#but found the guy so incomprehensible that we stopped and i just started reading it out loud | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ponyregrets · 2 years

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Chash, have you ever thought of writing bellamy as a Unite content maker? I was watching this one guy from the US who makes Unite content (spragels, he's very good) and I noticed an alolan ninetines stuffed toy he had in the background and immediately thought of your galar au bellamy. this will now live in my mind rent-free

okay this isn't Bellamy streaming unite, but Spragels has been my work background noise for the last couple weeks so I have been thinking about streaming a lot. Bellamy definitely has an Alolan Ninetails on his screen. AO3 link!

Bellamy becomes a streamer entirely by accident. Before he started, he knew, in theory, that people did stream as a whole thing, another incomprehensible online career that he didn't understand the appeal of. He wasn't going to stop anyone else from enjoying it, but he never expects to be involved himself.

But, as with so many things he never expected to be involved in, he starts doing it because of his sister. She finished college and moved across the country because she thought she should be independent, which means she can't admit that she's missing him and feeling homesick and struggling. But after twenty-two years of dealing with Octavia, he knows how to read between the lines.

"What are you playing right now?" she asks, couple weeks into July. "I feel so out of touch with your dumb games when I can't watch you."

"We could still do that, right?" he asks, idly spinning his chair. "That's a thing. I could get it on the computer or something."

"Could you?" she asks, dubious. "That sounds pretty advanced."

Bellamy pauses. "Well, Raven would probably do it for me."

"If you want, I guess," she says, which is Octavia for I'd like that.

"Might as well ask. It's not as fun playing video games alone, anyway."

It's true, as a bonus. Bellamy started playing games on a used Nintendo 64 he found at Goodwill, which he told himself he was getting for Octavia as much as himself. By the time he got it, the system was old enough that he could find games cheap, or borrow them from his friends, and as those same friends upgraded to the newest and shiniest consoles, they were happy to pass along their older ones to him on the cheap. He'd said he was collecting them for Octavia, but as it turned out, his sister wasn't actually as good at video games as he was. At first, it was an age thing--Bellamy's six years older than she is, so of course he was more coordinated than she was when she was little--but even as she got older, she never really enjoyed playing the way he did.

If she hadn't loved watching him, he probably would have given up on the whole thing as an unnecessary indulgence, the kind of thing hobby that didn't do any good. But Octavia would ask him to play and settle in against his side, watching and backseat driving, and so he kept doing it.

And now, at twenty-eight, living on his own for the first time ever, making a decent enough salary that he can buy himself a few nice things, he figures it can't be that hard to make sure his sister can still tune into him playing games whenever she wants.

It's just that, once Raven makes him a Twitch account and teaches him how to use it, people other than Octavia start watching him.

"Why would they do that?" he demands.

"I don't know," Raven says, unimpressed. "It's your shitty stream. You set it up like I told you to?"

"Yeah."

"Then it's public and it's got the name of the game you're playing in it, so I guess people are searching for whatever you're playing and found you. It's not like you're bad at it."

He slants a wary look at her. "Were you one of them?"

"Dude, come on. Of course I subscribed to you. And I watched a couple, yeah. We should set it up so the viewers can hear your sister. You replying to her is cute, but it would be cuter if we knew what she was saying."

"You know I'm not going to go pro, right?"

"Why not?"

It's one of those impossible questions, which are kind of Raven's specialty. To Bellamy, it's a question that answers itself, an obvious thing. People don't actually become streamers, and the ones who do put a lot of work in, and he has better things to put effort into than becoming a big-name video-game streamer.

"I don't even know how it works," he says. "I'm just fooling around. Don't you have to be good?"

"You're not bad at games. And you're fun when you talk about them. I'm not saying you should quit your job and dedicate your whole life to it, but I know you love picking up cash where you can. If you're doing it anyway, why not see if you can get some popularity and subscribers?"

"What's your angle here?" he asks, frowning. "Why do you care?"

"Honestly? I just think it would be funny. You're like the least technologically proficient guy I know, I would love it if you got internet famous."

"I guess when you put it like that." He finishes his beer. "So, how do I become a famous streamer?"

He agrees to everything Raven suggests except for a camera, which he refuses mostly because his living arrangement is great in almost all ways, but a good setup for filming himself wasn't something he prioritized. The rent is cheap and his housemates range from unobjectionable to actually pretty cool, but the trade-off is personal space. He has his room, which is on the small side, and while he doesn't mind playing games there, a camera would pick up a lot more of his living space than he'd really like. He and Raven try it a few ways, but everything they set up is either insanely unflattering or shows off some part of his private space he'd rather keep private. His room has all his favorite things in it because he has nowhere else to store them, and he doesn't want to share them with the internet.

"Fine," Raven says, huffy but resigned. "But if you start taking off, we're going to figure this out."

It's one of those things that's easy to agree to mostly because he doesn't think he'll ever take off, but then Ground Zero comes out.

Initially, the game isn't on his radar at all. It's one of those team fight games that are popular right now, and Bellamy's always found them to be a bad fit for him mostly because he doesn't think he's good on a team. Or, rather, he always thinks he's good, but his teammates always seem to be bad, and the frustration tends to get the better of him. But he's also never really given them much of a chance. By the time he hears about them, everyone else already seems to be better than he is, and he just avoids it because he doesn't like losing.

But Octavia, like Raven, is invested in him becoming some kind of big-name streamer, and not only does she believe that streaming Ground Zero will get him a lot of views, she thinks the game looks cool and wants to see it. So, of course, he gets it, and it turns out he's actually kind of good.

"Don't get me wrong, I hate the idea here," he tells his two hundred or so viewers during his first stream. "Like, the concept sucks. But the gameplay is really fun."

"What's wrong with the concept?" Octavia asks.

"Are you asking or is the chat asking?" he asks. Her job on stream is to make fun of him and also read the chat while he's playing so he doesn't have to look away from his games, and she's very good at both.

"Everyone wants to know."

"Look, the designs are cool and they've got some interesting lore, but the basic story conflict is colonialism. You've got the technologically advanced space people coming down to Earth and trying to take land from the native population."

"Yeah, but the space people are still from Earth," Octavia points out. "Like, their space station died, they have to go somewhere."

"In theory, it's a complicated moral issue," he grants. "But the game doesn't really seem interested in grappling with it. They're just presenting it as two sides with equal claim to this random part of Earth who have decided violence is the only option."

"The backstory says diplomacy failed."

"The backstory doesn't say if there are other places the spacers could go. Like, they just landed in this place and decided they have to live here, specifically. Did they even try to find another location? The maps are all nice and green, it seems like there are plenty of resources to go around."

