#anyways the old lady behind the counter was nice enough

[tskumoyuuma]

anxiety is so stupid. been dreading n putting off doing this one stupid thing for literal months cause I'd never done it before. finally forced myself to do it today n it took like 10 minutes, most of it walking to n from the place. was shaking the entire time

[shaguro]

synposis: the story of how you met your sugar-daddy, nanami, at the cafe you work at. ♡ (the prequel to this drabble!)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: sugar daddy nanami! (college student/barista reader x coo nanami), reader is fem, age gap (nanami is 30, reader is 24.), ceo gojo cameo at the start, flirty nd playful banter btwn reader nd nanami, anna is reader's coworker nd friend. nanami calls reader sweetheart once, nanami is just smitten with her as soon as he sees her. sweet fluff! as a whole, this is very light-hearted and unserious y'all. — w.c: 2.2k. ♡

angel's note: consider this my official comeback from my hiatus! thank you so much @preciousamethyst for beta-reading, love you downn. ♡

“you’re telling me out of the five blind-dates that i set up . . . you didn’t like any of them? not even a little bit?” satoru asks incredulously, the french-vanilla latte in his hand almost spilling on the table as he leans forward. “you’re too damn picky, nanamin! they all seemed like nice, respectable ladies to me.”

nanami sighs, looking up from his laptop with an annoyed expression on his face. “the last one didn’t have any teeth . . . and can you keep it down? i’m trying to focus and you’re making a scene, as usual.”

“oh, heh. my bad.”

nanami’s eyes linger on the white-haired man for a moment before focusing on the screen in front of him again. he’s not sure why satoru tagged along to this new cafe with him on his lunch break. (when he clearly stopped visiting his favorite one to avoid him.) it’s not like nanami could say no, anyway — satoru is his boss. his annoying and extremely invasive boss who always finds a way to be in his way and in his business.

it goes without saying that his dating life is certainly not off-limits.

unwrapping the chocolate eclair he just bought, satoru takes a bite of the puffy pastry, humming once the sugary goodness hits his tastebuds. “you were right, nanamin. this does taste amazing.“ he pauses between his words to lick chocolate off his bottom lip, then off his fingers. “maybe we need to try a different approach . . . dating apps! ever tried tinder or bumble—“

“no.” nanami slams his laptop closed, shooting all satoru’s incoming questions down. “i don’t need your help. let’s try ‘letting things happen naturally and staying out of my business’ for a change, yeah?”

“but i have everything planned out! it’ll take me two seconds to make your profile and i have the perfect bio for you — thirty year old trick looking for a pretty woman to spend all my money on — how’s that sound?”

“terrible.” nanami deadpans, placing his laptop into his briefcase. he lifts the sleeve of his shirt, checking the time on his breitling navitimer before standing from his seat. “you have fun with that. i’m getting my pastry to go, i’ll see you back at the office.”

satoru’s jaw is on the floor. “but, nanami—“

without another word, nanami leaves a whining gojo to make his way towards the line that was, thankfully, empty. the baristas don’t notice him, backs turned while they talk to each other by the back counter and nanami doesn’t mind — it gives him more time to decide on what pastry he wants anyway.

truly, he doesn’t understand the obsession surrounding his love life. while nanami is looking, he is by no means desperate. even he knew it was a bad idea to present yourself as a sugar daddy on a dating app, unless you’re an idiot or just lacking a single ounce of dignity.

both categories that satoru fits into, nanami thinks. 

kneeling slightly for a better view at the assorted desserts behind the crystalline-glass case, nanami’s unsure of which one to choose. this cafè’s selection is extensive, they offer much more than what he’s used to; tarts, cakes and pastries that he’s never even seen before. ultimately, he opts to keep it simple with one of his favorites: a fluffy cinnamon roll with extra vanilla glaze.

“girl, i’ve been working real hard and i still don’t have enough saved to pay tuition.” you murmur, scooping a handful of coffee grounds into the filter and shaking the brew funnel to level them. “i’m stressed out.”

nanami’s eyes flicker to where the two of you stand. while he’s never considered himself to be a nosy man, he finds his focus shifting from his lunch to the conversation you’re having, ears perked in interest as he continues to weigh his other options.

your co-worker, anna, gives you a reassuring pat on the back, her face itched downward in concern. “yeah, you were telling me about that last week . . . how much more do you need?”

“around like five-hundred more.” you sigh, brushing your hands off on your apron. anna starts to speak but you stop her with a raise of your palm, already knowing what she’s thinking. “and yes, i’ve taken out loans already. my loans have loans at this point.”

anna raises her brows. “so what are you going to do?”

“i’m out of options.” you shrug, adjusting the valves on the coffee machine to their correct settings. with a heavy sigh, you lean your head on her shoulder with a pout on your glossed lips, “it’s either i start an onlyfans or god sends me a rich old man that wants to be my sugar-daddy.”

anna giggles and playfully swats your arm. even in a serious moment like this, you find a way to lighten the mood. she plays along, tapping her chin with her index finger, “hmm, that can work! maybe you can start stripping. you watched the tiktoks i sent you, right? they touch thousands on a good night.”

“oh my god, i didn’t even think of that!” you stand straight and cup your hands on your breasts through your shirt, poking your ass out a bit. “i might need a boob job and bbl if i wanna be serious about it, though . . . plus, isn’t twenty-four a little too old to start stripping?”

“girl, please. twenty-four isn’t old and you know that. you have a nice body and you’re pretty. they’ll throw stacks just based off that, trust me —”

that whole sugar-daddy thing that satoru was suggesting doesn’t sound half as bad to nanami, right now. you get the money you need and he gets to spend time with you, it’s a win-win.

“she’s right,” nanami agrees, unable to hold back the chuckle that leaves his mouth when the both of you literally jump at the sound of his voice, whipping your bodies around to see just who that deep, smooth timbre belonged to. “you’re very pretty miss . . .” his brown eyes shift down to your name-tag. “ . . . ( name ).”

you blink once, twice — lips slightly parted, heat slowly rising to your face once his sweet compliment slowly registers in your brain and how your name flowed so easily off his tongue. just looking at this man, you can tell that he has money. he’s handsome, even more so as your eyes shift from his chiseled face down to his body. nanami stands tall, he must be around six feet. sporting a white dress-shirt and navy-blue slacks that match his tie, nanami is built. the soft cotton of his shirt clings to his biceps, outlining each vein and curve. the very top of his shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a sliver of his toned chest underneath.

there is no way god answered your prayers this quickly.

in a trance, you stare at nanami like a deer in headlights, completely enamored until anna nudges your arm, snapping you back to reality. she whispers a curt ‘you better talk to that man, girl’ in your ear and that’s you realize that you didn’t even thank him yet, how rude. 

“o-oh, thank you.” you move towards the register, giving nanami a sheepish smile whilst drumming your french-tip acrylics against the granite counter. “so um . . how much of that did you hear?”

“hmm . . . most of it.”

“the onlyfans part too?”

nanami nods with a grin. “and the old rich sugar daddy part.”

you cover your face with your hand, letting out a long sigh. this is just your luck, embarrassing yourself in front of this extremely sexy stranger. “let’s just . . . pretend that didn’t happen.” you’re certain that you were definitely not getting his number after this. “what can i get you, mr . . .?”

“kento.” nanami answers, leaning a tad bit closer and you have to crane your neck slightly to look at him, that grin still on his plump lips. “but you can call me ken.”

“oh?” you catch the cheeky switch in his tone, the teasing glint in those pretty pools of brown. he’s flirting with you and why not return the same energy? you’re interested in him, too. biting back a smile of your own, you hold his gaze, staring up at him through your wispy extensions. “ok, ken, what can i get you?”

“two of those cinnamon rolls, please.” nanami answers, pointing towards the case he’d been looking at prior.

you nod and grab a set of tongs, opening the glass to place the rolls into a small plastic bag, then into a paper bag on the counter. “just that, nothing else?”

pondering on the question, nanami’s debating the risk of what he’s about to say. it’s obvious that you’re attracted to him but this was a whole different ballgame, asking you to be his sugar baby? — really, the worst that could happen is you rejecting him and as much as he doesn’t want that, he’d just have to accept it. nanami inhales a deep breath once he gathers his thoughts. here goes nothing. 

“well, there is something that i have. it’s a proposition of sorts for you.”

you look up from the register, one of your brows raised. “and what would that be?”

“allow me to take you out a few times a week, whenever you have the time . . . and i’ll pay your tuition.” nanami pauses and shakes his head, combing some of his blonde locks back with his fingers. “no, i’ll pay all your bills. as long as i get to see you, i’ll give you anything that you want.”

you tilt your head to the left and raise your brows. “you want to be my sugar daddy?”

nanami nods, chuckling at the look of sheer disbelief on your face on your face. “i’m missing the old part so i’m not exactly sure if i qualify . . . but yes, i do.”

you scoff at that. “. . . and you just want to see me, take me on dates, no sex?” did he think you were that naive? if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that nothing in this world is free —  everything has a price and in this case, your pussy would be the desired currency. you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “i don’t believe that. what’s the catch?”

nanami supposes you aren’t wrong for thinking this way. it does sound far-fetched, especially from a stranger you met not even an hour ago. he wasn’t a liar or a perv, and he’d just have to make you see how serious he is. “there is no catch. i think you’re beautiful and i want to get to know you better. i understand that this may seem too good to be true but i promise you, my intentions are pure.”

nanami isn’t surprised when you don’t budge, eyes slanted as you glare him down. (and you look so adorable while doing it.) he expected this reaction from you and little did you know, he’s already one step ahead. if his words don’t move you, then he’s sure his actions will get the point across.

fishing for his wallet in his pocket, he pulls it out, handing you a five dollar bill, “this is for the cinnamon rolls and this,” he takes out a set of bills, hundred dollar bills and you watch him, mouth ajar as he counts off each one before placing it in your free hand. is he serious? “this is for your tuition and a little extra to spend. we’ll handle the ‘loans that have loans’ on our first date, alright?”

you’re speechless, eyes shifting between nanami’s face and the money in your hand as you try your best to process what’s happening before you. from joking about needing a sugar-daddy to having one in front of you. and the man wants to spend time with you, no sex required! you surely couldn’t doubt him now, not when he gave you the money without you actually agreeing. maybe this was the blessing from god you’d been waiting for.

you clear your throat, nodding dazedly. “a-alright, yeah . . . we can talk more on our first date.”

nanami smiles once more, glancing at his watch prior to picking up the paper bag off the counter. “as much as i want to stay with you, i have to get back to the office.” reaching into his pants pocket, he slides a laminated card on the counter. “my personal number is on this card. when you get a chance, call or send me a text. i’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

with a playful wink, nanami leaves the cafe — your eyes trailing his lithe frame until he turns a street corner, completely out of sight. it’s like you were frozen in place, the money still in your hands. when you finally decide to take a look at the business card he left, your jaw quite literally drops to the floor: this man is the coo of jujutsu, one of the biggest marketing companies in the country.

                                 kento nanami

                            chief operating officer

               jujutsu marketing and e-commerce, llc.

                                 xxx-xxx-xxxx

kento.nanami@gmail.com

now, you were definitely certain that god did indeed hear and answer your prayers. in more ways than one.

tagging: @sttoru @screampied @thebimbopalace @tojancy

© shaguro, 2023 - do not plagiarise nor repost anything on any other platform.

[grizzersmamma]

Son of Zmei | Fae AU | Nikto x F!Reader

A/N: Playing with @ghouljams​ ‘s Fae AU again, this time with my boy Nikto. This is just a bit of an intro to Nikto and his pet, our dear reader. We’ll get into what kind of creature Nikto is in the next part and how that plays into his personality. (I swear I’m working on the next BTL chapter, this fic is just on the side).

Warnings: Nikto being a bit of a creep. Reader gets knocked out lol. Nikto in this is similar to how he is in BtL, so kinda spoilers for that?

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Next Part

The little antiques and curiosities store you manage is quiet most days. The owner rarely visits, simply paying the bills from his comfortable home the next town over, leaving you to your own devices. So long as everything is kept clean and the newest items are properly displayed, the man doesn’t seem to care much for how you choose to keep yourself entertained throughout the day.  

You sit behind the shop counter most days undisturbed, tapping away at your laptop that seems frightfully out of place in a room filled with such ancient items. You can’t complain, however, as the pay is reasonable and most of the work is simple admin duties. You’re more than content to spend your work hours browsing the internet for new and interesting supplies and chatting with the elderly ladies that visit you every Thursday.  

Today is one such quiet day, with only the soft humming of the old lights hanging above you for company. Earlier, the nice lady who, for some reason, goes by the title “Witch”, had stopped by to talk to you about some sort of shop owner’s association being formed for the town. You thanked her for the consideration, informing her you didn’t actually own the store but would pass the word on to the owner. She had insisted that you drop by at some point, and you promised to consider it.  

You were the one tasked with running the store, even if the building didn’t technically belong to you, so perhaps it would be nice to get to know some of the people working nearby. The Witch seemed nice enough anyway, and she was one of the few people who purchased things from the shop rather than simply browsing the items. It would only be polite to accept such a kind offer.  

You’re drawn from your bored musing by the sound of the little bell above the door ringing, a figure moving into the entrance. As you push your laptop away from the main counter, you offer a bright greeting to the customer, straightening up to make it look as though you weren’t just leaning back in the chair, lazing about.  

The customer, what you can only assume is a man given their massive stature, turns a pair of ice blue eyes on you. He doesn’t return the greeting, just staring at you for an uncomfortably long moment, before he approaches. He’s dressed head to toe in black fabrics, not even his face visible save for the small holes in a rather large mask where his intense gaze pins you in place.  

Is this how you’re going to die? Murdered in broad daylight by a giant masked man? It seems likely given how the man is stomping toward you like a man on a mission, eyes not leaving your own.  

“How can I help you?” It comes out a bit strained as you struggle to get your voice to crawl its way out of your throat, vocal cords frozen in fear. Even stopping a few feet from the desk you’re stood behind, the man towers over you, looking down on you like you’re a tiny gnat underfoot.  

The man breathes out, the sound a strained rumbling noise like the growling of some sort of wild animal. You worry that he didn’t hear you, but a second later he finally speaks, “I have an order,” he growls. You weren’t expecting the deep, snarling voice and thick Russian accent that comes out of him, barely resisting the instinct to jump in surprise.  

“Right,” you breathe, slightly relieved that this guy just appears to be here on business and not actually planning on stabbing you. “What name would the order be under?” you ask.  

The man doesn’t appear to appreciate the question judging by the way the skin around his eyes crinkle slightly in distaste. He glares directly into your eyes as if your question is a riddle he needs to decipher. Eventually, he must find his answer because he finally answers you, “Nikto,” he grunts, “Son of Zmei.”

You battle to not furrow your brows at the rather odd name, knowing the people around this area are a little... quirky to say the least. To escape the awkward situation, you quickly dart into the storage room behind the counter where orders are stored for pick-up. There’s luckily only a single package, the name “Nikto” scribbled hastily across the top.  

When you finally return, the man, Nikto, has begun browsing the items on display next to the counter. His head shoots up the moment he catches sight of you, observing you again in that strangely intense way of his, silently placing the object he had been inspecting back onto the shelf.  

“Here you go,” you chirp, doing your best to plaster on a fake smile and not wilt under the man’s displeased look. He somehow manages to communicate a surprising amount of disgust with merely his eyes. You’re glad that the order was pre-paid, you’re not sure if you could handle trying to get money out of this man.  

He picks up the box, tucking it under his arm with a firm nod. “Good,” his voice, dangerous and low, sends a shiver down your spine. You’re not sure if it’s a good or a bad shiver. You’re about to breathe a sigh of relief, when the man turns around again. “You,” he snaps, “come with me.”  

You blink slowly at him, not entirely sure how to respond to being given a command like that. You awkwardly shuffle toward him, keeping a little bit of distance between the two of you. “Did you need something else?” you ask, cautiously.  

Before you can blink, a hand shoots out and grabs your face in a painful grip, yanking you closer. You gasp and try to pull the man’s hand off of you, but his grip is far too firm. “you will do,” he hums, looking you up and down. You want to ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing, but he forces you to lift your head further, staring deep into your frightened eyes. “Sleep now,” he rumbles.  

The room tilts dangerously, or maybe that’s just you, your vision spinning. You vaguely recognise that the floor is rushing toward you, but before you can think much of it, everything turns black.  

When light floods back all you can focus on is the terrible stabbing pain behind your eyes. You huff slightly, nosing your face deeper into the pillow under your head, reluctant to get out of bed while feeling so sore. You open your eyes you’re met with an unfamiliar sight.  

The bed you’re currently resting in is not in fact a bed and this is decidedly not your room.  

You’re lying on an old couch, a soft pillow shoved under your head to keep your head from being too strained, even if the sofa is far from comfortable. A thick blanket is wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you warm. The house was old, a frosty draft blowing through the room and leaving you with goosebumps despite the comforter.  

You want to try and get up and explore the area. You don’t know where you are or who could be nearby, but your head is still spinning and everything seems to be cloudy. You hear the sound of heavy footfalls on the wooden floor and the door to the lounge room swings open. You try to scramble away from the man when he strides into the room.  

“Who the hell are you?!” You nearly screech, almost slipping over when you try to get out from under the blanket, disorientated. “Where am I?”

Nikto, or at least you think he called himself that, just stares at you as if you’re the one asking strange questions. He seems to decide that ignoring you Is the best course of action and continues where he was walking previously.  

You can't help staring slack jawed at the man as he just wanders past you and into the kitchen. After a moment of sitting in stunned silence, you cautiously rise from where you’re sat. You can’t recall how you actually got there, just a vague recollection of the man coming to the store and then nothing. The blanket is still curled around you, providing an extra layer of safety.  

When you finally muster the courage to poke your head through the doorway leading to the kitchen. Nikto doesn’t seem to be paying you much attention and, after taking a deep breath, you tentatively ask, “Why am I here?”

“You are payment,” comes the disinterested answer, the man still keeping his back to you as he digs through one of the cabinets, “you agreed to this, no?” His voice is still firm and aggressive in its tone, but for a moment your fear leaves you, replaced by anger.  

“No? Why would I agree to this?!” You snap, before you can think any better of it, “who the hell said I did?”

Nikto grows deathly still and, for a moment, you think you’ve angered him and your life may be forfeit. However, he lets out a deep breath, grumbling “this is... unfortunate...” under his breath. “Petrov is more of a coward than I anticipated.” You feel that statement was not for your ears as it’s mumbled softly under the man’s breath, but his voice is still loud enough for it to carry to you clearly.  

Petrov, your employer. The friendly old man who owned the store you worked at. He had told this stranger that you had agreed to be some form of payment? “So, uh, this seems to be just a big misunderstanding,” your words draw the man’s attention back to you again, his displeased, blue eyes narrowing at you, “can I leave now?” Your voice has started to weaken under the intense stare, sounding more like a strained squeak than a proper question.  

To your surprise, Nikto simply waves you off, “do as you please. We will deal with Petrov.” You genuinely weren’t expecting to be let go so easily, but this isn’t a situation you want to stick around to resolve and you certainly don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. Before you can move, however, he adds, “are you certain? The walk is long.”

“How far is it to town?” You slowly start moving away from the kitchen and toward what you assume is the front door.  

The man thinks it over, growling out an eventual, “two hours, as the crow flies,” just as you reach the front door. “Take dog with you.” He says, opening the door for you, and before you can ask what he means you almost trip over a large, black canine sitting at the bottom of the front steps. It’s absolutely huge, looking more like a small bear than a dog and you would be intimidated if it weren’t for just how poofy the dog’s fluff is.  

“Okay, uh, thanks?” You offer weakly, stepping around the dog. You’re not sure what else you can really say. ‘Thanks for not murdering me!’ ‘Please don’t go around kidnapping other people ‘cause that’s hella illegal!’ No, you don’t want to push your luck.  

The man doesn’t bother replying, stepping back into his house and closing the door with a slam that makes you jump. You hope you don’t encounter that creep ever again, especially with the whole murderer-in-a-cabin-in-the-woods vibes he gives off in spades. You quickly start putting distance between yourself and the stranger, trying to ignore the massive dog padding after you.  

Suffice to say, you’ll be handing in your letter of resignation first thing in the morning.  

[raksh-writes]

Find the word

Tagged by @iced-ginger-tea thank youu! 💗 These ones are always super fun to do ^^

I wasn’t too sure about the rules, so I searched for the words in my WIP docs first, but since I only have a few current ones (and not all typed up), I had to do one in already posted fics. Hope that’s alright! (Also gonna do shameless self-promotion, ‘cause why not, am I right 😂)

I got the words: chill, noise, familiar, curl, imagine

Chill

Dean’s reminded of the fact that Nogitsune are also masters of illusions and forces himself to relax, to drop his hand from the gun tucked into his waistband. His summoning has been answered and that’s good, it’s good, even if the voice made a freezing-cold chill spread all throughout his muscles. Facing a new monster rarely makes an impression on him anymore, but now — now all of Dean’s instincts are on high alert and he can’t help but feel like the prey, out in the open as he is.

From Leap of Faith, a Supernatural S7 x Teen Wolf crossover. Also made me realize I pretty much never use this words, so -- food for thought!

Noise

The bathroom is quiet around him, no noise aside from the jacuzzi’s bubbling, the precise jetstreams and hot water slowly working on Vegas’ sore muscles as he sips his wine, gaze distant on the horizon. It’s nice, it always is, the way heat and half-darkness envelops everything, only a couple of lamps and candles providing a soft, golden glow in an otherwise dark room. Warm and cozy, some would say. Relaxing. And yet, under the hot water and dim lighting, Vegas sighs – an empty hollowness expanding inside his chest with a howl that bounces from rib to rib. Numb and persistent.

From my most current longfic WIP, a Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby VegasPete AU, with an introduction post here!

Familiar

Before Pete can formulate any kind of thought, Vegas’ hand slides from his jaw down to his chest, fingers tweaking his nipple harsh enough to make him gasp. A different hand, strange yet familiar, lifts from Pete’s hip to his chin, angling his head back; back, back, back until Pete has no other choice but face the one behind his shoulder — and whatever air was left in his lungs rushes out, half-moan and half-whimper.

From a purely smutty VegasPete WIP with demon!Vegas x2 ^^

Curl

He’d found the first person on the list mae left few days later, the letter heavy in his pocket and the ring even heavier on his finger. The lady he met on the other side of the counter was not exactly what he expected, but maybe that was the point. Small and with graying hair, she hardly looked intimidating or in any way acquainted with the sort of world Vegas lived in. Her gaze, though, cut right into the hollow emptiness in his chest, all of his armor rendered useless. As if she could see that sobbing, curled up sixteen years old as clear as day.

From a sequel to my already posted VegasPete post-canon fic. I really need to finish this one, and I love this little part so much.

Imagine

He knows quite a few switches, of course, in both their power dynamics and position – even bedded some of them, on occasion – but ever since he figured out his preferences, he’s never gone back. It’s just not something Vegas enjoys and although he could imagine a subtle power play being fun, has seen it in couples who have been together for a long time and have settled in their dynamic, it just… never appealed to him enough. And, well, it’s not like it has ever been in the cards for Vegas anyway.

Also from the Sugar Daddy VegasPete AU!

Okay, so the words I’m giving: satisfied, curve, freedom, memory, warm

No-pressure tagging: @fleet-off @theflowergirl @msmischief101 @roxannes-love-letters @dual-desires @amatchinwater @plushrumpasaurus @livingbythewords and anyone who’d like to do it, feel tagged too! ^^

[wanda-little-baby]

In action - Wanda x Reader

Summary: You prepare yourself for a mission like any other right? Or maybe not...

Warnings: No more traces of angst, just a little Avengers life (obviously under the eyes of a 18-year-old), and a nice bond with Nat

A/N: So, I've been pretty sick in the last week so I decided to take a little break but now I'm here, ready and energized to continue

Words: 2.546

Italics = thoughts

Okay, I just got out of a hot shower and headed to the kitchen to play the most important role in the Avengers in my opinion, the cook.

Since yesterday in the air it is as if I perceive something big coming and this is not good, Thor is back from some other place in space he has been and even if it is always a feast for the eyes he eats too much and a fridge would not be enough whole to feed him.

However, I spent most of the time left cooking to prepare 6 obviously personalized breakfasts (I'm pretty sure that after 2 years I know their eating habits well in the morning) and a mega breakfast for the god.

"Good morning Nat" I exclaimed obviously surprising the red shadow behind me.

"Tell me how you always know, in short, I should be one of the spies if not the best spy in the world" replied a shocked Natasha to have discovered her.

"Do you know that I can feel you? You know, with my powers, those strange things I do with my hands right?" I replied continuing to churn out an endless row of pancakes.

"Right, anyway I smell good here" said the widow getting closer and closer to the stove "Am I wrong or are those pancakes? Is Thor here?" she asked curious about this morning news.

"Yes, he arrived last night when you were still down training" I said placing all the portions meticulously calibrated freeing myself to be able to continue talking "Anyway, I heard Steve and he said he is waiting for us at 8 for another of his famous debriefings, who knows what the new mission will be" with my arms crossed and a thoughtful look I confided to the redhead intent on munching some cereals from the box

"The newbie is excited eh, remember whatever it is there are people in danger, they are the top priority" she said in his usual wise old tone. "I know I know, this is what we do here, protect people from things they can't protect themselves against" exhaling in defeat to her inevitable intellectual superiority, I headed for the bedrooms.

"I'm going to get ready" were the only words Nat heard as I ambushed my room. And within 15 minutes I was back out beautiful and bright in the ordinary way to enjoy the sleep-distorted faces of my teammates.

"Lady Y/N! Well awakened, your beauty shines like the gold that covers the Asgard palace!" greeted the mighty god of thunder with his peculiar ways. "Thor, I see you're in a good mood today, ready for the meeting?" I replied making faces at a Natasha pleased with the embarrassment of the conversation. "It's very ready, Stark and Steve are already waiting for us in the "meeting room"so it will be better not to keep them waiting, you know Steve how annoying it can be for punctuality" she replied taking her arms off the counter and walking towards the meeting room "Yeah, it's better go. Thor, with me" I continued following Natasha in line and calling back the Asgardian.

——————————————————————

Once inside Steve started talking

"So, last night the Shield gave us the position of Loki's scepter in the hands of the Hydra" Steve began speaking to the four of us seated by a long table.

