. You're gorgeous, come here" he said walking back towards you.

He started kissing your lips slowly, leaving love bites down your neck and into your chest. Once he reached your breast, he kissed around reaching your nipple and sucking on it making you gush between your thighs. He looked up to lock eyes with you and trailed the other hand between your legs to feel your heat. "I think it's time we take these off don't you think?" Jungkook said as he moved to take off the rest of your clothes.

As they hit the floor, Jungkook's lips were back nibbling on your nipple as his hand made his way back to your mound. There was no denying how aroused you were when he felt your slickness soaking through your panties. "Mmm, feels like I could fit right in already huh?" He said as he moved your panties to the side and slid his fingers through your slit, making you moan in response. "I want to see you too" you said as you tugged off his shirt. You ran your fingers over his defined muscles and kissed along his shoulder blade, smooth skin hot and cold at the same time.

"Lay down for me" he whispered as he tugged your panties off. He lowered himself to your thighs, kissing along and leaving a trail of bite marks, claiming every bit of your body that he could. Once he reached your core he trailed his tongue up your slit, bringing more moans out of you. "You like that baby?" He whispered as he licked once more, this time circling your clit with his tongue. You grabbed the back of his head as a reflex, and it only made him hungrier for your juices. He groaned into your pussy lips to suck on your clit. "Mmm, you taste so good baby, I could do this all night." His voice sounding an octave lower and full of sex. All you could do was moan, hearing him call you baby made a fresh wave of arousal hit you. 'More, I need more" was all you could say as Jungkook slipped a finger into your aching cunt. Your walls clenched his fingers, happy for the intrusion as your juices coated his finger when he started fucking you with it. Your moans getting louder, and his assault on your clit, making you grind into his face. You could feel him moving his stance and looked over for a second to see him palming his erection, waiting to be released. It made you so much wetter knowing that he was enjoying this just as much as you. He noticed you looking and slid a second finger provoking another loud moan from you. "You're so tight baby, I need to make sure you're ready for me" he said as he scissored his fingers into you. "I want to see you" you said between moans, earning another groan from him as he fucked you with both fingers. He curled them inside of you, hitting your sweet spot and making you gasp loudly only making him harder. "Cum in my mouth baby and I'll give you whatever you want" he whispered into you and began fucking you harder. Hearing those words were enough and soon you were toppling over the edge, seeing white and groaning out his name "Fuck , Kook!" Was the only coherent thing coming out of your mouth as you came. He kissed your cunt, stood up, juices covering his mouth and chin, as he smiled seductively, leaving your aching pussy wanting more. "That was so hot," He took your hands and pulled you up so you were meeting his chest. "Show me how much you want me"

You lowered yourself off the terrace, knees wobbly from how you body reacted to Jungkook, and held onto his jeans. Slowly kissing down his toned torso you skimmed the lining of his jeans to reach the buttons. Undoing the clasp, you looked kissed him roughly as he moaned into you. You pulled his jeans down  slowly along with his boxers releasing him from the constraints of the fabric. As you got on your knees you let out a huge sigh. He was big, bigger and thicker than you have ever had. "You like what you see baby?" He whispered bringing it down and stroking it in front of you, making your pussy ache from the sight. He has a slight curve and he was red with how hard he was, precum droplets coming out of the slit. It looked delicious and all you could think about was how he would feel fucking your mouth. You looked up at him, and he was holding his breath to see what you would do. You smirked and licked from his balls up to the tip of his cock, feeling him tremble under your touch. You licked the precum off, slowly engulfing him in your mouth. He groaned and gripped onto the edge of the terrace as you started to bob your head, licking around the tip to give.him a little more. "Fuck ____ you look gorgeous, so beautiful baby. Take my cock in all the way." He hissed as you licked around his cockhead once more. There was no way he would fit completely inside your mouth, but as you pumped your mouth on him he grabbed your head and began fucking you mercilessly. "Fuck _____ it feels so fucking good. Your mouth feels like it was made for me to fuck it" his thrusting getting more intense only made your arousal come back faster and soon you were rubbing your clit with the same speed as his mouth fucking. You pulled away fast, sucking and popping him out of your mouth when he started getting sloppy, knowing that he was going to cum.

"Baby, I need you in me." Was all you could say as he picks you up and throws you back on the terrace, placing his body right between you on the edge. You could feel his rock solid erection throbbing close to your core. "I Don't have protection, didn't really think I needed it tonight  you know?" He says, hunger in his eyes. "It's fine, I have a thing, keeps the babies away, just fuck me already" you moaned back waiting to see what he'd do. He brought his face close up to yours and kissed you hard, hard enough for you not to notice him rubbing his dick against your slit. "Good, it'll just make the sex even better" he whispered and slammed his dick into you, giving you no time to prepare. "Fucking hell, oh shit" was all you could say as he cradled you in his arms fucking you as if he'd prepared al alongl. It stung, more than you thought it would, but hearing his grunts and moans only made you want him to fuck you harder, and soon all you could feel was the intense pleasure from his dick slapping against your cunt. He nibbled on your ear as you repeatedly told him to fuck you faster and harder, wrapping your legs around him and holding on. "You're so fucking tight baby, just like I imagined. Even better. I can't wait to --ugh-- fucking spill everything in you, on you, everywhere." He cursed as he railed into you. He placed his hand between you and started rubbing circles around your clit bringing screaming moans out of you. "Kook, fuck me harder, I need more." Was all you could say. He trusted into you one last time before holding himself as deep as he could, trying to catch his breath, and trying even harder not to cum inside you yet. He pulled out, leaving you empty for a second and climbed on the terrace, pulling you down on top of him. 

"Ride me, I want to see you ride me" he said panting. You aligned yourself on his cock, your lips slowly taking the head of his cock in as he looked with full lust in his eyes. "This is fucking amazing, you're so fucking beautiful" he gulped as you took him in inch by inch, moaning into him and dropping down giving him a kiss. It wasn't rough, just sexual and intimate, and you moaned out his name slowly grinding against him. He grabbed your thighs, the rough sweaty texture of him making you clench around him even more as you slowly roll your hips against his. "You're gorgeous Kook, let me look at you" you softly tell him as you move his sweaty hair from his face making him blush. He makes his way to your breasts and squeezes them gently making soft whimpers from where he wants to fuck into you. You lower your body and he takes a nipple into his mouth slowly circling and biting the perky nub, "yeah, just like that" you whisper as your fucking goes from intense and rough to sensual and intimate as you get closer to your release. He brings your hips lower into him, feeling his cock reach areas you hadn't ever felt someone reach and making you wimper and fuck back into him harder. "Yeah just like that baby, make yourself feel good for me. -mmmm- I want to feel you cum on my cock" he groans in small broken sentences, getting sloppier by the second. It only turns you on even more to hear him talk like that so you're grinding onto him harder. You grab the nape of his neck and pull him up with you as you move your legs around his waist. It gives him access to start fucking harder into you, holding your hips down as you ride him, unable to control your moans. He kisses you, hungrily, as if he's asking for something, and soon you grab onto him, seeing white, and feeling the pressure snap and release into pure bliss. "Fuck ____ you look so beautiful cumming for me, don't stop." You hear him through your orgasm as you go in for a kiss. He takes it and moans as he releases into you, spilling his seed inside and coating your walls. He rides out his orgasm, leaving you sensitive and holding tightly to his back to steady yourself. "Wait, too much." You say, panting into his neck.

As you slowly stop he turns and looks at you, his face happy and smiling, unable to contain himself as he kisses you again. "That was way better than working tonight, " he jokes and soon you're both laughing into each other. You nudge him playfully and rest your head on his shoulder,leaning back to lay down over the terrace. He takes his shirt and drapes it over you, and you can't tell when, but you fall asleep.

When you wake up in the morning, groggy from your late night escapade you see Jungkook shuffling away and cleaning the area. "Here, we're late. My uncle and our associates are coming to look at our progress. I'm gonna need you to go out the back," he says as he hands you your clothes, pulling you up to get ready. You quickly put on everything and follow him out the back way. He looks at you, kind of like he wants to say something, but instead kisses your forehead. "What was that?" You chuckle, cheeks reddening from the sudden intimacy. "For making my job ten times better last night." He says laughing and pulling you into a quick hug. "Oh that? No problem, anytime" you say and you eyes widen at the comment clearly stupid enough to come out of your mouth. "Yeah, I'd like that. Here, take my number call me when you get a chance to go out. And I don't mean just to do last night, although, I'd like that too" he laughs as he's trying not to blush. "Thanks, I'll see you around." You tell him as you walk out and towards the gate of the park.

By the time you get back to the hotel, all you want to do is sleep on your warm bed and bask in the way it felt to be touched by Jungkook. You let out a huge sigh and plop down only to feel someone tugging at your legs. "_____ !! What are you doing?? Where have you been? Wake up, we have somewhere to go. I promise you'll like it. " Lia says as she's tugging at you. "I told you I was going out. Where are we going? You didn't mention anything before" you groaned as you kicked her legs away wanting to engulf yourself in the pillows. "Come on, it'll be fun I promise." Becca said as she turned the shower on and Lia dragged you into it. "Wear something cute we're going out to celebrate Yoongi and Hobi making cash! They got the contract and are taking us out!" "Ugh fine, only if you'll let me come back early. I'm tired." You sighed making your way to the restroom and getting ready against your better judgement.

Once you got out of the taxi you walked into the diner looking through your purse and bumping into something hard. "Sorry, I didn't mean to," you reply as Lia's pulling you back . "It's ok " you hear a voice say and suddenly your eyes open wide and you look up. "____ this is Jungkook, sorry about that bro, sometimes she gets lost her headspace" Yoongi mentioned as you looked bewildered at the scene before your eyes. "It's fine, hey ____ nice to meet you, I'm Jungkook" he smiles wide as you take his hand and blush unintentionally at the contact. Lia and Becca share glances and giggle telling the boys to go sit down so you could have a moment. 

"What's going on" you say as you feel him tangle his fingers through yours. He gets close enough to not cause any suspicion but enough to put his hand around your waist and caress your side. " I didn't think it'd be appropriate to tell them I knew you as the girl who fucked me last night. Let's keep that between us, but…" he paused and got closer to your ear whispering, "this definitely makes things easier don't you think?"

[lokislittlemagpie]

ask 16 and 32 wuw

((WOAH OMG HI LMAO- I'll add a meme for them too just to show more of their personality-)

Lets start with Benny!

(THIS IS A 20 YEAR TIME SKIP TO THE CURRENT SERIES!!!)