"Okay, this is getting boring. Colonization sucks, agreed, but let's talk about the good stuff in the game."

"There's a pretty good range of characters and playstyles, even at launch. I like that you're assigned randomly to the space or ground side for each match. You can play similar characters for each, like, if you're into ranged healing, you have options on both teams, but they play differently, so it's hard to really get into a rut playing just one character. It has the problem I always have with MOBAs, where everyone wants to be the hero and not enough people want to pick up supporter roles, but there's a lot of versatility in the moves you can select and the items you can scavenge, so even if you're a healer, you can still kick ass."

"Which is what you like to do."

"I don't think I'm a bad carry," he admits. "And if the team will let me be one, I like doing it. But it's nice that pretty much all of the characters have some flexibility. You're not locked out of carrying just because combat isn't your specialty."

"Moonboy420 in the chat wants to know if you ever want to throw the game when you're on the space side. Just to stick it to the colonizers."

He snorts. "No, but I do feel a lot less bad when my team loses if we're the spacers. Like, yeah, it sucks to lose rank, but we deserved it. And then you get people like this," he says, glaring at the screen. "The game's been going for less than two minutes and our medic is just running around in circles and spamming the ground is beautiful in the chat. That usually happens with players who really favor one side or the other and they're mad they have to play the side they don't like. Which, again, it's random, so if you're really attached to being spacer or grounder, this game isn't a good fit for you. You're just making it suck for everyone else."

"AnitaDarling says that she's played fifteen games and gotten assigned to grounder every time, so she's getting more and more nervous about being bad at the space characters. She wants to know if you'll put together some tutorials on how to play all the characters."

"Huh." He frowns. "Is that something people want? Guides? I usually just stream myself playing, but I could probably give it a shot."

People do want it, and he starts getting more attention, both for his own streaming and for his videos about how to play well. It's kind of a trip, watching his numbers tick up, the weirdest kind of ego stroke, but once he hits one thousand subscribers, Raven says, "You have to start showing your face."

"Why?" he asks. She's not physically present, but she called him and he picked up assuming it was important. He wouldn't have said that his branding was a good enough reason to use the phone, but he should probably start thinking it is. "I'm doing fine."

"Have you ever watched another streamer?"

"A couple." It's weird because as he starts to become known, other people want to do things with him. They want to team up and do streams together and he'd been meaning to ask Raven how to decide which ones to do, because his only idea was to let Octavia decide and he doesn't actually trust her. Mostly, he's been visiting their channels and trying to figure out if they're more popular than he is and what they're doing better.

"All of them are on camera, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"It's weird that you're not. People are going to wonder why you're not. It's not exactly a good way to get attention, unless you want to make your whole identity a mystery. Which I don't really recommend, because that just encourages people to try to figure out who you are. It's not the reason you want to stand out, you know?"

"Okay, so, what, you think I should move? I can't stream from somewhere I don't live, not without it being a pain. And I don't want to rearrange my entire bedroom for streaming. I'd have to rent a storage locker or something."

"You could ask Clarke."

He frowns. "Ask her what?"

"She's got a pretty big art studio in her apartment, I don't think she's using all of it. She might let you set up there. Worth asking, anyway."

"Huh. You think?"

Clarke exists in a weird place in Bellamy's life. She's technically their landlord, but it doesn't really feel that way, mostly because Bellamy has very bad associations with landlords, but Clarke is cool. Her dad died her senior year of college and she decided the best thing to do with the money he left her was investing in a house. She rented out most of the rooms to her friends on the cheap, and as people found other living arrangements or jobs, she brought in new tenants as needed. Raven ended up living there after she and Clarke found out they were fucking the same dude and both dumped him, and then when Raven moved in with Gina and Bellamy was looking to downsize after Octavia left, she gave him her room.

He likes Clarke, liked her even before he started living here, but she's not really part of the house in the way that he gathers she once was. None of the people living in the house are her original roommates anymore, and now she lives on her own on the second floor while everyone else is on the first floor with Murphy living in the basement like some weird gremlin. If someone else was moving out, he could potentially ask about getting their room for some extra rent, but he'd basically given up on finding anywhere in the house.

He sort of forgets that Clarke has all that space up there and probably isn't using all of it.

"The worst she can do is say no," Raven points out. "But she probably wouldn't mind."

"You really think it's that important?"

"The world deserves to see your pretty face."

"I guess when you put it like that." He sighs, glances at the clock. It's almost six; if Clarke agreed, he could maybe get set up and stream tonight. "You think she's home?"

"Probably."

"Cool, I'll ask her."

He doesn't really see Clarke very much thse days, and it's always a little weird when he does. Before he moved in, they'd met a few times socially, at parties and other outings, and he'd been idly thinking about trying to flirt with her after he found out she and her girlfriend broke up, but that seemed like a bad idea once he was paying her rent. He hasn't been avoiding her since then, really, but he thinks she might have noticed he wasn't hanging out with her as much at their various events.

Part of him hopes she noticed.

He goes up the stairs to her floor and knocks, hears an immediate, "Who is it?" back, all wariness. Clarke really is kind of awesome.

"Bellamy."

"One sec."

The door opens and the sight of her in flannel pajama pants and a low-cut tanktop is almost enough to make him change his mind about the whole streaming question. He's always put his best foot forward with Clarke, and he's somehow only now realizing that she doesn't know about his whole video game thing, and he has to tell her.

"What's up?" she prompts. "Everything okay? Bathroom flooded?"

"Oh, no, nothing bad." He rubs the back of his neck. "I actually had a favor to ask."

"Yeah?"

"Raven thought you might have some space I could use to film myself."

It seems like the best way to phrase it before it comes out of his mouth and especially before he sees the way Clarke's eyebrows shoot up. "Film yourself doing what, exactly?"

"Playing video games."

Her mouth twitches. "So you can check your technique?"

"No, it's not--" He rubs his face. "Raven set me up streaming video games for my sister and the two of them think it would be funny if I get really popular. And I guess if I want to be really popular, I need to show my face when I stream, and there's nowhere good for me to do it in my room, so I thought you might have somewhere I could use."

The smile she's been fighting off wins the battle. "So, what, they need to know you're a hot guy playing video games or it won't work?"

"All the popular streamers record themselves," he says, because it's not like he can confirm or deny that he's hot, or ask her to elaborate on her position. "It's good for the parasocial relationship, I guess."

She crosses her arms, leaning against the doorjamb. "And you're into that."