"And where is it?" Nat asked as he read the digital file

"Sokovia, near the city of Novi Grad. It's one of the last remaining Hydra bases so it's not sure if the scepter is right there" sighed Bruce as he rubbed his temples with his fingers.

"Yeah, it's not sure if the scepter is there, but we're sure to kick Strucker's ass before shutting him in a 4x4 cube of reinforced concrete" Tony came up with his usual way of speaking

"Finally!! Screams of pain and death will follow our path" Thor exclaimed with too much enthusiasm.

This was certainly the most tragic-comic moment since I am an Avenger because after this particular observation we all turned with mixed looks of confusion and disgust towards the Asgardian.

"Ok, but no, no rivers of blood will flow in Eastern Europe. They may also be Hydra soldiers but they are still civilians so unnecessary bloodshed must be avoided." with a few words still perplexed I tried to bring the situation back to a level of oddities within the norm. "Y/N is right, we need a plan, a very strong plan" continued the archer supporting the newborn conversation "Thanks Clint" I replied in a tone of response but also of thanks for the support (I'm not at all good at talking to more than two people at a time without being embarrassed); promptly without saying anything, with only two fingers he made a gesture as if it were a "please"

"That's why we're here, we have to come up with a strategy to infiltrate without getting noticed and possible alternative plans in case things go wrong." Steve continued the conversation "WHEN things get wrong" with his usual teasing ways Tony tried to do something that doesn't even come close to a joke

"Ehm, I was saying ..." the captain pointed out in a rather annoyed tone "we split into three teams:

- Tony and Thor will give us cover from above and go first;

- Me, Clint and Natasha will take care of the soldiers ;

- Y/N and Banner will remain behind as in the event of an ambush

Once inside, the main targets are Strucker and the scepter, the other things have to be picked up and brought back to New York"

"You know it won't be easy to get in there?" Clint pointed out in a very impertinent way. "That's why we need more plans, to prepare for the worst. And that's why I have a stealth plan. From what I read on the file there are deliveries with a couple of trucks every day, maybe Nat and I can infiltrate one of these. and enter without being noticed, make our way and disable the shields that will surely be around the base and allow you others to enter and make a big boom!" All in one breath I presented with great anxiety all around my newly studied plan.

"Well, this is a plan, now only the worst option is missing. In the worst case, we stay on the ground to take out as many as we can by eliminating the surprise factor and Tony breaks these hypothetical shields." at the end concludes the redhead, putting an end to the briefing

"Okay then, we have the plans, now we have to get ready. We'll meet you on the landing pad tonight at 10pm, so we'll get there early in the morning," Steve said, getting up and dismissing everyone in the room.

"OK rookie, with me now, training room, I have to drop you a couple of times before I go to war." completely excited Natasha said with a smile from ear to ear. "It's been two years now, when are you going to stop this rookie thing?" with a smiling but also a little annoyed look, I replied to the widow's words.

Raising her eyes to the sky, the slightly annoyed redhead replied "I'll stop when you finally win a training session", "Yes, as if I haven't won one, right? Bah, you know it's there, now let's go down and I'll fuck your ass!" I concluded in a playful tone with a beautiful tongue as I made my way to the elevator.

——————————————————————

"I don't know Nat, I've been feeling something bad and big in the pot since this morning" I expressed my opinion before kicking the head of the "mentor" unfortunately saved. "I honestly think you are worrying unnecessarily" punch on my dear ribs (it hurts a lot I still remember the pain) "You may be right but I say that it is better to worry, and not because I feel it but because it is my powers to tell me" I don't know why but I left the fighting position while I say this (I will regret it within 10 seconds) and..." Yes but for the moment worry about this..." total darkness for a few milliseconds and then I find myself lying in ground with Nat's legs around my head as he tries to choke me "but then I still haven't figured out what kind of powers you have" he says just before loosening his grip "I have no idea, just these little balls of energy come out of my hands and sometimes if I concentrate I can make a barrier, but nothing more, even if I have no idea what a long way to go." finally we return to an upright position and sincerely with our hands against our hips and completely sweaty I look at a thoughtful and equally sweaty Nat "some times though, it seems as if you were talking and I heard you but you didn't speak at the end" with an increasingly sulky look at the end she spoke "As if you read minds?", "Yes, that's right, I have to practice maybe I could understand what is in your head Natasha Romanoff" with a smiling grimace I hit Nat's arm as a sign of challenge and she to counter instead she says "Would you like to understand me? Don't think about it, instead think about going to take a shower and eat something because it's almost time to leave", ah the famous worried Natasha I will never tire of seeing her but I have to answer her so "Yes mom!" I say sneaking out before being chased by a very angry redhead

——————————————————————

Maybe training all day was not a good idea because now I'm really tired and I still have to prepare for the mission and I think I'll spend all night sleeping on the Quinjet

Looking back, I would like to know how to make things fluctuate, it would be easier to pack. Maybe this way... "What? I thought about floating the bag in front of me, I pretended to lift it and finally in my hands my powers manifested and the bag went up in the air!" I honestly have to train more to maneuver this thing, once back from Sokovia I have to pause the spy in me and focus only on the magic in me "Wow, I will never stop surprising myself" but I absolutely have to use this thing to annoy Nat , I don't think I've ever seen her scare and I can't wait to play a lot of jokes

After this profound inner monologue, wanting to carry the floating bag up to the Quinjet at a weighted pace, I head to the elevator to leave the bedroom area

"Wait, wait wait !!!" Nat says in a panic just before the elevator closed. "Who can I see !! Do you need a ride?" I ask with a very happy look at the agitated expression on the older woman's vault

"Yes, I need a ride, ROOKIE" she replies trying to compose herself for the race and leaning an elbow against one of the elevator walls "And what is that?" she exclaims, pointing to the bag still in the air next to my hands covered with red wips of magic

"Oh, this is something I learned five minutes ago, apparently I can make things float" I said dropping the bag to the floor and putting it on my shoulders.

"Cool! But just as creepy" answered the widow with a disgusted frown "but now try to float your ass on that Quinjet and come back here whole, because I'm not going to find a new protege" she added pointing at the exit of the lift to the take-off platform

"Yes Madam!" I said, turning to look at her as I walked backward toward the flying vehicle.

——————————————————————

Once we were all seated in our seats, the captain explained the plans for the umpteenth time and then recommended us to rest because it was going to be a long journey. And so I did, I slept, and I immediately regretted it.

I was sleeping peacefully (as much as a girl can be when she's about to storm a "Nazi" base), when suddenly flashes of light, some quick images as if it were a blink of an eye and a phrase repeated over and over - You and I are the same - . And then again those images, a brunette girl (Who is she? I can't see her well! Do I know her? Why do I feel a connection with this person?), So many but so many robots (Why do they lgook like Tony's armor?), and finally a sound, as if it were a rustle of the wind (Bho?).

"Hey Y/N, wake up we're about to arrive," Bruce said suddenly, bringing me back to reality with a gasp

"Wa-" were the first words I said still in the dream, which among other things also made the doctor in front of me worry (I still had to metabolize that there was someone in front of me). "Everything is OK?" added a voice, intruding into the conversation (after unraveling that remaining veil of sleep I realized it was Clint! I just go haywire when I wake up, huh!). "Sure, just a strange dream" (No look, I just dreamed so many things that I don't understand and I keep a weight on my stomach for no reason, I'm not well at all)

After securing the two men I decided to get up and go talk to Steve who was standing on the edge of the "pilot area".

"So cap, what's the weather like out there?" I asked jokingly on the clouds clearly present trying in vain to remove the nail of the last five minutes, obviously in my mind I was thinking only of one thing: what did I dream? "Cloudy, why?" at this point he replied clearly confused by the question.

"Oh Steve, I love your ability to not understand sarcasm" I said laughing out loud as I saw the blond man put his hand on his face "See captain, today's young people doesn't respect you anymore, you have lost your charm!" Tony said turning in his chair to watch the conversation

"Ok! We understand, I don't recognize all these humorous jokes, but now is not the right time to talk about it-" the "golden boy" interrupted pointing to the castle in the distance from the glass of the Quinjet "-because we are just arrived"

Then, all the others approached the three of us listening to the captain's "profound" speech. "Let's proceed with the Y/N plan, activate the communicators, always stay in touch and pay attention" he finally pronounced (mostly facing me and Nat, but we think it is in a general tone).

"Ready to infiltrate a top secret Hydra base?" I said (obviously to the creator of the newbie's nightmare) finally opening the door of the aircraft. "Sure, as always, no?" in response the redhead came up and put a hand on my shoulder "Yep, let's go" I moved away at a lightning speed from the touch (I'm still afraid of hurting others, and I don't know if I'll ever stop having it).

[popculturebuffet]

OK KO Let's Be Heroes Halloween Review: Parents Day and Monster Party (Patreon Review by Emma Fici)

Happy halloween all you happy people! It's finally the crux of spooky season as we finish things off with a spooktacular at one of the many, many, manny, mannny, MANNNY, Mannnny, mannnnnyY, mAnNnNnNnNnY, man hey nony nony and a fuck you zaslov shows removed from HBO Max this year, courtesy of my pal Emma Fici. Is WBD and the regime before it being awful to this show the reason she commissioned this? No, I simply suggested it since she had me cover Ghoul School earlier this month and the timing couldn't be more perfect and threw in a surprise bonus episode entirley of my own volition. Is it a nice bonus that I both get to spotlight a show I genuinely love with a lot of my heart that got a raw deal and get to throw more shade at a company i've gone from genuinely loving and respecting to hoping badly gets taken out asap.

So let's watch the show under the cut shall we and see what spooky fun we can have as we both meet Enid's parents.. and in the sequel to that ep some old Ghoulfriends Drop by.

I"ve covered OK KO here before, but since this review is aimed at fans of the show, fans of Ghoul School who might not have seen it, and Emma who definitely hasn't seen it, a small intro is in order. Those of you who are familiar can go wait patiently in the pup tent. I have sent a concierge ahead for you

So in short: OK KO Let's Be Heroes! Was a late 2010's Cartoon Network show by Ian Jones Quarterly. Ian is a modern staple in the industry, having worked on venture bros for several years before moving on to Steven Universe, being one of the main creative forces behind the show alongside the show's creator, his friend, creative partner and eventually romantic partner Rebecca Sugar. He also voice acts both in his own show and in Bravest Warriors, another show on the ever escalating pile of shows I need to talk about.

While his other work is excellent, again the guy was the story editor for steven unvierse that should say enough on it's own, OK KO is really his magnum opus. It's a clear labor of love that naturally got shit on by cartoon network for the crime of having to premire earlier because HBO Max hadn't happened yet and being an action show on a network trying to stamp those out at the time, though given what we've seen with the reign of he who sucks dirty ass in thunderstorms, that woudl've been MARGINALLY better at best. My point is the show had a lot of love put into it, a passionate fanbase, vibrant animation and a wonderful premise we'll get to in a moment.. and got shat on for it. I try to be a forgiving person, but this is one thing I haven't quite let go for damn good reason.

So what's this show about anyway? Well it's simple and it's not: the world of OK KO is a world of heroes and villians, of any and all kinds, with most trying to be the best like no one ever does.. and many running buisnesses out of a strip mall, Lakewood Plaza Turbo. It's here we enter our title character: K.O., a small child of 6-10, which is how this show does ages, and it's every bit as hilarious and stupid as it sounds. He's the son of Carol, formerly Silver Spark of, the local Avengers/JLA/ JSA/Justice Pals/New Justice Team Equilvent, P.O.I.N.T. who now runs a ladies fitness dojo.

Wanting to be the best like no one ever was, KO seeks a job at Gars Bodega, ran by Carols old friend who still nurses an embarassing crush on her Mr. Gar, basically if Mike Haggar had cool shades and used to be a luchador instead of a WWF style wrassler. After some trials, trivales and Carol asking nicely, KO joins the Bodegamen becoming friends with the other far less motivated workers: Egotistical, buff, hannah barbera style alien with teleknesis that makes the old sound effect rad and Naruto style emo ninja enid.

In addition to the normal stuff: running the counter, mopping the deck which is navy for floor, and stocking boxes, they also reguarly have to fight the evil Lord Boxman, played by my dad and yours Jim Cummings who sadly isn't in these episodes, who regularly sends his stupid robot children to fight our heroes and wants to destroy the plaza because it's there. No really he can't stand the fact there's a hero place next door and has an entire episode going into withdrawls becaues he can't attack them for a day lest his investors drop him. Yes he has investors. Yes this show is wonderful

So now you know the plot there's plenty inbetween there and plenty of depth that really makes the show shine: Sure there's silly shenanigans from taking a genie in a soda bottle to court, to KO impersonating Rad for an episode simply by putting on alien antenna and Rad's nametag.. and Rad forgetting he asked for this leading to a Rad off, to a health week with tons of psas and the bots nursing KO back to health before he punches them while they all smile> This show can be utterly goofy and I love it… but there's also a deep backstory involving why Mr. Gar left point , a mysterious shadowy villian in the background and ongoing arcs.

The characters also undergo noticable and engaging character development: KO starts off fairly naive and while he remains optimstic learns from his mistake and slowly grows as a hero while grappling with his inner darkness.. aka an evil emo tweenager split personality what lives in his head, Rad grows from an obnoxious bro to the genuinelyc arring and kind person he is underneath and Enid slowly thaws her icy heart and lets others in. IT's a show with lots of warmth, character, and worldbuilding and I highly recommend it.

So with all that out of the way we can get to the actual episodes.. which are mostly self contained but I can't help ranting about what I love. They still contribute to Enid's character though, both focusing on who she is and her past and helping shade her in a bit. This first one wasn't requested, but I feel since their the only two episodes set at Enid's house and featuring her spooky family, they belong together. This also has a high possibility of being my last singular episode. Possibly. I might do the other crossovers, more on those later, at some point, but as a whole this series deserves it's own full on review which I intend to do I just have to finish venture bros and take care of a few patreon unlocked retrospectives first. But with how little time I have this may come before the amphibia review. Anyways onto the episodes!

Family Day

It's Family Day at the Plaza and Ko is so excited he had to be put in his car seat

Like even for 6 that's a lot.. though that's also the joke so touche Ian. Touche. Basically everyone in the Plaza Brings their parents to visit. The subtle joke that we see Drupe and Ms Mummy's mom, a sentient strawberry and a sentient mummy whose mom's somehow human because this universe found some way to make Tanis parentage even more confusing, despite neither working here at this point. Drupe just loiters outside for now and Ms Mummy lives in the back rooms. And of course as Carol points out she's here every day.

Still K.O.'s excited to meet his best friends parents and we do indeed quickly meet Rad's awkward parents, Ofrang and Theodosia. As I found out looking into Ian, Theodosia is named after his grandmother, Theodosia Okoh, who to my shock lived quite the life. She was a ghanian school teacher who designed the Ghana flag, became the first chair of the Ghana Hockey association and had a stadium named after her, and if I rmemeber right was the basis for Nana Fua, with both the Pizzas and Rad's family being based on Ian's experience as a first generation son of immigrants. As such Ofrang and Theodosia use blorp a lot and frequently embarass their son (and only rad everyone else knows their dope) with their talk of ray guys…

NO really they refrence this joke exactly. .. why did this show only run three seasons? This is a nice moment for Rad though. While he is frequently embarassed by his parents and grumbles with introducing them…. he still told them Parents day was happening, brought them and introduces them to KO. Keep in mind Rad at this point is in the politiest term possible "a fuckboy" who hangs out with a giant teenage baby and a walking armpit, which both sums up wht they are and their personalites. While KO's shown he has a heart beneath the air of obnoxious douche he puts on, it usually has to be dragged out of him. But here he brings his dorky awkard parents without any reservation, at most is exasperated in that sterotypical teen boy way. For him that's a lot. There's no ego or boasting, no Recess style attempt to replace his parents with cooler parents. Bringing his parents to the event is a low bar, sure, but the fact he cleared it without needing an entire episode to says a LOT.

No the one who didn't bring her parents is Enid, which does make sense: Enid is intensely private, with her pasts with Elodie (her best friend/possible giflriend who abandoned her for a shot at the big times and insulted her) and Rad himself (Who she had a crush on.. and who totally fucked it up by being an obnoxious cloud of axe bodyspray on the advice of aformentiond armpit and genetically modified baby), only coming out thanks to Elodie visting (Enid kicked her ass all over the plaza, though tthe two later properly reconcile next season. More on that when I get there some day), and Cupid forcing the issue respectively. Cupid in this universe is buff and dope as fuck by the way. I didn't NEED to mention that.. but I wanted to so here we are.

Enid claims their on a mission, nopes out of her shift (with Rad hilariously going "We have shifts?", as the show is not afraid of poking fun at itself), and thus KO and Rad decide to do the responsible thing.. and stalk their friend to her house to find out what she's hiding.

That would be unsettling.. if it wasn't so hilariously done with KO casually telling his mom "We're gonna go spy on enid" with a simple Kay from carol and Rad's dad giving him a ray gun.

Our heroes tail her in Rad's sweet van. Dendy, KO's stoic best friend his age and presumed future wife isn't in it this time which is weird. Maybe she had a piano recital. What they find shocks them as Enid's house is a mad monster mansion, enid dresses as a witch, and in his EXACT words, Rad tells us her parents are "A Hot Vampire and a Hot Werewolf". Which tells us Rad is bi.. as did the intensely homerotic dance battle that the crew entirely knew what they were doing with earlier in the season. This show is gay as fuck and I love it for that and about 100 other reasons

Naturally the trained ninja catches them spying on her.. but so do Enid's parents, so they get inside and Rad, being rad, naturally asks a bunch of questions about general spooky stuff such as skeletons in the closest to Wil ("We do but we don't like to talk about them") and bats in the belfry ("I do hang up there sometimes" ). Rad is back to being the shitlord we know and love and Enid can't stand it for understandable reasons. The boys even get invited to dinner, but not before meeting Enid's brothers boris and Icky, a frankenstien and a pumpkinhead respectively. Now you may be asking how the hell any of this works given Bernard's a Wolf, Wil's a Vampire, and their children are none of those things. And that's kind of the point. Sometimes the show has iron tight canon.. and other times it's world runs entirley on nonsense with little to no explination. It's part of it's charm: it knows when to properly explain shit and when to just have things be delightful cartoon nonsense, like the sun being a sentient being with sunglasses you can surivive being thrown into.

So the dinner is naturally our adorable monster couple showing off Enid's baby pictures.. and her dancing in a pizza for no reason while she prays for death btu death won't come. Meanwhile some ghosts hide bellow and decide they aren't getting enough attention so they plot to attack.

Naturally KO being a baby boy baby lets slip Enid's a ninja and her parents are again it, as "Ninjas aren't scary". And it's.. honestly hard to watch despite you know… it being two monsters complaning about their daughter being an anime ninja. While this is more hiding your career than say a sexuality or something, it comes off that way, with Enid being utterly terrified her parents know. Granted the most the two do is not be happy with it, but it's still sad to see two people who were perfectly happy turn on their daughter in an instant.. not too harshly but just enough.

Thankfully the ghosts posses her friends.. which usually isn't a godo thing but having to fight these two idiots not only shows off JUST how powerful B and Wil are… but allows Enid to say screw it, go into ninja mode and summon jutsu a giant shadow monster that whollops their asses in the most terrifying way possible, while Wil finishes the job by swallowing their souls.. and spitting them out. I mean the ghosts are their guests. Can't kill them and the most they did was run arround and do shenanigans. Their fine. They know not to fuck with Wil now.

What's nice though is that while , naturally Enid's parents now see Ninjas can be scary, the real nice line is them bemonaing how they coudl've been so "ignorant". I often forget tha tline but it's the thing that makes this episode work. Without it it just comes off as "oh well your talent is like us we like it now" and more them realizing they were wrong to not only not see it could be.. but to not let their daughter live their life. Totally cool with her being bi though. I mean it's been on her bike for ages, they know. Also she brought her girlfriend home so it's kind of a big sign. They hug, Enid decides to invite them and we ge ta suprisingly nice moment from Rad, who admits he was laughing sure, as he puts it "you know I express myself in the most obnoxious way possible" but he related, also being embarassed by his parents. It was in good fun. And Enid invites the two to visit some time.. you know when their invited and not following her home. That's creepy. Stop it. Happy end for all.

Monster Party

So we've come to the series halloween episode , one of two but the other I may save for th efuture, the full series review or just whenever. And with this we need to talk about the shows crossovers.

See crossovers don't happen a ton these days and when they do their with shows that are both on at the time or are in the same universe, like Steven Unvierse's classic crossover with uncle grandpa that should not have worked but is one of the series funniest episodes, or Milo Murphy's Law season 2 opening crossover with Phenias and Ferb… which hopefully will get it's own with hamster and gretel. Please.. I fucking need this please.

So it makes OK KO's crossovers stand out: Ian didn't entirely avoid contemperary crossovers, as Rad showed up on the shortly lived and underated Mighty Magiswords (ANOTHER victim of the Zaslav curse) for what ended up being it's finale, and Season 2 had the epic and worth it's own review Crossover Nexus, with KO teaming up with Garnet, Reboot!Ben Tennyson and GO!Raven to stop a generic villian and save CN City.. yes from those old promos.

But that last bit is what really defines Ian's crossovers: Ian goes for what he WANTS to crossover with no matter how weird it is often going back to the very begingings of cartoon network. As such KO met captain planet and WOULD have met Space Ghost had it not been for the tragic passing of George Lowe and Martin C Crocker, and later met Sonic the Hedgehog, a crossover that took until season 3 to get through Sega but thankfully happened. Maybe sonic MOnth next yeah hmmm? He even provided a finale to his early webcomic RPG World despite now resenting the thing, finding a healthy way to end it and give his main character Hero closure.

So while this crossover was a nice suprise, in the context of the show it's not. The real shock is that he pulled this off: that despite being in an era of Scooby Doo where they constantly tried to act like real monsters didn't exist, they let Ian do a whole episode on characters who surely did. Granted part of it was likely that Scooby, Shaggy and Scrappy are absent. The former two get mentioned offhand, and the latter is naturally persona non grata, but at least gets a spirtual mention as Rad does his own version of the scrappy rap. It's still amazing though as unlike the other crossovers which are just "our heroes happen to end up in a crossover and it's fun and stuff", this one, while having some small elements of that, weaves the girls into Enid's backstory. Had the show continued they could've shown up AGAIN based on this ep alone. It's one thing to have a crossover it's another to weld them to your universe but Ian got away with it and made it look flawless. Well almost. The episode has issues but makign the Grimwood Girls a part of Enid's backstory and old friends of hers isn't remotely one of them.

As for how our old friends get in here, it's fairly simple: Enid's enjoying a day off when her parents announce her old Ghoul School friends are visiting. They told her but well.. she was on her phone which i'd call a stupid teen sterotype.. but as a grown ass man I also often miss important stuff being on my phone or tablet, so fair play.

Enid is actually happy about it, only put out because she's in her day off clothes, and talks to Rad about it as she was already facetiming him. KO is also there hiding in Enid's pot, although given he's with Boris and Icky I theorize he was hanging out iwth them as he's everyone's friend, and just so happened to hear about Enid's old friends.

The show also does a good job explaning why despite being a friend of the girls Enid wasn't in the movie without her feeling forced into the backstory.. by simply using Enid's own backstory: Enid was at Grimwood before the film, but not being happy bein ga witch, she transfered to Lakewood where she could be her ninja self, and as Ashly Burch so brilliantly delivers it "Met the people who ruined my life, including your stinky butt". A mixed bag.

Rad HAS evolved to the poitn he's not fucking shit up intentionally.. but he still fucks shit up, bringing up how it'll be a shock Enid isn't a witch and get sin her head so we naturally get a "character pretends to be what their not episode".. which is EASILY the weakest part of this whole thing. Like even if they call her their witch, anyone whose seen Ghoul Schools knows these girls: Their acceptable, loving and kind. They'd be fine if she was a Ninja as it ends up bearing out. They accepted a 20 something jughead clone, a great dane and a smaller great dane who raps. They can accept a Naruto Ninja. So there's no real supsense or anything. Not only that as KO says

Enid has grown past needing to hide from people or being open with people, so this plot really dosen't work and feels like it was plotted out a season ago before the POINT Prep arc crystalized how far she came as a character.

Yet the episode works for the same reason the film did despite it's own flaws: The Girls. The Grimmwood Girls are every bit as kind, lovely and welcoming as they were int heir own movie and we get the same amount of spooky fun. Their older now which fits and also gives us ages for the older girls: mid-middle school, probably 7th or 8th grades as their slightly taller than enid in a flashback, which is done in the style of ghoul school, so likely when Enid was in 6th grade since most of her drama happened in 8th, so Enid either transfered mid-year or during 6th and as we saw the school takes most ages, though given the girls have left it they've either graduated or went on to ghoul high school. Either way I think it's neat. It's still vauge, the show loves vauge ages as we've established, but in a way that's easy to figure out. The Girls designs aren't touched much though, still looking like their iconic outfits just teenage versions, except for Tanis and Winnie who are still childrens since they were only 4 or 5 in the original. Elsa gets the biggest change having a longer flowier dress and more normal sandals instead of the platform ones from the movie, but their all great and they adapt to the OK KO art style easily.

One thing that's also barely changed.. is the voice actresses. Incredibly all but TWO Va's returned for this. This is shocking both because only one of them was all that active these days, and because Cartoon Network gladly paid the money for all of them. Not only that the only two that don't return are due to circumstances beyond th eteam's control: Marilyn Scheffler sadly died, so Natalie Palimedes steps up as winnie while Patty Maloney was retired due to injuries discussed last time, and thus Kristin Li stepped in as Tanis. BOth do a great, job and I could only SLIGHTLY tell with Tanis and still had to look up who was replaced. Susan Blu, Pat Musick and Russi Taylor all return, all stepping back into their old rolls like the 80's were yesterday. Russi in paticular was INCREDIBLY lucky as she sadly passed on the year after this episode aired. It shows her talent that much like Teen Donald that same year, you coudln't tell how bad her health was and her delivery was as good as ever. I truly miss her and i'm greatful she got to play Phanty one last time.