32) (this actually helps with explaining him anyway-) Benny was designed after Brook the skeleton big time- He has darker skin and jade eyes like his mom (an undead demon 1800s girl i made a long while back-) Unlike both parents, he is fully living since he was created by CC! But he does have a veerry sensitive body (can get sick very easily or can very easily die by eating anything too spicy-) small heart issues, and is kinda thin- He is about 6 feet 7 inches and has dark black curly hair that he usually has inna tight pony tail! (kinda like Usopp but it drops down more, not as round rlly) He is 18!

16) Benny, as i said, is a lot like Brook but he is also incredibly inspired by Cyclonus too! He does have a love for old music and loves sword canes- But hes a huge chicken like Brook too- He loves Les Misrerables and he loves Hamilton- if you even get this man started, he will earrape One more Day and Satisfied until that's all you can hear in your worst nightmares-

32) Yunni is about 5 feet 6 inch of pure sass- He is blond with big green eyes that are quite beautiful actually- He loves pink booty shorts and crop tops with things that say the dumbest jokes like "kawaii on the streets" on the front and "Senpai in the sheets" on the back- He is a great cook and will gladly be your sassy prep boi- his hair is kinda a combo of Sanji and Italy from Hetalia- He has that one strand of curly hair like he does but theat medium hair that covers one eye like Sanji but it's longer on the left and curls at the tips! He is 24!

16) He is inspired by 4 characters! Sanji, Italy, Swerve, and Bumblebee- His personality is a mush of Swerves low self-esteem jokes, Bumblebee Bayverse sass, Italy's cuteness, and Sanjis slight anger problems and his cooking skills aren't as great but hes a great bar tender! He loves Jeff Dunham, Gordon Ramsay, and Kevin Hart and he references their jokes or threats on the daily-

32) Ruby is the daughter of two black magicians! Basil Hawkins and Dorothy Hopkins (whos next!) She has looong hair like her dad but is a slightly dark brown with black a the tips! She has his deep red eyes tho- Her face is more rounded like her mother's and she's only 5 foot 4- She's calm ajd quiet but can and will burn you not just literally but with just five words, your life is over- She always has a small smile on her face and always carries her book of spells! She has both her parents clothing sense wth dark clothes but she has to have her fathers old school frills and long black and red robes like her mother! She is 20!

16) She is inspired obviously from Hawkins- But she is very slightly tinted with Drift from Bayverse! She will tell dark dark poems at honestly the not so best of times- and she loves swords! She loves Adventure time and Steven Universe- Its the only light side to her just don't say that to her face-

32) Dorothy is a 5 foot 5 Long slightly curly black curly haired magician! She has a third eye that runs in her now extinct royal family. She is always gently smiling but will put you in your place- One cold stare and make you wanna regret being born- She keeps her third eye covered with her hair and has emerald green eyes- her third eye has a huge dry eye problem so its kinda lightly tinted yellow with red veins- but its still green! She loves her medical dark magic gowns and gear! She is more into demons and sacrifice while Ruby likes to summon little demons and do blood moon stuff! They both love crystals tho! Amythest and Quartz are a must-

16) She is inspired by only a two people- Loki from Marvel with her slight sense of humor and honestly her hair- And she is also like The Black Magician who is from Princess and the frog who I can't remember the name of- She becomes someone else if she uses dark magic too long at once! She loves soap operas and would die to see Phantom of the Opera live-

32) Lucas is a fun loving spider mink human hybrid! He is the son of Admiral Kizaru and My GFs OC Kasumi! He looks a lot like his dad but his personality is a little different! His hair is more curly and his a milk chocolate brown! He has four eyes but usually only uses the blue bottom eyes and keeps the red upper ones closed- He has elf like pointy ears and his dad's ridiculous lips- He has his eye brows too- But! he has his mom's fangs and eyes! He also has for slightly clawed arms and hands! He is just at perfect 6 feet! He uses swords and webs in battle that come from his hands like spiderman! He is calm but has many jokes and could be hiding anywhere- He is always smiling and tapping a foot to some song in his head- He loves his light peach orange uni pocket hoodie and his loose dark blue jeans with his converse-

16) Hes inspired by Kizaru of course and he is like a Rose Trantula kinda- More calm than most big spiders but still can and will fight you- He is also inspired clearly by spiderman! He also kinda reminds me of Whirl when he snaps- Or like IDW Drift when he gets Slicy dicey- He loves the old stuff like Ren and Stimpy and he still gets nightmare about "return the slaaaab" From Courts the cowardly dog-

32) Julie Ann is a pink haired girl with purple tips and is full of spunk and curse words- She has a thin mechanical arm after getting it blown of by her own inventions! She is smart and narcissistic but secretly fears being alone- She loves military boots and torn up rock shirts that are almost a little revealing thanks to the giant arm pit holes- she loves black leather pants and always has half her head shaved on the left while the right is just flying around! But she does have a piece perminantly braided in the front of her head on the right and it's a just a few inches passed her shoulders- She will fist fight god and walk backwards into hell with both birds up- she has sky blue eyes!

16) She is inspired By Julie Sue from the sonic comics! (The older stuff) and Eustass Kidd from one piece! She can be a lot like Braintsorm/ Whirl too- Shes a scary woman- Five Finger Death Punch and the all edgy verse of DC is her life-

32) Mel is A very shy GIANT Angler fish- I know in real life male anglers are tiny as hell but I really wanted a big shy man and Mel happened- Melvin is green with sea blue spike fins on his arms and back of his calfs! He has huge spike fin gills too but has learned to breath air over time- he has the little dangling trap from his forehead and has a combed over blue mohawk- He has big sharp teeth that poke out from his mouth in random places- his hands have blue webbing and so does his feet- His eyes are black and have gold squiggly irises- He is at a scary 7 feet 4 inches but he just wants hugs- This man cries when watching Endgame and Phantom of the Opera- He has a love for shirts that are just a little loose on him and loves jean shorts with sandles! He also loves crocs- Don't tease him he'll literally cry-

16) He is inspired actually by Ten from IDW and a bit of Endgame Hulk- He is also like inspired by Katakuri from One Piece! His sharp teeth from Kat and his body build is not quite as beefy as Hulk but he's kinda close honestly- He loves Steven Universe and the original Teen Titans! He squeals like a fan boy when ever he sees Beast boy-

32) Jake is happy smart mini Dobbie! He is the shortest standing at 4 feet 5 inches! He has a stub tail and a golden pirate ring piercing on his right ear! He has all the colors and looks of a dobbie he just smol- He loves to fix things and will growl if you poke to much fun at him- Ruby calls it 'Short man syndrom' and he hates it- He only wears blue torn up blue mean shorts- No shirt and no shoes- His eyes are bright bby boi sea blue! He loves head pats every now and then and loves bacon- You can kill this mans family and hell forgive you for 5 pounds of bacon- He blasts Wheezer and Gorillaz from his work shop at all times!

16) He is inspired by your typical tiny Dobbie! But he kinda looks like a mechanic version of Rewind- He is also inspired by an old friends dog who was named Jake! He doesn't watch much tv or movies but if he does its gotta Be Marvel- This man looks up to Tony Stark like a god and has an Iron man poster for modivation in his shop-

((I hope this isn't like too gross or annoying- Ive never mentioned any of my OCs- In fact i just forgot my main OC Lola- w o w- If you want stuff for her just let me know! I'll even try to find my old doodles and my gfs doodles if you want me to-))

[thewhiterabbit42]

Kibble

Pairing: Gabriel x reader Summary:  Sam and Dean ask Gabriel to cat sit for you, and it leads to a surprising discovery.   Request: @nobodys-baby-now  “What did you do to me?!” Word Count: 4885 (oops) Warnings/Tags: fluff, men acting cute with animals, confessed feelings, one soft archangel 

***Please do not repost, reproduce, or copy my work to any other site without my written permission.  Giving credit does NOT count.***

This was beneath him.  The archangel Gabriel, Messenger of God, a being so powerful he could snap entire countries off the map, was cat sitting.  Apparently, being part of Team Free Will put him on duties even the Winchesters wouldn’t deal with.

Pride aside, he was so not a cat person.  Dogs had always been his thing, with their goofy, lopsided smiles, and the way they’d wag their tails so hard their entire butt would shake whenever he returned.  His dad had really done the world a solid when he designed their lineage.  

Cats, on the other hand, had to have been one of Lucifer’s creations.   

The only reason he’d even agreed was because your name had come up in the conversation.  Something about it being yours and you being on a case.  At least that’s what he assumed.  He hadn’t really bothered with the details, and, to be honest, they didn’t matter, so long as he had the opportunity to score some brownie points with you.

Ok, so maybe he knew exactly what he was doing there.  Potential payoff or not, it didn’t make him any more enthused about spending the next however many days with your feline friend.

He stepped up to the railing, eyes scanning the bunker below.  He tilted his head, hands moving to his hips when he couldn’t see or hear a single sign of his new charge.  

“...Alright, you little bastard, where are you?”

***

He stood outside your bedroom, hovering at the threshold.  He tapped his chin thoughtfully.  Was going in without your permission because your furball had pulled a disappearing act technically an invasion of your privacy?  

Indecision kept him caught in a web of what ifs, until his thoughts began to wander to just how many other nights he had lingered.  Not in this spot, of course.  That would be creepy.  Within these walls.  Well beyond his welcome.  Hoping he’d receive a coveted invitation back to your room.  

It wasn’t about sex.  Not just about it anyway.  He already couldn’t refuse you much.  There’s no way if you dropped trou in front of him he’d remember the word no, let alone the English language, even existed.  It was the thought of you allowing him someplace no one else had ever been.  

At least, he assumed that was the case, given how much you valued your privacy.  

However, the problem still remained that he hadn’t found a single sign of your cat.  He almost considered just snapping you a new one, until he realized you’d probably murder him - or worse, exile him from your presence - because he lost your precious Mr. Meowmers.  Mittens?  Whiskers?  Regardless of whatever obnoxiously adorable thing you’d named it, he was so screwed if he didn’t find it.  

Maybe it was a prank.  Maybe all of you were on your way back, having a good laugh over his inevitable panic when he came up short one furball.  In a few hours you’d come strolling in, teasing him about stooping to pet duty before holding up some take-out and saying the only cat I invite into my life is from the Yum Mei Palace, dork.    

The frantic beating of a tiny heart suggested otherwise.  

He pushed through the door, ears straining for the source of the sound.  It was coming from the far corner, and as he peered through the darkness toward it, his brow immediately snaked up.  There, against the wall, was an abysmal sleeping situation that had to be too small for just about anything.  