"If I'm going to do it, I might as well do it right. And everyone keeps telling me to do it."

"And Raven said I might have some space you could use."

"I'll pay rent for it," he offers. "Or while I'm using it, I guess? Fuck, I don't know. This is new for me."

"Come inside, Bellamy," she says, stepping into the apartment. "Have a seat. Stop stressing. What are you looking for here?"

He sits down on a chair in her living room, trying not to feel self-conscious. It's only a little bit weird. "Depends, I guess? Like, right now I usually just stream whenever I'm playing video games so my sister can watch if she wants. But I probably don't have to be on camera every time."

"So, what, you're imagining a couple times a week you drag a TV and recording studio up here and play video games for an hour?"

"I hadn't really gotten that far."

"It sort of sounds like what you're actually looking for is a place where you can set up all your gaming stuff and use it whenever you want for however long you want."

He winces. "It doesn't have to be that."

"But that's your best-case scenario."

Her expression is open and without any apparent annoyance, but Bellamy still feels like he's on dangerous ground. "If I had my own place with a couple of rooms, yeah, I'd probably want that. But I don't need that here."

"But if we could do that, you'd want it?" she asks, sounding thoughtful. "Like, if I gave you a key so you could come up whenever and just play your games up here, that would be the easiest thing, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." He's trying not to gape but it's not going great for him. "Is that an option?" he finally asks.

"It might be. I expanded one of the bedrooms into the closet to make a studio last year and it's honestly bigger than I need it to be? I think you could have, like, a corner"

"You really don't have to do that," he says immediately.

"Yeah, you weren't exactly holding me at gun point. It might be fun. Can I watch?"

"My stream?"

"Or you filming or whatever. I can be behind the scenes."

"If you want. I can pay a little extra in rent--"

"Bellamy," she says, cutting him off with a smile. "You don't have to. It's fine. Honestly, it's kind of lonely up here."

It's the first time it occurred to him she might gain something from this. And Raven probably already knew it. "Yeah?"

Her smile is a little wistful. "I like having more room for my stuff. But I definitely feel more like a landlord than a housemate these days."

"You could just invite us up to hang out," he points out. "You don't have to let me set up shop in a corner of your studio."

"But if I invite everyone up, Murphy might hang out," she shoots back. "I'm just saying, if this would help you out, I don't mind. And if it sucks, I'll tell you."

"Are you sure I can't pay you some extra rent?" he asks. It really sounds too good to be true.

"If you start making money streaming, I'll let you give me some," she says, and he smiles.

"Deal." She offers her hand and they shake on it. It feels a little mercenary to immediately "So, uh, when can I start?" but it is pretty much his biggest question.

Clarke shrugs. "Are you busy now?"

They go to check out the room first, just to make sure that it'll work for him, but it's not like he has a lot of requirements. There's enough space and outlets, and he can probably put up some decorations for visual interest.

Downstairs, they find Jasper hanging out on the couch and draft him into helping. Bellamy had been sort of absently worried that some of his housemates might be jealous or upset about his getting some extra space, but Jasper just wants all the information he can get on Bellamy's Twitch career.

So everyone is going to know. It's fine.

Clarke helps him set up, mostly by critiquing his background for not being fun enough, and she ends up going into her room and grabbing some Pokémon stuff for him to display.

"I don't really do Pokémon streams," he points out.

"You need to have some visual interest. You can use them until you get some stuff from your games."

"Thanks," he says, and immediately regrets the sarcasm. "But really, thanks. I really appreciate it. I don't know if I'm actually going to stick with this streaming stuff, but it's nice to have the option."

"No problem. It's cool if you see me sometimes, right? Or do I need to avoid being on camera?"

"It's fine," he says. "No big deal."

He doesn't stream that night, but he records four instructional videos he'll be able to upload over the next few days, and it is kind of nice, seeing himself on screen. He's always expressive when he talks, and having those smiles, his eye rolls and exasperation captured on camera is kind of nice. He watches the first video to make sure everything came out okay before he posts it, but he's not worried. He knows they all came out great.

Even Clarke's Pokémon add something.

She's in the background of the third video, which he notices when he's prepping it to post two days later, but he doesn't really think much of it. All his audience is going to learn from that is that he lives with a blonde woman who wanders behind him sometimes with a paint brush.

"Everyone wants to know who the girl is," Octavia tells him within half an hour of the video going live. "I feel like you should probably tell them soon but all the speculation might be getting you hits."

"They care?"

"Maybe the parasocial relationship is better if they think you aren't an awkward nerd whose last girlfriend is now dating his tech support. Or at least think you're an awkward nerd who landed a hot blonde girlfriend."

"I could land a hot blonde girlfriend," he grumbles.

"Uh huh. Are you gonna stream tomorrow?"

"That's the plan."

"Maybe just open with an introduction for her. Landlord, right?"

"Housemate," he says. "I don't think the chat likes landlords."

"And you want them to like her?"

"I like her. I don't want the chat to spam fuck landlords or something whenever she shows up."

"Yeah, that would suck. You can put it off if you want to," she adds. "I don't care. But if the chat asks about it, I'll relay their questions."

"Cool," he says, and texts Clarke as soon as he hangs up.

In theory, he's allowed to just unlock the door and go upstairs to stream whenever he wants, but it doesn't feel like that yet. So he asks if he can come up, and Clarke says he doesn't have to ask, and he still knocks on the door before he opens it.

She's sitting on the couch with a sketchbook. "At what point do you stop being polite?"

He takes a chair across from her. "No idea, but it hasn't even been a week."

"True. I thought you weren't streaming tonight?"

"I'm not, but apparently my followers are already asking about you, so I thought I'd let you know."

"Mostly who you are and what you're doing in the background of your videos, I guess. My sister does most of the comment monitoring for me, she said you got a lot of attention."

It's true, but not the whole truth. Bellamy actually did go and check the Clarke comments and about 90% of them were omg bell has a girlfriend, which seemed like a pretty big assumption. He wishes he wasn't into her just to prove them wrong, but less than a week of interaction has reminded him that he's still pretty into her.

She perks up, of course. "Yeah?"

"I thought you might want to drop by a stream on purpose," he offers. "Just walk by and I can call you over for an introduction. Or I can just explain you. Your call."

"Explain me?"

"Housemate."

"Not much of an explanation."

"I figured you might not want to give your life story to my random Twitch followers."

"I'm not very good at video games," she says, which feels like a total non sequitur until she adds, "Could you teach me?"

"On stream?"

She shrugs. "Unless you think it would be bad content."