The five characters feel like they never left us, being just as joyful, full of puns and happy. The episode works so well because while Enid was rectonnced into the group, she serves as as stand in for us: someone who hasn't seen these girls for a very long time and are utterly happy to see their old friends again, vibrant as ever with all their old quirks, sibella's hair cape and winnie using all fours in tact

We also get to see the girls be badass, as clearly like many of us Ian wasn't really happy with how the whole last act went down, and shows just what the girls are capable of after years of extra honing of their powers with the episodes best scene: the monster showcase, with the girls deciding to show off all their powers. Their funny, charming and entirely badass: Winnie makes a replica of Michealangelos david in seconds with her claws tazzmanian devil style, Tanis casually reads while lifting up Enid's Parents Doom buggy WITH Ko and Iggy inside with ONE strand of her hair, phanty posses Ko for a sec and makes him do a jig, and Elsa shocks herself with a kite

Sibella easily wins the show though, revealing that in addition to her old bat form she can now create a SWARM of bats, usese them to create a stage mid air and dances with a gentleman also madeo ut of bats.. before going all red eyed and fangy and eating his head whole

Like she was always the strongest of the group, but god damn. Also Phanty is just.. so fucking enamored the whole time. I didn't think i'd be shipping these two but here we are.

While KO chastises Rad for hecking up… though he's in Jail so he's thankfully been punished for his hubris, it's a whole runner, Enid tries doing a spell but it's been so long since she tried magic, she can't remember them and brings a tree to life.. that eats the children.

Enid is forced to admit her shame.. and while against his plot dosen't work for me the resolution is as obvious.. as it is Grimwood. The girls are not only utterly HAPPY for enid being a nInja.. but always knew, her having dropped her manga in said flashback which we go back to and all it getting out of Phanty is a "oh that makes sense" before they all smiled. THey love enid for Enid not being a witch just as they love scrappy for scrappy and not being a dope ass rapper. They all hug.. then kick a tree's ass as a team. Seriously give these girls a spinoff I beg of you. i get Warner isn't making good decisions but come the fuck on. Phanty posseses it, elsa pries the kids out, and enid uses her shadow possesion jutsu to stop the tree while Sibella rescues the girls and swallows the tree's soul, all cuimlating in rad arriving from the moon in time to lay out rhymes. All in all a fantgastic episode> is it perfect. No but can it entirely coast on reuniting all these amazing characters and having a ton of heart and charm just like the original film? Hell yeah. Consider joining my patreon, follow for more reviews, thanks for reading.. and Happy Halloween!

[fduplegacy]

one time Ken locked up Audrey without evidence

When she got free, first thing she did was mail a glitterbomb to his house. The wife was so happy her husband got mail that she drove to the office to deliver it personally.

It exploded all over his face. He walked out of the precinct to find Audrey sitting in a bench by the park, leaning back and hiding her face behind a coffee cup. He could tell she was smiling though.

They found no prints or evidence on the box. Even the glitter used on the bomb was not sold within the state. He couldn't do anything about it.

Adam took a picture of Ken's angry face and they hung it up on the livingroom.

"Red glitter does wonders for his 'stache" said Adam as he marveled upon the angry red expression on the photo.

"Good thing it's gonna stay there for months" replied Audrey with an uncharacteristic chirpness in her tone.

"Or years" Adam shrugged

"His rotting corpse will still have glitter on it when the time comes." she said with a smirk. Adam felt his heart skip. Her smiles were few and far between. But he was always the reason for them. He extended his arm to wrap around her shoulders. She allowed this.

"I must say... this was way better than killing him." Adam said in a relaxed tone as he leaned his head over hers.

"Let time take care of that. He's senile enough." Her stance relaxed under Adam. It always did, even if she didn't realize it.

"I do feel bad for the wife. She seems nice..."

"She didn't get caught on the crossfire. Besides, whe laughed as well... might send her cookies though... a peace offering?" She turned her head to meet his eyes.

"Deliver them in person. She won't trust packages for a while." He leaned down to nuzzle her face, then he bit the apple of her cheek, softly at first. Then she pushed him once the mark of his teeth was left on her skin.

"Serves her right. She fell for the Nigerian Prince mail more times than I can count." She said as she rubbed her cheek.

"She's old... cut her some slack." Adam said as he nuzzled her head again, an apology for the bite.

"I don't care. The sheriff will though. How come his wife is still dense enough to fall for that?" She let him hug her again, accepting the apology.

"Do better, Geraldine... how else can we face the town?" He said in a raspy tone, mocking Ken's voice.

"But what if the prince really does need our help? Maybe we'll get a medal for our troubles..." Audrey responded in a convincing old lady voice.

Adam laughed before hugging her tighter, squeezing her until she was squirming in his arms. He didn't even flinch at her struggle, and the more she fought, the harder he held her. He hummed and swayed them as he hugged her, and sisnt let go until she bit his arm hard enough to make him hiss.

"I have things to do." Audrey said in a stern tone as she walked away from him, not without running her hand over the new bite mark on his arm.

"Fine... but I'm not letting you off the hook." Adam said as he followed behind her.

"Didn't expect you to. Are you gonna help or no?" She said calmly as she began setting up the things she needed for that day's blog.

"What are you making?" He asked as he leaned on the counter, setting the things down as she passed them to him.

"Tomato soup and homemade bread... maybe mash potatoes too if I feel like it" She said as she pulled out pans and wooden spoons.

"Do I get to taste test?" He asked with a pleading grin.

"You get to cut the food. Then we eat when it's done." She replied, standing back up to stare at him. "You've seen it before, so why the question?"

"You never let me lick the spoon..." he said in a pouty tone.

"It's gross. And I do let you lick the spoon when I make desserts, not when it goes back on the pot."

"Fine. But you're making it up to me" he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Spoiled.." she said with a slow shake of her head, hiding the smallest of smiles. He noticed it anyway.

"Who's fault is it?"

"Mine, of course. I wouldn't expect otherwise."

[sondrox]

Through Rocks and Snow Ch. 11 - Golden Ridge

FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14146784/11/Through-Rocks-and-Snow

AO3: Through Rocks and Snow - Chapter 11

11. Golden Ridge

Prompt: Unfasten

Madeline has been let loose to meander on her own after her fiasco with Mr. Oshiro. Just like him, she wanted to be left alone. Sadly, once the Celestial Resort disappeared in the distance, she found the old lady in a cabin with a small wooden elevator, serving as a resting point nearby the ridge’s entrance.

“Oh great, you again.” Madeline struggled against a huge urge to turn around and walk away from her; she would have done so if her paralyzing anxiety wasn’t stronger.

“Well, well, I didn't expect to see you up here! I'm glad you're still in one piece. I see you made it through the hotel, did you meet Mr. Oshiro?”

Madeline intended to give her the shortest of summaries to the old lady, but sooner than later she ended up rambling more than she would have liked to, earning a solid laugh from the lady.

“Oshiro is a lost soul, dear. That place is more than just a hotel to him. You can’t change that. Everything we do is to feel safe. No one is exempt of that.” There was again that unexpectedly wise and for some reason good-natured woman Madeline met at the foot of the mountain. Or at least the woman Madeline thought she met if she had not been so nervous about going to the mountain.

Safe. That was a nice feeling, but…

“Don’t you get lonely in that little cabin?” Madeline inquired.

“I have friends, dear. I may be crazy, but I'm not a hermit.”

“Sorry…I didn’t mean to assume.”

“When I was younger I couldn't imagine staying in one place this long. But then I found this mountain. I knew right away that it would be my home.”

“What's so special about it?”

“The mountain shows you who you really are. Whether you're ready for it or not. It keeps me honest.”

Madeline cringe at herself a bit on the inside upon hearing that last part. She knows she has not done that a lot recently. It was not that she was bad at dealing with her problems. She didn’t even allow herself to deal with her problems at all!

Madeline got mixed feelings once she was alone again with her thoughts. That is what she wanted, right? No one to judge her and quiet.

No one to accompany her and too quiet.

Hell, what was she thinking? No, seriously. What was this train of thought?

She tried to focus on the here and now. She tried to put the whole Celestial Resort matter behind her. It was already behind her. So it was the old lady. She didn’t need her. She didn’t need anyone. She was all she needed.

She was all she had.

Was that comforting or terrifying?

Comforting were the clouds she found she could actually…jump on them? Madeline was so…numbed…by everything that had happened. She didn’t question those clouds too much. She didn’t have the energy or the mood to do that anyways.

She heard insanity was repeating something over and over again waiting for a change. A concept she was sure familiar with. But maybe so it was being fine with unfastening what she knew as possible or capable?

She was safe. She knew that. Relatively safe.

She could be grateful she didn’t have it worse, right?

At some point Madeline reached high ridges of purple rocks and orange skies abounded with sporadic blizzards hitting her with all the strength the mountain could gather. Madeline could only counter it a tad using all of her own strength to simply not get pushed back nor be dragged away from the walls she held onto when wind blew deadly. Her feet were loose on the ground against the strong wind, always slipping at her every step.

The snow covered her face to the point she could not see at times. As if blindness was not bad enough when climbing a mountain, the freezing blizzards started to numb her skin and fingers. Moving so nimble as the mountain demanded more and more effort from her.

Her body became sloppy and heavy. Holding herself to the walls was much more difficult and she had to double her efforts to keep her grasp in the rocky walls where she would fall to bottomless pits otherwise. Her endeavor was such, Madeline could feel small cuts in her fingertips from the pressure she applied when clutching the rocks—Should have thought of buying gloves.

Madeline had barely managed to climb up to a platform dragging her body over the edge in a sloppy manner, like she herself was but a lifeless puppet, before laying down on the ground with her eyes lost in the yellowish and orange skies. Her strengths were so worn out her hands quivered from the strenuous task Madeline put herself into and no longer from the cold environment.

She could sit down for a while there. Give herself a break and catch her breath.

Dammit! She could take some water out of her backpack!

But the mere thought of doing that made her want to throw up. The fainting exercise she just did surely had nothing to do with that last thing.

Madeline had had her mind empty for longer than a few seconds and the accident in the Celestial Resort already popped up back in her mind. Madeline tried to distract herself focusing on the next batches of abyss and obstacles in front of her and already put her mind in working how to solve them; she was not even half way doing just that when she stood up and cleaned the cold sweat off her face.

“I deserve this,” Madeline said to the air, not having the strength to care if someone listened. Unbeknownst to her, someone did in fact. The sharp chirp of a blue bird in a high ridge let her know that. Madeline sighed. “This is what I get for being useless.”

She just wanted to help Mr. Oshiro. But in doing so, she did what she did best. Ruin everything. This was barely enough punishment for her stupidity.

Madeline had reached what seemed to be a small cave that served as a refugee from the freezing blizzards. She grinded her teeth seeing herself protected. If that was because of stress or for her shaking body, she couldn’t tell.

But she could tell the feeling of loathing anger burning inside her heart. She clutched at said feeling, not caring it may warm her now, at the price of leaving her cold in her grave. Such grave being Mountain Celeste. But contrary to a burning hell, Madeline submitted herself to endure yet another blizzard, taking directly with no attempt of protecting herself and continued through the ridges with golden skies.

There Madeline was again. Letting loose on herself over more problems to not deal with the ones she already had. She didn’t want to deal with the problems she put herself into—mindly!—to avoid the OTHER problems she ran away from in the first place.

How many problems unfastened would be enough?

She eventually reached what appeared to be a gondola at the edge of a large pit in which she could appreciate the entrance to an old structure at the other side, high up above, but before she could inspect the gondola, a voice broke her solitude.

“Madeline! Wait up!

Madeline looked up and found Theo at a higher boulder. As if she had not traveled across the freezing torture the golden ridge was, Madeline put on a friendly mask and put a smile on her face unfastening herself once more from her problems, and certainly attempted to unfasten from the cold shaking her body carried.

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

And next to my least favorite level in the game is my favorite level in the game! I wanted to add a little extra effort for this ocassion. That, and because I want to approach this chapter and the following ones with the same perspective I talked about in the previous chapter. Making you see what otherwise you couldn't see. I hope I achieved that in this chapter.

This perspective which I'll call the "Something More Method", or SMM, is based on the Daft Punk song, Touch. "Tell me what you see, I need something more." Maybe I'll talk a little more about it in the future.

Anyways, I'm actually pretty happy with how this chapter turned out, but I don't think this has the effect the SSM is intended to give. Is a lot of introspection and extrapolating, and sure, that's fine, that's fun even. But I don't want to just introspect and extrapolate, I want to create. I want something more. Although Golden Ridge is my favorite level, I believe this chapter shares the same problem with Theo Old Site. I just couldn't find enough material to build something new, something more.

Are you still keeping up with me? Good.

A fun fact about this chapter I read on youtube. Golden Ridge and The Summit are, arguably, the only two chapters in the game where you are actually climbing the mountain.

A not so fun fact about Golden Ridge I read on youtube: Madeline in Golden Ridge is pushing herself to her body's limits against the cold wind because of what happened with Oshiro. That's some heavy self-punishment there.

I seriously considered giving Granny the main POV in this chapter. But I didn't because if I had, I couldn't build this chapter around the concept of the not so fun fact. Besides, based on the prompt of this chapter, writing Granny's POV would have been difficult, to say the least.

Second fun fact: If I had given Granny the main POV, this would have been the fifth chapter in a row where Madeline doesn't actually has the main POV since Badeline Chase.

Again I surpassed the word limit, I'm considering either delete it, or not care that much anymore whether I stay within it or not, and more than a rule, use it like a guide.

I think that's all the rambling I have for the ocassion. See ya.

[coutelier]

Irongate: B-Naturals

Little excerpt from Chapter 2. There aren’t any huge changes to this chapter from previous drafts - just dialogue and other tweaks, a little bit of extra foreshadowing when Kaya is remembering her childhood adventures in a scene after this.

‘In an uncertain and ever changing world, one group safeguards and lights the way to the future. For decades our AI systems have guided investments across the globe and now with our partners at Stag Corp we’re looking to secure the future of our environment. The tower we are testing in Irongate contains billions of synthetic micro-organisms that feed on pollutants in our atmosphere and expel only harmless byproducts including oxygen and water. Soon this bio-technology will be deployed around the world and in time will pave the way for human conquest of worlds beyond.

We are Meridiem.

We are The Sun.’

The commercial ended with a dazzling display of dentistry, lens flare lingering as its surroundings faded into the gold clock or star of Meridiem. Kaya Cade flicked the TV to another channel and flipped one red pony tail over her shoulder, her nose and mouth crumpled as if some stranger had just themselves in her door then taken a big dump in front of her sofa. “Right,” she shook, “these numbnuts screw us over for decades using up resources without a care, but now they expect everyone to applaud them for fixing the mess they made? Won’t be long before they start claiming they own all oxygen and charge us all for breathing it. I tell ya,” she scornfully turned from the TV, hazel eyes locking on to a nearby spectator, “one of these days there’s gonna be revolution. There’ll riots, blood, guts, brains blown out and splattered all over their nice white yachts - we’ll see how the one per cent like it when its them in the red.” Leaning over the counter next to the till her T-Shirt bearing the logo B-Naturals, she sniffed, “anyway - what do you need?”

Facing Kaya a tiny girl in a cotton frock blinked back at her, needing a moment to gather herself and remember why she was here. “I-I,” she stammered, little hands holding a flute, “I’d like to buy this please.”

“Sure,” Kaya proceeded with scanning and running the transaction through the till while Neil, her supervisor, gawked. “What?”

He frowned at her from behind his little round sunglasses, “what is wrong with you?”

“Nothing wrong with me,” she tried scanning the tag hanging off the flute several times only for the machine to flash ‘error’. “It’s the damn system that’s broken.”

“It’s not so much what you say, but who you say it to. I mean she’s, what, nine?”

The girl corrected, “eight.”

“Well,” Kaya finished the sale manually, “you’re gonna to learn the harsh truths of this world sooner or later.”

Taking her flute and change the girl informed her, “you got issues, lady.”

“Yeah, well, when you’re old enough to have had all your dreams crushed and find yourself on the other side of a counter like this, you’ll have issues too.”

The girl wisely chose not to further engage, making hastily for the exit. Neil continued to glower at Kaya who pretended to be confused then remember, “oh flip yeah, I forgot. Hey!” She called after the girl, “we doing an offer on violin strings - fifty per cent off!”

The girl called back as she was pulling open the store door, “don’t play violin!”

“Well got any siblings? It’s a great murder weapon!” The girl was gone, leaving Kaya to sag behind the counter. “Rude.”

Neil exhaled slowly like a teacher whose patience was nearing its limit. He tapped, objects jingle and jangling on his hip. “See these?”

Kaya gasped in mock awe, “The Keys of Responsibility! I thought they only existed in legend… can I touch them?”

He slapped her wriggling fingers away, “if you want to be trusted with these one day you’re going to have to knuckle down and take this job seriously.”

“Was this supposed to be a motivational thing? Because you’re actually just depressing the hell out of me right now.”

As he’d been motivating her, the same door the girl exited opened again, a balding man with what was presumably his son entering. “Why don’t you go and be helpful for a change?” Neil suggested while Kaya drummed on the counter. “Snap to it, comrade. Go!”

Kaya guessed she was being kind of a jerk. She was hardly alone in the world being stuck in a job seemingly designed to suck employees of their joy and enthusiasm to feed some Eldritch God of Capitalism. She still loved music, and if she made it through the day maybe she’d get to enjoy it again. The only other skills she had were pretty much the reason karma was now tormenting her so. So she decided to bite her tongue, put on her best fake smile, and say, “can I help you, sir?”

The elder man was of stocky build and short - not much taller than the boy who Kaya estimated to be very early teens. The elder with little beads of sweat on his head turned to her with a toothy grin. “Thirteenth birthday,” he explained, “boy wants to learn electric guitar.”

“Say no more,” Kaya interrupted, keen on not hearing their biographies, “we have some packages for beginners over here.” Wasn’t long before she was giving a demonstration. For a few blissful seconds the vibrations and waves from the amp washed over, cleansing her, the troubles of the world seeming so very distant.

The others seemed appreciative of her melody. Too appreciative. Kaya heard clapping as she put the guitar back on the stand, and then… she must have imagined it, right? There was no way the father would have slapped her butt. Guys were often too confident they could get away with stuff without consequences, but not in front of his kid, right? Must have been her imagination, and now he was asking her something about lessons. Must have been her imagination.

Before she could question that again the boy started whining, “that’s the guitar Ethan’s got. I want a better one.”

Kaya blinked her way back to lucidity, recalling she was still in the store doing her actual job for once. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with this guitar.”

“That’s the one I want.”

Kaya stuck her tongue into her cheek. The one the boy was pointing at was truly a nice guitar - mahogany, maple neck, custom pickups. She would have liked to buy it herself, but in her current situation it would be a long time before she could afford it. It was definitely not for this entitled brat. “That’s custom built - it’s for real pros. While you’re learning you want one of these.”

“No, I want that one.”

“Yeah, well I’m not going to sell you that one.”

The father peered at her, “I mean, I have the money so I’m not sure you really have a choice.”

“Right,” Kaya bit her lip, looking like a gerbil for a second while she tried to stifle her frustrated grin. “I see what’s going on here,” she went over, putting her hands on knees so she was face to face with the boy, “listen kid - it’s not about Ethan having a better guitar than you. It’s your personality girls find repulsive.”

“Hey, you can’t talk to him like that!”

Kaya spun up and around, taking the dad by the arm to lead away so she could whisper, “listen fella - I’m trying to do you a favor here. You really want to spend all that on something he’s just going to pluck at for a few days then give up when he doesn’t already sound like Hendrix?”

“Well, I guess when you put it like-“

The boy dared to ask, “who’s Hendrix?”

Shortly after, sirens wailed in the street around B-Naturals.

[neiptune]

if i get burned, at least we were electrified

(sanemi x female reader)

warnings: mentions of abuse, wounds, mild sexual harassment, cursing, one small reference to alcohol

a/n: am i still taking a break from writing for kny? yes. did this sanemi piece have to come out anyway? also yes. is the title a taylor swift reference? hell to the fucking yes.

"Can you slow down?", you hiss, feeling the fabric of your traditional wedding kimono stick to your sweaty back because, apparently, it's three thousand degrees outside and neither of you had any say in the clothes you were told to wear.

"No", he replies dryly, not even sparing you a glance.

"Fuck you, then", you mutter between gritted teeth, doing your best to keep up with his annoyingly fast and steady pace.

"If you're this slow in battle as well, we're both fucked".

"Your clothing isn't as uncomfortable as mine, Shinazugawa", you do your best not to sound desperate, feet hurting in those damn high heeled wooden geta, strands of hair escaped from the elaborated hairstyle Mitsuri has helped you improvise and sticking to your forehead, the knives hidden under your kimono painfully poking your thighs.

"Get rid of the shoes", he does nothing to hide his irritation, which has the pleasant effect of enhancing yours.

"The road is muddy".

"Do you want me to carry you or something?"

"Thanks, I'd rather cut my arm off".

Sanemi is still not looking at you, which is why you fail to notice the little smile he tries so hard not to crack.

Truth is, he's grateful. Honestly, thank fuck for your endless complaining, your frown, the edginess of your voice, the distance he can keep between you two. All of that is essential to keep things normal. As normal as they can be anyway, considering the ridiculous situation master Oyakata has forced you two into.

Some rumors came from quite a few villages of the Kento region, fear spreads like a wildfire and soon enough the corps came to know about something allegedly attacking civilians. Wed or newly wed civilians. It all sounded ridiculous, but demon slayers were never in the position to doubt or stall, so you two got ready the second your master asked you to. Mitsuri and Shinobu were busy and there was no other girl in your group, obviously. Oyakata-sama could've picked someone else to accompany you as your husband, anyone, but for some reason, Sanemi's dumb ass volunteered. Sure, he did before the master got to specify the whole fake wedding situation, but still, he did.

You wanted to ask him why he saw fit to send two hashiras on an apparently easy, regular inspection, but you knew better than to question his judgement. So you kept your mouth shut, let Amane-sama and Mitsuri fix your clothes and hair, resisted the urge to compliment the appearence of one of your most irritating comrades when you met him outside your master's mansion. You clean up well, you wanted to say. He looked nice in traditional, civilian clothes, with his hair fairly tamed and a frown less deep than usual. For a second, you thought he was going to say something to you as well, and you could've sworn that something was not going to be one of his usual barked insults. But he said nothing, he just turned around and started walking in the direction of the village you were supposed to patrol, faded green travel bag bouncing on his shoulder at every step.

It's sundown when you arrive at the village. You have a chance to take a look around and take note of the incredibly low number of people you encounter along the way. When registering at the family owned inn you're supposed to stay at for the night, the old lady behind the counter smiles kindly and explains that the locals prefer not to be outside when it gets dark, as quite a few people have been disappearing lately.

"How many?", you ask, trying to sound as worried as possible.

"Oh, I think it was at least three. Or was it four? People say they've been kidnapped, but maybe they simply decided to leave. There's nothing to be afraid of, this is quite a boring village my dear".

"We're gonna need a room", Sanemi's tone is hasty and it's hard to resist the urge to step on his foot. You wonder if he's gonna be able to pause the absolute aversion he has for you and actually commit to the mission enough to pretend you're his wife. But when you reach over to take the keys from the old lady, he's quicker. Not only he grabs them, he's also incredibly swift and graceful as he balances them in his left hand along with both of your travel bags, while the fingers of his right hand easily slip in between yours.

"Thank you", he bows and leaves you zero time to react as he practically drags you away from the counter, and you really have nothing much to focus on except for how big and solid and warm and nice his hand feels.

He doesn't let go until you're inside your room, travel bags sbruptly dropped on the floor as he moves over to the dresser to look inside and snorts.

"Should've guessed it", he grumbles and you peek over his shoulder to see the single, neatly folded futon.

"I hope the floor is comfortable", you smile sweetly.

He just grunts in response, leaving the room without saying a single word to take a bath before dinner is delivered. You have to wait until everyone's asleep to go out and actually start doing your job: a job he really cares about doing well, it seems. Definitely more than what you had anticipated.

Nothing. Not a single clue, a scream, a scent, some loose soil, a noise. Hours spent wandering around the village, jumping from tree to tree, exploring roofs, listening intently for any change in the cool air of the night. Nothing.

The sun is basically about to come up when you surrender and head back to the inn, grumpy and tired and honestly hoping no one will catch you sneaking back in your room with leaves in your hair and clothes so different from the ones you were wearing a few hours prior.

You make a stop to the restroom to freshen up and get into your nightwear, leaving him some time to do the same. You've never been on a mission together, the vast majority of the information you have gathered about Sanemi comes from a few sparring sessions, some meetings, the comments of your other companions. He dislikes you, although you doubt it's personal, as he seems to dislike everybody equally. Well, maybe he hates Kyojuro a little less, and Tomioka a little more, but his standards are frankly beyond your understanding. It's just weird, the thought of having to be alone with him for a few days. Sleeping in the same room, pretending to be his spouse. He's someone you've never really talked to, it just was automatic, the way you responded to his aggressive behavior with equal hostility. But was there a point in being hostile, anyway? Maybe you could smooth things over, at least for a couple of days. If he's willing to take your hand, from time to time, maybe he's also willing to get along.

When you close the shoji doors behind you, he's already in a dark blu jinbei, busy drawing the thick, dark curtains to protect the room from even the slightest hint of sunshine. He's also already laid out the futon for you. A nice gesture, just what you need to reciprocate.

"Hey", you approach in the friendliest way possible. His eyes are on you in an instant. Is he nervous?

"We can share it", you declare as you sit down, cross legged on the soft sheets. He sits on the tatami floor, right in front of you.

"Thanks, I'd rather cut my arm off", he retorts mockingly. It's a second, a fraction of a second, but you see it as he sits. A flinch, the slight spasm of lips.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?", you ask, confused. How is it possible? You haven't faced anything. Yet.

"My ears are hurting, so shut the fuck up and go to sleep", he grumbles. You don't buy it and, on all fours, you're quick enough to reach him and lift the corner of his shirt. His hand is quick as well, as it violently slaps yours away. Not quick enough for you to miss them, though. Stitches, probably a courtesy of Shinobu.

"What the fuck?!", he snarls, eyes burning with something similar to both anger and embarrassment.

"That's it, you're taking the futon", your tone is firm, and you hope to the gods he's tired enough not to indulge in further debate. Wishful thinking, of course.

"Get fucked".

"What are you being so stubborn about? Just take it!"

"I don't need your pitiful sympathy".

Jesus, getting along might be harder than you had imagined. But the beauty of obstinacy is that, usually, it's a game two can play. And you take pride in being one hell of a player.

You absolutely ignore his fiery gaze as you crawl on the tatami floor and casually lie down right next to him with a content sigh that has an infuriating effect.