At least he knew, without a doubt now, that no one was staying in that bed with you, unless they were the size of… well, a cat.  

He appeared next to the headboard, trying to figure out the best course of action.  Did he just get rid of the bed altogether, grab the thing, and hang around to see the look on your face when you came home to a California King and silk sheets?  

He shook his head.  You’d probably find a reason to shoot him over that.  

He’d have to think about it.  The bed that was.  The old-fashioned way probably worked fine for the cat.  He crouched down, making a clicking sound with his tongue as he tried to coax it out.  It scrambled along the carpet, an inaudible thump reaching his ears as it slammed into the wall, trying to escape.

“Easy, numbskull, I’m not going to hurt you”.  The response he received was a resounding hiss as he poked his head beneath the frame.  “Okay, then.  We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

It made no difference to him if the it was sedated until you came back.  Cat’s slept most of the day anyway, right?  What difference did a few extra hours make?

He reached for it, intent on dragging it out by the scruff of its neck, when he froze as the most pathetic sound reached his ears.

… was it crying?

Ah, shit.  That was not what he’d been expecting.  Cats were supposed to be stuck up little assholes who pushed drinks off tables and left hairballs in shoes, not terrified little masses capable of making such terrible noises.  

“Alright, alright you win,” he winced throwing his hands up in defeat as dropped down onto the floor.  “I’ll wait until you’re ready to come out.”

He scooted up against the wall, fishing his phone out of his pocket.  “Just had to be a cat person, didn’t you,” he muttered, loading up a game of Candy Crush.  

***

He lost track of how long it took for the furbrain to calm down.  It certainly took its sweet time easing out of panic mode into curiosity.  By the time it began to creep across the carpet, Gabriel was stuck on what might have been the worst level in the game yet.  He got so into it, he almost forgot about his charge, until a dainty black paw emerged, swiping at one of his shoelaces.  

He snorted, and the little limb made a hasty retreat.  “I’m not gonna hurt you, kibble.”

An indelicate meow reached his ears.  Was that offense he sensed from it’s peanut of a brain?  

“Yeah, well, what else would you be if you’re such a scaredy cat?”    

This time when the paw appeared, it went straight for his pant leg.  

He chuckled.  “I’m shaking in my boots.”  

He conjured a shoelace, dangling it closer to the bed in an attempt to draw it out.  It took several minutes of play to distract it, and when it finally pounced, Gabriel was surprised.  

“You’re just a little guy,” he realized, grabbing it by the back of its neck and gently dragging it out from beneath its cover.  It gave an indignant yowl, flipping itself around and exposing its stomach.

“Excuse me, girl,” he amended, watching her curl herself around his wrist and kick in an attempt to get free.  He scooped her up, the movement startling her and almost sending her fleeing back into her hiding spot.

“Hey, hey, hey, pumpkin, it's ok,” he soothed as she began to cry again, her small frame trembling in his large hands.  “I’m not going to hurt you, promise.”  

He released a calming burst of grace, cradling her against his him as he waited for the effects to take hold.  Once her fear had dissipated, she settled against him, an almost inaudible rumble starting in her chest as he gently stroked behind her ears.  

“See?  I’m not so bad.”

She let out a breathy mewl, as if unconvinced, eyes owlishly looking up at him.  

“Those are some peepers you have,” he commented.  They were remarkable in an animal, the blend of colors deviating from the normal yellowish hues most black cats had.  

She chuffed as if to say you’re full of it, head turning away where she buried it in her paws.  

Some personality as well.  

He was impressed.  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.  

***

He looked up from his phone as the pile of fur in his lap shifted.  Her back arched as tiny limbs gave a languid stretch.    

“Enjoy your cat nap?”  He asked, lips twitching in amusement.  She blinked, staring up at him as if just remembering his presence.  Her eyes narrowed shrewdly and, unless he was imagining it, wholly judgmentaly, of him and his pun.  “What?”

She rose, turning herself around with her nose in the air when she suddenly froze.  The hair along her spine stood on end, her claws springing out from between her toes and digging through denim.  

“Easy on the goods, squirt,” Gabriel warned, a little panicked as he pried her off the center of his jeans.  “What’s got you all in a tizzy?”

She let out a frantic meow, and he cupped her in his hands, nestling her against his chest.  She continued to stir, wide eyes looking around the room in alarm.  

“...have you not been in here yet?”  He questioned, inanely, as if expecting a response other than the way she tried to climb him like a tree.  “Woah - relax,” he hissed, her claws piercing the thin fabric of his shirt and catching his skin.  “I just moved us to more neutral territory.”  

He caught her by the scruff of the neck, delicately lifting her off him and turning her around before supporting her back paws with the palm of his hand.  “Kibble, this is the library.  While it can be a thing of evil in regards to the lack of fun it contains, I assure you, there’s nothing to be afraid of.  Library, meet the smallest, and arguably furriest, member of the Scooby gang.”  

Her ears went flat as he lowered her to the floor, small body backing up until it came in contact with his boot.  

“There will be none of that,” he insisted, nudging her forward before disappearing from the chair.  “You’re gonna end up scared of your own shadow the rest of your life if you don’t do something about it now.”  

He reappeared several feet away, instantly regretting his decision when an awful keening sound broke the silence.  

“For the love of - I’m here,” he waved his arms emphatically.  “Right.  Here.”

The noise stopped, delicate ears perking up as her head snapping toward his voice.  She made a dash in his direction, tripping over her paws in haste and becoming a bumbling wreck of ungraceful limbs.  She managed to stay upright until she reached him, one of her claws catching on the throw rug he was on, sending her sprawling at his feet.  

She blinked up at him, a little dazed.

“Not the most coordinated, eh?”  He crouched down, unsnagging her before he scooped her up again, bringing her eye level.  She walloped him on the nose, the tiny tap thankfully claw free, and his brow swept up with mirth.  “And feisty to boot.”  A thought crossed his mind as she began to chew on his thumb.  “Or are you just hangry?”

He received a pitiful noise in response, and dropped her back on her feet.

“Come on, Kibble.  Let’s go find you something other than me to sink your teeth into.”

He walked toward the door, pausing as he neared it to make sure she was following.  He watched her try to keep up with him, awkward gait stumbling every few steps.  At this rate, you and the Hardy boys would be returning well before he and the furbag made it anywhere near the kitchen.  

“Jeez, you really don’t know how to use those things yet, do you?”  He plucked her up from the ground, plopping her onto his shoulder.  “I know you know how to use these,” he tickled at one of the claws still hanging out on her back foot.  “So hang tight, and try not to fall off.  Your owner would literally tear me a new one if I broke anything on you.”

***

“Ooooooo-kay, then,” Gabriel said, brows furrowed as he closed the last of the cupboards.  There was no nothing.  No cans of cat food. No dry mix.  He couldn’t even find a single bowl or water dish for her.  

“You new in town, or what?”  He asked, leaning down on the countertop and playfully flicking the kittens tail.  It whipped back and forth a few times before she turned, attempting to pounce on his hand.  He pulled it away at the last second, dragging it down the length of the countertop and chuckling as she scrambled to catch up with it.  

“Sorry, but archangel is not on the menu tonight,” he said dryly, giving her a soft nudge once she caught him.  She lost her balance, flopping over onto her side, where she began to make a noise as if she were languishing away.    

“Drama queen, much?”  He stroked beneath her chin as he thought.  “Well, I have no idea what your standards are but I, for one, cannot stand what they try to pass off as food for you.” He made a face just thinking about how the smell lingered in his nostrils for hours.  “Which means you are in for a treat.”

He snapped his fingers, conjuring everything a cat might consider eating.  Everything from Roasts, whole chickens and turkeys, to a variety of fish appeared on a buffet line of tiny plates, every miniature version just the perfect size for her.  She licked her chops as the delicious smells wafting over her.  

“There,” he gave the bridge of her nose an affectionate rub.  “If you can’t find something appealing out of that lineup, you’re on your own.”  

***

“Don’t panic!”  He shouted, unsure who the command was directed at more: him or the animal practically running in circles.  Frantic little cries accompanied the frenzied equivalent of the feline’s pee dance.  Think, Gabriel, think… where would the litter box be?  

“Hey-ay-ay-ay!” He hissed, his back going rigid as she leapt onto it.  Tiny claws nicked skin as she scaled her way up onto his shoulder, paws swatting insistently at something behind him.  He craned his head, trying to figure out what she saw, only to find her batting away at thin air.  

“Yeah, not certain it’s the best moment for kitty crazy time, but whatever helps you keep your legs crossed.”  A desperate growl was his only response as she darted across his neck to the other side of him, repeating the motions.  

It took him another few seconds to realize she was trying to tell him something.  

“Angel, right,” he muttered, snapping a pan into existence as he snagged her off his shirt.  “Now, are you a fan of cedar chips or --”

The high-pitched snarl was enough for him to blink the standard contents into existence before tossing her in the center of it.  Her ears reared back, when he continued to stand there, her teeth bared in an indignant hiss.  

“... are you serious right now?”

The yowl was slightly less pitiful, but there was no mistaking the displeasure behind it.  

“Alright, alright, I’ll turn around,” he huffed placing his back to her and hearing her continue to make noises under her breath.   

***

He was running out of ideas on what to do.

He had regaledher, in detail, of many of his past adventures, and embarked on some of their own in an attempt to get her familiar with the bunker.  The library had practically become a kitty paradise with ramps, scratching posts, and all sorts of perches to explore.  Toys littered the building from one end to the other, and at one point he had even conjured live game, though his charge had seemed less enthused with those.

“Pretty certain it’s supposed to be the other way around.”  Wryness tugged at the corner of his mouth, eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched her leap off the floor to safety while a mouse scurried past her feet.  He laughed, smoothing the hair down along her spine before snapping the rodent back out of existence.  “And I’m pretty certain your owner has the same problem, so you better work on that now if you don’t want to find yourself out in the cold.”

He picked her up, scratching affectionately along her cheek so she wouldn’t mistake his teasing for an actual ultimatum.  She responded by rubbing against him, contentment radiating into his fingertips through the vibration of her loud purr.  

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he said, holding her close as he flew them to the den.  He dropped back onto the couch, settling her on top his chest as he reached for the remote.  She seemed content enough to lay down, her eyes glancing toward the tv as he turned it on.

“Now, what should we watch?

***

Gabriel inhaled, letting out a deep sigh and jostling the dark pile of fur on top of him.  All he could find was sappy romantic comedies and bad sci-fi flicks, the latter of which weren’t nearly as good without you there.  Little limbs stretched forward, paws hitting his chin.