"That would probably be great," he admits. "I'm working on a series of how to play characters, but I thought I could probably go more basic for, like, total beginners. The basics of playing. We could do them together."

She looks so pleased it makes his chest ache. "Really?"

"I make a video, you test it out, and then we do a debrief. What helped, what didn't, stuff like that. I'm kind of new to the instructional videos, maybe I suck at it."

"We can cover the basics off camera," he says. "And if you hate it, we don't have to do it."

"Well, what are you doing now?""

He has things he should be doing, of course. Streaming isn't his whole life. He has a regular job, and even if he's done for the day, he has laundry and chores. He tries to limit his video-gaming to a few nights a week, just so it doesn't consume him, but this is video games with Clarke. And if he leaves now, he'll go downstairs and sit in his room trying to read and thinking about how he could be with her instead.

"Not even a little."

She has such a pretty smile. "I did watch a couple of your videos."

"Yeah?"

"The intro ones. But I don't have a gaming system, so I couldn't try it out."

"If I'm not using my stuff up here, you can always try it out. We'll just make you your own profile."

He gets her set up on his PS5 and she makes an account for Ground Zero and finishes the tutorial without any major issues. The controls are pretty standard to Bellamy, what he would expect after years of playing games, but Clarke takes a little while to identify some of the buttons and get herself doing things correctly. Still, she manages to pick up items, use them as weapons, and heal some people, so she has the basics down.

"We might as well start filming, right?" she asks.

"Why?"

"If it's good, you'd rather post it," she points out, not unreasonably. "And if it sucks, you just don't."

"When you put it like that," he says, and turns the camera on. Clarke brought her chair in from her desk, so they have to do a little repositioning, making sure both of them are in frame and visible, but once that's done, he thinks it's kind of nice. Not as lonely. "Hey, everyone," he says, with the wave he hasn't talked himself out of doing yet. "Bell here. And I've got my housemate, Clarke."

She waves too. "Hi."

"I had some people wondering about her in my last couple videos and it's actually thanks to her I'm doing these at all because I had nowhere good to film and she's letting me use her studio. So everyone in the comments say thank you, Clarke."

"You don't have to do that."

"You do," says Bellamy. "It's not optional. Anyway, Clarke's never really been much of a gamer, but she wanted to try it out. So we're going to find out how good I really am at helping total newbies figure out what to do and whether or not you should listen to me. This is the test."

"What if I'm a prodigy?" Clarke asks. "Then you get credit for my natural talent."

"I'm fine with that. She did the tutorial off camera because I don't think anyone thinks the tutorial is interesting. If she is a prodigy, I couldn't tell from that."

"Ouch."

"You didn't know which joystick you used to move."

"There are like five different things that look like they could control which direction I move on this controller," she shoots back. "I don't think that's on me."

"Yeah, there's a lot of stuff you get used to, playing games a lot," he grants. "It's easy to forget." Something occurs to him, and he frowns. "If you don't play video games, why do you have all these Pokémon? She made me add Pokémon," he tells the camera, although he thinks he might cut this. If nothing else, he doesn't really want Octavia knowing he let Clarke decorate his streaming space. "So you can also thank her for the visual interest."

"My best friend and I really liked the anime and the cards. My parents didn't approve of video games, but they were okay with those. So he and I would get each other Pokémon stuff, and then my relatives realized I liked Pokémon, and I still have a bunch of aunts and uncles who give me Pokémon stuff if we see each other for holidays because they don't know anything about me. And I like Pokémon Go," she adds, a little defiant.

"Well, at least you appreciate the relatives' presents. How are you feeling about doing a game?"

She worries her lip. "I assume it'll match me with other new players?"

"That's the idea. The matchmaking is kind of hit or miss once you get to higher levels, but when you're just starting, they'll either match you with other new players or bots."

"Bots?"

"AI players. They're really dumb, but you can usually beat them."

She shoots a dubious look in his direction. "Usually?"

"Sometimes they're so stupid they sabotage the game. I had one where we would have won if the bots just helped me seize an objective, but they were fighting the other team instead and we lost."

"You're really getting me excited to play this more."

"It was your idea. So, any idea about what kind of character you want to play?"

She shifts a little, shaking out her shoulders. "I watched a couple of your videos."

"Really?" Hopefully he's not visibly swelling with pride. "Why?"

"I was curious. I wanted to see what you were doing in my studio."

"So, what did you learn?"

"I don't think I'd be good at melee fighters. You said the important thing for them was mastering the combo attacks, and that doesn't sound like something I'd be great at. But hiding in the bushes sniping people and doing first aid sounds like a pretty good fit for me."

"Okay, cool. You can do that whichever team you're on, and it always helps your allies."

"I know. Like I said, I watched your videos."

"Okay, you're the expert," he says, holding up his hands. "I won't say anything."

"I didn't say that. You focused a lot on what items and skills to pick but not, like, basics. Where should I be, what should I be doing?"

"Okay," he says, smiling. "Basic of the basics. First, start the match. Then we'll know who you are and what you want to do."

The video with Clarke does well, and of course, Octavia can't shut up about it.

"The chat totally ships you two."

"I don't know what that means."

"Yeah, you do."

"Well, I wish I didn't."

"She's cute. You could do a lot worse."

"I pay her rent."

"So? That means she's rich and she could support you while you try to go pro streaming. I'm not seeing a downside here."

He rubs his face. "Thanks, O. That's really helping."

"She probably wouldn't want to be on your dumb stream if she didn't like you. Like, come on. That's pretty unambiguous."

"Maybe she wants to learn to play video games."

"Uh huh. When you get together, I'm going to say I told you so."

"I hope you will," he says, and goes to read the comments. He might be a little pathetic.

Clarke isn't always on his stream. She has her own life and hobbies, and between her art and her real job and having some kind of social life, she doesn't have that much time for video games. Whenever she plays, it's with him, and they usually film it and he'll cobble the best of and most interesting moments into a weekly feature that his followers seem to love. Every time she walks by when he's streaming, the chat explodes with non-stop CLARKE spam, which, to be fair, is also how he feels when he sees her.

"I can't just ask her out, right?" he asks Miller, a month later.

"Apparently not. I assume if you could, you would have. Is it like a medical condition?"

Bellamy scowls at him. "Dude."

"What? You ask her out. If she says no, it sucks and you get over it. If she says yes, you go out with her. Just get it over with."

"She might stop wanting to hang out with me."

"I'd be more worried about breaking up."

Bellamy groans and drops his head onto the coffee table. "Please don't give me more things to worry about."

"Yeah, I guess you don't need the help." He pauses. "What's your nightmare scenario here, exactly?"