"What are you doing?", he asks between gritted teeth, frown so deep you would find it funny hadn't it been for your eyes being already shut.

"Going to sleep. Can you be quiet?"

"I'm too tired for this bullshit, get in the damn futon".

"I think the floor is a nice change, I like experimenting".

He lets out a guttural growl.

"Do you have to experiment right next to me?"

If you had known Sanemi Shinazugawa a tiny bit better than you did, you would've sensed the absolute tension and nervousness coating his angered tone. But you don't know him well enough, so you simply can't tell that he is embarrassed, and overly self-conscious, and absolutely fuming at the fact that your proximity is making him so tense. Why aren't you nervous? How can you be that relaxed, lying on the floor, eyes shut, absolutely vulnerable and exposed and feeling so normal about it?

You turn your back to him and curl up in a fetal position, which allows you to hide a smile.

"I'm scared of demons", is your blunt reply.

Sanemi snorts, body still completely frozen. God, you're such an infuriating idiot. So, what now? Does he actually lie next to you on the stupid floor just to prove his stupid point? Does he drag you inside the stupid futon? Does he crawl inside the stupid thing himself because those stitches are, indeed, giving him hell?

"Fine, dumbass. We'll sleep together", he snaps, with a wording so inappropriate you can't stop yourself from peeking at him from over your shoulder with an amused grin.

"Not even buying me dinner first?"

In disbelief, he stares at you, and hadn't the room been almost completely dark, you wouldn't have missed the pink suddenly coating his cheeks.

"Kidding, joking, please don't go apeshit", you're quick to avoid his gaze and crawl back into the futon before he gets the chance to explode in another one of his fits. But, much to your surprise, he's quiet as he tucks himself in, filling the empty spot right next to you.

Despite his roughness, you really want him to be as comfortable as possible, and that simply won't happen if your awfully close bodies touch more than an appropriate amount which, according to him, is probably none. No appropriate amount to justify your leg or arm brushing against his, no appropriate amount would excuse your breath reaching his shoulder or your hair tickling his neck.

So you turn your back to him once again, doing your best to curl up into yourself as much as possible, not even caring about being slightly off the edge of the futon as you whisper a cautious good night.

Sanemi is conscious of the annoyingly narrow space you're sharing, but he's not overly conscious of it. How could he, when you quietly went out of your way to rest as far away from him as possible? He's not offended, it's obvious that the whole thing is about his comfort rather than yours. You weren't just being nice or sympathetic, you genuinely wanted to give up the futon because you're considerate like that. Of course you are, and of course he knows. He's aware of the qualities of each hashira he's met. Just as Gyomei is wise and sharp, or Kyojuro is strong and selfless, you're considerate. And smart, and strong. And stupidly charming, with your witty jokes and sharp replies that can sting just as much as his.

Apparently, you also adapt easily, a quality that explains how you're able to fall asleep in the most uncomfortable position known to mankind, within just a couple of minutes. You don't care that someone as aggressive and unpleasant as him is laying right next to you, someone who's practically a stranger, someone who finds himself listening to your quiet, heavy breaths, focused on how your shoulders lift ever so slightly with each one. Someone who discovers that your peacefulness has a calming effect on him, and is actually able to shut his eyes and relax his muscles and let his breath grow heavier in turn.

It's a smaller village, the one you're strolling across this time. You had left the previous one after rumors came about another married couple having been attacked in the middle of the night: the husband is still missing, the wife is still in shock and wasn't able to provide any useful information. She had just mentioned a woman, a beautiful woman with red hair and green eyes. Everything else was drowned in tears and shaky sobs. When you offered to take care of her wounds and bruises, she had started screaming so violently your body froze in shock and Sanemi had to drag you out of the house, hands on your shoulders and jaw painfully clenched.

Now his right hand is holding yours again, something you've grown used to with surprising quickness. Whenever you're in public, he becomes someone completely different from the person you've always known him as. Sanemi takes his missions seriously, he's focused and absolutely committed to his job, especially if there have already been casualties. However, with each passing day, you can tell that he's growing increasingly restless. You have yet to encounter a single clue and people keep disappearing and, you suspect, he's also tired of keeping up the dumb marriage act your master has forced the both of you into.

You know he's sick of you, but that doesn't stop you from trying to ease his suffering by trying to make some conversation and indulging in some innocent teasing.

"Your palm feels clammy", you whisper. He tenses up right away, making you chuckle.

"Shut the fuck up", he whispers back, eyeing a street vendor who's shouting something about the quality of his tea leaves.

"Ask nicely, dear husband", you reproach, giving his hand a light, playful squeeze.

Sanemi huffs in response, much less annoyed than you would guess. Your presence is easy to get accustomed to and, truth is, he doesn't really mind it anymore. Pretending to be your husband while in public? Easier than he had anticipated. Sleeping in the same futon? Weirdly comfortable, given that he actually sleeps. He had been so ready to feel itchy and tense and stiff, that your ease had taken him by surprise. Gave him no choice but to adapt in turn. And he's now so adjusted, he can't bring himself to tell you that your composure is absolutely useless, because each morning, without fail, he wakes up with your head on his shoulder, your feet poking at his legs and your arm thrown across his chest. And it's interesting that he doesn't mind, that he doesn't feel embarrassed. He just feels peaceful. Your breath is quiet and sweet as it tickles his cheek, the way you hum in your sleep and your soft snores are amusing. It's kinda... cute? The way your hair's all over the place. You're so different when you're unconscious, so much easier to get along with, he finds.

"Stay here", he orders as he lets go of your hand to head towards the stand of another street vendor, probably to gather some more information.

You smooth out your yukata as you look around as well, silently memorizing how the houses are positioned, which stores you can distinguish from there, searching for someone you can approach as well. You spot a young woman, arm in arm with a man that looks just one or two years older than her. Praying to the gods that they're married, you decide to try your luck.

"Good evening! I'm so sorry to bother you", your tone is friendly as ever while you bow, "I was wondering if you heard something about the disappearences going on around here? It's just... I'm having so much trouble sleeping at night", an apologetic smile finds its way to your lips.

The man untangles his arm from the woman's grip and, somehow, his arm is suddenly around your waist as he pulls you shockingly close.

"I can keep you company at night", he grins, and you can tell that tea is not exactly what he's been drinking throughout the day.

Keep it professional. Don't sprain his arm. Dont break his nose.

"Brother!", the woman reproaches, outraged and embarrassed at the same time. You gently remove his arm from around your waist, taking a step back.

"That's not what I asked. Regardless, I wish you a pleasant evening", you bow again, gaze intentionally fixed on the woman, who bows as well with a desolated look on her face. The man grabs your wrist just as Sanemi is by your side again, but he has no chance to open his mouth or intervene in any way because you pull the dickhead closer, step one leg beside him, easily free your wrist to grab him by his shoulders and push him backwards while swiftly sweeping your leg around and behind his ankles to take him down.

The woman gasps as his brother groans, muttering something under his breath. Sanemi is startled, probably annoyed to some degree, but he doesn't say anything. As you search for his gaze and take note of his clenched jaw, he simply takes your hand again and silently urges you to walk away with him with a pace the tiniest bit faster than usual.

He doesn't ask if you're okay, he knows that you are. Perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, as any other hashira. But still.

"You could've told him you're married", he makes it sound like he's thinking out loud, but you don't miss the slight tension in his voice.

"I hold the authority over my choices. He shouldn't respect my husband, he should respect me", you're casual about your reply but Sanemi feels the way your grip on his hand gets a little tighter. You're upset, angry even. Yet, what comfort can he offer? Tell you that you're right, go back and crush that asshole's face under his shoe?

He settles for saying nothing, as his grip grows a little tighter as well.

It's unsettling, the way he wakes up. So bizarre that, for a split second, Sanemi thinks there's a threat in the bedroom. But there's not, the only unsettling thing is the empty and cold spot next to him, the absence of any weight on his leg or chest, no one quietly sleeping on his shoulder. As he sits up and the room becomes purple for a second, he spots you sitting on the floor in the opposite corner of the room, back pressed against the dresser.

"What's wrong?", he rasps, then clears his throat cause his voice sounds terrible right after he wakes up.

"Nothing. Did I wake you?", your tone is considerate but there's also a weird vibration to it, something similar to... unease? Alarm?

"Why are you awake?", he ignores your question. The sudden, loud crack of a thunder makes you flinch, any possible reply caught in your throat as your back hits the dresser with a loud thud.

If Sanemi could be bold enough, he'd simply say something along the lines of come back to bed. Or I'm here, no need to be afraid. But he isn't, so the only thing left to do is try to be smart about it.

"I've been thinking", he begins, legs crossed as he gets comfortable. Your gaze flickers from the floor to his eyes.

"There's something we're not getting. The bitch doesn't show up, she doesn't seem to care that we're married. We're stuck".

You let out a shaky breath as you hug your knees, grateful to have a distraction.

"Yeah. Should we send a crow to master Ubuyashiki?"

"No, we have to figure it out. He trusted us to fix this, so we'll fix it".

So you were right, he is sick of you and of your silly little act. Even if you do your absolute best not to bother him. Even if you'd rather sit on the floor during a thunderstorm, than to stay in the futon and risk waking him up. He's tired and wants to go home. Which is fair, obviously. You had just hoped that he'd find the whole thing at least a little more... bearable.

"There's only two villages left, we'll check one tonight. We'll draw her out of her hole", you promise, wincing again as another thunder echoes violently throughout the room.

"Do we have to keep talking like this? Come here, you look like a cornered rat", words come out the wrong way but he honestly has no idea how to make it sound better, less intimidating or mocking. Thankfully, you just roll your eyes and carefully crawl back to your empty spot next to him.

"You wouldn't last three days as an actual husband", you grumble, pulling the covers over your legs as you carefully lie down. He soon follows, but he lies on his back, in contrast with the position he usually sleeps in.

"I don't plan on becoming one", Sanemi replies. You squint your eyes as the ceiling is illuminated once again.

"Scared of commitment?"

"Yeah. It's definitely that and not that I'm probably gonna end up dead in a ditch soon enough".

You slightly turn your head to look at him, surprised.

"Don't get all pessimistic on me, you're a pillar!"

He looks at you as well, a single brow skeptically raised.

"Pillars can't die?"

"Not the ones who have someone they'd leave behind".

"I swear if this is a marriage joke–"

"I meant your brother, idiot ".

Sanemi grows quiet as his eyes are focused on the ceiling once again. I hope to die before him, is what he's thinking. I pray that I won't be here to watch it happen.

"He's not my brother", is what he says, and you snort loudly.

Privileged asshole.

"You know, you could cut the bullshit and actually cherish whatever time you have left with him. I wish I still had a brother to argue with", your reproach comes out much more bitter than you mean it to. It's none of your business, his personal life. But you have met Genya, multiple times actually, and the admiration he has for his older brother breaks your heart every time. You don't have someone loving you like that anymore. You probably won't live long enough to have someone like that ever again.

He stays silent longer than you expect him to, so much that you think he's fallen asleep. But Sanemi's eyes are still scanning the ceiling.

"You've been unlucky", he eventually mutters, voice so low you wonder if he's actually talking to you.

"With luckier lives, we wouldn't have been here".

He scoffs.

"No, I mean this mission. You could've been here with someone like Rengoku or Himejima. For some reason you even like Uzui and Tomioka". They'd say the right thing.

You gently nudge his calf with your toe, chuckle at his flinching cause you're well aware of how cold your feet are.

"Well, you could've been here with Mitsuri or Shinobu. You've known them longer".

The rain is heavy as it beats on the windows, but you can tell the storm is moving farther away, perhaps over the same village you're going to patrol after a few hours. Just a few hours before you're hashira on their duty again. But right now, you're just two normal people comfortable enough to be lying beside each other, some sort of hushed intimacy having settled over any usual miscommunication or banter.

I don't mind this, he'd like to say.

"Would've found them annoying as well", is what he says.

You roll your eyes again, but Sanemi can practically feel your smile as you speak again.

"Well, I don't mind this".

As you leave the house of yet another traumatized and shocked woman covered in bruises, realization dawns on you. It's sudden, and as painful as it is unexpected. Sanemi is cursing under his breath because you still have no leads but you stop in your tracks a few feet behind him, frozen. He turns around, a questioning expression taking over his features as he notices your horrified one.

"We got it all wrong", you mutter as you move closer to him.

"She's not targeting married couples. She's targeting husbands".

Sanemi's frown deepens as every piece finally falls into place. His jaw is clenched once again.

"So what do we do?"

You guide him towards an empty spot right behind what looks like the empty shop of a carpenter.

"Punch me".

Sanemi opens his mouth, then closes it. Opens it again, almost starts gasping like a fish.

"What? ", he hisses.

"Yeah, give me a black eye. Or slap me, I don't care, just do it".

His heart drops to his stomach when he realizes you're being serious. Horrified, he doesn't know what to say for a solid minute while your eyes silently encourage him. When they squint in preparation as he slightly bends forward, he breaks.

"No", he slowly lets out, tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth.

"Come on, you can't stand me anyway, should be easy!"

"That's not–", he interrupts you so sharply you jump a little.

Sanemi is not dumb, by any means. He's perfectly aware of the vibe he gives off and, as long as he's a slayer, he intends to maintain it. People can get cuts and bruises from how sharp his edges are, but he has some ground rules and boundaries and, he discovers, the sole idea of beating a woman up just for the sake of it is enough to make his head spin and his stomach churn with nausea. His sparring sessions with other slayers are brutal, but what you're asking is different. Especially because you think it would be easy, for him to hit a woman just because he doesn't get along with her. It's mortifying.

"I won't. I'm not that kind of man". I hope to the gods I'm not, he thinks, as memories of his father flash before his eyes and he has to clench both his fists not to punch a whole in the tree you're resting your back against.

Shame blossoms in your chest, threatening to become a storm powerful enough to drown you.

"I didn't mean–", you murmur, shocked at your own insensitivity, "I would never imply that. I was just trying to make it sound like less of a big deal", you're almost begging at this point, searching for a gaze that still doesn't meet yours. There's nothing left to do but to push it and as you lean forward as well, forehead incredibly close to his, you feel so small and stupid there's nothing you'd want more than to hide in a hole.

"Sanemi", his name sounds weird when you say it for the first time and he must think the same thing as his eyes finally meet yours. It's heartbreaking, that look. It's a look you'd never think you'd see from someone like him.

"I'm sorry. I would never think you'd actually do it, I was just trying to think of a strategy. Please believe me?"

"What if others think I'd actually do it?", his voice comes out in heated whispers, "What if other women think I'd–"

"You're unpleasant to be around but that's simply not enough for anyone to think you'd hurt women. You wouldn't be a hashira and neither our master nor Genya would love you as much if you were someone capable of doing that".

You hope you sounded convincing enough as he pulls back slightly, gaze still clouded by doubt.

"We can fake it", you cautiously suggest, "or come up with something else. Now that we know what's going on, we'll find her".

He takes a deep breath, spares you a glance, distractedly remembers how different his name sounded rolling off your tongue.

"We can fake it", he decides.

You're not gonna think of this as one of the worst missions you've been on, you decide. How could you? When the usually insufferable prick walking back to Oyakata-sama's mansion right next to you is now someone you'll look at so differently.

You're sure he hopes to leave this whole mess of a week behind, forget about it as soon as possible. Never mention how you two have slept wrapped up in the same sheets, held hands for a time that occasionally seemed to unnecessarily stretch. Tomorrow he probably won't even remember the way he had insisted on carefully smearing the mixture of oils and crushed verbena flowers on the side of your face, frown so deep it almost felt like he was giving you real bruises. You never thought his, of all hands, could feel so gentle. You never thought he'd get distracted and direct his worried gaze towards you in battle, even if for just a barely noticeable second.

"Why the fuck are you still so slow? We're wearing our clothes", Sanemi hisses, and he's surprised to find out he has to make an effort to actually sound annoyed. It's not really infuriating, your slower pace. Especially because he's practically sure your usual, considerate ass, is doing it on purpose. So that he stays off his right leg as much as possible, the leg he had allowed the demon bitch to basically rip apart to let her close enough for you to slice her head off. The leg you had insisted on bandaging as tightly as possible, because he had barked insults at each kakushi who had tried to treat his wounds, ripped stitches and everything.

You, however, had been adamant. "Treatment for fake wounds demands treatment for real wounds", had been your dumb principle, with reference to him carefully wiping your face to get rid of those horribly realistic, fake bruises.

The time spent together had teached Sanemi to just let you. Let you decide to share a futon with him, let you dig your cold feet into his calves each night, let you win the eating just steamed rice means you're not having a balanced breakfast argument, letting you laugh at your own, stupid jokes, while aggressively pretending not to be fighting back a smile whenever you cracked one all of a sudden.

Sanemi finds comfort in you not rolling your eyes or retorting with a sour comeback to his irritated tone. It means that something has shifted and that he's not the only one who has noticed. Luckily, the leg hurts badly enough for him to be unable to focus on what that shifting actually means: the urgent need to find a new balance, the burning hope not to miss your presence in his futon at night, once he's back to his estate.

The wish for there to be stormless nights only, from now on.

[silkscream]

happy 3k love!! can I get a sangria (ik ik I'm a thirsty bitch) with mcu Peter Parker where he's like the complete opposite of his high school self and meets reader? you can go in any direction honestly I don't mind I just love reading the way you put words together 🤰🤰🤰🤰💙

“another round for the ladies over there, y/n.”

you roll your eyes with a smirk. “another one, jim? tell me, has any of them promised you some pussy yet tonight?”

“oi, fuck off,” the man in front of you huffs. “it’s called being a gentleman.”

you scoff, shaking your head, but continue to pour five tequila shots anyway. jim, your thirty-five year old regular, was always unlucky when it came to finding dates, often keeping company with whatever gaggle of sorority girls caught his eye or happened to catch on that he was easily manipulated. you watched every friday night for 1) your own amusement, 2) being nice to jim granted great tips even though you had to deny his many advances, and 3) you needed to make sure the bastard wasn’t actually a creep to any of these young girls.

“whatever you say, james.”

you turn to update his tab when a familiar voice pipes up behind you.

“what kind of mezcal do you have?”

your head whips to the source of the voice. you lock eyes with a pair of familiar brown ones, though you aren’t sure where his face is from. a step closer and the boyishness in his face shows much clearer under the lamplight.

“peter? peter parker?”

“hey,” he chuckles.

“thought you were at MIT or whatever.”

“you know it’s the summer time, right?” he raises a brow. something about his appearance is more refined, hardened compared to the last time you saw him. when you had last seen peter parker, you were both in graduation gowns and you’d watched him walk the stage to take his diploma. he had been holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand, cheek to cheek with michelle jones while his aunt may had an arm around his neck. you didn’t have the courage to congratulate him, let alone tell him about your two-year crush, and then he’d vanished before your eyes. seeing him now was like being inside a dream.

“right,” you blink at him, clearing your throat to make an attempt back at professionalism. “oh! uh, we’ve got peloton de la muerte, don amado…”

“i’ll just get a mezcal mule with whatever you prefer,” he interrupts. you nod with a sheepish smile.

you can feel his eyes scanning your body as you make his drink, which has your back straightening like a tree.

“on the house,” you murmur as you set the glass in front of him.

“what? really?”

“it’s not every day you get a midtown alum at your bar,” you shrug, leaning your elbow on the counter. you hope he doesn’t see right through you.

“surprising. i thought you’d see tons considering how many of them stay in manhattan,” peter shrugs.

he’d made you nervous before, back in high school, mostly because he was so unprecedented and you were so timid and stuck in the shadows. meanwhile, peter exuded pure sunlight with his bashfulness, his kindness. it didn’t particularly set in the person in front of you, though. maybe it had been two or three years since graduation, but at the moment, it feels like you’re talking to a new version of the boy you once spent countless decathlon practices with.

“it’s good money, the bartending?” he quips with curiosity as he sips his drink.

“it’s enough for the summer. lots of lonely men need a couple drinks and some female company.”

“better than trying to save the world.”

“what do you mean?”

peter doesn’t answer. he merely flashes you a smile that definitely hides something underneath, but you don’t know him enough to pry. to be fair, you hardly know him at all. you only have the idea of him that you’d made up during your high school years, and even now, you assume that you’ll probably go home and dream of made-up versions of him. his presence is like a test to your psyche at the moment. nothing significant — nothing worth giving your time to ever stayed. you didn’t expect peter to, either.

that is, until he orders more drinks. a mezcal mule, a white wine, a ginger ale mixed with whatever your finger lands on when you close your eyes. it’s a weekday night, so most of your usual patrons have fucked off for the night, leaving you to wipe down the counters and sweep before the clock even hits one.

“gotta kick you out, parker.”

“who, me? where am i supposed to go now?” his voice has a begging tone to it that makes you want to sink into quicksand. or maybe you’re drunk, because the shots he was ordering were for you. he’d slip them towards you, insisting that you needed to loosen up on this tuesday night, and you could never say no to free alcohol. he’d given you a fat tip after all.

“i live a few blocks from here. come with. you can wait there when you figure out a way home,” you giggle, pulling on your corduroy button down over your crop top as you head out the door. as you lock up the bar, peter watcheS you with acute attention — he notices the way your eyes are half-lidded after a few shots, the casual slump of your shoulders, the pixie-like cadence of your voice when you talk about something you’re excited about. he thinks you’re adorable.

__

once you’re able to sit down on the couch in your apartment, peter plops down next to you sloppily. you end up intertwining legs in the most casual way. you don’t even notice, really.

“you’re different than what you used to be, peter parker.”

“how so?” he chuckles.

“scary,” you mumble.

“huh? sorry, i couldn’t hear you,” peter murmurs, grabbing your head from your neck closer to him. you hitch your breath, which lodges itself in his throat when you feel his calloused fingertips. the feeling excites you, has all your neurons firing in your body.

“you’re less nerdy now.”

“i’ve been through a lot,” he purrs into your ear, and no, it’s not like the nerdy peter you once knew at all. it’s the husky voice of someone who knows what he’s doing, someone who’s willing to take what he wants. you hope he does. you hope it’s you.

you take in a breath, looking at the wall in front of you instead of him in an attempt to calm your nerves, but he doesn’t let you. he merely turns your head to plant a kiss on your mouth gently, so delicately as if he’s trying to touch the fluff of a dandelion without all of it floating away. he grins into the kiss when you reciprocate with passion, tongue exploring the inside of his mouth and feeling the taste of mezcal, of lime, of ginger.

when he emerges, his brown eyes are hooded with desire.

“this okay?”

you nod. “you can do whatever you want to me,” you say breathlessly. his cocky smile shows that he’s willing to test that theory.

[mirahuyooo]

These Entangled Paths (pt 2) | mafia!bts reaction

[How You Met]  — Hyung Line

— “Well, look who I ran into,” crowed Coincidence. In which, you cross paths with a man, who, unbeknownst to you, holds the city by the neck in fear. Your life will never be the same.

Word Count: 4,775 (i-it’s longer than the prev one haha (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ can’t you just tell I’m a slut for hyung line) Content/s: oblivious!y/n, mysterious/sus behavior from the boys (esp yoongs and joon here) lol, meet-cutes?? FLUFF, crack, feels, JOON is called JOHN bc haha, u have an annoying ex here :DDD, blood, sTAB sTAB, cursing, Mafia AU  

[masterlist] | more [reactions & headcanons] | [Maknae Line]

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMASSS!!! (it’s xmas now in the ph hehe) Ah yes, nothing spells Christmas like a Mafia AU reaction :DDD (im not feeling particularly festive I’m sorry AHWHAHAh) anyways HERE IS HYUNG LINEEE!!! I hope you guys enjoy reading this!!

KIM SEOKJIN

You were a simple woman. You see an irrevocably handsome man, you respectfully simp from a distance. The stranger had broad shoulders and a gentlemanly aura to him. You caught a glimpse of his face at some point, and you were so taken aback by his beauty that you had to step away and duck somewhere else, intimidated by being in his beautiful presence. 

How could you dare approach him, too?

Compared to the man’s clean, business casual look, you were currently dressed in sweats and a three-day old oversized hoodie at the peak of lazy and unkempt comfort. You like to think that you dress up quite nicely, but it was a Friday, after all. You had to stay cozy and laidback after a long week of hustling. 

Deciding that was enough simping for the day, you head to the cashier with hopeful wishing of seeing the man again when you’re in a more decent get up. 

When you got there, there was no line. It was late, you suppose, and that would mean there are only a total of three people in the store. The young lady at the counter gives you a tight-lipped smile and a not-so-enthusiastic ‘good evening’, but you don’t mind at all. You understand the hustle of having to deal with different people throughout the day. 

You then notice her glancing behind you in between scanning the chips and cookies you were stocking for movie night. There was a sparkle of awe in her once tired expression, and it sort of bums you. Taking a sneak peek behind you, you nearly had a heart attack seeing the handsome stranger you were gawking at earlier. 

Alas, you were not as discreet as you had hoped, seeing as your little crush catches you and was amicable enough to give you a small smile. You manage a smile back, but instantly whip back towards the cashier who was still stealing glances. If you weren’t so embarrassed and flustered yourself, you would’ve chuckled. Girl, same. 

The last of your items were going through, and you fiddled with your hoodie as you waited. “Here you go,” she actually smiles at you this time after finishing your groceries. Ah, so the handsome man has given her motivation. Understandable.

You take the two bags waiting for you to bring them home, attempting to balance them in your arms. The stranger moves forward to help when one bag nearly slipped from your grasp. “Thanks,” you politely smile back at the both of them.

Mayhaps doing your bi-weekly grocery shopping had its perks after all.  

“Everyone put your hands up!”

Or not.

Not even making it three steps from the counter, two men with guns barge into the doors. Startled, you jump, bumping into the man behind you and almost dropping your goods, had it not been for him catching you by the arms with a secure grip. You throw a glance at him with your wide eyes, alarmed with the situation at hand.

Everyone is suddenly so awake and alert. 

The one with the grey hoodie sees the lack of response. “I said put your hands up!” he barked aggressively, as the black masked one focused on the poor cashier girl, telling her to empty out the cash register. 

Having no chance to retaliate, you shakily set your bags down and to follow the muggers’ orders. "Give me your wallet," you were told, and you hand it over with shaking hands, choosing to be broke and alive rather than dead. 

Bad luck doesn't run out soon, however, and the thin gold bracelet your grandmother gave you catches his eye. "Give me the bracelet, too," he tells you, but, this time, you shake your head profusely. You can't. She was the one who raised you—your last family. 