“Why can’t it be as easy as it is in the movies?”  He grumbled.  She cracked an eye, head tilting curiously as he ran a finger along the back of her ear.  She stood up, body giving a quick jiggle from head to tail as if shaking off her sleepiness, before sitting.  Casually, she started grooming her paws as if he hadn’t just admitted something embarrassingly vulnerable.  

Then again, he wasn’t sure what else he expected from a cat.  

“It’s all the same thing.  Boy meets girl.  Boy saves girl.  Boy and girl bond over harrowing experience, and BAM.  Happily ever after.  But has she ever look at me any differently?”

The kitten stopped what she doing, ears twitching as he continued.  “How many times have I saved her?  How many monsters have I fought with her?  How many horrible movies have I watched because that’s what she likes?”

The cat gave the beginnings of an indignant growl.  

“They are horrible.  Just wait until she makes you sit through one,” he insisted.  “I’ve asked her out on countless dates to every place imaginable.  Paris.  Rome.  Bora Bora.”  The kitten lost her balance, his entire body moving as he gestured emphatically while he spoke.  “I’ve done everything I can think of to show her I’m interested.  I bring her favorite treats.  I take her for terrible takeout.  I try to go places above two stars, but it’s like she doesn’t think she deserves anything better…”

He stared up at the ceiling, missing the way the cat’s eyes grew wider and wider.  

“I wish she understood how beautiful she was.”  You were attractive, sure, but the kind he was talking about went deeper than that in a way that had become increasingly rare over the last century.   

He sighed again, frustration switching to heavier sentiments.  “Maybe it’s for the best.  All I’ve is screw things up.  Why would this be any diff--”

Two paws landed squarely on top of his lips, his small companion practically pouncing on his mouth.  He glanced down at her, and she looked just as surprised by her movements before she began to yowl at him.  

If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she’d understood what he was saying.  Maybe she did, on an instinctual level.  Animals were good at picking up on things humans often missed.   

He flicked her feet aside.  “Don’t worry about it, Kibble.  I’ll be fine.”  

She walked forward repeatedly rubbing herself against the side of his face before slinking beneath his chin.

“At least one of you is sweet on me,” he said, nuzzling against soft fur as she curled up against him once more.

***

He didn’t often sleep.  Boredom (and if he was honest, moping) were often the cause of him switching off for a few hours.  Dreaming while asleep?  Even rarer.  

He couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to be having one of you.  He could feel the warmth of your body spanning his.  You were laying on top of his chest, head tucked beneath his chin, your legs nestled between his in a way he could only, well, dream of.  

He reached up, fingers slipping through your hair as they gently stroked through tousled strands.  He wondered what you would be wearing.  Would it be one of your old t-shirts?  Maybe one of those strappy tank tops you preferred in the summer?  Or maybe he’d finally find you in the soft flannel pajamas he bought you last Christmas.  

His free hand stirred, fingertips trailing down along your spine, and what he found had him biting back an instantaneous reaction.  

Nothing.  You were wearing nothing.   

So, it was going to be one of those dreams.  

He took his time, tracing tiny circles down your back, enjoying the simple contact of his fingertips moving freely upon your skin.  He got as far as your waist before you made the most intriguing noise.  It was almost a cross between a soft sigh and a purr.

You’ve officially spent too much time with that furball.

The thought dissipated as you began to awaken.  You arched your spine, the curve of your backside easing up along with your shoulders.  The cutest, sleep-laden sound slipped past your lips, eyes fluttering as you tried to blink the sleep from them.  

“Gabe?”  Your voice was thick, raspy, as if you’d been asleep for days.  “I… where…”  You raised your head up in confusion.  A chill blossomed across your skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.  Your eyes widened, glancing down the front of you, and the moment they met his gaze again he knew he was in trouble.

He also knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was definitely not asleep.  

“What did you do to me?!”  You hissed, accusation flooding your tone.  

His stare matched your own, panic shooting through his veins.  

“What? I - I didn’t --”  He met your burning stare and his jaw dropped.  Your eyes.  Not just the color of them, but the shape.  They were slightly distorted, the irises just a hair too oblong, the pupils too sharp along the top and bottom.

Oh shit.  

He immediately snapped up a blanket, watching you clutch it around yourself before scrambling back toward the opposite end of the couch.

Father, he was such an idiot.  

Your stare suddenly widened, burning accusation snuffed out as you pawed at your ear, your face, down the front of you, before you took an anxious glance down your back.  

“What the hell, Gabriel?!”  You demanded, your cheeks a shade of red he’d never seen before.

He put his hands up defensively in front of him.  “Now wait just a minute --”

“Don’t even,” you warned, and if you were capable of killing him with your bare hands, you might have in that moment.  

Your tone suggested even if you couldn’t, you might still try.  “You turned me into a cat!”

His phone interrupted the quickly snowballing catastrophe, buzzing along the floor and belting out the Winchesters’ ringtone.

It’s the end of the world as we know it

It’s the end of the world as we know it

“I should probably -” he flinched at the look of pure murder that flashed through your gaze.  “... get this.”  

It’s the end of the world as we know it...

He snapped, putting the call on speakerphone, where Dean didn’t even give him the chance to answer.  “We ganked the witch and destroyed the doll-cat-whatever-thing, which should have ended the spell.  How is she?”

His lips twitched, unable to stop the sarcastic remark from flying out of them.  “Looking a lot like she just got her tail yanked.  Minus the tail.”  

“... just the tail?”  Dean asked, confused.  

You finally hit your limit.  “Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?”  

***

He didn’t blame you for needing some time.  Transformative magic could be rather disorienting.

He could hear your movements from where he sat in the kitchen, playing with the greek coin he’d picked up centuries ago.  He tapped it against the table, listening to the water run in the shower attached to your bedroom.  

As the only female, you were the one the boys had given the bedroom that obviously was reserved for the head honcho.  It was the only one with it’s own bathroom attached, a luxury that had saved him building you your own wing so you wouldn’t have had to share the communal showers with the rest of the occupants.  

He listened to your footsteps as they padded back across your bedroom, likely finding something to wear.  You lingered, all sounds stopping save the even in and out of your breath and the steady, if not a little elevated, beat of your heart.  

By the time you emerged, he’d begun spinning the coin across the tabletop, the slightly uneven ridge causing it to spiral out in an ever widening circle.  You paused at the threshold, lingering longer than was normal.  A tension blossomed in that short moment, one that tingled across the distance between the two of you.  

“God, I hate witches,” you muttered, leaning against the doorframe.  He wondered what he’d see if he looked up at you.  He could already tell that things had changed.    

He wasn’t certain he was ready to see how much had just yet.

Whump.  He slapped his hand down onto the table, smothering the coin before picking it up again.  He put it back on its unstable course, a little too vigorous with the send off, causing it to bounce with a tat-tat-tat.  “So.  You were…”   

From the corner of his eye he watched you run a nervous hand through your hair.  

“A cat?  Yeah.”

Whump.

“Right.” He cleared his throat, unsure of what else to say.  He had spent the last two days being the biggest sap.  Lugging a kitten around.  Doting on it.  Snuggling with it every chance he got.  

Not it.  You.  

Tat-tat-tat.

“How much do you remember?”  Nope.  No awkwardness here.  Everything was status quo.  Business as usual.  Casual, casual, casual.  

Whump.

You finally moved, slowly making your way toward him.

Tat-tat-tat.

“I dunno,” your brow furrowed as you rubbed at your face.  “I’m - it’s a little…”

Whump.

You paused near the table, searching for the right word.  

“Fuzzy?”  He supplied.

Your mouth dropped open, and for a moment he expected to be booted straight from the bunker.  

“Shut up.”  You were caught between amusement and anger, failing to hold back a smile as you thwacked him soundly on the arm.  “God, you’re such a dork.”  

His lip curled in response.  “Sorry?”  

You snorted, side eyeing him as you made your way to the fridge.  “No you’re not,” you told him, pulling open the door and grabbing a beer from inside.

He wasn’t, but that was because he couldn’t be sorry about anything that made your face light up that way.

“Guilty,” he shrugged.  A thick silence fell between you.  It was distinct; the first in so long he couldn’t remember.  Mostly because the last time it had happened he’d gotten drunk, miscalculated the flight, and landed straight on your motel bathroom floor… while you were showering.  

But he tried extra hard to forget that night never happened.    

He tapped the coin on top of the table, eyes dropping back to the metal where he gripped it tight.  “... I really didn’t know it was you.”

You nodded, and this time it was your turn to look somewhere else other than at him.  It only confirmed what he suspected: you remembered.  Everything.

Well, it had been nice while it lasted.  

“So.  What now?”  Even as he asked, he prepared himself for the excuses.  Which one would it be?  There were so many, and as much as he’d like to think none of them fit the type of person you were, there was always an excuse with him.  

“Well…”  You moved beside him, waiting for him to look up at you; ever the coward, he found it impossible, his stare riveted on the coin he’d always thought of as lucky until this moment.  

“I’m not really feeling up for Bora Bora yet, but… maybe we could start by watching some more terrible movies?”

His forehead wrinkled, eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out if he’d heard you correctly.  You reached forward, hand tentatively brushing over his.  The contact had sparks shooting through him, short circuiting his mind in conjunction with his surprise until there wasn’t anything he could do but stare at the fact you were touching him instead of running in the opposite direction.

“Figured we could start with something easy.  If you’re still interested, that is.”  You bit your lip, confidence faltering as he remained frozen in place.  Tense seconds inched onward, and it took your eyes muting in preparation to retreat to finally jump start his brain again.  

“Depends,” he said, linking his fingers through yours before you could pull them away.  “Will you still sit in my lap and let me stroke you?”

He finally looked up, and the smile that splashed across your features was one he hadn’t seen before. It was as shy as it was bold, and he brought your hand to his chest, drawing you closer in the process.  

“Play your cards right, feathers, and maybe you’ll get your belly scratched this time.”  

Still a few more things planned for Octoberfest.  Don’t miss out!  

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[its-clementime]

That Something : Part 2

Title: That Something: Part 2

Pairing : Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 1897 words

Summary: Clementine has a chill day with AJ until some unexpected news causes her to make a decision.

Previous Part Next Part

A/N yes Lee ughh I love him :)

Part 2:

Clementine woke up to the sound of sirens instead of her alarm. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up in her bed. She saw AJ, still sound asleep. “At least he can get his beauty sleep,” she thought, smiling to herself. She got up and shuffled around the tiny apartment, going to the kitchen. As she was putting toaster waffles in the toaster, she heard a little voice. “Clem?”