Bellamy thinks it over. "Worst case is, I guess, she kicks me out, I have to find a new place to live, the rent is more expensive and my finances get a lot worse. Bankruptcy, homelessness, dying in a ditch somewhere."

"Okay," says Miller. "Odds on that?"

He smiles. "Obviously that's not going to happen."

"Cool, glad that's out of the way. What's the realistic bad case?"

"I feel weird around her and I don't want to hang out anymore. I stop streaming from her place and my weird Twitch followers ask me why. It's awkward for a while."

"Yeah," Miller agrees. "Sounds realistic."

Bellamy scowls at him. "That's it?"

"I think that's probably the worst thing that might actually happen. Do you actually care if you have to stop streaming? I still can't tell how invested you are in the whole thing."

It's a valid question. "You know I've got an ego," he points out. "I like being popular. And I like being good at a game. And if I'm going to be good at it, I might as well be good in public and help other people? Raven is doing stuff to work the algorithms and stuff, I'm getting more followers by the day. I still don't think it's going to be my job or anything, but yeah, I like it. I don't want to stop."

"So, would you?"

"Would I stop?"

"Yeah."

"I probably wouldn't, you know, stream from her place."

"If she said she didn't want to date you?"

Put like that, it does seem like kind of an overreaction. "If she wasn't comfortable with it. And I'd worry she wouldn't say if she was uncomfortable."

"If Jasper asked you out, would you stop talking to him?"

"No."

"Okay then."

Bellamy smiles faintly. "Trying to logic me out of it, huh?"

"Or into it. Look,the longer you wait, the harder it is to make a move. Right? If you'd just done this before you moved into her place, we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

"But I might be paying way more for rent." He sighs. "I could ask if she wants to get dinner, I guess. Low pressure, just checking."

"Worst-case scenario, she says no. And if you're normal about it, she'll be normal about it."

"The older I get, the more I think those do you like me y/n notes were a good idea. Indirect, no confrontation, and if it's no, we never mention it again."

"Or you could just talk to the girl you like, like an adult."

Bellamy has to smile. "Or that, yeah."

He's still planning to wait a couple days. It's partially cowardice, obviously, but his justification is that they're filming a joint videos the next day, and if he waits to talk to her until after that they'll have a couple days before they see each other again, which should be enough time to work through any awkwardness.

He's also chickenshit, but he's got a timeline. There's a plan.

And then, when he goes up to film, Clarke opens the door and asks, "Want to make out?"

"Um," he says, trying not to gape. "What?"

"I just thought I should check. I thought you probably did."

He recovers enough to say, "I do, yeah. I was going to ask you to get dinner."

She laughs. "You should see your face."

"Sorry. I just wasn't really expecting that."

"You were going to ask me to dinner, but you didn't think I wanted to make out?"

"Well, I wasn't sure you were going to say yes," he says, and leans down to kiss her before she can respond. Her hands tangle in his hair almost as once, like maybe she's been thinking about how much she wants them there, and Bellamy tugs her in by the hips, pulling her flush against him.

"I was going to say yes," she murmurs between kisses, making him smile.

"Cool, I still want to get dinner."

She pulls back to look at him. "I did think you were going to ask me out," she says, half-accusatory. "Like six months ago."

"I thought it might be weird once I moved in."

She groans. "I told Raven! She was like, he'll be living with you, you can hook up! And I said it would make things weird."

He's not laughing at her, but he can't help laughing. "Did Raven tell me to stream video games from your studio to try to set us up?"

"Yeah, absolutely. And I didn't think it would work, so she's going to be really smug."

"Me streaming isn't actually a turn-on, is it?" he asks, mostly out of curiosity.

"You didn't really need the help, but it's cute. And," she looks away, smiling as she bites her lip, "you should see your face when you look at me."

"When I look at you?"

"I wasn't sure you were interested, but Raven said I should watch when I show up on the streams. Your sister tells you I'm around and your whole face lights up."

Color rushes up his neck, but he's pretty sure he's lighting up right now. "Yeah," he says. "Of course I do."

She's smiling at him now. "That's why I thought you'd want to make out."

They don't end up recording anything that night, which Bellamy doesn't mind at all, and Octavia does tell him she told him so, which, as promised, he minds even less. He kind of owes her. The streaming thing is working out pretty great for him, after all.

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silversatoru · 3 years

Text

play-thing — part one

gojo satoru x getou suguru x f!reader

t/w: nsfw 18+, dark content, drugging, manipulation, noncon/dubcon, oral (f!receiving), nipple play, this story contains very dark themes so please do not read it you’re sensitive to any of these topics

synopsis: suguru and satoru are missing something in their lives, and who better to manipulate than an lonely, impressionable girl who just moved to tokyo from another city. they’re willing to take extreme measures to transform you into their perfectly submissive little play-thing.

wc: 1.9k

suguru and satoru do everything together; live in the same house, work at the same company, even share a closet of the most expensive clothes, but something was missing. they both felt it, the empty space between them, and they were determined to find the perfect piece to fill the gaping hole in their lives.

and you practically fell right into the palm of their hands, in a local grocery store of all places. a pretty little thing with a freshly broken heart who’d just moved here from a neighboring city. no friends, no family nearby, anxious and impressionable and desperately in need of a couple capable men to show her around. it all started with an innocent question: “hey, sorry to bother you guys, but could you tell me where the baking aisle is?”

how you ended up here you still weren't quite sure.

“let us take you on a tour of the city tonight,” satoru had cooed at you.

“there’s a few really nice bars, we could grab some drinks,” suguru added, both their voices smooth and terrifyingly persuasive.

but they seemed nice enough, and you weren't in any position to be picky with making friends right now — after all, you’d have to get accustomed to the city somehow, right?

wear something pretty, satoru had winked at you before you parted ways and continued your shopping, and for some reason you were very inclined to do as he said. they were both intimidatingly attractive and you weren’t exactly sure what their dynamic was yet, but you decided that if you ended up in bed with one of them tonight, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

you’d chosen a short and silky black dress, something elegant but classic that would absolutely catch the eyes of both men. and it did, satoru’s eyes glazing over your body several times before he even bothered to say hello to you. suguru was less obvious, his dark eyes giving you a quick once-over before giving you a warm smile and wrapping his arm around your shoulders as the three of you entered the first bar.

it was small, dimly lit with a few lanterns and packed tight with people. a little too crowded for your level of comfort, so you stuck closely to the sides of suguru and satoru as they led you deeper into the pub. the dark-haired male gestured towards an empty seat at the end of the countertop, the two of them standing on either side of you after you slid into it. satoru spoke with an impressive level of charisma, ordering three of the same drink from the bartender — who he seemed to know quite well.

taking a few sips of the liquor did wonders for you initial anxiety, and the casual conversation with both men was helping you to settle in as well.

so, where are you from?

what made you want to move to tokyo?

what do you do for a living?

you were painfully oblivious to how the conversation stayed entirely centered around you; you still hadn’t learned anything about the two men, but they were learning everything about you.

an hour or so in, a warm dizziness began to swirl around the inside of your head, slowly exacerbating until you felt like you were about to tumble out of your seat. you’d only had a couple drinks, and you normally handled your alcohol fairly well, so why did you feel absolutely sloshed right now?