Everything happened quickly. 

You feel the pain shot through somewhere in your shoulder and wrist. Someone had pulled you aside but the bullet still struck you. As you fall onto the linoleum floor, you realize it was the stranger from before, and he doesn't stop his advances in saving you either. 

With a quick but precise hit, he manages to incapacitate the hooded robber, knocking him out on the ground with a bleeding nose, and takes the gun from his hold. He points it at the one guy left before looking at the cashier. "Call the cops," he tells her, before hitting him too. 

The wound on your left shoulder hurts like hell, but you nonetheless  crawl towards the first unconscious robber and hesitantly fish your wallet from him. A few tears run down your cheeks, the weight of the events crashing down on you. 

"Are you alright, miss?"

You look up and see the savior of the grocery store before you with his hand extended out. Coming back to reality, you see that he and the cashier have tied one of the robbers up already. 

Reluctantly, you use your right arm, but still bite back a cry in pain. You were instead propped against the counter.  "Breathe," he tells you, putting pressure against your wound to stop the bleeding. "The ambulance will get here soon. Don't worry."

His words, however, barely register as you watch the cashier tie the last masked man behind him. Suddenly, you feel a gentle caress on your cheek, turning your head away from that sight. "Hey, what's your name?" The man asks you, plump lips forming a small smile. 

"What?" you ask, incredulous. 

The stranger chuckles a little at your expression. "Come on," he insists. 

You soon realize that he's keeping you occupied for the time being. You give a wry smile. "(Y/N)," you hiss at a sudden shot of pain, "My name is (Y/N)."

He smiles more at the progress. "What a pretty name, (Y/N)," he tells you, as the faint sound of sirens reach your ears. "My name's Seokjin. You can call me Jin."

"Are you a doctor, Jin?" you heave. 

"Sort of," Seokjin shrugs, brushing back a part of your hair that flew over your bloody shoulder. 

"Sort of?"

Seokjin goes silent for a few moments. "I was a med student, but I…" he trails off, "I had to drop out."

You notice him holding back a grimace, but you don't say anything. "Oh," you give him a playful yet tired grin, "I don't have to pay you, do I?"

As the paramedics rush in, Jin walks alongside them as they assist you to a stretcher. "I'd do anything free for a pretty lady," he muses, making you half-heartedly roll your eyes in spite of the smile on your face. 

"Sir, I’m literally bleeding, right now.”

 MIN YOONGI

Train rides were relatively peaceful, especially when you were on your way to the countryside. 

However, just as the train’s low rumble almost began to lull you to sleep, the sound of someone rummaging through something woke you up. You open your eyes and see a man with dirty blond hair going through the bag of the passenger you had seen sitting by himself earlier. The man from before was a pale, platinum blond guy in a hoodie, certainly not whoever this man is. 

With the owner currently nowhere to be seen, you took it upon yourself to do the questioning. “Excuse me,” you cautiously began, craning your head and clutching your own messenger bag, “what are you doing, sir?”

The man almost jumps at the sound of your voice. Fortunately, with your sudden intrusion, he wasn't able to get anything from the bag. “I’m getting something for a friend,” he curtly says, “he's in the bathroom.” 

You knew for a fact that the pale man earlier was alone, and while his last statement may be true, you could sense something awry. Could he be a snatcher or something?

Nonetheless, something in you urged you to save the bag from him. “That's cool," you quip, standing up, “he’s my friend, too. What are you looking for then?”

The both of you know that the other is lying, and so a glaring battle ensues. You weren't as intimidating as the man before you, but you held your ground and took the bag in your hands. “Don't meddle with someone else's business, lady,” he tells you, taking a step forward in an attempt to intimidate you.  

You must admit, his towering build and inked skin does the work, but the adrenaline rushing through your veins makes you reckless. “Take your own advice, big guy,” you force a smile, strengthening your grip. 

Just then, an attendant comes by, sensing a commotion in your area. “Is everyone alright in here?” she asks. 

You take the chance as it has presented itself. “Yeah,” you lie through a smile at the young woman, “I was just about to go.”

It was fortunate that the man didn’t seem to want to draw anymore attention towards him. You were able to slip past and almost bolt through the train section, hugging both your bag and the stranger’s. You have no idea why you were doing this. Yes, you’ve experienced getting robbed on a train before, but to run off with a person’s bag makes it feel like you’re the thief around here.

“Oof—” 

You stagger back as you bump into someone, only to realize that it was the owner of the bag himself. He looks at you suspiciously once he recognizes his bag in your hands. You were quick to offer him his bag and explain yourself to him. “Someone,” you wheezed, “tried to—to steal your bag, sir.”    

His eyes followed your finger down the compartment where you both sat in earlier. Something seems to click in his head. “What did he look like?” he then asks, wordlessly taking his bag from you.

You huff, leaning against a wall to compose yourself, exhaustion from the panic and escaping taking a toll. “Tall, dyed dirty blond hair, there,” you take a deep breath, “there was a snake tattoo around his neck I think?”

The man hisses under his breath, before stealing a glance at your hunched figure still trying to catch your breath. “Are you okay?” he asks, securing his bag by shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you attempt to grin, only for it to become a grimace. “Just a little shaken.” 

Watching as the man was still throwing cautious glances at where you came from, you took the chance to explain yourself a little more. “Snatchers suck, been there before,” you tell him, “I didn’t want the same thing to happen to you so—” 

“Fucking bastards,” he suddenly cursed, making the words stop from your mouth. 

“What?” you ask, offended at first, but you notice his attention still wasn't on you. Turning around to follow his gaze, you see the man from before, only this time he brought two of his friends with him. “Oh no,” you gasp, “that’s him.”

Fingers enclose around your wrist just as the intercom announces the arrival at the next station. “Come on,” the stranger ushers you with him, and amidst the rushing people, you two try and lose your pursuers. Your heart beats faster than ever. 

For a moment, you thought that the two of you were meant to leave the train with other passengers, but instead, he pulls you into a bathroom. Even as the train departs once again, the two of you stay and keep quiet, the distant chatter of people filling the already awkward air between you both. 

With the silence so stifling, you decided to break it. “I’m (Y/N),” you whisper, taking a good look at the stranger you just got into trouble with. He almost looks like a cat—seems like a cat, too. 

“Yoongi,” he simply says, scratching behind his ear. 

You don't mind his reclusive nature, but you were hoping for a bit more assurance. You understand the need to hide, and the weight of the situation still worries you. “I’m…” you murmur, “I’m not getting into trouble, am I, Yoongi?” 

Yoongi looks at you, and a second passes as he seems deep in thought. “No,” he finally says, “don’t worry.”

The moment he took to answer your question brewed a little doubt in you, but the way he said those words with such finality has urged you to take a leap of faith. “Okay,” you say, a little relief kicking in. 

The man before you nods, before pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning against. “I’ll get out first,” he tells you, doing as he had said and leaving you to wait in anticipation. 

A moment later, a knock comes onto the door. “Coast is clear,” said his muffled voice from the other side, and you exit as the intercom announces that the train is about to reach the next station. 

You look up at him with a small smile. “The next station is my stop,” you tell him, “I hope you get home safe, Yoongi.”

“You too,” Yoongi gingerly nods, before turning to leave. He seems to pause at the last second, however, turning to look at you over his shoulder. “Thanks,” he tells you, “for saving my bag.”

That day, you got off that train thinking it's been the closest thing to an adventure you've had in a while, heart pounding from the adrenaline and a certain stranger.

 JUNG HOSEOK

To say that you had very good luck with love would be a lie. You’ve fallen out of love, been toyed with, been ghosted—even the man you had thought you would one day marry had turned out to be a cheater. 

You loved Seungyoon with all of your heart. He was your college sweetheart and the two of you even moved to the city together for your respective professions, but that was in the past—six months ago, to be exact.  

Six months ago, you found out he had second thoughts about getting married and cheated on you for several one night stands. 

Six months ago, you were running to your friend’s house, crying hysterically after you confronted him and he hit you.

Six months ago, you were greeted by him and his mother begging you to forgive him, and you were proud to say that you didn’t.

Else, you’d be dealing with worse things than now. He was a sweetheart before, but now he’s a scumbag. 

“C’mon, (Y/N), hear me out,” Seungyoon whines as he follows you through the streets, having waited outside your new workplace. You have no idea how he managed to find out, when you cut him off of your socials, moved to the other side of the city, and got a new job.  

You say the first thing that pops into your head—a complete and utter lie, but you hoped it’d work. “I have a date to go to, Seungyoon,” you tell him, rolling your eyes.  “Leave me alone,” you practically beg, “I’ve moved on, so should you.”

This seemed to anger him, as he harshly pulled you back by the arm. “You don’t actually have a date right, sweetheart? You just got off of work!” he grins, but it falls as you only glare at him and force your arm out of his grip. You don’t bother telling him anything anymore, whipping around and walking as fast as you can.

You hear him following you still. His shame still hasn’t ran out, it seems. “Don’t go ignoring me, (Y/N)!” he calls out after you. “(Y/N), you can’t just leave!”

“Watch me!” you bark back, quickly walking towards the nearest restaurant to prove your point. The reasonable side of you retaliates, but it was too late for you to go back now, lest Seungyoon was still looking at you and sees through your lie. 

As soon as you enter, you make eye contact with a man sitting all by himself by a corner. His eyes grow wide a little as you continue your march towards him. “Hi,” you force a sweet smile, “please play along.”

The stranger looks at you still, eyes flickering behind you which makes you aware that Seungyoon is still there. You take this as another sign for you to go the extra mile, and sit yourself in the seat before him. There was a certain cold in his eyes, you notice, in the last few seconds of his stare on Seungyoon. It sends shivers down your spine, but you can't really blame him. You were there interrupting his day, after all.

Just as you began to regret your reckless actions, the man eases back to his seat and gives you a smile that takes you aback for a moment. Where did all that intimidating vibe go?

He flags down a waiter, who wordlessly hands him a menu. The red leather and gold details compliment the whole restaurant —compliment him—while you in your white blouse and pencil skirt feel rather dull and simplistic. “What’s my role then, sweetheart?” he then asks, offering you the menu as the waiter pours you a glass of wine. “Lay it on me.”

You flinch at the nickname, which the man before you notices, a light tug down at his lips appearing. You persist, taking the menu from his hand. “We’re on a date,” you declared, before grumbling under your breath, “because my goddamn ex can’t take a hint.”

Your impromptu date chuckles as he must’ve heard the last words. “Ah, pesky boy problems,” he muses, nodding before sipping at the wine glass he had been served. His gaze tingles your skin as he watches you open the menu. “I recommend the steak,” he suggests, but soon waves it off, “Everything’s great, actually. I know the head chef. He’s fantastic.”

Nodding nonchalantly, eyes go wide at the prices you see before you. These are going to burn a whole through your wallet and then some. “So you’re rich, hm?” you playfully muse, trying to hide your shock and grimace. “What a score I’ve landed with a date like you.”

He leans forward a little, giving you a reassuring smile. “There’s no need to worry,” he hushes you, “I’m your date. I’ll take care of it.”

Shaking your head, you refuse to be more indebted to him than you already were. Maybe you’ll just have to be a little careful with money for a few weeks. “It’s alright,” you insist, waving your card. “I’ve bothered you enough already.”

As the two of you stare one another down, he has this calculating gaze that considerably intimidates the utter stubbornness of your own. While your expression pushes forth your decision, he looks as though he's weighing in a lot of thoughts. 

Eventually, he concedes into your stare with a shrug. “Alright,” he sighs, but negotiates instead of giving in. “How about we split?”

The idea doesn't sound too bad. As long as you don't go ordering anything too expensive or try for dessert, then you could handle the conditions. “Deal,” you grin, easing back into your own seat. 

It then came to you that introductions haven't been made yet. You just busted in and sat yourself down. “I’m (Y/N), by the way,” you tell him, “(Y/N) (L/N).”

He smiles, tilting his glass as if to toast for you. “Jung Hoseok,” he tells you, a spark of something in his eyes.

You don't think much of it, turning to the waiting waiter by your table. “I’ll, uh, get that steak he talked about,” you point out with a smile, looking back at him only to see him taken aback but amused. “What is it?” you ask incredulously with a little chuckle.

Hoseok snaps out of it, giving you a reassuring smile as he does. “Nothing,” he tells you, “I was just thinking about how I did not expect my day to go like this, but I don’t mind it at all, to be honest. Some company is always appreciated.”

Your heart warms a little at his words. “I don’t mind it at all, too,” you beam, sipping at the wine. A bougie dinner, a handsome, rich date, and no Seungyoon? You don’t mind it at all.   

 KIM NAMJOON

You weren’t the most proud of the town you settled in, but you didn’t really have the money and guts to go anywhere else at the moment. Alas, a lot of trouble comes in such a town—like a bleeding man by the dumpster at the back of the cafe you worked at. 

The sight of him nearly makes you hastily throw the garbage bag onto the dumpster and rush to his side. “Oh my god,” you gasp, shocked to your core to see so much blood this close.  

Somehow, you manage to get yourself together and lightly tap his cheek, making his eyes sluggishly flutter open. They pierce through your soul, and make your heart beat faster. “Sir, can you hear me?” you ask, “I’ll call an ambulance.”

A weak hand stops you from fishing your phone from your pocket. “No,” you receive a groan in response, and you don't know whether to feel relieved or more panicked. 

“What do you mean no?!” you exasperatedly exclaim. “You’re bleeding!”

The stranger still shakes his head. “Don’t,” he weakly insists, “they’ll find me.”.

Though you have no idea who he was talking about, his state still falls into your hands now that you’ve seen him. A recklessly hasty plan forms in your mind. You knew a thing or two about first aid. You could do this, right?

I don’t fucking know! Let’s just wing this!

You take a deep breath and rest your hands on the man's shoulders. "Hey, do you think you can stand up?" you then ask him, getting ready to support his weight. "I'll get you into the back room, but I need your help, okay?"

The stranger manages to nod, grunting at the strength he had to exert to stand. You quickly wrap your arms around him and guide him to the backdoor of the cafe. It was fortunate, somehow, that it was well over closing time and your coworker had to leave early.

You rest him on the floor for a moment, rushing to fetch the first aid kit after instructing him to keep the pressure on his wounds. He’s still there when you come back, now jacketless, and eyes more open as he scans his surroundings. 

Flashing him a quick smile, you kneel back at his side. As your fingers hesitate to unbutton his shirt, the stranger does it for you. There are shallow cuts, but deep cuts too. “Do you know someone who might be better at patching you?” you ask him to keep yourself busy, a blush forming on your cheeks. “I only know a little bit about first aid.”

A hiss comes from his mouth before he can answer, as you had begun disinfecting the wound on the back of his shoulder. You give him an apologetic glance and wordlessly offer him a towel to bite on, but the stranger refuses. “I do know someone,” he answers your question instead. 

“Would you like to call them then?” you offer, earning a subtle nod this time. Handing him your phone, you continue your attempts as he dials a number. 

“Hyung,” he greets, “Yeah… they surprised me, but I’m fine now…”

His conversation goes on and you do your best to mind your own business as you notice him using vague words to keep his own business confidential. As the call ends, however, you watch in horror as the man slams your precious phone on the ground repeatedly until it flickers for a few moments and dies. "What the fuck?!" you gasp, your bandaging coming to a stop as you’re overcome with the urge to smack him. "What did you do that for?!"

The stranger was quick to shush you. "Keep your voice down," he groans, clutching himself as if to protect himself from your wrath.

Venom drips from your words. "You broke my fucking phone, asshole," you snap, swatting at him. "I’m helping you."

Goddamn it! You would've just given him the landline at the counter if he was going to demolish it afterwards! 

He catches both of your wrists and manages to hold onto them with a firm grip. "I can't risk it," he tells you, matching a stern, almost authoritative gaze to your furious glare. 

You falter at the implication of his words. “Can’t risk what?” you question, but he doesn’t budge, and instead occupies himself with taking care of the other wounds you haven’t patched yet. Your heart races in his silence as the panic starts to set in. "Please, answer me."

Helping out a stranger is something you would never regret, but just what was this man bringing with him? You had expected a mugging, but the sinister mystery of his circumstances tell you otherwise.

The stranger sighs, making you sense a bit of his guilt. “The people that did this to me might trace it to my friends,” he simply tells you. “You’re better off not knowing the rest, trust me.” 

His words, as they turn out, don’t do much to ease you. “Shit,” you grit through your teeth, falling back on your butt as you process what he said. What did I just get myself into?!

Sensing your heaving breath, the stranger rests both his hands on your shoulders.  “There’s no need to worry, (Y/N),” he tells you, shaking you a little to get his words through.

Your eyes widen at your name falling from his lips. "How did you—"

"Nametag," he answers curtly, the two of you glancing at the item pinned on the left side of your chest. The stranger lets your shoulders go as he goes back to dealing with his other wounds. “I return gratitude generously,” he tells you with a smile that reveals dimples on his cheek. “No one will harm a hair on you. I'll buy you a new phone, too." 

His promise does well to calm you a bit. "You're still an asshat for breaking my phone, John," you huff, starting to inch back into helping him.  "You have no idea how many months I spent saving for it."

"John?" was his incredulous question.

A light chuckle escapes you. "John Doe," you tell him, as you start on the gash on his stomach. "You know, the name they use to refer to an unknown man," you further explain, "I figured you wouldn’t give me your name."

John leans back and laughs a little himself. "Ah, clever," 

The idle chatter continues as you both work on his injuries, until, eventually, you make him sit on a stool so you could mop up the bloody mess he left behind. While you were out to get rid of the bloody towels, however, you see a car pulling up in front of the cafe with two men stepping out of it. 

Immediately, you ran back inside. "There’s a car," you tell John as soon as you could.

A deep furrow becomes of his brows. "How many men are there?"

"Two," you pant, "a tall guy with wide ass shoulders and another with muscles."

John lets out a chuckle, and his ease easily transfers to yours too, as a faint knock comes onto the backdoor. You hesitantly opened the door for them, and you were greeted by the men you saw earlier. They look at you expectantly and you throw a glance at the man you've haphazardly bandaged up. 

The wide-shouldered guy checks your bandage work as soon as they come inside. He must’ve been the ‘someone’ that John told you about earlier. “It’s the best I could do,” you nervously tell him, scratching the back of your neck, but you were given an assuring smile.

“It’s alright,” the man tells you as the younger guy goes to easily assist John. “You did a decent job.”

You muster a smile as you guide them out. The car wasn’t far, presumably because they were told that you had taken him through the backdoor of the cafe. "Good riddance, John," you then tell the stranger you had patched up. “Don’t bother coming back with blood on you.”

John laughs, while his two friends are confused with what you called him. “Noted,” he playfully salutes, a thankful glint in his eyes as his parting looms over you both.

Just as the car door was opened for him, he looked back at you one last time. “I’ll get you that new phone, I promise,” he tells you, making you laugh a little. 

“You better,” you half-heartedly retort, and while the better of your judgement tells you otherwise, a part of you does hope to meet John again.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

The Letters From The Dead - Billy Hargrove X Female Reader

Title: The Letters From The Dead

Billy Hargrove X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Max, and Neil (Mentioned)

WC: 2,091

Warnings: Main character death, Billy's dead, mourning, sad, angst, depressing, mention of killing, descriptions of Billy's death, and feelings

You were just sipping your morning coffee when you heard a knock at your door. You were annoyed, but you pushed that feeling aside and pushed off the counter, setting your coffee down as you headed to the front door. Opening it, you were greeted by the mail lady, who had a somewhat large package in her hands.

"Uh, a package for Y/N L/N?" You asked, looking up at her as she handed over the box.

"For me?"

She nodded her head, smiling slightly. "Yes, you are Y/N L/N, right?"

"Yeah, I am." You took the package from her, thanking her.

Glancing at it curiously before closing the door behind you, you sat down on your couch. Before you opened it, you checked the returning address, eyes widening. Hawkins, Indiana. Wow, you haven't heard of Hawkins in a long, long time. Confused, curious, and beyond flabbergasted, you ripped open the box, trying to think of anyone in the small town that would send you something. Inside were letters. Filled with what seemed like hundreds of letters all to a single person... You. Picking up a letter or two, you observed them, seeing that there was nothing on them except for your name, and a date.

Looking at the letters in order on your floor, you tried to think. Your brain raced as you tried to think of who would write you all these letters. As if it was some sort of mystery, you pulled out all the letters, looked at the dates, and organized them from oldest to the newest. You were amazed, some letters went all the way back to 1984. Some even came from years after you'd left Hawkins, noticing that your name was definitely written by another person after 1986.

You suddenly felt tears welling up in your eyes. Whoever this person is, they clearly cared about you. But, who was it? Starting with the oldest letter, dating back to March of 1985. Opening the letter, you pulled out the single piece of paper, marveling at how pristine it was after so many years. Reading the letter quickly, you were surprised to see that the handwriting was familiar, but you still had no idea who it was.

'Y/N,

This is stupid. I shouldn't even be writing this, you would never see it anyway. But, you must have done something for me to feel this way about someone. Normally, I wouldn't care. But, I also feel some sort of way about you too. I honestly blame you. It's your fault for being so pretty and smart, and nice. And yes, I know you won't see this and I'm wasting my time. But, I hope you do. If not, then it doesn't matter. Just, don't stop smiling. It looks good on you.'

You couldn't help but smile from the words, but you were confused. Who wrote the letter? Who was this person that cared enough about you to write you letters? They knew you, but did you know them?

Opening the next letter, dated March 12th of 1985, you leaned against the front of your couch as you read.

'Y/N,

This seems to be turning into a dumb diary. If anyone found out about these, they would make fun of me for sure. But, no one will because I know you'll never see these. You'd probably make fun of me too. I hate being so sentimental, but I can't help it. Anyway, you are driving me crazy. I would call it a bad thing. I am not the person that should be liking you. I have a reputation to uphold here. I mean, I do like you. But, I can't tell anyone. Not only would it ruin my image, but it could get you in trouble. You would be embarrassed and probably get bullied. I mean... I am not one to talk... I bullied people too.'

Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried to rake your brain into trying to figure out who wrote the letter. However, you were enjoying reading the old letters. Another letter was dated April of 1985, and you were actually getting excited to find out who it was.

'Y/N,

You did your hair today. It looked pretty. I can't believe I am saying such things. You're really starting to look like one of those girls that everyone likes. It worries me. I want to talk to you, ask you out, go on dates, be a real man and do the things other couples do. But, I am scared. What if you say no? I shouldn't even try... Should I?'

You sighed, feeling sorry for the person you were reading letters from. You wanted to know who wrote them.

You continued to read, it took almost two hours, but you loved every moment of it. As you read, you could feel the emotions put into the words on the page. This person, they had gone through so much, you wished you had known them and helped them through their pain.

Finally, you reached the last letter. The one dated August 6th of 1985.

'Y/N,

I've been thinking about you all day. I can't stop. I don't even want to. I don't care anymore. I've told you so much about me through these letters, even though you'll never see them. I wish you could. But, I can't give them to you. Not now. I am so close to getting out of this town. I don't want to drag you with me. I don't want to burden you. I have thought about leaving you alone for so long, I don't know why I didn't do it sooner. I am sorry. I just... I can't.

We've gotten pretty close over the summer. I like you a lot. I think I might even love you. which is crazy. I never thought I'd feel this way about anyone ever. But, I do. I can't explain it, but I have come to realize that you are the one. I don't know what I would do without you.

Just know that how I act on the outside is not how I act on the inside. I am not a monster, even though I feel like I am for the things I have done. I have feelings. I have dreams. I have a life. I just... Don't let me hurt you. Please. I need you. I have for a long time, and I always will.'

Your eyes widened as you read. Reading the love confession. You had no words. All you could do was cry. Crying, you wiped away your tears as you slowly collected the rest of the letters and put them neatly in a nice stack. You felt like you knew this person, who spoke their heart out to you.

Lastly, you placed them back in the box, grabbing the other letter from a different person from what you could tell from the handwriting.

'Hey, Y/N,

I don't know how to start this. But, it's Max. Billy's sister.'

You dropped the letter. Placing your hands on your mouth, your eyes widened. Tears erupted from your eyes as you let out a heavy sob. You knew Billy. And, if you thought correctly, those letters were from him. Billy was the reason you left Hawkins. After his death, you didn't want to stay in Hawkins anymore. When you first met Billy, he was rude and as much of a Cassanova as one could be. He flirted with you and other girls a lot when you were in school. He shared two classes with you, Science and Math. Funnily enough, you heard he skipped most of his class, but not the ones he shared with you.

During the summer of 85, you got closer to Billy. Realizing that he wasn't as much of a bad boy as you thought he was. When he was with you, he was quiet, sweet even. You even enjoyed talking to him. You couldn't help but fall in love with him and his curly dirty blonde hair and sea blue eyes. You didn't mind when he flirted with you, but he did that with everyone, so you didn't pay too much mind to it. You would've said yes to him when he asked you out, but you were scared. Scared that he was just the bad boy you were afraid that he was. You were scared that everything that he was with you, was just some sick joke.

But, that didn't stop you from making the two of you friendship bracelets. He never wore his, but you wore yours all the time. Then, you found out about the Upside Down, and everything happened so fast. Billy had changed and you knew it was because of the Upside Down. There was nothing you could do, and that was what killed you on the inside. Then, the Mall happened. You never forgave yourself for Billy's death. You wished you had more time, if you did, you would've saved him from the tentacles piercing his flesh. Even when you were holding him in your arms, Max beside you, he never confessed. He only said that he was sorry.

How did you forget him? Was it because of the years that had gone by? You were almost fifty. You have lived a long life. But, how could you have forgotten your first love? Maybe it was your own mind that made you forget. Forcing you to forget the trauma you and so many others had gone through. Save your sanity.

You picked up the letter, reading the words again, controlling your breathing as much as you could.

'I know you are moving away, so I thought I would write a letter as Billy did. I found them when we were cleaning out his room. Well, I found them. I didn't know what to do with them at the beginning, but I knew you liked him. And, he liked you. So, I wanted to save up to send them to you. I know you are busy. I know you are going to college in California. But, I hope you'll read these. If you don't, then that's fine too. I guess I shouldn't have sent them after all. It would only bring you back to that night. But, I know you would want these if you had known about them.