She turned around to see AJ, in his disco broccoli pajamas.

“Hey, AJ” She stopped for a second to embrace him and ruffle his lil’ afro. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping in? It’s summer after all.”

“I want to be up with you. Can we go to the park today?” He gazed at Clem

“Hmmm,” Clem faked thinking about it, putting a hand to her chin “I’m not sure.”

“Pleeeaase?” AJ went up on his tippy toes and pouted his lips.

Clementine giggled, “Okay, I’ll ask Lee, and if he says I can we’ll go after you finish your breakfast.” She got a plate and laid out 2 toaster waffles for AJ. “Bon Appetit, Goofball.”

Lee opened the door to his room, “Ya’ll know I can hear you, these doors aren’t that thick.” he took a seat at the tiny table in the kitchen, still in his Janitorial uniform.

“I thought you would’ve been asleep, you had a long shift yesterday.” Clem added.

Lee sighed “Well, I have a longer one today. But you guys enjoy yourselves, go to the park.”

Clem looked to AJ, “Get dressed, we’ll go soon then.”

“Ok!” AJ excitedly went into their room.

Clem looked at Lee. “I’ll make some coffee.” She started scooping coffee grounds.

“Thanks, Sweetpea.”

“Lee,” Clem took a breath, “I know you don’t want me to, but I know I’m old eno-”

“You’re not getting a job.” Lee cut her off, “You’re young, you need to focus on school. And you do have a job, you take care of AJ.”

“AJ is going to school soon. I just want to help out.” Clem admitted, “I feel bad, Lee. You took us off the streets, for no reason! I mean, we’re not related but you cared for us anyway!” She sputtered. “I just want to earn it.”

Lee sighed, “Clem, you deserved to be adopted and you deserve to be cared for. You don’t have to do anything to deserve it.”

Clem hugged Lee, “I guess you’re right. I’m sorry for arguing, it’s just- I wish you wouldn’t be exhausted over us.”

Lee patted her head. “For you, it’s all worth it sweetpea. Go out and enjoy the park.”

Clem smiled at Lee, “I will.” She turned to her and AJ’s room. “AJ! C’mon it’s time to go!”

“Coming! AJ popped out of the room and darted to the front door.

“Let’s go then.” Clem said while ushering AJ through the door, putting her hat on as she stepped out the door. “Bye Lee!”

The city of Galeview was huge. Clementine and AJ lived in the rough side of town, while only a few short miles away, the city’s elite lived in luxury. Galeview was also where Ericson Prep was located.

Clementine loved her city, but since AJ was with her today, she’d stick to the safer streets. Usually, when she was alone after school, Clementine would explore a different part of the city; she’d roam the streets just because she could. Visiting her favorite hole in the wall places, such as a rooftop with an abandoned greenhouse with the best view of the city, or a skate park hidden inside a junkyard. She loved the city because she knew everyone, but was always a stranger. Everyone was going through a struggle, and there was a type of unity with the people in these derelict places.

There was one place that she found where she was actually known, and that was the Garcia Family Restaurant, where she had visited every day after trying their burgers. Eventually she became buds with the staff, the Garcias were just people she genuinely liked (she would secretly work there from time to time, waitressing or flipping burgers). She especially hit off with Gabe, playing cards in the back with him sometimes. They walked past the small, yet well maintained building, Clementine waving to Mariana and Javier who were cleaning the windows.

Eventually, they made it to the richer side of town, where AJ’s favorite park was. It had a nice swing set that even Clem enjoyed using, one in a while.

Clem was pushing AJ on the swings when he asked her, “Clem, is kindergarten fun?”

“Yes, it is AJ, and you’ll get to make new friends.”

“Why do I need new friends? I have you.” He grinned.

Clementine giggled, “AJ, you can have more than one friend. Some people say it’s good for you.”

AJ turned his head, “Clem, do you have a lot of friends?”

Clem stopped pushing AJ, letting gravity do its thing. “I have friends when it matters.” In all honesty, Clem had been a loner until she met AJ, who was for the most part her only friend. It’s not that she couldn’t make friends with people, she just never found it necessary. People at her school were cordial and all, but nobody really made an impression on her. She had other things to focus on anyway.

Clem and AJ walked home, taking a minute to stop inside the Garcia Restaurant. Javier waved them to the bar seating, where he was cleaning glasses. The restaurant was a nice Cuban/American food joint, with burgers and fries plantains and everything in between. The store was a classic diner design with Latin flare, little lights and Cuban flags around the store. A baseball game played on an old-school block tv in the back.

“Hey Clem, AJ. Coming back from the park?” Javier asked, putting his towel over his shoulder

“Yeah, AJ here wanted to see the new tire swings they put in.” Clem replied, helping AJ sit on a stool.

“Wow, must be nice to have improvements in their neighborhood. We have more craters on this street than Mars I’m pretty sure.” Javier pulled out 2 glasses. “You guys want a drink? It’s on the house.”

AJ nodded, and Clem replied, “Thanks.” It was a hot August day and even though the park was fun, it was pretty hot after a while.

Javier poured their drinks, “Apple juice for AJ and classic H2O for Clem.”

Clem asked with a suspicious smile, “Javi, why are you being so particularly kind to us today?”

“Okay, you got me.” Javi admitted, leaning onto the bar “I need a favor, Gabe’s gotten through summer school okay, but he really needs a tutor for math.”

“Oh?” Clem swirled her drink with her straw “Why do you think I’m smart enough to do it?”

“Don’t play dumb, Clem. We know you were in the top 5 percentile in your class. Gabe’s in your class and he sees you getting all those accolades.” Javi replied. He wasn’t wrong, Clem was extremely gifted in math and science. It was something she kept to herself though, she preferred to spend her time skateboarding and exploring instead of doing homework.

Javi added “Gabe’s a good student, and we’ll pay you.”

Clem thought for a minute, “Sure, that sounds pretty cool." This could be a job Lee might be okay with, since its school involved.

AJ, finishing his apple juice, asked Javier “What are accolades?”

“It’s another word for rewards, like trophies and ribbons, you get an accolade when you do something right; like for Clem, she got the highest match score in her class.”

“Oh.” AJ thought “Can I get one?”

Javi smiled, “Yeah, here’s an accolade, just for you.” He turned around and gave AJ a chocolate bar from the register.

Clem smiled “Thanks Javi, get Gabe to text me the tutoring details, but it’s about time me and AJ got home.”

Clem opened the apartment door, AJ running under her arm to their room to go play with his disco Broccoli. She saw Lee at the kitchen table.

“Lee. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

He looked up to Clem, almost startled. “I stopped by for my lunch break.” He looked confused. “Clementine, did you apply for a scholarship to Ericson Prep?” He showed his hand, holding an envelope with a fancy emblem, addressed from the office of scholarship admissions.

Clem’s jaw dropped, she remembered filling out a little application in her email, but she sure as hell didn’t think it would mean anything. “I totally forgot about that. What does it say?” She didn’t understand why she asked. As if it mattered.

Lee’s hands had a slight shake as he opened the letter, his eyes scanning the paper as he murmured, reading it to himself. Suddenly his eyes opened to the size of dinner plates.

“CLEMENTINE! YOU GOT IN! WITH A FULL SCHOLARSHIP!” Lee yelled, with enthusiasm and vigor Clem hadn’t seen in a long time. AJ peeked out the door from curiosity.

“That’s great, but that doesn’t change anything.” Clem replied nonchalantly

“What do you mean? You’re going to Ericson. Do you know how many doors this opens for you Clementine? You could be able to pursue anything you want!” Lee embraced her. “I’m so proud of you sweetpea, you’ve worked so hard.”

Clem shrugged of Lee’s embrace. “Do you think I could even survive with all those spoiled brats that go to Ericson? I’d be crucified. Plus, I don’t think I could keep up with them.” She had a tightlipped expression. “I’m not a part of that world.”

Lee looked at her seriously, “Clem, this could change your life forever, don’t let reasons like those hold you back.”

AJ came out of his room to find out what was going on. Clem looked at him, she saw his cute little curious expression; she noticed the tears in his jeans and how worn his little shoes were. She then looked around the kitchen, the bleak wooden cabinets, the half-working AC unit in the window, and that’s when she realized.

This wouldn’t just change her life. This would Change AJ’s life, and Lee’s. If she was able to work her way out, she could make it so that AJ could have a Christmas, and Lee could stop working himself to death. Heck, she could finally get a proper haircut instead of having Lee as a stylist.

Clem turned to Lee smiling, “I guess I’m going to Ericson Prep.” she had tears in her eyes after realizing her opportunity.

She hugged Lee and pulled AJ into it too.

AJ looked to Clem with a quizzical expression, “What’s going on?”

She wiped her tears. “We just got the best accolade a person could get. We’re getting a second chance.”

Clem went to her room and pulled a suitcase out from under her bed, it had been a while, almost ten years since she last used it. The same suitcase she had when she finally left her foster home, she was bringing to Ericson.

Clem took a deep breath and pulled out her phone. “Hey, uh Javi? I won’t be able to take that tutoring job after all, I’ll be occupied.” “What will I be doing?” She smiled, putting her hat in the suitcase.

“I just got my second chance.”

A/N Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please reblog! :)

I’ll update soon

[buttercupsfrocks]

Hey, Tumblr, did you know that there’s an Interior Design Police as well as a Fashion Police?! Strangely neither did I until I stumbled upon a listicle entitled 75 Things No Woman Over 50 Should Own on the delusionarily titled bestlifeonline.com. There, along with the usual arbitrary selections of sartorial crimes against humanity, (tracky bottoms, skinny scarves, bolero jackets), were the following:-

Tapestries. (What, even if one designed and made them oneself, comme ça?)

Neon signs.

A piggy bank.

Novelty salt and pepper shakers, (Oops!)

A vinyl tablecloth. 

Novelty pillows. (Dang!)

A rolodex.

Indoor wicker furniture.

A lava lamp. (Who doesn’t love a lava lamp? Not this fully paid up B52s fan, I can assure you).

A dish of seashells.  (D’oh! Missed the memo again).

Framed autographs (yep, got one of those too).