“guys, i think maybe-” you turned towards your two tour guides and crashed forward into suguru’s chest without warning.

“think you went a little heavy, toru?” he scooped his hands under your plump ass and lifted your unconscious body into his muscularly arms.

“not my fault she has no tolerance,” satoru shrugged, throwing some cash on the counter, “might be easier with her like this anyway”.

“i suppose,” suguru clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “stupid girl, didn’t your parents teach you not to trust strangers so easily?”

the two of them casually made their way out of the bar together, making jokes about how poorly you handle your liquor to anyone who gave them a questionable look — but the bar was so loud and jam-packed with people that they made it out without any incident.

you were slow to come out of your sleepy haze, head nodding up and down as you struggled to maintain consciousness and take in the scenery around you. in a futile attempt to brush some hair out of your face you realized your hands were tightly secured behind your back. panic immediately flooded your system, chest tightening and hot tears brimming at the edges of your eyes.

“just a precaution, angel,” suguru came walking into your hazy vision, a warm smile on his face as he tucked the loose strands of hair behind your ears, “how are you feeling?”

“wha-, whaaat happen- ed?” your words were garbled, your brain barely able to form them.

“don’t worry about it,” satoru appeared next to suguru, “you just drank a little too much, but we’ll take good care of you, won’t we suguru?”

“of course, no need for you to worry about anything anymore,” he gave an affirmative nod.

“i don’t think-” you wracked your brain for any recollection of what had happened tonight, but you found nothing, “i don’t th- think i — understand”.

“you will soon,” satoru flashed a bright smile, but it wasn’t nearly as inviting as the first time you saw it. this time it was eerie, evil, threatening — what exactly was he talking about?

your brain was quickly turning to absolute mush, your vision getting darker and foggier than it already was as you tried to hang on to the sound of their voices.

just relax

we’re gonna make you feel good, you wanna feel good, princess?

you want us to make you feel better?

“mhm,” you gave them a slow nod. you did want them to make you feel better! you felt groggy and confused and nauseas! so of course you said yes! that is what they were asking? right?

you felt the bed shift around you, several hands tracing over your skin and gently pushing you onto your back. you tried to question them, tried to form the words, but your brain was unable to produce a single word or movement at this point.

a hot tongue connected with the side of your neck, lips latched onto the skin and sucking gently on the sensitive area. another mouth was on your inner thigh, sucking a little harder and undoubtedly leaving a small marking. you subconsciously let out a squeaky, shaky breath, the warmth of their tongues eliciting a response in your doped-up body.

goosebumps raked through your body when you felt a pair of slender fingers slip under your dress and brush over the thin material of your panties. it was satoru, his middle and index fingers prodding at your clothed cunt and sending jolts through your legs. meanwhile suguru continued to cover your neck in sloppy kisses, one of his large hands groping at your covered breasts.

your brain had gone numb, from the drugs, the confusion, the terribly intoxicating pleasure. you hated how clueless you were, how useless your body was right now, but what you hated most of all was that you weren’t even trying to fight back. their touch felt good — too good for you to ask them to stop.

it wasn’t long before satoru’s fingers were replaced with his mouth, his tongue running up and down the fold in your panties and absolutely soaking the material with his saliva. he groaned from the taste, getting just as much pleasure from this as you were. he was quick to push the fabric to the side, sliding his tongue against your sticky folds with hunger and urgency. he lapped at your cunt, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue and evoking a series of twitches from your lazy body.

“be gentle with her” suguru’s voice sounded far off in the distance as he mumbled into your chest.

satoru heeded to the other man’s instructions, slowing his pace and going more gentle on your sensitive, puffy clit. suguru found your hardened nipples through your thin dress, rolling them in his fingers and enhancing the already blissful feeling you were getting from satoru’s tongue.

the two of them working together was incomprehensibly euphoric, your stomach coiling into tight knots with each swipe of his tongue. without warning he dove even deeper, his tongue shooting into your cunt while his nose rubbed against your throbbing bundle of nerves. between that and suguru giving your nipples a sudden tug, your body was crashing with waves of pleasure — strangled moans and pitiful whimpers the only sounds that your mouth could produce.

it was a near-holy experience, the feeling of the sedatives pumping through your veins as satoru tongued your pussy and suguru massaged your breasts through your heightened orgasm. you felt like you were floating, the room was spinning, and then everything went dark.

a real shame that you wouldn’t be able to remember any of it by the time you woke up.

bright sunlight pierced through your eyelids the following morning, forcing you awake and causing you to jolt up. you were laying in a large bed that was situated at the back of a rather large room, fitted silk sheets cool under your skin. confused of what happened and where you were, you stood from the bed and made your way to the door, feet patting on the soft carpeted floor.

when you opened the door you entered a long hallway that led to a wide stairway covered in the same fluffy carpeting. two voices were laughing and talking beneath you, and curiosity fueled your motivation to walk down the stairs and into an open-concept kitchen and living room.

satoru and suguru, the two men from yesterday were busy at the stove, pancakes and bacon sizzling away on two cast-iron pans. they wore matching aprons, suguru’s reading chef daddy, and satoru’s reading mr. good-lookin’ is cookin’.

who the fuck were these guys?

“feeling better?” suguru was the first to notice you loitering at the edge of the room.

“yeah, how are you? didn’t picture you to be such a heavy drinker,” satoru laughed, flipping a pancake with grace.

you didn’t remember much, nothing past sitting down at the bar with them. you weren’t much for getting wasted but you were plagued with more stress than usual lately — maybe you really let yourself go last night.

“ah, sorry about that, I don’t even remember what i did, honestly,” you shrugged, “thanks for looking out for me though, where’s my stuff?”

“in a hurry to leave? stay for breakfast,” suguru brushed off your question with a captivating smile, his eyes squinting together in the most adorable way.