Billy loved you, I don't have to read his sappy letters to know that he did. He talked about you a lot, even when you two were in high school. I think I hated you for a while then. I wanted to hate you because he treated you better than he treated me. But, then, you talked to me and showed me that you cared. And, you liked Dig Dug so I had to forgive you. You were nice to me, and somewhere down the line, you got Billy to be nicer to me too. I have to thank you for that. you showed me that Billy wasn't evil, he was just broken. I miss him so much sometimes. I always will.

I know you miss him too. I saw the way you cried at his funeral. I remember standing there, crying along with you. We both had thought you would grow old together. We never imagined that this day would come. You loved him. And he loved you. He just had a hard and weird way of showing it. But, he was a good guy. You made him happy.

I am sending you a couple of his things when I have the chance. We were able to save some of them before Neil got rid of it all. If you would like to write back, the last letter has my new address.

Thank you, Y/N.

- Max Mayfield'

Brushing your tears away, you let out a shaky breath, pulling the box towards you, you gasped. At the bottom of the box was the friendship bracelet. The one you gave Billy. You knew he must have missed California, so you used colors that you thought reminded you of California. Green, for the palm trees, yellow for the sandy beaches, and blue for his love of the sea and surfing.

Picking up the bracelet, you slid it onto your wrist, before smiling softly. Billy was still with you. He was with you when you went to the beach; when you stood knee-deep in the cold ocean. When the cold breeze blew past you, he was there. He always would be.

[between-the-lines-fic]

Between the Lines - Bruno Madrigal (Modern AU) Chapter 2

Summary: Bruno Madrigal is a popular telenovela writer, though he keeps his identity secret under the pen name Pedro Oscar. You just happen to be a big fan of his who’s doing their laundry while a telenovela plays in the background.

Pairing: gn!Reader x Bruno Madrigal

Words: 1,742

Warnings: None!

Chapter count: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 (More to come!)

Available on: AO3

A week had never felt this long before. While work at Abuelo’s corner shop never felt particularly exciting, the eternal ticking of the old analog clock next to the cashier counter was going to drive you nuts. At least he had that old radio tv that you could watch the telenovela on.

“Por favor Jorge, tengo que saber lo que quiere tu corazón!” Gabriella cries, ever the distraught damsel. Seriously, was this lady able to do anything other than shriek? You huff, flipping through the inventory notebook as you watch the store.

At least Abuelo wasn’t here to see you mope since you had this shift to yourself. He’d been getting more and more tired lately, which, while worrying… was also relieving. At least he was finally taking some breaks. It had been hard enough to convince him to loosen the reins on his beloved shop in the beginning years, especially since you had just earned your Bachillerato Académico.

“You should work hard for your dreams, pequeño nenúfar, not mine,” he had protested, nudging your shoulder with that embarrassing nickname of his. But, it was his source of income and supplement to the family. You couldn’t just leave him to scour himself to the bone while you went off and pranced at some silly arts college. No, you’d stay with your feet planted firmly in the ground, supporting what you could so that he’d have an easier rest of his life. Twenty years later and twenty years wiser, you decided that you had made the right choice, even if it meant boring days like this.

Of course, you’d catch yourself glancing at the calendar every day or so, and with that came the flustered embarrassment and self-reprimanding. Either the odd stranger (Bruno, you silently remind yourself, holding onto the name like a precious stone held close to your chest) would be there, doing his laundry again, or he wouldn’t. And if he wasn’t… so be it.

Why were you stuck on him anyways? Sure, he had kind eyes and large hands, beautiful hair that you wanted to sink your fingers in, and-

“Podría ahogarme en tu mirada, Gabriella,” Jorge murmurs in echo of your thoughts.

Mierda. Maybe it’d be best to not try and reason through your hopes.

When the day rolled around, you could barely contain the nervous fluttering in your chest, and finally halting in front of the door to the laundromat. If he wasn’t there…

Well, then you had your novelas to keep you company, didn’t you? It’d be fine. Just a bit quieter.

Pushing the door open with your back, you cradle your basket to your chest and trudge over to a machine, eyes scanning the room with sudden eagerness.

Empty.

“Ah, it’s you,” he says behind you, and you suppress the urge to scream. That’s twice he’s snuck up on you, now.

You whirl around to face him with a brandished lint roller, expression screwed up with irritation, he should be more careful, you’d get a heart attack, but your words die on your lips.

His hair is tied up. It looks nice like that, doesn’t it? All fluffy and curled, as if it were a cloud. You could never quite get your curls to look as voluminous as the models on the conditioner bottles could. Perhaps if you just…

Suddenly remembering yourself, you clear your throat and lower the lint roller. Bruno seems reasonably wary, holding up his hands as he eyes both you and the possible weapon. “Good to… see you again. Bruno, right?” As if you’d forget.

“Mhm,” he grunts, palms lowering as he lets one rest on the nearby machine.

You fall into the pit of another silence, staring up at him before setting your basket on the machine. Why had you been looking forward to this again? It was so painfully awkward, with nothing but the passionate (and cheesy) theme song of another telenovela rumbling in the background.

Wordlessly, the both of you get to work, sorting your respective laundry by color into the proper piles. It stretches on and on, until.

“¿Qué quieres decir con que es tu hijo? ¡Es claramente rubio!” Bruno mutters under his breath with the imposing grandmother on screen, what was her name? Ana?

But it’s jarring enough to get a laugh out of you and you respond in kind, puffing your chest as you quote Jorge, “¡Es mi hijo, no importa el color de su cabello! Lo amo Mamá, él es mi orgullo y alegría.”

Bruno shoots you an appreciative grin, and you grin right back, shoulders lowering comfortably. Right. This is why.

It seems that Bruno must have a similar schedule to yours, considering you keep meeting each weekend, same time, in the same laundromat. The silences get smaller each time, the conversation becoming almost a game between you two. Whoever can quote something on the tv as it airs first ‘wins,’ though you never really remember setting a specific prize. You suppose that smile is enough.

It starts small, as most friendships do. But soon enough, for your every rambling explanation he has an amused retort, a probing question, or an approving hum. You talk the hour away as your respective laundry machines whirl and whirl, a comfortable cycle that you come to rely on to bring some brightness to your week.

“What do you mean Gabriella should choose Hernando? He’s the villain, isn’t he?” Bruno jabs, sorting his darks and lights before he tosses them in the washer.

“Well,” you begin, shoulders rising to their defensive tilt as they have countless times before on the subject, “villains should get their happy ending too! He’s been through a lot, you know?” He grins down at you, something like mischief dancing in his eyes.

“And that’s why he’d eat you up in a heartbeat. Hernando doesn’t care about anyone, that’s his whole thing!” Bruno replies, waggling his eyebrows.

“Yuh-huh. You just wait, I’ll bet Gabriella chooses him within the next aired episode. Jorge is sweet, but Hernando just has too much temptation going for him!” You huff, though there’s no real fire behind it.

He smirks, shrugging. “I can bet that you’ll find out something about Hernando that makes you change your mind on that. No man is that mysterious without some skeletons in his closet.”

“Dios, another one of your predictions,” you groan, bringing one hand dramatically to your forehead. He huffs sharply out of his nose, which at this point was like hearing a full-bellied laugh from him. “You,” you continue, pointing your trusty lint roller at him, “can see the future, my friend. I just wish the future wasn’t so cruel to Hernando!”

At first, you thought he was a man of few words, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Given an interesting enough topic, the man could spin a tale as long as that one thread you keep finding mysteriously reappearing at the end of one of your old sweaters.

He never really talks about his work or his own life, but he’s enamored with the fictional ones playing on the screen. While you’d been uncertain at first that he’d been as much of a geek about Pedro Oscar’s writing as you were, you were soon enough reassured that you’d met your match. Bruno was delighted to talk about the certain cinematic choices that Oscar had taken liberties with, barely praising and criticizing in further measure.

At times you found yourself defending the poor man for weeks, each one of your laundry companion’s concerns rebutted with what you considered flawless logic, though it didn’t mean that you won every argument. In the end, telenovela was telenovela, in all of its terribly flawed glory. Even you had to admit that the Abuela Ana coma story arc felt quite contrived.

“Say,” he says one weekend, not quite meeting your gaze. Strange, and yet strangely familiar. It reminds you of when he first appeared, unsure and unreadable as he wrings his hands with a hesitant smile. “Would you… want to go get some coffee? I think we could… er… do without the detergent smell, for once. Talk about the telenovelas somewhere else?”

Your heart leaps in your throat, but you manage to swallow it back down. “Oh. Sure. But… what about the laundry?” Finding your bearings, you crack a grin. “I’m not exactly looking to get my socks stolen.”

He clears his throat, and you find your eyes drawn to it. Focus, fool, focus. “Not now, of course. Maybe later this week?”

Oh. Oh, is this…?

“Sure. Let me give you my number?” He nods rapidly in response, and you have to restrain a laugh at that. “I, uh… don’t have any paper on me. Or… a pen. Do you?”

Bruno winces, and he pats his pockets. “Ah, I always keep a pen on me, but…” he pulls out a crumpled receipt, stained with something that looks like food grease. Staring blankly at it, he sighs and offers you a sheepish smile. Now, you can’t restrain the laugh. A bright flush comes to his cheeks, darkening as he splutters a wordless retort to your laughter, but you snatch both the pen and scrap of paper before he can form any real response. Scribbling the storefront’s telephone on the blank side, you hand it back with a smile.

“I’ll keep the pen,” you tease, tucking it behind your ear. “Just to make sure you don’t chicken out.” His eyes dart to your fingers, and then to the paper you’ve handed him, which he neatly folds and places back in his pocket.

“... Right. I’ll… call you soon, then?” He gathers up his basket, clothes already folded. Somehow, that fact had escaped you two for the past twenty or so minutes.

“Right.” You wave goodbye, a warm smile scrunching your eyes as he slips out the door with a bashful wave of his own.

As soon as he’s out of sight, you let out a delighted laugh, doing a little twirl. You, you of all people, have a coffee date. You pull the pen from your ear, twirling it in your fingers. It’s engraved, oddly enough, and the name seems a little familiar, though you can't quite place it. “Bruno Madrigal.” The fact that he just let you keep it… well, that’s something to address later. You can scold him on his doormat-iness when you see him. On a date. At the coffee shop.

With a bright grin, you gather your clothes and make a beeline for the door.

[starlightxsvt]

3 dates | c.sc

pairing ➳ badboy!Seungcheol x female!reader

genre ➳ badboy au, romance, some fluff, angst, bad attempt at humour, gets spicy at the end.

word count ➳ 12.4k+ (i have NO idea how this became so long so strap in for a ride)

warnings ➳ cursing, mentions of killing, mentions criminal activities, slight violence(non explicit), smoking, ma man Seungcheol ain't your typical badboy, self doubt, blackmailing, reader does all sorts of risky things cuz she's a SIMP, blood(nothing explicit), kissing, marking, some breast worshipping, grinding, reader is horny lol. (Please lemme know if I forgot anything.)

synopsis ➳ after one fateful encounter with him you cannot get him out of your head. so you opt to do some crazy things to catch his attention and even snag a few dates with him. only trouble is he isn't the type to stay after the whole disposition is over.

Swirling the third drink in your hand you heave yet another depressed sigh. You are so tired that you feel like you can just slump on the counter and pass out. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to stop for a drink, you alcohol riddled brain thinks.

The plans you had with Katelyn was cancelled last moment; she called to tell you that her thesis submission date was moved forward and so she couldn't hang out with you tonight. You're in the middle of an existential crisis quite literally, the too many part time jobs yet still lack of money and copious amounts of study getting to you. Staring hard at your drink you contemplate if it is worth giving up on college and your dream of becoming an arts major. It sure feels tempting right now, the long hours at the diner and not enough sleep at night proving to be the worst nuisance.

Sighing you put down your drink. It's still early, you should go home and try to catch up on the much needed sleep. You really had no intention of grabbing a drink tonight; you have morning classes tomorrow but you made a last moment decision to stop for a drink on your way back home. You didn't take your usual route to home today, and while trudging through the streets tiredly you came across this bar called Seventeen's. You've heard stories about this place, how it is the home to local gangs and how it's bad people's turf and what not. Your curiosity, probably too much of that made you get inside for a drink even though all the bones in your body ached. The inside is what you expected, nowhere near fancy but dingy, just decent enough. The people inside didn't look friendly and if the chains and tattoos on them gave any indication you'd say the rumours are true; this is the turf of gangs. The drinks taste decent, not the best but not the worst and from the overall look of this place you don't really have a reason to come back.

You're about to stand up from your stool when a large, clammy hand grabs your wrist out of nowhere, making you jump. "Hey sexy, sit down. Let me buy you a drink," the owner of the hand, a large, tattooed middle aged man slurs making your nose scrunch out of disgust. You're wearing nothing that can be called sexy; a plain cardigan and jeans and the way he looks you up and down makes you want to poke his eyes out.

You really shouldn't have come here. Clenching your jaw, you meet his eyes, "What makes you think I'm interested to have a drink with you?"

"Oh come on, why would you be here then, lookin' all nice? Just sit down," the man drawls, an ugly smile on his face. He still hasn't let go of your wrist and it's making you impatient. Looks like you're gonna have to kick his balls tonight. Maybe the self defense classes didn't completely go to waste.

"Get your disgusting hands off me while I'm being nice, sleazeball," you hiss at him, trying to get his hand off. The man stands up growling, "What did you say you bitch?" You're preparing to break his nose when out of nowhere a punch lands on his face that sends him tumbling to the ground. The attacker gets on top of him and twists his arm and you can literally hear a bone snap.

Shit.

"I think she said she is not interested," the man hisses, landing yet another another hit on his face before kicking his groin and getting up. When he turns around and his eyes meet yours, your heart skips a few beats and you almost The man is drop dead gorgeous, someone you would not expect to see here but probably on the cover of a high end magazine. His blond hair is long, crossing the nape of his neck as well as some covering his forehead. What takes your breath away the most is his eyes, the most beautiful pair you've ever seen. They seem to have their own galaxies in them, so deep and mesmerising and decorated with lashes long enough to make you jealous. His dress up, black jacket and jeans, immediately tells you what he is; a gang member.

"You should get home, lady," He speaks in a no nonsense tone, his face cold as ice. But you're offended. "Excuse me? Who are you calling lady? You make it sound like I'm old." You puff your cheeks and cross your arms, trying to appear intimidating. "Besides I had the situation under control, you didn't need to butt in." The man keeps looking at you with that no nonsense look, his features displaying annoyance if you are right and he's clearly not intimidated. The dude on the floor grunts and makes an effort to get up, only to be kicked by your saviour once more. "Hey Mingyu, get him out of here. What was this piece of trash doing here anyway?" The man orders to someone before turning to look at you, "Do you live far?"

"Uh- no, a ten minutes walk from here maybe," you reply unsurely, surprised at his question. The blond haired man nods before grabbing your wrist, "I'll walk you home. Hurry up, lady." You have a feeling he's purposely calling you that and though you start following him out of the bar, you make grunts of protest.

"Oh yeah, why? Trying to find out my address? So you can come later and hurt me like that guy?" You would not be this brazen if it wasn't for the alcohol in your system, after all the man next you isn't a friendly one if the rumours are true. The man raises a brow at you, "Did you do something that requires me to beat you up?" You hiccup at his serious tone. Does he not get a joke? He lets go of your hand now that you're at a safe distance from the bar but still stays close enough to you as your steps are rather stumbling and messy. You aren't fully drunk but your body is tired and feels like will shut down any second.

You really need some sleep.

"You know I'm not that drunk. You don't have to walk me home." You complain. "I'm walking you home because this isn't a nice place you should be alone at night. What happened earlier could happen again." He says not looking at you. "Mhmm," you keep on trudging behind him, "Thank you so much for your kind gesture, sir." You mock him but he doesn't reply, staring straight ahead, completely ignoring you as he walks quietly. In silence you two walk the rest of the path, before finally stopping as your apartment comes into view. At this point it feels like your bones will break and you will plop down on the concrete any second, but you manage to keep standing. "Well, thanks for walking me home." You shift your weight from one foot to another. "And for helping me back there." He shrugs coolly, a bored expression on his face. He's turning to walk away when you call, "Hey- I didn't get your name."

"What do you need it for?" He side glances at you. You shrug, "I don't know. You helped me so I thought it'd be nice to know your name." "You don't need to. Go inside, lady." He says, his tone final and starts marching away. You wait a couple moments before yelling, "Asshole!" and quickly rushing inside your building, partly afraid he's gonna come back.

You won't be surprised if you get killed tonight.

-

"So you are telling me Choi Seungcheol walked you home?" Katelyn screams in your ear, jolting up from her seat, earning glares from other people at the library in the process. "That's his name?" You whisper-yell, grabbing her hand to pull her back down. "I'm guessing from the blond hair you said," Katelyn shrugs. "Uh huh." You mean back in your chair, "He was hot though."

"Is that seriously all you have to say?" Katelyn whines exasperatedly. "No, I mean, if it wasn't for the way he dresses or talks I would have thought he's a model or something." You murmur.

"Are you sure he didn't hurt you?" Katelyn questions. "Hell no!" You frown. "He saved me from that creepy old dude. I was surprised too. I wish I didn't drink so much, I could have gotten a better look at his face," you sigh. "Seriously?" Katelyn raises a brow at you.

"Girl, you should have seen him. His aura and the way he carried himself was...so hot." You grin to yourself. Katelyn watches you like you've grown two heads. "Are you trying to tell me you have a crush on that gangster?" You smile sheepishly, "Maybe, I mean it's harmless. He was broody yet charming and I'm a girl so.... Also, it's not like he likes me too and is gonna come running whenever I ask him to bang me." You mutter.

"Oh he's gonna break your bones and bang your skull against a wall. That's what he's gonna do."

"Come on! Maybe he isn't so bad. Maybe the rumours are just rumours. Maybe he just looks intimidating and dresses up like that and people thinks he's a gangster." "Really? His name is on every bad thing that happens around here. From illegal racing to murders. Do you know that people say he has killed too?" "Like I said, rumours," you shrug being your stubborn self. Katelyn holds her hands up in surrender, "You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm glad you're alive so let's just put this behind us, shall we?" You don't reply but wiggle your brows at her, a conspirational look on your face. "Oh no, don't look at me like that," Katelyn warns. "Let's go to that bar tonight. Please?" You give her your best puppy eyes. "What are you? Fucking crazy? You wanna get killed?" She whisper-yells, scowling at you. "No. I just wanna take another look at him. Without the alcohol in my system you know. Besides, the place isn't that bad." You reply.

"Well then get killed by yourself. I'm not coming with you."

"I'll help you with your papers for the rest of the semester."

"Shit."

-

"Well, looks like your wish won't be coming true," Katelyn muses chugging down her fourth glass as you keep playing with your first one. It's nearing an hour since you've come to the bar and there has been no sign of the man you desperately seek. The place is exactly like it was the other day, filled with people who you wouldn't want to mess with.

Yet here you are.

"Let's call it a night," Katelyn sighs. "We're just wasting our time." You know that too but you don't want to leave; not just yet. You are well aware that this is just pathetic but you've this crazy urge to see that man once again. You don't know why you feel this way; you never felt like this before. Why are thinking yourself to death about a complete stranger? Has some kind of spell been casted on you?

"Yeah, let's get going," you murmur half heartedly. You help your friend stand up as she's a little wobbly on her feet and together you make your way through the door. "Should we call a cab?" You ask Katelyn. She shakes her head no and you nod, you arms wrapped around hers to support her in case she looses her balance. You start stepping away from the bar and towards the road to her place until a noise from behind makes you stop in your tracks.

"Did you hear that?" You ask, whipping your head behind. There's no one around and the street is mostly dark other than the light flashing from the name of the bar. You hear the sound once again and this time you can locate where it's coming from. There's an abandoned playground at the back of the bar and you've a feeling that's the source.

Katelyn hisses as she sees you step towards there. "What are you doing!"

"Didn't you hear that?"

"Yes I did. That's why I say we leave!" You ignore her and cautiously keep on stepping forward, mentally cursing yourself for wearing heels. Katelyn follows behind you murmuring all kinds of warnings. "You know curiosity killed the cat, right?" She whispers.

You roll your eyes, "Well I'm not a cat. Just- be quiet. It can be nothing." You both move past the bar gingerly and towards the playground at the back. There are old gallons of oil and abandoned materials just around the corner and you two quickly hide among them. It takes you a while to get adjusted to the low light after you poke your head up from the hiding spot.

You're eyes fix on him immediately. His blond hair makes him easily recognisable amid the darkness. There is a few more people around him, all kicking something in the ground. Not something, but someone. The man lying on the ground groans in pain and you realize this is what you both heard. "Shit," You hear Katelyn curse from beside you. "We need to get going." Instead of replying, you keep your eyes trained on the scene unfolding, holding your breath. You're tranced. Seungcheol lands continuous punched on the guy laying below him and after a moment his writhing frame seems to stop moving as it falls limp.

Fuck.

"You know in movies this is the part where people get caught." Katelyn whispers, her voice hoarse and her hand clutching yours in a tugging motion. "Uh-huh. But I can't seem to move. I wonder if he's... really dead." You whisper back. "Are you fucking crazy!" She hisses. "You wanna witness murder?"

Before you can reply you hear a sound that echoes through the empty field and it takes a second for you two to realise that it came from any one of you two. You don't have the time to figure out who made it as you both are crawling away from the playground without looking back, head crouched low to avoid being seen. You don't know if they heard that or if they're coming behind you, you both just keep scrambling, moving until you're past the corner. As soon as possible you both get on your feet and run like the grim reaper is chasing you, stopping only when you are far enough from the bar.

"I am never listening to you again!" Katelyn yells.

-

It's been a good few days since your near death experience and you somehow find yourself in front of that bar once again. You and Katelyn have not brought up that incident after that night. You made yourself believe that it was over and came to a conclusion that it is better to forget that man and leave all of it behind, no matter how much your heart disagreed. But it's easier said than done; you may not mention him out loud but in the back of your mind you think of him. He's like a ghost, haunting you all the time, plagueing your thoughts when you go to bed at night. It felt like he was ever existent and there was an itch in your heart that drove you insane.

Maybe that's why your subconscious brought you here, in front of Seventeen's, once again. You were on your way back home from library and you thought you took your usual route, until you realized you were standing in front of that place. But what is even terrifying is that the man haunting your mind stands in front of the entrance of the bar and you blink a few times to make sure you are not hallucinating. He's leaned against the entrance door, cigarette between his lips and from his pocket he fetches a lighter to light the poison in his mouth.

Damn, lighting up a cigarette never looked this sexy.

He hasn't seen you yet and you contemplate running the other way. That's the sensible thing to do but you, not being a sensible person, start walking towards him. Your footsteps make him look up and notice you and like the last time, there is no expression on his face. It's the same bored yet handsome face except now in daylight you can take a better look at him and this time, you notice a little mole on the left of his face, by his nose. Realising he's gonna stay silent you decide to speak, "Hi... It's me... Do you remember me?" Wow. That's such an intelligent thing to ask.

With the monotoned yet serious expression on his face, he goes, "Why won't I? I don't have Alzheimer's."

So he can joke.

You laugh, an awkward, probably exaggerated laugh. "What are you doing here? Did you not learn your lesson last time?" He cuts to the chase, his voice brassy and deep, almost threatening. You want to roll your eyes. "Who are you to say? I can be wherever I want whenever I want, thank you very much." "Well then, have fun getting in trouble like last time." He's nonchalant as he blows a smoke right past you and stands up straight, turning away. "Wait!" You almost grab his hand, desperate to stop him.

What is wrong with you? Your subconscious slaps her forehead. What are you holding him back for? To say 'hello sir, I think you're hot, can you please put your dick inside me'? Seungcheol turns his head back, his eyebrow cocked up.

Why do you find everything about him so attractive?

"Um...I know your name, Seungcheol." You speak, trying to sound intimidating, like knowing his name gives you some power over him. There's something definitely wrong with you which is why you don't want him to leave just yet and which is why you're stalling time. But it seems to have done the job as he pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and turns towards you, an annoyed look on his face. "How do you know that?" The timbre of his tone is deep and it rakes shivers down your spine. "Well, you've built quite a reputation for yourself so it isn't hard to get your name." You shrug coolly. "Well, if you know so much about my reputation, you should know what I'm capable of." His lone is low, almost threating as he starts to take slow steps towards you making you step back out of reflex.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe you will also end up like the curious cat.

"Oh yes, I know. People have got a lot to say about you," you try to sound unfazed, not meeting his eyes that you feel are burning holes on your face. "What are you doing here, lady?" he asks slowly, pausing between each word and glaring at you as he continues to step forward. You can feel his patience thinning.

"I swear to God if you call me that-"

"What are you doing here?" This time his tone is scary, too scary. It makes you lose the ability to speak for a second as his dark gaze bores into you. He has backed you up against the wall behind you and you swallow. Right, what are you doing here? It probably has something to do with a very hot individual and his insanely attractive aura. Scratch that you are a hundred percent sure it has something to do with the blond haired, enticing man in front of you. He's driving you mad and you need to get your fill of him.

"Go out with me," you state and you are sure you've never spoken words more stupid than that. Internally, you cringe and pray that the ground below you would open and take you straight to the fiery pits.

This is the first time you see some sort of expression come across his face; surprise. He looks utterly shocked and somewhat confused. His mouth opens just a little and he squints at you, "What?"

There's no going back now.

"Go out with me. Let's go on three dates." you say once more, looking him in the eye. He seems to appear even more surprised, a dumbstruck look sitting on his face. He observes you quietly for a while and you can feel the gears in his head shifting. You wonder what he's gonna say next. Or maybe he won't say anything but bang your head on the wall and leave you to die alone. "I'm sorry I'm not following," he looks genuinely perplexed. "I want to go on three dates with you. They say after three dates you can figure out whether you like that person or not and I think I like you so..."

I think I like you.

The biggest understatement of the year.

Seungcheol tilts his head, an amused expression on his face as he studies you, those sharp eyes of his settling on yours, "What is your deal, sweetheart?" He crosses his arms, a brow raised. Sweetheart? That's new. And definitely better than lady. You can't deny how hearing him call you that makes your insides melt. "Nothing. I just want to date you," you shrug, trying to keep your wits together. His proximity is driving you wild; you can sniff a faint smell of cologne and cigarette, him being inches away from you. This time he laughs loudly, a mocking laugh you'd say. "Who sent you?"

Oh my god.

You roll your eyes. "Nobody sent me! Do I look like I'm a gang member or something?" "Then I don't see a reason why you'd want to date me," He states, throwing a challenging look at you.