Talk about random. And there’s more; much more. It appears I should have jettisoned my giant pin boards at least twenty years ago, along with my magnifying mirror, stuffed animals, coloured pens, fairy lights, frameless posters, cheap mismatched silverware, decorations based on cartoon characters, mismatched towels, striped wallpaper, tassels, and elaborate keychains. (They’d have a blue fit if they knew that one of my keychains has both a twiddly fake key and a tassel on it). In fact the entire website is little more than an endless litany of stuff you should feel ashamed about owning, wearing, and in some cases, even saying. Like I totes can’t say “totes” – me, a writer, who loves slang so much she has at least a bookshelf-and-a-half dedicated to it. I also can’t say: “OMG”,  “humblebrag”, “talk to the hand”, “fauxpology”, “sorry not sorry”, “I can’t even”, “as if”, “sus”, (a term in common UK parlance among people of all age groups for the duration of my lifetime), “ship”, (fuck you; Spuffy forever), and…wait for it…”adulting”, even though I plainly know a good deal more about doing it than the embarrassingly embarassable twelve year old ninny who probably wrote the article.

And still on the subjects of lists that give me the right royal pip, there’s thelist.com. 

“If you are familiar with Dr Martens, you are too old to wear them.” 

I’m sorry, what now?! 

“We know those Crocs and orthopaedic shoes are super comfy, but they're not doing you any favours. There's something to be said for smart, sensible footwear, but you don't have to sacrifice your style and give away your age just to save yourself a few blisters”.

Unless of course you suffer with any kind of condition that dictates you  have to wear fugly orthopaedic footwear, as numerous older people do. And blisters are the least of my problems, bub. Believe me the bunting and party hats come out when I can persuade anything approaching normal-looking footwear to accommodate my orthotics. Doc Martens are one of the precious few options available to me. I am, incidentally, feeling especially “salty” (another word my age precludes me from using), about this right now as, having discovered I can sometimes wear sandals with a moulded orthotic-like sole, these Office sandals... 

...which I genuinely love and desperately wanted to rock this summer, damn near crippled me when I tried them on. 

For all the blather about older women being able to cast off the shackles of convention and wear what we please, (or whatever the expert du jour thinks is within reason), the same unspoken assumptions that prevail in mainstream ladymedia are present in spades on these websites. Nobody reading could possibly be fat, or if they are they’re assumed to be fighting their poor beleaguered bodies unto death. The only chub ever alluded to, (albeit soto voce), is “middle aged spread”, but only the vestigial kind that can be miraculously rendered  invisible by the belting of an “unflattering” oversized garment in the middle. 

“Show off your curves by adding a cute belt to that dress or coat. It will accentuate your shape and let you still wear those comfortable items in your wardrobe without looking like you're wearing a muumuu.”

Never mind that I quite like wearing a muumuu, far from showing off my curves, belting any of my coats would make me look like the Albert Hall, which while undoubtably a Look, is not one I’m after.  

“Balance is important when it comes to crafting a stylish look. Wearing oversized clothing disrupts that delicate equilibrium and unintentionally ages you.”  

What. Ever. 

The hectoring never lets up. 

“There really is no such thing as grown up glitter when it comes to apparel, so it's best to accept that fact and avoid glittery tops, bottoms, and everything else!” 

“Dressing like the '80s or '90s can be fun for a party, but being attached to a trend from your youth can look tired and disconnected and therefore can make one age themselves.” 

“Large prints, especially on a tight clothing item like leggings, are an avoid-at-all-costs look. They are just too loud and aren't a piece that helps you look your best”

Among the ten items everyday.health.com bans me from wearing on account of my encroaching dotage are “too trendy denim”. Apparently I’m “not in my element” with it so my hard work was all for nought. Also verboten are oversized, overly decorated hobo bags, cheap unflattering underwear; (fat chance of finding cheap underwear in plus-sizes anyway though apparently I should do like the Sainted Gwyneth and wear Spanx under everything. Because she totally needs to and I so enjoy colic); and…wait for it…wait for it...  

...“loud accessories”. This includes, horror of horrors, plastic earrings, which apparently I forfeited the right to wear at 35. (Do they count vintage phenolic, bakelite, and lucite as plastic I wonder? Because if enough rich older women get dissuaded from wearing it I might actually be able to afford some instead of faking it). Instead I’m exhorted to make a... 

“Stunning Substitute: think quality and quantity. Limit yourself to one funky accessory per outfit – as long as it’s well-made. Think a leopard-print scarf, thin silver bangles or a gold clutch to dress up nice jeans and a simple top”. 

Yeah, no. And, by the way here’s a picture of Helen Mirren in quite the loudest plastic necklace I’ve ever seen which, as you can plainly see, ages her terribly. 

*snort*

Which brings me neatly to the subject of role models. Dame Helen comes up a lot. Here’s Harper’s Bazaar with some more:

“Pay close attention to the way women like Robin Wright, Julianne Moore, and Kristin Scott Thomas dress. And revel in the moment when you can justify shopping for labels like Céline, Calvin Klein, Jil Sander, and the Row — because not all sweaters are created equal. The Perfect Length (not too long, not Rihanna short), with the just-tantalizing-enough neckline, is more than worth the extra zeros”.  

Wow. So much nope to pick apart in just three sentences! 

Firstly, while I’m sure they’re all perfectly charming, I look nothing at all like any of these women, so why would I aspire to their style? Secondly, they have allllllll the extra zeros in their bank accounts while I have zero zeros. Thirdly, even if I could afford any of those labels, (a sweater from The Row costs well over a thousand quid by the way), why the love of little fluffy kittens would anyone think I want to dress like this?

I mean I know I like an oversized garment but I’m good with Monki, thanks. If that lot doesn’t say, “this was the only shit I could find to fit me”, I don’t know what does. And quite what the tiny, terminally haggard looking Olsen twins, who dreamed up the wretched label, would look like in any of this eye-bleedingly expensive folderol I shudder to think. You’d probably need to send in the fire brigade to find them in all that fabric, poor loves.

At its root shaming-as-entertainment is a tool for capitalism, both simple and complex. Feel mortified for owning something age inappropriate? Buy something new and more grown up, preferably at enormous expense. Or, if pay day’s too far off, invest in some garbage gossip rag and bitch about the state of those richer and more famous than you are. It’ll make you feel great for all of five minutes, then you can fill the emptiness that follows in its wake with some cheap fast fashion or cake. Even though cake is naughty and unclean and fast fashion is killing the environment; but hey that’s what diet books (kerching!) and gym memberships (kerching!) and ethical fashion, (with a cut-off size of 16), are for, right? 

Ironically, in yet another catalogue of grievous mistakes to make once you’re over forty, bestlifemyarse.com includes “neglecting your mental health” and “basing yourself-worth on what other people think”. But how the hell are women expected to do that under a constant barrage of opprobrium, not least since also included in the aforementioned list is “avoiding the scale”?

Tumblr, I put it to you that people are just as likely to buy stuff if they’re feeling good about themselves than if they’re feeling shite. I fucking love stuff but there has to be an alternative way to sell it that’s less damaging to our sanity and self esteem. That’s in part why fat women created their own media. But, the more it edges into the mainstream, the more it it puts the wind up advertisers and those who rely on their sponsorship. So now our message – the one about self acceptance and being able to live unrepentantly in the bodies we have – has been appropriated, de-fanged, and rebranded as “Body Positivity”, an ersatz movement intended to reassure average-sized women fretful they might be a little bit fat, with the added proviso, “as long as you’re healthy”, (i.e not fat). And while the net abounds with token examples of older lady bloggers granted the status of fashion maven, they’re all slender as reeds, and most of them are ex-models. Big fucking whoop. Meanwhile anyone of any age who is objectively fat is “promoting obesity” simply by expressing our personal style in public.

My collection of shells incidentally, includes some my mum brought me back from the Channel Islands when I was a child; a conch a friend dove for  in the Virgin Islands and presented me for my 19th birthday; several beauties that held pride of place in a late family friend’s study for decades; an abalone shell from New Zealand plucked from the beach by my Kiwi pal Di; a sand dollar from Ocean Beach in San Francisco given to me by my dear friend Jude who died of secondary breast cancer a few months before Jane did; some pebbles gathered with my friend Lesley in literal sub-zero temperatures on a completely deserted beach one not-so-flaming June up north, both of us in hysterics over the utter bleakness of it all, and a load more shells from the Pembrokeshire coast contributed by my friend Steve’s departed mum back in the 1980s. Even the bowl itself was given to me by Karen, whose parents found it in the attic of their new house and thought I might like it. It’s a veritable a lifetime in shells; a celebration of love and friendship spanning decades. In short it has meaning, which is a damned sight more than you can say for any of these wretched lists.

Rise above the buzzkill, Tumblr.

[writersinhats]

MHA X Marvel

Chapter 3: girls night out

*warning minor manga spoilers*

Izuku and Ochako got dressed in their hotel room, however they were getting dressed for different things, Ochako was slipping into a slim black dress, it's not what she normally wears, but it was perfect for tonight, and it showed off her figure quite nicely, she also put her hair up, and wore make up, Izuku on the other head was putting on normal street clothes of jeans and a t-shirt, he was also putting his hero costume in a duffel bag. "Hey could you help me with the zipper" asked Ochako "sure no problem" replies Izuku as he walked over to his girlfriend, as he zipped up the back of her dress, he couldn't help but admire her back, her smooth skin, he shoulder blades, even the scars she had from work, it didn't matter that she didn't like them, he loved every inch of her, scars and all. When he finished she turned around to see him face to face to "thanks babe" she then kissed him and went to go grab her jacket "it's no problem" replied Izuku "now we should get going" as Ochako put her jacket on Izuku grabbed his duffle bag and they both left the room together. As they rode the elevator Ochako felt a little bit of concern for her boyfriend "are you sure you don't want to come? I'm sure the girls wouldn't mind you coming along" "no it's fine" said Izuku "Spider-Man, asked me to go on a patrol with him, so you just have fun" "ok" said Ochako but she still looked a little sad "I'll be fine" ensured Izuku "by the way, you look beautiful" this put a smile of her face "thank you" the doors opened, and the couple entered into the lobby, they saw Mina Ashido, Tsuyu Asui, and Toru Hagakure, all waiting in the lobby, all of them dressed up just as nicely as Ochako "Ochako there you are" said Mina as she Tsu and Toru all walked up to Ochako all of them taking turns hugging her "girls it's been to long" said Ochako "I'm so glad you guys could make it" "yeah it's been so long sense we all had weekend off together" said Toru "and seeing as you are already here, we decided to take this girls weekend global" "oh Midoriya are you joining us too" said Tsu "no I'm going on patrol" said Izuku "I just came to see Ochako off, anyway I've got to go, I'll see you later honey" Izuku and Ochako quickly kissed and then Izuku walked towards the door "I love you, have fun" "I love you too, please be safe" "I will" and with that Izuku exited and turned the corner, Ochako continued to stare at the spot where he was, at least until she realized that the other girl where looking at her with teasing eyes "you lllllloooooovvvvveee him" said Mina in a playful tone "shut up" said Ochako in a also playful tone "hey remember when we use to tease you about this little crush of your, back in school" said Mina "yeah I know and it was embarrassing, anyway what did you girls have planned tonight?" “Well" replied Tsu "we got tickets to a show, and then we're all gonna get dinner at a nice restaurant" "no way all that" replied Ochako "you guys aren't doing all this for me right" "well kinda" replied Mina "it's true that we haven't hung out together in a while so we are going big for that, but also it's kinda a little celebration for something else" "what?" Asked Ochako to answer her question Toru lifted up her invisible hand to reveal a diamond ring, Ochako gasped with excitement "no way, Ojiro proposed" "yes he did replied Toru "how, why, when did this happen?" "It was like two days after you and Midoriya left, he took us to our first date spot, and he said something about the job is dangerous, he doesn't want to spend another day without me, and then he purposed, it was super romantic" "I'm so happy for you" "yep which mean that this is a pseudo bachelorette party" said Mina "we'll get all the girls together and have a real party later" "alright sounds fun" said Ochako "now what are we waiting for let's get out and have fun."