“we insist,” satoru chimed in, humming as he continued to focus on the sweet-smelling food.

and so you stayed, which was probably the worst mistake that you’d made in the past twenty-four hours of countless terrible mistakes.

part one | part two

a/n: im on a yandere/dark content kick today i cant help it. anyway if u wanna be tagged when i post part two lemme know :) and if u want some yandere megumi go read @katslutski ‘s tell me

(ily kat <33 so happy to have someone to get into very specific obsessions with)

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zuffer-weird-girl · 3 years

Note

I remember reading the Belly dancer s/o of Kai and was hoping… could we have a secret belly dancer s/o of Dabi and Hawks? And maybe if possibly Shigaraki too?

This fucking asshole.

As soon at the start of your relation ship of he gets to know this he is flustered and just mumbles something incomprehensible while the health skin of his turn a light shade of pink.

If not this mf whistles while checking out your outfit and your body while you dance.

Does 👏 not 👏 care 👏 about the bad looks he get from you or others.

Dabi will ask or bargain with you to do a proper and personal show only for him.

What? Can you blame a man for getting aroused with his girlfriend? Nah you cant .

OH GOD IF THIS GUY SEES ANOTHER MAN OGLING YOU UP HE IS GONNA BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM AND THEN BURN TO CRISPS.

Don't tell you though.

Resume: proud and horny boyfriend.

👆 is him on the middle of your classes.

You get pissed off that your colleagues and even your teachers go to him almost drooling on your boyfriend but he let's everyone very clear he is only here for his girlfriend.

Although when alone? Ohohoho.

Flustered.

Yet still smiles proudly because he knows is something you like to do and he cant express how much love and proud he is skiwbeixieneid he is so sweet about it yet cocky.

Hee likes to see you in red because it matches his wings so he grows absolutely red and feathers puff at seing you dancing on a outfit all red.

Happy birdman.

Wont hesitate to punch someone who is cat calling you.

His dove, no one else. If someone dares to even say a peak about you on the wrong way they will be found at the hospital.

Laughes at seeing Tokayami absolutely embarrased at the sign of you on your belly dancing outfit while entering his office.

You apologize to the kid numbers of time while Keigo muffled his laughter by his jacket.

Ah, first time writing for this man and it will be absolutely garbage

So.

To put it simply. Tomura is most used at seeing those things on video games and only 2D characters, so at first when you told him about it he didn't seem fazed enough or if he even cared about it.

But as soon as he sees you he is like a mixture of the angry and embarrassed.

Blood rushes to his face so fast that you were afraid he might ended up fainted while playing outlast.

Shigaraki Tomura aka Tenko has stopped working.

Flustered because you look good and are using the outfit of his favorite color and angry because she cant comprehend why is he like this?!?!

Doesn't let you go to class at first because he is jealous and possessive and ended up on a fight with you.

Goes to your classes and immediately regrets because ehe feels overwhelmed while seeing you dancing.

Some bastard came to you and started to flirt but then you told him you had a boyfriend with an annoyed expression and when the man came Shigaraki just grabbed his wrist with only his middle finger raised up as he stared creepily at the brute.

"Trash like you should be turned into dust. If you can't comprehend when my player two says no." He put his finger down watching with a smile the man scream in agony "Then you're more useful for the janitor cleaning this place".

Yeah... you cant go to classes after that time... and only took online ones.

You stay mad at him for a bit but hey? He defended you and blushes cutely everytime you dance near his gaming chair.

Is a win-win situation

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tenko x reader #bnha villains x reader #bnha heroes x reader #zuffer writings

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kirishoshego · 3 years

Text

Come Kitty, Kitty//Shinso

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

This is my part of the amazing "Hybrids" collaboration hosted by @ultimate-astridwriting, thank you again for letting me participate, this was definitely exciting x pairing: kitten!fem!readerxShinso (college!au)//words:3.3k+

Summary: You knew pushing Shinsou's buttons would end in a punishment, which was exactly what you craved (featuring after care)

TW: BDSM, dom and sub (calling him sir, him calling you kitten and at one point pet), choking, rope play, spanking, overstimulation, squirting, anal play (at the end), oral (both receiving), face fucking, degration (mixed with name calling), praise, unprotected sex, sending nudes and the reader wearing a collar Shinsou didn't plan on going to meet up with the group, Bakugou dragged him along with him, ranting about how if he had to go to Jiro's chill night he had to come too. It was an unusual group, really, but they, Shoto and Tokoyami shared the same taste in music. From that on the five became something along the lines of friends, even if Shinsou didn't want anything to do with it, he couldn't deny the fact he didn't hate having them around him, and having someone to study while in college had its perks.

When he explained he didn't feel like being there anymore they didn't try to make him stay, they understood he needed some alone time and told him to text them if he's back in his dorm and bit their goodbye. The sun wasn't down completely yet, it still engulfed the city in its warm colors, people passing him by on their way home or to a date, while he was slurping on his Boba Tea, grumbling about their happy go lucky energy.

That was until he saw you, sitting on a branch of a cherry blossom tree, yelling at three guys below you, who despairingly tried to grab your fluffy tail to drag you down. "I said fuck off you assholes!" one of them got too close for your liking causing you to hiss at them, revealing your sharp fangs, tail whipping from left to right. "Don't be such a little buzzkill now sweet cheeks, we just wanna show you a good time, we know how to take care of such a small thing," all of them laughed, jumping up again and this time being lucky in catching your tail, only to also catch your claws seconds later. "You fucking-" before he could say whatever angry insult was laying on his tongue a scarf was wrapped around him, pulling him back so he fell onto his ass in a small puddle.

"She said to leave her alone, so fuck off," he apparently caught their leader, the others now quickly trying to help him up and scramble off, mumbling insults which quickly died down when their opponent's eyes started glowing. "I could have done that myself," you told him, fixing your shirt as you sat upon the branch, feet dangling down, ears pulled back. "I'm not helpless just because I'm a cat, you know?" it amused him to watch you struggle as you tried to find a way back to the ground. He only raised an eyebrow, his gaze going from you to the floor and turning his back towards you. "Have fun getting down there yourself then," he walked away, your pleads seemingly fallen to deaf ears, but Shinsou could hear you just fine, a small smirk on his lips.

"Sir, please help me down. I'm sorry, thank you for defending me," the defeat in your voice was one thing, but switching from Mister to Sir made his head snap up from his phone's black screen. But before he could react in time he heard a loud thud and a whine.