"What if I said I have a thing for bad boys?"

He snorts. "You don't look the type to date bad boys," he mocks. "Who are you to say that?" You cross your arms. "I want to date you because I think you're hot, okay?" You can not believe you just said that. Looks like you don't have control over your mouth anymore. Warmth spreads throughout your face like a forest fire.

Seungcheol narrows his eyes on you, his tongue poking his cheek as he stands in front of you as if trying to read your mind. After a beat he sighs before looking at you, his eyes becoming darker than usual and his gaze unforgiving. "Hey. Does it look like I'm playing house here? Do you have any idea about the shit I do? The dirty work I do? I don't care if you have a fucking fetish or whatever but this is the last time I'm warning you. I don't want to see you around again. If I see you here once more, you're in fucking trouble," he spits and starts stomping away. His tone is serious and you know very well he is not joking, which is why you use your last resort. You're embarrassed at yourself for being so desperate but at the same time you feel shameless. It has almost turned into a game at this point, you want to make him surrender. That's right, you want him to give in. "You shouldn't be like that with me. I saw you, a few days ago. That night, when you and your friends were beating up that guy...in the playground," you casually stroll to come stand right behind him.

You can't believe you are blackmailing a gangster. Your death must be near.

Seungcheol whips his head back, his eyes glaring at you and you can almost see fire in them. Finally, you got his attention.

"My friend also saw it, we both did. You killed him, didn't you? Me and my friend witnessed a murder. What do you say? Should we go to the station?" You can see his jaw clench and you can't hold back a victorious smirk. Moments pass by as your words hang in the air and the tension between you gets thicker. Yet once more he surprises you, breaking the silence with a chuckle, "Well I killed one person, what makes you think I can't take care of another?"

You swallow.

"Well, my friend already knows so if I go missing you can be sure that the cops will come to you first." You throw back at him.

When did you get so wreckless?

Seungcheol stares at you for a few more seconds before shrugging and moving his hand dismissively, "Well then go tell the cops. I don't give a shit." He starts walking back to the bar leaving you starstruck. He stops and turns towards you before opening the door, "Also, I meant it. I hope I don't see you around. Otherwise I may just have to hurt that pretty face."

-

You don't show up after that.

Mostly because you are embarasssed.

It's been a good while after your last encounter with Seungcheol and you didn't go to the police, obviously. Because you don't have evidence and from what you've heard Seungcheol is pretty influential around here and you don't need to go to an extent to get on his bad side. You're definitely gonna end up dead if you do so, which you don't want just yet.

Classes have just finished and you and Katelyn step out of the classroom together, walking through the hallways and into the main campus. She rambles on about some bad sushi she ate yesterday while your mind remains preoccupied. Maybe you need to get laid. Maybe that'll make you forget about Seungcheol. You just need good dick that's probably why you were so desperate for him.

That's just a stupid lie.

You don't realise Katelyn is calling you until she shakes you by the shoulder and you snap back into reality. You notice her face is as pale as a ghost and following her line of sight your eyes stop on him.

Him. Seungcheol.

What?

You double take, blinking furiously to confirm your vision. He's standing there, in the parking area of your uni, leaned against a convertible Ferrari, a cigarette between his lips. He looks relaxed, like he does this regularly. Students whisper in each others ear while gawking at him curiously. "What did you do!" Katelyn yells. "Nothing!" You hiss back.

"Then why is he here!"

"I don't know!"

Your eyes meet with Seungcheol's and a smirk spreads across his face making you shiver. He stands up straight and tilts his head, an indication for you to come closer to him. "Fuck, he's here for me," you mumble. "Of course he's here for you, dumbass," Katelyn snaps. "Well, if I don't return, you know who killed me." You sigh starting to walk towards him. "Wait- you're going with him?" She asks incredulously.

"Don't worry. I'll keep my phone on. I don't think he's gonna murder me, I mean there are so many witnesses." You inhale deeply, leaving behind a lost looking Katelyn.

Seungcheol says nothing as you stand right in front of him raising an inquisitive brow but he only holds open the door for you to get in. Deciding to follow him you enter the car quietly and a wave of gasps go through the crowd.

There's gonna be talk about this tomorrow.

Seungcheol, still smirking victoriously for some reason rounds the car and gets inside and within seconds you're hitting the road. There's a thick silence for a while, which feels like ages to you. You're overwhelmed, bewildered to say anything; your poor brain still processing what is happening. You're nervous, jittery as you fiddle with you bag and look out on your side, for some reason scared to look at him.

What if he really kills you? He wouldn't, right?

"You're awfully quiet," Seungcheol says matter of factly as he spares you a glance while driving.

"I'm... processing."

"What are you, a robot?"

"Why are you doing this?" You question instead.

"Doing what?"

"Okay, you know very well what I mean. Why are you picking me up from uni all of a sudden? How do you even know I'm a student there?" "I have resources and...you didn't protest at all. You came along nicely," Seungcheol raised a brow at you, a cocky smile on his lips. You don't answer but continue to stare at him, trying to pin him down with your gaze. He finally sighs and pulls the car to a stop by the side of the road, the sudden brake making you slightly jerk in your seat. "I've decided to give you those 3 dates. That's why," He is calm, unreadable and you wonder if this is a prank. Then again, he has no reason to prank you, does he? "Really?" Your voice comes out breathy. "Yes. I thought I'd give you a taste of how it feels to be with someone like me. I can scare people without physically hurting them you know," He says in a menacing tone.

"So what? You're taking me to an underground fight or something?" You question. "Nah, we're keeping it simple today." He smirks as he starts the car again and turns on the radio, an indication that he doesn't want to converse anymore.

Shamelessly you take a good look at Seungcheol; he's dressed in another jacket today paired with a black tee underneath. Today, you notice he has upped his accessory game, his fingers full of rings and chains dangling from his neck. But what catches your attention is a tattoo, something like a dragon and words written in a language you don't understand, peeking from underneath his sleeve. You almost ask about it but decide it'll probably be too much and he wouldn't answer you anyway.

As you do so, in the back of your mind you think you should have dressed better, something cuter, more appropriate for a date rather than a plain blouse and jeans. But then again who knew Choi Seungcheol was gonna show up out of the blue. You're gnawing at your lower lip, lost in your thoughts when the car is pulled to a halt and you realize your ride is over. You're parked in front of a diner called Lacy's and from the vibe that the place is giving, you can tell that this is place where people like him hang out. You raise a questioning brow at Seungcheol who says, "I know it doesn't look fancy but trust me I has some of the best food I've ever eaten." Taking his words for now you quickly type out a text to Katelyn letting her know you're in one piece and get out of the car.

Once you're seated you look around the place which is relatively empty except some men playing pool at the far end. You watch Seungcheol who has gone to the reception booth to place your orders; his posture relaxed as he leans against the counter and talks to the girl standing there. They seem to know each other because their chat takes longer than it should and the girl has a shy, almost flirty smile on her face.

He probably fucks her.

You shake the thought off your head as the gangster comes back and sits in front of you. There's silence for a second as you wonder if you should just ask the questions that run free around your mind. "Are the rumours true?" You blurt out. He's raises a brow.

"About you. You know..."

"Do you want them to be true?" He asks back. "I don't...know," you reply. "Well, I think it depends on each person. If you want it to be true it is true, if you don't it isn't," he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. "Why don't you just give me a straight answer?" you snap. He smirks as if he's having fun but doesn't reply, watching you with his arms crossed. You roll your your eyes, blowing out an exasperated breath. "You know, I haven't seen one like you. Willingly hanging out with dangerous people, going to dangerous places. You say you saw me kill someone yet you're here. You're almost desperate to get in trouble," he observes. "I'm not desperate to get in trouble. I just...I'm just- attracted to you alright?" This is so embarrassing. You need to shut your mouth. "You've been on my mind ever since that night. I wanna see exactly how deep I'm into you." You bite your lip.

That's enough. You will boost his ego through the roof like this.

Seungcheol studies you for a bit before grinning cockily, "Well, if you didn't know, I am trouble baby. Just you being with me might end you up in a mess." Before you can reply, your food is served, that same girl from the booth setting down your plates and looking at Seungcheol for a bit too long with that same stupid smile which he returns. You don't know why but you feel jealous, jealous of whatever these two share, whatever she has with him.

You've lost your mind at this point. You're on a high that is Seungcheol. He has made you forget your morals, made you completely lose your mind. Or maybe you've been too good all your life and seeing him brought out that crazy, thrill seeking part of yourself.

Silently you dig into your food and as Seungcheol said, the food is really good. This is one of the best meatloaf you've ever had and you can't help but moan. Seungcheol watches you with an amused smile before popping a fry in his mouth.

"What's your major?" Seungcheol asks out of the blue.

"Uh- sociology."

"Mmhmm."

You're about to ask him what he studied in college but you assume he probably never went to one so you seal your lips. You wonder what his background is and who his parents are but you don't want to get too personal on the first day. So you ask something else, "How old are you?" He laughs out loud before he deadpans, "Thirty five." "What!" You almost choke.

There's no way he's-

"Why? What did you expect?"

"I... I don't know! A few years older than me? You're kidding right? You don't look thirty five." He has to be bluffing. "And how old would you be?" "You shouldn't ask a woman her age," you try to make a point. "Don't you have any manners?" He smirks,"I don't, sweetheart. To answer your question, I'm twenty eight."

Uh huh.

"Well, I'm twenty one," you mutter under your breath. You don't know if he hears it because he doesn't give any reaction, busy twirling a fry in sauce. The rest of your meal is full of silence as you wonder if your date will end like this; dry and boring. He's awfully silent and seems to be lost in thoughts as he doesn't engage in a conversation. You're about to take your last bite when the silence is broken by him.

"What did you see that night?" He leans over, his elbows resting on the table as he suddenly regards you with a sombre look, his earlier cockiness vanished. His eyes have once again gone dark and his demeanor says he's not being superficial right now. You're caught off guard as you cough loudly, reaching for your glass to take a sip of water. "What?"

"You heard me. What did you see that night? Exactly how much did you see?" He repeats. You're confused. You thought he didn't care about it. He said it didn't matter. So why is he bringing it up now? You've worked hard to push that night in the deepest part of your brain, pretending it didn't happen.

And then suddenly it clicks.

"You!" You point an accusatory finger at him as you catch on to his plan. "You've agreed to go out with me so that you can find out what I saw that night!" Seungcheol groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Ugh, just fucking tell me!" He snaps, annoyed that you've found out his little scheme. You scoff, "I thought you said you didn't care? Besides it's not like I'm going to tell the police." He rolls his eyes and leans back into the couch. "Just tell me and let me go."

You're baffled. His actions didn't make any sense and you actually thought he had no other intentions behind dating you but holy shit this sneaky bastard. "You sly little asshole!" You hiss at him. "Call me that once more and you'll regret it." He threatens. You roll your eyes sagging back into your seat, "Whatever." Then an idea hits you. "You know what, I'll tell you exactly how much I saw that night." You have Seungcheol's full attention now as he stares intensely at you, waiting for your next words. "On our third date. When this whole deal is over, I'll tell you. But in return you'll have to keep your promise and take me out on two more dates."

"Oh fucking hell," he groans rubbing his face in frustration. His state makes you smirk and you feel accomplished.

Choi Seungcheol is stressed because of you.

What a day to be alive.

You murmur, "Besides this isn't even a proper date. This was more like an interrogation. But I'll go easy on you and won't make you redo this date." You give him a sweet smile and he sees red. You can literally see fury blaze in his eyes. "Whatever!" He yells and abruptly stands up. "I don't have time for this. Your stupid play date is over. I'm dropping you home."

Before you can reply, he's marching towards the door. You've to admit this wasn't the best date but at least you've trapped Choi Seungcheol.

-

It has been a good week after your so called date at the diner and you haven't heard from him. You expected him to call or text you since he was gracious enough to ask for your number but he didn't. You now realize it was a mistake to not get his number; you had asked him for his when he took yours but being the prick he is he denied to hand over his number to you. You should have forced him to, you sigh. As you sit in the library the ping of your mobile distracts you from your racing thoughts as you realize you have a message. Picking the device up you tap on the notification. Even though it was from an unknown number, you have no trouble figuring out who it is from. A smile graces your lips as you read the words over again.

I'll pick you up from your house tomorrow evening at six.

That's all it says and that is good enough to send a thrum of excitement throughout your body.

-

You have not held back in dressing up today and you realize it's been a long time since you've dolled up yourself. A long before the clock strikes 6 you are ready; dressed in a cute pastel top and a matching skirt. You've also went ahead and applied makeup, not too much but just enough to maybe catch his eye. Maybe.

You wonder what he has planned for today.

A text from Seungcheol saying he's here has you flying out of your apartment as fast as your feet can carry your desperate self to see him. He stands in front of your apartment with his convertible, dressed in a white jacket that matched his pants. You take a deep breath before walking towards him, trying to calm all your nerves down.

"You know I expected to hear from you earlier. I've been waiting all week," you voice makes his head turn around to meet your eyes as you are skipping towards him with a teasing smile in your face. "I've been busy," he shrugs coolly, his eyes going over your whole body, from your legs to your face. He doesn't hide that he's taking a good look at you, in fact does it unashamedly.

You wonder if he likes what he sees.

Someone dressed up today," he comments. "Too bad we aren't going to a place where you can show off your pretty clothes." You frown, "Where are we going?" Seungcheol holds open the door, a mischievous smile on his face. "I've decided to grant your wish." With a confused face you get inside the car, the gears in your head running. What does he mean?

"I'm taking you to an underground fighting ring," he says with smirk as he reaches for something behind his seat. He pulls out a large hoodie and tosses it towards you, "Put this on. Otherwise you are going to attract a lot of attention and you don't want that." You gulp, taking the hoodie and putting it on you. You're slightly embarrassed. You were so excited to try this outfit but it's not like you knew he was taking you to a fight club. Hell you would have dressed like a guy if you knew. You shrug on the hoodie and it falls almost to your knees but it's huge and comfy and most importantly it smells like him. There's a hint of cologne, nothing too strong; a subtle, expensive scent that makes you want to take a deeper sniff. You wonder if you can keep this with you.

Stop it, pervert.

Seungcheol's voice pulls you out of your haze, "You can take it off later. Just wear it until we're out of there," he says and brings the engine to life.

Then you actually think about it. Underground fighting ring? Holy shit. You were only kidding when you mentioned it. Admittedly, you're shocked, somewhat horrified. Everyone knows it isn't the best place to be at especially for someone like you who never had such an experience. Seungcheol must have seen your expression because the smile on his face gets bigger, "Why? You not up for it?" His voice is teasing.

He's challenging you.

Oh well.

"Of course I'm up for it," you square your shoulders, keeping your voice cool. "Bring it on."

-

Seungcheol leads you into a bar and then through a door at the back that leads down to a lot of stairs, reaching a place similar to an underground parking lot. Quietly you follow Seungcheol, staying as close to him as possible, your bodies occasionally touching. He leads you to a pair of double doors and from the other side you can hear men shouting and chanting.

This is it, I guess.

Seungcheol throws one more smile at you before pushing open the doors as you scramble to follow him closely. The sight that greets you something you only see in movies. There's a boxing ring where two people are throwing punches at each other and surrounding them from all sides is a wild, loud and excited crowd. They continue to cheer loudly as the two men in the ring continue to box and you hear their grunts and groans.

Holy shit.

Swallowing your eyes meet Seungcheol's who is regarding you with curiosity. "What do you think?" He has to speak loudly for you to hear over the screaming throng. "Uh... It's loud," you say dumbly as you try to think of a reply. But it's too loud for you to even think properly as you take in your unfamiliar surroundings. You see a tall man approaching towards you and out of reflex you shuffle closer to Seungcheol until you realize it's his friend. The guy from the first night. He and Seungcheol grin at each other, patting their backs as they talk close to each others ears. You gawk at them curiously and realize they must be talking about you because his friend takes curious glances at you occasionally. His friend is tall, really tall and well built but unlike his body his face is sweet and puppy like, almost cute. When he grins his canines pop up just like a puppy and you wonder if all his friends are good looking.

After he's done chatting with his friend Seungcheol pulls you close and says, "This is my friend. Mingyu. Always stay near him, you hear me? Don't stray away unless you wanna get hurt." His eyes are stern as he pins you down with his stare but you have other thoughts running in your head.

"What do you mean? Where are you going?" You yell over the noise.

He just smirks at you and starts taking his jacket off. "About time you see how we do it around here." His tone is cocky as he hands his jacket to you, "Hold this for me. And stay close to him."

Giving a look at Mingyu Seungcheol starts walking away towards a door that you're guessing is the changing room.

He's gonna fight.

"Wait- but-" Mingyu stops you with a hand on your shoulder and offers you a kind smile. "It's fine. Just stay with me." He then ushers you towards the crowd, spotting a place where you can get a good look at the ring. "Do you guys do this often?" You look up at Mingyu. He smiles sheepishly, "Not me. I tried a few times and I always end up beaten to a pulp. But hyung does this often, he's really good."

"Uh huh, I'm sure he is," you smile dryly. "This is your first time watching a fight, no?" "Definitely." He grins, "Watch carefully then. It's really fun."

You have your doubts on how watching people beat each other up can be fun but you don't comment anything, instead chew on your lip anxiously. Seungcheol really didn't have to go this far? What if he gets hurt badly? Is he trying to impress you?

Don't flatter yourself, your subconscious rolls her eyes.

As the loud cheering that had died down ensues again, your train of thoughts are halted as you see Seungcheol in shorts and his hands covered in boxing gloves, step into the ring. You can't help but ogle at his naked torso, his finely defined and chiseled muscles. He has the perfect body, not too bulky, not too lean just the right amount that gives you a hard time taking your eyes off him. He seems to have noticed your gaze because the second your eyes meet, he throws a haughty, knowing smirk at you. Embarrassed you avert your gaze elsewhere.

His opponent is a muscular man who's growling and banging his chest with his fists, a gesture of intimidation, you suppose. You are definitely intimidated and you wonder if Seungcheol can actually win against him.

The fight starts with a whistle and in mere seconds they are on to each other, throwing punches left and right. Your eyes have a hard time keeping up with them and their fast reflexes and your hands fly to your mouth as a punch lands on Seungcheol's face, followed by repeated blows as Seungcheol falls back. There's a moment of silence as he wipes his bottom lip and you realize there's a cut.

He tilts his neck, popping the bones and glaring at the other man before launching himself on top of his opponent. The next moments are a blurry mess, Seungcheol beating the guy repeatedly until he ends up on the floor but he doesn't stop there. Seungcheol ends it with a sharp jab to his spine and you have no doubt the other man has broken bones with the ways he howls in pain. The match comes to an end like that as the people cheer wildly while Seungcheol steps down from the stage. Mingyu grins at you happily as if what you witnessed was just a regular occurrence, something you should be cheerful about. Shaking your head at the situation, you let out a deflated sigh.

Their life is really so different than yours.

-

Seungcheol seems to be in a very good mood after the fight as he buys you both some sandwiches and drinks from a deli after you both step out of the bar. You both sit down at a park nearby to eat and watch the night sky. "You know, I thought you were gonna lose," you speak after taking a few bites of the sandwich. Seungcheol scoffs, "You underestimate me, sweetheart. I've been doing this for a long time."

"Do you enjoy it?" You ask quietly, focused on peeling the wrapper from your food. You feel Seungcheol's stare on you. "Yes. Why? Are you scared already?"

"No. I was just... curious. Your definition and my definition of fun is totally different." You murmur. "Of course. What did you think? I go to the mall and shop and watch movies with my friends when I'm bored?" His tone is sarcastic. You bite your lip. "No I didn't. It's just...I feels different now that I have experienced it first hand." Seungcheol offers nothing more, taking a sip of his coke and leaning back into the bench. A silence stretches between the both of except the rustling of the wrapper of your food. "How long have you been doing this?" You blurt out. He frowns at you and you don't expect him to answer but he surprises you.

"For a long time."

He doesn't offer anymore and you don't have the heart to prod him for an actual answer. "And how long do you plan on doing this?"

"What?"

"I mean... don't you have any other plans. Like...do you wanna keep doing what you are doing for the rest of your life? Don't you wanna like... settle down maybe?" Your voice is soft as if you are talking to a child. Seungcheol looks annoyed. He doesn't speak for a while as he stares at the ground, a frown etched to his face. You're about to take back your question when he replies, "I really don't think you understand. I've been trying to tell you that my life is completely disparate to yours. So I don't think like you. I don't have plans like you but neither am I expected to follow a certain pattern like you. I can do whatever the fuck I want, ___. So don't look at me like you pity me. I'm the last person here that should be pitied. " His tone is sharp and it makes you feel bad, like a sensation of needles pricking your heart. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry," You whisper, feeling timid as you look down at your lap. He mutters, "Don't go poking your nose in other people's business. Specially people like me."

He's right. You shouldn't have asked that. You are not close enough to ask things like that. After that there is a silence, this time, an awkward one. There's palpable tension in the air and you feel jittery. Should you just ask him to take you home?

It's still early and truth be told, you don't want to leave him just yet. You only have one more date to go and judging by his reaction, he is in no way interested in a relationship. You heave out a long sigh. You knew very well what you were getting into, yet you couldn't stop yourself. Seungcheol is like a poison, the sweetest one, the one that has you addicted and unable to let go, no matter how much it hurts.

This is a fucking mess.

"Let's get going. I have plans," Seungcheol announces, standing up. You want to protest but you feel like you have ruined the mood, so you follow him mutely to his car.

The drive to your house is awfully quiet, to the point you want to scream out of frustration. Seungcheol seems to be lost in his head as he makes no move to talk. It's like you are alone, but you're not and it's worse, the air full of tension. Soon you have reached your house and he stops the car but keeps the engine rolling, indicating his rush. He keeps still and stares ahead while gripping the steering wheel as you step out of the car in silence. "Thanks for dropping me home," you say lamely, your voice meek. You turn around to walk away but his voice stops you in your tracks.

"I promised you three dates and I will keep my word. I expect you to keep yours, ___. I hope you will tell me what I want to hear when we meet next time." His tone is sharp with an edge of threat and you barely get to nod before he drives away.

It's not until you're inside your apartment that you realize you still have his hoodie on. Quickly fishing out your phone you type out a text.

I'm sorry, I forgot to return your hoodie.

After a while, his reply comes.

Keep it.

-

You watch Katelyn as she fills her lunch tray with food before walking over and taking a seat opposite to you. She looks extra radiant today, which probably has something to do with the way she's dressed; a bright colourful outfit which undoubtedly she put a lot of time into considering. She has a date, with a guy she has been talking to for the last few weeks. It reminds you of your pitiful situation and you sigh, trying to shrug off those thoughts.

It has been a good couple weeks since you last saw Seungcheol and you have not exchanged a word after that night. In the back of your mind you wonder if he is even alive. You want to message him, you really want to because you are going crazy but after how your last date ended, you can't bring yourself to. You are scared, exactly of what, you can't put your finger into.

The entire situation you have put yourself into is fucking scary. They say you become sure of your feelings after three dates but it did not take that much for you. You already are very certain about your feelings for him and how deep they run exactly and you also know that in the end you will be left scarred. He would never be yours. He has probably forgotten about you or decided that it is not worth another date to figure out what you saw that night.

You let a desperate, pitiable sigh.

"I know you are hiding things from me but I understand that you are not ready to talk yet. But I want you to know I am here for you okay?" Katelyn's voice makes you blink your way out of your thoughts. She squeezes your hand tightly and gives you a reassuring smile and you're left feeling guilty.

"I ...I will tell you. Soon. Just give me a bit more time," you whisper. She nods in understanding. A grateful smile touches your lips as her words make you emotional. Then there's a ping from your phone letting you know there's a message. Without giving it much thought you open the device and your eyes go wide.

I'll take you out for dinner tomorrow night. Wear something formal.

-

You wait outside your apartment for Seungcheol. Your day has passed by in a flurry of excitement and nerves as you carefully picked your outfit and did your hair and makeup. A soft baby pink dress that stopped just above you knees adorns you as your hair rests just above your neck in a loose bun.

You are fiddling with your fingers as you think about how this night is gonna end and wether you will ever see him again when a car screech that grabs your attention.

Seungcheol's convertible has taken a stop in front of you and you see the man getting out the vehicle and take big steps towards you.

You're mesmerized.

Perhaps there is not enough word in this world to describe his looks or perhaps you've simple lost the ability to speak; either way, you just stand and stare, drinking the godly man that stands in front of you. He looks delectable, completely flawless and agonizingly gorgeous in his sharp black suit and pants, with a silk black shirt underneath, the top couple buttons undone that reveals a beautiful porcelain skin. His hairstyle completes the look, parted to one side in a sleek way and showing his forehead and oh god is it sexy. You realize you have a forehead kink, if there is anything as such.

If you weren't in love with him before you are now.

He looks ravishing, and you wonder why it isn't illegal to look this good. It should be because you have completely lost control over yourself. Nothing exists in your world except for him and you feel paralyzed, unable to do anything but drink him in. You wonder if you are even worthy to stand beside him.

"____?" Seungcheol calls you, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. He must have been calling you while you were eye fucking him. "Oh! Um, hi." You're flustered. "You- you look really, really nice." It isn't enough but it's what you can get past your lips. A knowing smirk kisses his lips before he teases, "Well, you look really, really nice too." Motioning you to his car he says, "Shall we? We'll be late for our reservation."

"Yeah, of course," you say, hurrying over to his car, embarasssed at your foolery. Seungcheol must have noticed you ogling him like that. But you don't really care when he looks like that. It is his fault for looking so devilishly handsome and idly you wonder if he did that on purpose. If he's deliberately teasing with, trying to make you the most miserable before letting you go with a slap of reality to your face. Pushing away those plagueing thoughts, you sit up straight and clear your throat as Seungcheol comes to sit beside you and brings the engine to life.

A decently long and quiet (except for the music from the radio) but not quite uncomfortable car ride later, Seungcheol stops in front of a really fancy and expensive looking restaurant just by the sea. You did not except him to take you to a high end restaurant, otherwise you would have put some more effort in your looks.

Feeling slightly out of place you quietly follow Seungcheol into the beautiful European styled building after he hands his keys to a valet. The interior is dripping with polished furnitures and extravagant chandeliers and marble floors as guests dressed elegantly have their dinner. As you look around the place in awe Seungcheol talks to the receptionist who then guides you towards a staircase that leads to a pair of large double doors decorated with gold which then, opens to a large balcony. In the middle of it sits a table with two chairs and an unceremonious gasp escapes your mouth as you realize this is where you will be having dinner.