Izuku made it to the address for Spider-Man's office, but Izuku felt a bit confused because it wasn't so much an office as it was an apartment building, Izuku pulled out his phone and called Spider-Man, after a few rings he answered "hello" said Spider-Man "Hey Spider-Man, it's me Deku, I was wondering if you gave me the right address, I'm here but I don't see any office here just an apartment building" "oh yeah that's it go to 325 I'll see you soon" Spider-Man man hung up leaving Izuku still as confused as ever. Izuku made it to 325 but looking the door it didn't look any different than any of the other doors he had seen on the way up there, he knocked on the door, he heard a thud on the other side, the door opened and there to greet him was not who Izuku expected, standing there was an older man in his 30s, he had messy brown hair with grey shades on the sides of his head, he had a five o'clock shadow and he was in desperate need of a shave, but as soon as he spoke Izuku recognized him "Hey Deku welcome to my home" "Sp-Spider-man" said Izuku "please there’s no need to be so formal, call me Peter, now come on in, my wife's almost got dinner ready." Peter lead Izuku into a surprisingly nice, apartment, it wasn't extravagant, but it was definitely nicer and bigger than the one bedroom he and Ochako stayed in back in Japan, as they walked more into apartments Izuku saw a red headed women working in the kitchen, "hey honey" said Peter "our guest is here" the women turned around and Izuku noticed just how beautiful she was, "oh you must be Izuku, welcome, I'm Mary Jane, but most people call me MJ" she held out her hand and spoke Izuku’s hand "it's a please to meet you mam," "now then" said Peter "let's get ready to eat" Peter poked his head around the corner of a hallway "may" yelled Peter "it's time to eat" out of one of doors a little girl with brown hair came running toward Peter "Daddy" yelled the Girl "there’s my little monkey" said Peter as he knelt down and picked up May, after he stood up with May in tow he turned around "May this is Izuku, he's gonna be joining us for dinner, say hi may" "hi" said May "Hello" said Izuku in response "Izuku this is my daughter May" "it's a pleasure to meet you May" said Izuku "how old are you?" May held up five fingers "I'm five" at this Izuku's heart started to melt "so cute" he thought. A few minutes later they were all sitting down at the table, Mary Jane had made spaghetti, while he had Naporitan before in the past Izuku had never had American Spaghetti before, it wasn't that much different but there a couple of things, but it didn't matter he was a guest in their home, and he had no right to complain, however as he ate he found himself likening it more and more "so Izuku how do you like the dinner? Asked Mary Jane "it's really good Misses Parker" "I'm glad to hear that, if you want more then we have plenty" "but don't stuff yourself" said Peter "remember we have a job to do tonight" "is daddy gonna fight bad guys?" "That's right Daddies gonna fight bad guys, and Izuku here is gonna help me" "yay you and daddy do a good job" Izuku was struck by just how cute May was, she reminded him of Eri back when she was younger "yeah we're gonna do our best" replies Izuku.

Ochako and girls arrived at the theater "so what show are we seeing" asked Ochako "it's an older show" answer Mina "it's called Wicked, it based off that really old movie the Wizard of Oz" "really, I've heard good things about this one." As they all entered the theater all where all astonished by the size of the place "wow" said Tsu "everything is so big in America" "you get used to it sort of" said Ochako "me and Deku have been here for about two weeks, and I'm still not entirely use to it" "really" said Toru "but this place seems so glamorous" "yeah some parts are glamorous, but the rest of the city isn't as much" "oh yeah" said Mina "what do you miss the most?" Asked Mina "well mostly my parents, and seeing all you guys" replied Ochako "I also miss how convenient everything is, there aren't as many convenient stores around" "yeah I guess I can see that" said Tsu, everyone then heard a voice over an intercom "attention everyone, the curtain will be rising in 15 minutes, may all audience members, have your tickets ready, and go to your seats" "oh the shows about to start" said Toru "come on girls" with that all the girls rushed over to their seats.

Izuku and Peter flew through the city in their hero costumes, Peter was moving a bit faster thanks to his webs, but Izuku was keeping up just fine as he hopped from building to building, eventually the stopped on the roof of a building, " man your fast" said Izuku as lands on the building seconds after Spider-Man "thanks part of it's the quirk, part of it's the webbing" replied Spider-Man "yeah I was meaning to ask are those a part of your quirk?" "Actually its equipment" "oh sweet who developed those?" "I did" "whoa really?" "Yep, I made the shooters and the formula for the webs, believe it or not, but I was actually in the Support class at Xavier’s, before my quirk developed" "I didn't know that's" "yeah in my second year I transferred to the hero program, after that the rest is history" a million thought poured into head, he thought about how Spider-Man was like him, and Shinso, he then thought about Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, and about how there the American equivalence of U.A. with their world famous Danger Room, then another question popped into his head "so what about the eyes of your mask, you know how the dilate, did you make those too" "no my wife made those, we meet in the support class, and then she designed my whole costume when I transferred" "whoa that's awesome" "yeah she is, she works hard every day, to not only make support items that aren't just functional, but also fashionable", just then they heard a crash from a nearby convent store "uh oh" said Spider-Man as he crouched down to get a closer look, "its Mrs.Delmars store, an man I love Delmar’s, we've got to help him" "ok what do you suggest" responded Izuku, Spider-man pondered for a second "hey have you ever seen cowboy bebop?"

Four burglars where in the store all of them with guns, three where towards the back holding up the hostages in the store, the other one was in the front threatening Mrs. Delmar, however to everyone's surprise someone walked into the store, a boy with green hair, wearing an oversize hoodie and headphones just walked in and started looking at the snakes, "hey kid beat it" said the burglar at the front as he walked towards the green boy, the boy took off his head phoned and looked at the burglar "oh sorry" said the boy as he held up a candy bar "I'm just getting a snack" the burglar notice that the boy was holding the candy bar strange, his index and middle finger where hovering above the bar, and his thumb was holding them both down, before he could think more about it the boy released his fingers, and next thing he knew, a gust of wind hit him with enough force to send him flying towards the other end of the store hitting the wall. At this sight of this the other three burglars aimed their guns at the boy, but out from the back room of the store, Webs shoot out at them, grabbing their guns, and pulling them away, before they could react the boy had leapt towards them, he kicked them sending them all to the ground unconscious. The hostages started screaming at the sight of everything that had just transpired "it's alright everything's fine" said Izuku as he unzipped his hoodie revealing his hero costume underneath "we're heroes" Spider-Man then walks in from the back room "yeah he's with me so no one panic" "Hey Peter" said Mrs. Delmar as he got up from behind his counter "Hey Mrs. Delmar I'm glad you’re alright" said Spider-Man as he walked towards the counter webbing up the burglars as he walked past them "you guys really saved my bacon there, hey how about some sandwiches on the house for you and your friend..." "It’s Deku, and that's not necessary" "ah nonsense, you just saved everyone’s life here, two sandwiches are the least I can do" after thinking over for a second Izuku accepted "alright I'll have whatever the house special is."

Ochako and the others sat at the restaurant slightly disappointed that they were denied drinks "aw man" said Mina "I forgot the drinking age was different here" "I know it's been weeks sense me and Izuku have had a drink" replied Ochako "speaking of which" said Mina "how are things going with you and Midoriya?" "Oh there going good" replied Ochako "but" she said with a tinge of sadness "but what?" Questioned Tsu "well it's just, I'm not sure if things are gonna move past this point, we're always so busy with work all the time, and he loves his work heck even this vacation is also a business trip, I mean I love the guy, I love how dedicated he is to being a hero, but I'm worried that it's never gonna move past dating, or at worse we're just gonna drift apart as we focus more on the job, I don't know" Mina and Tsu sat in silence until Toru spoke up "Ochako, I don't think you have anything, I'm sure you and Izuku will be fine, I mean for a long time I didn't think I would make it here either" at this all the girls looked at her with surprise "what really?" Questioned Mina "yeah" replied Toru "it was because of my quirk, because of it I don't even know how my own face looks, I thought no boy would ever want someone like me, someone who couldn't be cute even if she tired" she then lifted up her hand with the ring on it and looked at it "and then I meet Ojiro, and he didn't care that I didn't look traditionally cute, he legitimately liked me for me, and now he wants to spend the rest of his life with me, and so do I, and I can tell that those two boys are cut from the same cloth, so just give it time I'm sure Midoriya is already planning something" at this Ochako smiled a little bit "now enough depressing talk" said Toru "let's figure out what we're gonna have for dessert."