The man from earlier takes his leave as Seungcheol helps you sit down before taking a seat for himself while you take in everything, overwhelmed with all your surroundings. Why did he put so much effort for a lousy and fake date?

"What do you think?" He asks with a smirk as he rests one of his elbows on the table.

"I'm overwhelmed," you reply quietly, honestly. He chuckles, "Well this place has really good food and a fantastic view so I thought it wouldn't bad for our last date."

Last date.

"It's really beautiful. I don't know why you did this but thank you, really," you murmur, eyes on the satin table cloth with intricate golden lining. Everything about this place is so pretty.

"Well, I decided it would be beneficial for me to extract words from you if you are wooed," his words have a teasing tone to it and his demeanor is completely different from last time, giving you a whiplash but you are not sure if he's fully joking. Before you can say that you are definitely wooed, a waiter appears to take your order and you leave the duty of ordering to Seungcheol since he seems to frequent this place. Prior to his leave, the waiter pours you Seungcheol's champagne of choice and then, you two are alone once more.

Reaching for the flute, you quickly gulp down the champagne to soothe your dry throat and to calm all your nerves.

Over dinner you talk about your uni and your parents back home and the farm they own. While Seungcheol mostly keeps quiet he doesn't ignore you but listens carefully, occasionally passing glances your way or commenting. He does not offer anything about him, which you expected and you don't ask any questions about him either. Instead you try your best to keep his interest in your words despite the lack of it from his side.

After a hearty meal of poached lobsters and wagyu beefs and creamy soups comes dessert; a chocolate orange mousse with spiced fruits and yogurt sorbet. You start eating your dessert in silence, the occasional crashing of waves filling the complete lack of sounds.

This location is truly magnificent and breathtaking, almost having a feel like you're in a fancy resort in a luxurious tropical island. It is undoubtedly the most beautiful place you have ever been, let alone have dinner at and you wonder if you would ever have the chance to visit some place like this had you not met Seungcheol. The man in question, continues eating quietly, seemingly lost in his thoughts. He looks lovely as always, if not more and you try to burn this image in your mind for you to look back at later. You want to ask him so many question, you want to tell him so many things but you're scared. Sacred if you do so this moment will break, scared it will annoy him and end your final date all too early. So you bite your tongue and finish your food as he does and after your plates are cleared away, you are served another expensive champagne as an end to your luxurious dinner.

Even though Seungcheol doesn't say anything, you assume it is time to spill the beans, to say what he has been wanting to hear from the beginning. You have teased him enough and it is time you give him what he deserves. Taking a deep breath, you open your mouth. "Me and Katelyn heard noises from the playground that night so we decided to check. It was pretty dark and we were tipsy but I recognized you and you were... beating someone up. We stayed there and watched until one of us accidentally made some noise. We were scared that you heard us so we ran. That's all that happened."

You have Seungcheol's full attention now as he listens cautiously, his sharp eyes trained on you. Gulping, you clench your hands together underneath the table, waiting for his reaction. There seems to be an eternity of silence as Seungcheol simply stares at you as if he's debating whether your words are true or not. It's torturous, awfully agonizing and when you can't bear it anymore you're about to speak but he beats you to it.

"I didn't kill him." His voice is quiet. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Somewhere in the back of your mind you believed it, you believed he wouldn't be cruel enough to kill someone just like that and as soon as he speaks those words you believe him, without a doubt, without a second of delay.

"I believe you." You whisper, holding his gaze. "That asshole deserved what he got. He shouldn't even be alive but I let him go. He's in a hospital now, if you are wondering." You nod quietly. It's scary how much you believe him, how much you trust him even though he is pretty much a stranger.

There's a moment of silence as you bask in his presence before he speaks, "____, men like me, we aren't the nicest people. But we are needed, the cops need us around. People like me do the dirty works for people like you so y'all don't face troubles. We do things in an unconventional way but that's just who we are. We aren't as bad as the rumours say but we definitely aren't someone you should be with." You open your mouth to protest but his sharp gaze makes you stop. "If you have not understood it yet, let me say it out loud. I am trouble. People like me is always bad news. Whatever we did until now, I hope you forget. That's the best, ____ trust me. I think we both got what we wanted so let's call it a night." Just like that, he stands up, not waiting for your reply.

You gawk at him, baffled as he pays the bill and starts walking away. Tears burn the back of your eyes and you bite your lip to hold them back. The ending that you had expected has taken place but you are having a hard time accepting it. Your subconscious reminds you that you deliberately got yourself into this even though you saw this coming. So there is no one to blame for it but you. Grabbing your purse, you stomp your way out of the restaurant and towards Seungcheol's car.

Seungcheol barely acknowledges you as you both get in the car and he presses the key to the ignition. You are fuming in your seat, his words and the way he dismissed you cutting you deep. His words come to you, I think we both got what we wanted. You want to laugh. How can he possibly think that? Is he really so stupid or is he deliberately ignoring your interest in him? You want to smack his perfect face, curse and scream at him but all you can do is sit still with your arms crossed as steam comes out of your head. Is he really not curious about your feelings? Does he possess none for you? Does these few days with you mean nothing to him? You have so many unanswered questions. Leaning back into your seat, you close your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

It feels like in the blink of an eye the drive to your place is over as Seungcheol halts his car in front of your apartment. He does not utter a single word, doesn't even spare a glance at you while patiently waiting for you to get out of the car.

Asshole.

You inhale deeply, trying your best to gather yourself together as you take off your seatbelt and turn towards him.

"Seungcheol?" Few seconds pass before he looks at you. Words are stuck in your throat. When your eyes meet his, you become mute, overwhelmed with emotions as your words die in your tongue. He keeps staring at you, not opening his mouth but waiting for you to speak. "Is this goodbye?" Your voice breaks.

"I believe we don't have any reason to see each other. We both got what we wanted," He says without batting an eye. You're left bemused, one step away from landing a slap on his face. How dare he say that?

"Do you really believe that?" Your words come out as an accusation. "I wanted to go out with you because I thought I have feelings for you! And I do! And my feelings have only increased since I first saw you. I want to see you again, Seungcheol. You may have gotten what you wanted but I didn't." Your fades into a whisper as tears burn the back of your eyes.

Seungcheol stays quiet, staring ahead, his brows knitted as if he's annoyed. "I promised you three dates, ____. And I gave you that. It's over. Your feelings? You'll get over them. It's better to be in pain for a while that be with someone like me."

"You can't say that! I get to decide for myself!"

"____," he sighs, rubbing his temples. "I'm a bad man. You should leave while you still have a good image of me. You'll get hurt because of me and I've caused enough pain to enough people. Just...go. Just forget me." You stare at him as frustrated tears roll down your cheeks. He doesn't meet your gaze but turns his head the other way. You are angry, infuriated and heart broken all at a time. Clenching your fists you inhale a shaky breath before reaching for him.

Before you can chicken out, you tilt his face towards you and quickly press your lips against his. Seungcheol seems to be shocked as a small gasp leaves his mouth but you don't let him push you away. Instead one of your hands come to rest on his thigh as he other cups his face to keep his mouth against yours. You kiss him with all you have left, pouring in every bit of passion and love for him as your tongues intertwine. By the time you are both breathless, Seungcheol gently pushes you back and peers into your eyes. "That's all I can give you, ____." He says, his voice the softest you have heard. You are broken into a million pieces and as much as your heart wants to cling to him, you suddenly feel tired, deflated like a popped balloon. Your emotions have drained you out and left nothing and right now, breathing almost seems too painful for you. Taciturnly, you grab your purse and step out the convertible. You hear another door shut behind you but you don't look back as your heavy steps carry you to the entrance of your building. When you are about to enter your apartment, you accumulate all your strength and courage to spare one final glance at him.

Turning around you see Seungcheol standing by his car, hands in his pockets, simply watching you. Even though your eyes are locked on each other, you don't see any emotion in them. He looks like the same expressionless, mysterious man you saw the first day. The man you fell in love with. Taking in his gorgeous features one last time, you bite your lip and turn away, forcing yourself to walk inside your apartment building.

Your chapter with Seungcheol ends here.

Epilogue

A/N : Okay so idk why this fucking app is being like this but it says I reached the maximum of 250 blocks but I thought tum1r didn't have a word limit?? Anyway so I've decided to break it up and put the rest of the fic in another post. Please click epilogue to read that.

Taglist: @koo-18 @shiningstar-byulxx @pcisonedhaos @happyvitamin @yoongischeeksluv @haluim17 @nayam14 @horanghae-gumanhae @cottonsthings @hotcheetosnorter99 @peekabooseoksoon @acapellaanna @amixoferrthang

[noritoshiikamo]

priest!nanami kento x fallen angel!reader cw sacrilege, fucking on the communion table, manipulative behaviour, semi public fucking??, male & female receiving oral, spitting and exchanging fluid, unprotected sex

a part of my 3k milestone event request belongs to @cheolinn my beloved <3 i have no idea what im rambling but see yall in hell okay? happy belated bday nanamin

- playing god

you knew life as the priest’s wife is hard.

everyone absolutely adores father nanami. and with his adoration comes the annoyance of which you’re being scrutinized under the eyes of the neighbours.

“how’s she married to father nanami and not even attend his sunday’s preach?” you held your tongue, focusing on the canned foods you were comparing as the two women in front of you gossipped. tossing the can in the tray, you scoffed as you walked past them.

you didn’t miss the bitch they threw at you and you rationalised with yourself; is it really worthy to fight two old ladies in the canned food aisle?

nanami married you last year, after knowing for few months. he had never forced you to attend his church, but you do it occasionally out of respect for him. it did take a toll on your mortal body, unholy souls aren’t supposed to cross the threshold of a holy place. it rendered you completely bruised and weak which you blamed it on your fake trauma. nanami ate it up, never forcing you to come to the church anymore like the foolish human you expected.

funny how you were casted out of heaven only to fall in the arms of a priest. that’s a big fuck you from the big man as he made the man completely fallen head over heel for you. a corrupted angel marrying a priest sounds like another joke you tell your buddies over beers but it’s a sick punishment from god to you.

and you made it your whole motivation to corrupt his messenger.

you headed to the checkout counter, politely greeted by the lady behind the counter. you watched as the cashier rang up and bagged your items, a cart full of groceries for you both to last a week or two and she stated the total. as you expected, it is expensive. you smiled, you’ve done it so many times as you leaned against the counter.

“my, that’s a lot. are you sure? i think i only bought a bottle of snapple and a bag of apples.”

you feigned your shock, reciting two cheapest items from your trolley. you memorized it, it’s your little mind gag. like in trance, the cashier glanced at the trolley and widened her eyes, profusely apologizing for her mistake. you watched happily as the cashier started erasing the ‘wrong’ items off the machine until it was just the two items.

you happily obliged, placing the small changes ignoring the thick wad of money sitting in your purse courtesy of your husband. as the cashier handed the change, you shrugged, telling her to give you a pack of cigarettes in exchange of the few cents left. it was far from enough, but the cashier followed your order anyway, blinded by your charms, handling you the pack which you happily tucked in your purse.

“have a nice day!” you cheerfully waved, rolling your eyes once she was away from your vision.

humans are so easy to trick, especially when you’re in a position of power. and being the priest’s wife definitely gives you extra passes in helping your cause of corrupting the human. nanami wasn’t home as you walked in your house, hands full of groceries you didn’t have to pay, cigarettes hanging loose from your lips. he can do that later, you scoffed tossing the bags on the counter as you walked to the living room, with a bottle of wine kicking the heels off as you turned off the tv.

you don’t get humans and their obsession with numbing their mind. this grape concentration was nothing to you as you downed half of the bottle. you waited for your loving human to return home, as this was your one year anniversary. he told you to not do anything, he was going to take you out and spoil you for dinner but you had plans of your own.

you had planned it for so long. for casting you out of hell, you want god to pay for the mistakes he made. you know that a priest’s words in a community brings such a huge impact. you tested the water, started small by weeding out the one with a corrupted soul that would be an easy target.

they are the trash of the community, everyone’s secretly praying for them to disappear off the earth, no one would miss them. you made yourself their new god, sending them spiralling down into addictions, corrupting the loyals to commit adultery, breaking families apart. it was funny to see how quickly the church was losing their people, how most of them were never a good person as they claimed to be.

you spent so many nights comforting your husband when you were the reason for his demise. comforting him with sex was always the fun part; nanami was gentle as you expected but you knew there’s a feral side of him that he was hiding every time he’s balls deep in you. funny how you prayed for him to snap but he never did. no matter how much you begged for him to choke you, offered him other places he could explore, but he would turn it down. how his eyes were full of lust as he muttered how it was wrong to fall for the temptation of the devil.

but you are tired of the little games. you wanted to know if your husband is truly the man of god he is.

but god works in a different way. your phone vibrated, as you took the last drag of your cigarette, your eyes skimmed through the text. you have got to be kidding me, you threw the bottle on the floor. it shattered, just like your plans but you’ll improvise. you have no problem corrupting a man like him in the house of god. if anything, it only made your cunt tingled at the thoughts of ravishing the priest on the communion table.

i’m stuck at work, don’t wait up - n

you don’t need a car to travel, as you stood in front of the church. what’s some pain when you can finally have control, your heels clicked on the floor as you walked along the aisle to where your husband busied himself with a member of a church. “y/n,” you love the way your name rolled off his tongue as he spotted you, glasses hung on the bridge of his nose. he looked disheveled, exhausted. he explained to the member how it was their anniversary night, and that they were missing a dinner because of his busy work.

“please, you and your missus are welcome to my restaurant. as my apology for taking both of your times,” the man said, glancing both to you and father nanami. you took a seat, as both of them continued. you noticed the urgent glance from your husband to you as you loosened your coat, exposing more skin. you were bare underneath. you could smell his arousal, as expected.

it didn’t take long for him to cave. the man seemed to understand, telling that he’ll be here at the church tomorrow. you couldn’t hold yourself back from smiling, there’ll be no church here tomorrow for them to worship when you’re done with it. as the heavy door slammed shut you found yourself almost giddy in his arms, pressing him down on his chair.

“i miss you,” you cheered, batting your eyes as you toyed with his collars. your lips ghosted over his own, as your fingers ghosted over his throat you could feel the lump going down. “i miss you too. i’m sorry i get held back with the job,” his hand going up and down your side and you couldn’t help the shudders down your spine.

it’s odd how comforting it was for you to sit in his lap without feeling like your inside was burning. the collar came off so easily, as you loosened up his buttons. nanami grabbed your wrists, halting your movement. “we shouldn’t do it here, let’s go home,” he insisted, brushing you off his laps. but that’s not what you want. you didn’t miss the look of fear in his face when you yanked him, tossing him on the communion table. the papers scattered, candle holders clanking on the floor as you climbed on top of him.

“what’s wrong with you?”

you snickered, undoing your coat, bare except for the bra holding your breasts up, “i thought god loves offering?” you yanked his black shirt off, marveling on his pretty body trembling underneath your palm, “what better way to offer ourselves than in it’s purest form right, kento?” your tongue traced along his abs, legs straddling his waist as you pinned your hands beside his head. nanami’s eyes stared deeply into your bloodshot eyes, disbelieving in what he’s seeing.

“you’re not my wife.”

“i was never your wife from the start. i’m an angel, fallen out of grace,” you flipped your hair away, twisting your torso where a healed stub where your wings used to sit near your shoulder blade, “you can call me by any names, y/n, devil, angel, your wife,” your eyes sparkled with mischief as your nails dug deep in the flesh of his chest.

“it’s impossible, you can’t enter the house of god!”

nanami was hard to deal with, he’s quite stronger than you expected but not when your hand wrapped around his neck cutting off the air supply that made him still. you grimaced, laughter echoed in the large hall as you tightened your grip to his neck, “your god isn’t here. just you and me in this empty box.”

“what do you want?” he coughed out, hands clawing on your wrist. there is it, the question you’ve been waiting for. your husband, the man of god he claimed to be is now at mercy of you, a false god. you grinned, fangs flashing as you loosened your grip to his neck. you want what every woman; sex and domination.

he kissed you back, to your surprise. teeth clashing in urgency as you slip your tongue between his lips. you couldn’t help but to moan, grinding your hips slowly against his bulge. his touch left trail of heat along your bare skin. it touched your wing stub, a warning hiss escaped your lips but he deepened the kiss, pulling you tighter against him. “don’t do that,” you warned, grabbing a handful of his hair. he looked at you, lips red from where your fangs tore it and moist from the kiss before nodding lightly. he was blushing, fuck, he’s making it so hard for you to deal with it.

“i just want-”

you yanked his hair harder, “don’t.”

he nodded again, pulling his hand away from your back. his gentleness annoyed you as you straddled his chest, “open your mouth,” his brows furrowed in confusion but by the look on your face you’re not going to ask again. his tongue unfurled itself, and you happily spit in it where it mixed with his blood and saliva. “nu’uh, don’t swallow that,” you slipped your panties aside, before sitting yourself comfortably on his face. you didn’t have to say anything as his tongue buried itself in your soaking slit.

if there’s one thing you’re grateful about being in the human body, it’s the amount of pleasure you could receive. your eyes rolled back as he continued, tongue tracing in patterns before his lips formed an o around your clit. your loud moans echoed in the hall. “f-fucking hell, father, you prayed to god with that mouth?” you chuckled, grabbing your breast in your hands, flicking the neglected bud with your own fingers, “my, it’s certainly way better than spitting all that nonsense is it?”

you know he’s enjoying it as much as you were, feeling his soft moans and hums as he continued to lap you up. your sharp nails raked through his soft blonde hair, his eyes opened up instantly, glossy as he looked up to you. his arms snaked around your body, feeling your ass and around your waist, leaving grips that would bruise.

“come on, father, you’re not doing hard enough. put more enthusiasm in it, is that how you present your offering to god? half assed tonguing?”

you sneered, pressing your thighs tighter around his face. his chest heaved, out of breath suffocated by the lack of air with your pussy pressed to his face. you were impatient, especially as the knot in your belly started to twist. you found yourself meeting him halfway, rocking your hips, bumping your clit against his nose. his hand grabbing on your tit, nipples between two fingers, edging you closer and closer. nanami knew what he’s doing, you found yourself undone, creaming on his face.

“that’s it baby, lap it all up, not a drop."

your body shuddered in pleasure, as he continued through your high. you pulled away, jumping off the table. you hovered above him, a sly smile as you marvelled at the sight, with your cum and arousal soaking his chin and face. “you’re all messy, lemme help,” you tossed his glasses on the ground, cracking on impact as your tongue scooped up the mess. it was a lot, a mouthful as your tongue traced his lips before kissing him.

you could taste yourself and iron taste of where his cut was as you dumped the load down his mouth. you hummed, when he flinched, holding him down. he swallowed to your joy before you pulled away. circling around where you kneel between his legs. you didn’t bother pulling it off all the way, mouth wrapped around the tip. of all the cocks, his own still the one you adored the most, how it filled up your mouth so good. with no gag reflex, it’s easy for you to go all the way, eliciting pretty whines out of his lips.

“y/n, slowly,” he grunted, fingers grabbing a handful of your hair. but you’re no human, pain isn’t in your vocabulary, if any it only riled you up when he pulled on your hair. “come on, kento. i know you want to fuck my throat,” you teased, letting drops of saliva down on his cock, where your hand slowly jerked it. pulling him to the edge of the table, you guided his hand to the side of your head, tip resting on your tongue heavy. your brows jolted up, a silent invitation but he stared down on you, unable to move.

shrugging, you moved for his sake, bobbing your head up and down. he flinched and moaned every time your cheeks hollowed itself around his shaft. it didn’t take long for him to respond, tightening his grip to your head. finally, nanami started to loosen up, taking over your pace as he jerked his hips forward. he was free to ram deep in your throat, head tilted up so he could look down on you. he had to remind himself multiple of times that this wasn’t his wife, that it wasn’t you that he loved but as your throat restricted itself around his shaft, his faith on god dissipated.

your bloodshot eyes looked pretty and glossy looking up on him. your throat making all the squelching noise and with the pretty hue across the bridge of your nose and cheeks, he found himself thrusting harder.

whatever kind of test of faith this was, nanami was failing it as he threw his head back moaning.

“please,” his voice croaked, grip tightening on your hair, “close, close, close."

he was practically fucking your throat, and you were happy to be at the receiving hand. your nose buried in his musky happy trail as he held you down. you could feel the spurt of his release in the back of your throat. it took you by surprise, your human body gagged at the sudden release but he held you down. think of it as a revenge. he tasted good as you expected, humming at the taste on the base of his cock only made it twitched.

his grip to your hair loosened as he slumped back against the table. but you’re not done.

“what do you want?” nanami asked, chest heaving up and down as he gasped for air, “truly?”

you switched position, your back towards him as you bent yourself forwards, legs apart where he could see your glistening slit. “my endgame? i just wanna pissed off daddy upstairs,” you could feel his palm on your lower back, his cock slowly running along your wet slit. you braced yourself as his cock split you apart, eyes rolling backward as his cock buried deep in you. your arms around the back of his neck as his lips attached to your neck.

“but i can’t do it alone. i need you.”

nanami didn’t waste his time, pulling out and thrusting back in. the table you braced yourself on shook underneath you. his hands were all over you, palming your chest, gripping tightly on your waist. he was rougher than usual, his lips released a lewd pop as he let go of the skin of your neck, before lapping on another spot until your neck was full of his mark. the smell of his cologne and sex mingled the air, with every breath you took, blood was rushing to your face and ears so fast it made you lightheaded.

“right there, fuck,” you whined, lifting your leg on the table, spreading your legs wider. he grabbed your shoulder, breath down on your neck, pistoning faster. with every air knocked out of your chest he was losing himself further.

“come, join me, kento.”

he shook his head, your laughter ringing in his ear, shut up, shut up shut up, his mind screamed, hand wrapped around your throat. the pressure around your neck only made you moan harder, combined with his harsh, rapid thrusts, “shut it bitch.”

“aha, that’s more i like it.”

he pulled out, turning you around. he tossed your body on the table, your head landing with a thud as he pulled you by your legs. he’s not done yet, you grinned. you love him unhinged, desperately rutting deep in you. his tip scraping your inside beautifully, bruising your cervix. your arousal pooling down your ass and on the table and the sound of your skins echoing the large hall was a beautiful symphony.

you could feel your high again and he could see it too. thumb heavy on your clit circling around until you were panting like a bitch on heat. tongue out, eyes back, body glistening in sweat. “close,” you repeated, heels digging against the table.

your breath laboured as you met his dark eyes. he was enjoying this as much as you are. he does, the feeling of your wall convulsing around his length as you came again, it was hard for nanami to not come on the spot. with his rubbing, you were screaming, it was like you lost a hold of the body as you squirted out.

a soft fuck escaped his lips as more came gushing out. your walls tensing up, giving him a hard time to thrust in slowly.

your human body was weak, after the third orgasm you could feel it getting limp from the overstimulation. but he wasn’t done, not yet. his lips latched around your nipples, slow but deeper thrust. he growled when you clenched harder, teeth scraping against your nipple sent shivers down your spine. you didn’t realise you were moaning his name until he told you so.

“excuse me?” you spitted.

he grunted, eyes lidded as he looked deep in your eyes, “my name, say it like that.” his grip on your waist tightened as you laughed, refusing to cave in to his request. your hand reached to caress his chiseled cheek, soaked in sweat that was sticking his hair down. he let a soft gasp as your thumb glided against his dry lips.

“and why would i oblige to your petty request?”

“because by the time we are done, you’ll be worshipping me,” your pupils dilated in excitement, a smile dangling on the corner of your lips, pulling him close until you were sharing breath, “i’ll be your new god.”

you kissed him feverishly, swallowing each other’s moans as he picked up his pace. grabbing your legs, he pressed them down your chest, suffocating you as his pelvic slammed down against your ass. it was drowsy, the amount of ecstacy his cock brought upon you.

you were muttering gibberish, hands desperately grabbing the table for support. you asked for this, for your husband snapped out of his mind, you should be able to take it. but as tears pricked your bloodshot eyes, his tongue darting out to catch the salty droplet, you might have unleashed a different breed of monster.

“s’good, don’t you want to fill me up?” you pouted.

“so cocky for someone drooling for my cock,” he sneered, landing a slap on your cheek.

it took you by surprise, a good surprise as his fingers gagged you shut. it made a perfect gag around your little sweet noise. his thrust got sloppier as he desperately chased for his high. one free hand roughhousing your tits, he could feel your teeth clamping harsh on his fingers. but he didn’t care. nanami couldn’t think straight as all he could think was the build up tension down south he was desperate to release. he didn’t care of your whine or how your walls were fluttering again. he just wanted to cum inside you.

and he did.

forehead knitted in pleasure as he cummed in silent scream, face buried in the ample chest of yours as he gripped tightly on your hips. you could feel the bulge on your lower region where he pumped you full. you heaved together, struggling to catch a breath. but as you came down from your high, nanami flipped you on all four. white fluid gushed out of you as he ran his hand down from your back before landing a loud smack on your ass.

before you could open your mouth, he shoved his cock back in your gaping cunt. your hair in his tight grip as nanami tugged your head back.

you snarled, whining as he twisted your flailing arm back, gathered by the wrist by his hand, “what the fuck you think you’re doing?”

“oh, you think we are done?” his smile was twisted, “we are done when i said so, angel.”

looking in his blown out pupils, you realised that it was easy to twist a human soul apart. maybe he was a demon in disguise, hiding behind the soft smile and priesthood. but you couldn’t care anymore, not when he’s bringing heaven down on you with the way he’s fucking you.

© all content belongs to noritoshiikamo. do not modify or repost. join the taglist or buy me a ko-fi!

tagist: @booksweet @fushigurocockslut @lazy10ieiri @sassyeahhhh @cotton-curse @thevoidwriting @dukina @miss-ryomen @satosuguslut @duskamethyst @haikyutiehoe @ninefuckingoneone @honoredsatoru @levisnackermans @tweedledee49 @gojocumslut @hyp-oh-critical @ultgojo @liltals @yelzoldyck @cocotaku420 @poiseuns @fiona782 @fictionjunkies @bananaandbrans @ariesfic @cheolinn @nekoriots @nananamin-simp @heaven-s-door-diary @laraazoldyck @savantsoulfinder @sirthisisa-wendys @akarisroom