Izuku and Peter sat on top of a building eating there sandwiches "wow this is really good" said Izuku "I told ya" replied Peter "Delmar’s is the best in the city" "yeah I believe you, I'll have to bring Ochako here sometime" "speaking of which, how is Ochako?" "Oh she's doing great, she’s actually hanging out with some friends right now, I'm sure she's having fun" "yeah and by what I've seen, you've really got it hard for her" "is it that obvious" said Izuku with a tinge of embarrassment "yeah, she was my first real friend for a long time, and I've always admired her, both for her skills as a hero, and just how kind she was, she's just always finds ways to make me feel better about myself, and I just hope I'm making her truly happy, she deserves that, and more" as Izuku said all of this his face went all dreamy and Peter took notice of this "I know that face" "huh" "it's the same face Johnny said I had when I talked about Mary Jane" "really" "yep it's also a face that lets me know that you’re thinking about marrying that girl" "what marriage, that's ridiculous we're nowhere near that" after a few seconds of denying Izuku gave up because it didn't look like he was convincing Peter at all "is it that obvious" "yeah" "well yeah I am thinking about it, my mom even helped pick a ring, and I even brought it with me, but I'm scared" "why are you scared?" "Well it might sound ridiculous, but for a long time I thought no one would want to be my friend, then I met her, and then I thought no one would want to date me, then I got together with her, but I guess I'm worried that marriage might be asking too much, like I know she could do so much better than me, and it might be selfish to ask her to settle for me, and.." before Izuku could continue Peter interrupted him "Kid, kid, kid, your muttering" "oh sorry I know that can be annoying sometimes, she probably thinks it’s annoying too" "no kid listening how long have you too been together" "well about 3 years now" "and could you have left at any time?" "Well yeah but I never would" "and could she have left at any time?" This shocked Izuku but he answered after a few seconds "yeah she could have left at any time" "then I don't think you have anything to worry about" "what makes you say that" "well if she could have left at any time in all those 3 years, and she hasn't, I'm pretty sure she's here for the long haul, but if you still not sure then go ahead a hold off on asking her, but don't wait too long, you never know how long you might actually have" Izuku noticed there was a tinge of sadness in Peter's voice "anyway what time is it.." before Peter could check the time, his phone started to ring, he answered it "hello, Aunt May, how’s it going, wait you won a cruise trip for you and Aunt Anna, well that's good, wait its next weekend, but what about Little May, no it's fine, I'll figure something out, have fun, bye love you" Peter hung up the phone "dang it" "what is it?" Asked Izuku "I was planning on taking Mary Jane on a trip this weekend, and my Aunt was supposed to look after May over the weekend, but now she's off on a cruise, so now I have to find a babysitter for May" as Peter thought this over, Izuku remembered his times with Kota and Eri "how about me and Ochako do it" "you really don't have to do that" "no it's fine, let me ask Ochako when I get back and I'll get back to you on it" "ok thanks, alright its 11:30, I say we go for another two hours and then call it a night alright" "alright."

Izuku stumbled back into his hotel room, it was almost 3 in the morning, and after he closed the door he dropped his duffle bag, and started to undress as he walked towards the bed. When he laid down back into bed, Ochako woke up "oh welcome back" said Ochako sleepily "hey babe, how was night out" replied Izuku just as sleepy "oh it was fun we went to a show, and then got dinner, oh and Toru and Ojiro are getting married" this woke Izuku up a little bit "whoa really, that's good, I'm happy for them" "yeah what about you, how was your patrol" "oh it was good I meet Spider-Man's family, they gave me dinner, then we stopped and convenient store robbery, and two muggings" "that's good" "oh and Spider-Man is taking his wife on a trip next weekend, and they were wondering if we could babysit their daughter while there away" Ochako thought about it for a second before replying "yeah we can take care of that" "great, I'll tell them in the morning, goodnight I love you" "Goodnight I love you too" the couple kissed and then fell asleep.

Chapters

1 2

Notes: here we are again, I’m sorry this one seems to be quite a bit longer then the last two chapter, I actually originally thought this one was gonna be shorter then the last two, but then it just got longer as I put in everything I wanted to do in this chapter, anyway I hope everyone is enjoying this, I will see you all in two weeks.

[sinto-hell]

boys n fashion

i have uuuuuh very specific ways to imagine how the boys look because i’m never satisfied with canon and i Cannot Fucking Draw™ and i scream a lot about fashion so (mostly because what the fuck is fashion sense in otome i’m looking at u dmmd what the FUCK were those yellow socks and that jacket AN ALSO NOIZ’S ENTIRE FUCKING OUTFIT IM SO ANGRY) anyway this got a bit out of hand lmao i love clothes

nathaniel

LOTS OF SWEATERS

wears a shirt under his sweater with the collar poping out

“preppy” but not frat boy preppy. like comfy casual pretty. soft n warm like marshmallow. he looks soft but he could easily deck u into next week

lots warm cardigans 

lots of light wash jeans. doesn’t really wear black or dark colored jeans. also always cuff his jeans

white adidas are the shoes he usually wears to school

he fucking despises flannels they’re the ugliest thing in his opinion

owns a lot of scarves; never wear any of them

he knows he looks good in stripes so he has a lot of stripped shirt

hoodies are for lazy days

one (1) pair of black ripped knees jeans. usually pair them with a creme sweater

also tries to make his hair behave but he just. can’t. so he tries to make it fashionably disheveled.

owns one of those jacket thats like denim but the sleeves and the inside are like a regular sweater and theres a hood god i want one of those

probably has glasses he wears to read

(i remember i saw an artist that basically drew him dressed like this but i cant remember their name so there’s that)

castiel

boi is a punk 

his wardrobe is 90% band shirt, they’re literally almost all he wears

owns 4 my chemical romance shirt

he has two denim jacket: one black with various pins and small patch on it and one light wash with a big ass misfits patch on the back

also probably found his leather jacket in a thrift store

unironically buys those bad translation shirt that says shit like “try my delicious salt beef” or “way the bridge i burn high the way” credit to @mclfutarinotamashi for that one 

90% of his band shirts are really worn out because he wears them so much

owns a pair of og black converse and red doc martens

usually always has his roots showing and has taken a liking in tying his hair in a half bun. sorta. but he mostly live in his natural bedhead

lys once braided his hair and he didn’t like it on him but he thought it was really relaxing

has a fuckton of spiked bracelet and rubber band bracelets, but only wears one or two at a time nowadays. he used to wear a lot more. like. a lot.

black jeans all the way

also ripped jeans

also own two or three big sweater, and one of them his hands just. disappear when he wear it.

lysander

don’t get me wrong i love the victorian fashion but;; it aint realistic

peg leg trousers. google it. he’d wear the heck out of that.

owns a lot of fancy black pants 

he has those weird pants i’ve been looking for, they’re high waisted and really flowy and they’re called culottes. his are black with white stripes and he owns a black only version

he totally owns a green velvet skirt fight me on this

has a lot of scarves and wears them all

has a simple but very nice pair of brown boots for casual days and fucking 5 inches new rocks platform shoes with buckles all over for when he’s extra

a true Goth™

lots of turtlenecks and long sleeve black shirts. did i mention turtlenecks

he totally owns this sweater in green and black

he loves high waisted pants

plays a bit on androgyny, as he knows he’s pretty tall, but also very delicate so skirt  are the fucking shit on him

owns a trench-like coat. with a hood. also long cardigans

sometimes when he’s extra he’ll play a bit into the steam punk territory

experiment a bit with makeup, but only on his eyes, he still shy away from lipstick

he braid his hair to sleep so it has nice waves the next day. cares a lot about his hair actually 

also basically how @veroww dresses him what a babe

armin

oh boi what a mess

lots and lots of hoodies and generally clothes with hoods so he can hide in them and sleep

literally owns this and that (i have that one and it makes me look like a jedi, so another reason why he’d wear it)

nerd shirts. you know the type.

like he has 3 pokemon shirts and 4 marvel. alexy will not let him go out of the house wearing those. the only one hes allowed to be seen with in public is his star wars one

and fucking memes shirt

like he probably has a white shirt with a shiba inu on it

got that shirt that says “why be racist, sexist, homophobic and transphobic when you could just be quiet” with alexy so they match

one of these guys that only wears black skinny jeans or sweatpants

 basically nerdy emo

has like. 2 pair of shoes. really dirty vans that he wear everywhere and a nice pair of boots for like. ass kicking purpose. kidding alex probably made him buy them

“vans or converse?” “vans what the fuck am i an animal”

probably owns a trasher hoodie (ok now thats me projecting bc i headcanon the only sport he can kind of do is skating so) (beside SK8ER BOI ARMIN AM I RIGHT)

also yes, a lot of beanies

anything comfortable, really; doesn’t really own a lot of fancy or statement pieces he wears regularly. 

kentin

alex is right ok the military pants looks great and he probably has a great ass in it but jesus boy please change up ur game 

i actually haven’t thought a lot about his fashion sense probs because i dont write him as often as the twins or cas or do i thirst over lys

but @ne-neptune has drawn him with glasses and a big jacket today and im lov

probably owns a carhatt jacket thats a bit too big on him

rolls up his sleeves. always. wether his shirts are long sleeves or short sleeves. he. rolls them up. sip sip THEM ARMS THO

wears a concerning amount of beige and green. 

LIKES KNITTED SWEATERS OK. HE IS SOFT™

has a camo jacket

wears a lot of baggy pants but is also warmin up to more slim jeans, (not skinny bc its too tight and he doesn’t understand how armin and castiel do it) bc he knows his ass looks gr8

finally bought himself a new pair of fancy glasses he think he look ok with. hint: he’s both cute & fucking hot with them and everyone is thirsty.

combat boots all the way. he does own a pair of old converse that are seriously starting to be worn out, but he still wears them sometimes

alexy because i fucking can

now that’s my B O I

Thriftshop Fashionista™

seriously this boy love thrifstores. he once fucking found gucci shit in there. he’s lucky.

vintage/90s clothes aesthestic. 

lightwash jeans with a big belt, weird dad shirt tucked into his jeans

HE TUCKS HIS SHIRT IN HIS JEANS

AND ALSO CUFF THEM WHAT A FASHION ICON

probably also own some peg leg trousers like lysander

his favourite pair of jeans is one he found in a really sketchy store, theres hole at the knees and the bottom of the legs are ripped and there are flower patches going down the entire left side (fun fact: one of my friend has these exact pant he found in a thriftsore and every time he wears them i’m just like. vogue is shook. what a fucking look. fashion icon.)

also probably owns a sweater with roses embroidery

has like 4 denim jacket, each very different; one with patches all over it, one with a giant gay flag on the back, one black with rips in it, and one plain light wash

has one of those weird flashy colored 90s jacket that’s like baby blue and bright orange. it was his mom’s. he stole it from his mom. she let him keep and re question her fashion choices every time he wears it.

weird 90s and dad shirt are his shit. also really big sweaters. weird colors. this boy own a purple knitted sweater with a yellow wolf patch on the back. rosalya hates it. he probably bought it out of spite.

also owns vans. and a pair of combat boots. and a pair of converse. and one pair of black high heels. and orange sneakers. and brown fancy leather boots. and-

he probably steals armin’s trasher hoodie for the aesthetic

also steals his beanies bc what he has like 10

loves embroidered clothes or things with patches or weird flower designs on them

also big ass red sunglasses worn ironically.

vogue is fucking shook by this boy

and that’s all folks