It's not your problem, she's just a stranger, he thought to himself, but his body reacted sooner than his brain could, and Shinsou found himself carrying you to the nearest hospital, which conveniently was only two blocks away. Ever since then you were basically his shadow, nobody really took care of you, and growing up with Aizawa apparently made Shinsou also adapt his father's need to take in strays.

According to you, Shinsou didn't pay enough attention to you the last couple of days. You knew he had those days, too stressed out from university or hero work. His biggest desire at that moment is to simply have you in his lap while he was playing some games or cuddle up to you while watching a movie, the soft purrs emitting your curled-up body helping him heal from whatever had him worried in the late evening hours.

However, you were craving him, needed him. Every fiber in your body was screaming his name, begging for his touch, wanton for him to be balls deep inside your dripping little cunt. So you planned everything out, starting with sending him cute little pictures of you. Innocent and cute, wearing nothing but one of his big t-shirts, hair messy, forming a seeming halo between your perked up ears, tail wrapped around as you kneeled in front of the tall mirror. But then, oh no, what a pity, you spilled milk all over you when all you wanted was to prepare your breakfast. Your front camera perfectly captured the soaked material clinging to your shape, revealing your hardening nipples and soft mounds he loved to play with. And of course, it would only be fair to show him how good you can clean yourself, a little video of your in soap-covered glistering body.

If you don't stop right now, you're in for it, last warning

Promise?

Don't push your luck kitten

*attachment one image*

*attachment one video*

Does my new set match my eyes? What do you think?

Left on read. Exactly forty-five minutes, before your door opens and your boyfriend appeared in its frame. Everything about him appeared calm, even breath, no fists, no tension. The only thing that gave away his fuming rage was his amethyst-like glowing eyes.

"Come here," he ordered, pulling off his shoes and putting them to the side. "Ugh, it's so comfy here though," you told him, stretching yourself on the couch, kissed by the sun. His movement halted, jacket still in his hand, and raised in the air as he turned to look at you. "Excuse me?" the hand wrapped around the fabric tightened, nostrils flared, and only now you realized the mistake you had done. Big hands adorned by silver rings pushed up his sleeves, eyes fixated on you. Even if you wanted to you couldn't leave his gaze, pupils turning into slits when Shinsou started making his way towards you.

Anticipation rose in your stomach, the flick of your tail betraying you as a smirk formed on Shinsou's chiseled face. "Now, kitten," his pointer finger interlaced with the small ring on your collar allowing him to pull your face close to his, his hot breath fanning over your delicate skin "I'll count to ten, you're going to be a good little pet and go into the bedroom, get undressed and wait for me."

Amusement flashed over his face when he noticed your eyes now almost completely black as your pupils expanded. Your breath hitched in your throat as his soft, plump lips were mere an inch away from yours while his thumb stroked your cheek softly. Before your wish could come true he pulled away, starting to unbutton his shirt, the first number filling your ears. You practically run into the bedroom, eager to have him pound into you, your cunt already throbbing at the simple thought of it.

"Nine... Ten," he still wore his grey sweatpants, hung low on his hips, and allowing you to have a perfect view on his happy trail. His large fist was wrapped around thick purple robes. You sat on your bed, legs pulled underneath you while you wore nothing but the collar around your neck, watching him every step. He simply pointed his fingers to the spot in front of him, waiting for you to walk up to him.

"What's your safe word?" he always asked you this before even touching you. Your safety was above anything for him. "Bunny," a small kiss was placed on your forehead. "Good. And your sign?" "Tapping my fingers onto my palm three times," you said like a bullet being shot from a pistol. "You understand that you're in trouble, right?" he asked you, turning you around and pushing your hair to one side, letting him kiss your neck sensually, his free hand wandering down your side. "Yes Shin," you breathed, earning a harsh slap to your ass and a hiss escaping your throat. "That's sir to you, you know better than that," he warned, pulling your arms behind your back and wrapping them together, like he had practiced so many times before, making sure your blood flow wasn't cut off by them.

Shinsou walked to the in black sheets covered bed, sitting down on it with his legs spread open and pulling you in between them. "You know the rules kitten, and you still thought sending me these pics while I'm out in public with my friends would be a good idea. Why is it forbidden to do so, especially without a warning?" he looked at you through his lashes, one hand over your tail drawing small circles, the other circling your clit lazily, sending you in a hazy state. "Because I belong to you, and someone, ah, could see them," your toes curled slightly, trying your best to concentrate on his voice.

"Exactly, so why did you do it then kitten?" he cocked his eyebrow, picking up his speed and watching you squirm. "I wanted your attention, Sir. You barely acknowledged me the last few days," your voice was a mix of pleasure and whining, pressing down on his hand for more which only earned you a slap on your clit. "Ah, so we're a greedy little attention whore?" his question sounded like he just had a breakthrough discovery, a single digit slipping into your wet walls, his thumb still playing with your sensitive nub. "Yes," you admitted, his degradation causing you to clench around Shinsou's curling finger, another one joining. "I see. I'm sorry for not giving you enough attention. What about the attention I'm giving you right now? Is it enough? Or does my little slut need more?" he knew how to make you come within a few seconds, how to play with your pussy to have you squealing out incomprehensible sentences.

His lips wrapped around your nipple, flicking his slick muscle over them again and again. "Hm?" he hummed against it, his thumb now having the perfect speed to send you over the edge already. "More, please Sir," you moaned while he made you ride out your first orgasm of the night. "I thought so. You gotta earn it first though," he didn't plan on having you on your knees for long, but he wasn't ready to give you what you want just yet. After all, you had to be punished.

At the thought of his thick cock down your throat your mouth started to water. Gratefully dropping down in front of him made your tits jiggle in the process. You licked along his shaft, the tip of your tongue going from his balls to the tip of his dick, swirling around its head before starting to bop your head up and down slowly, taking in more and more every time you went down until your nose hit his freshly shaved skin.

With your tongue extended it was easy to kitten lick his balls, adding to the pleasure going through his veins. "Fuck, such a good whore. Just like that, your mouth feels so nice wrapped around me," you continued, his words of courage fueling you while his hips snapped up every now and then to make you splutter around him. After a few minutes of his dick shoved down your neck, you went up for air again, drool making your chin glister in the purple light emerging from the bulb above you.

"I can't remember that I told you to stop," his voice was raspier than normal. Collecting the mixture of spit and precum dripping down your chin with this thumb he pushed it into your mouth, watching you suck on it, and gently dragging your fangs against his finger when he pulled out again. "Go on," apparently you were too slow, his hand fisting your hair. His actions caused you to gag, resulting in his length being pushed down further.

"Don't forget I'm in charge, always," with his left leg grounded, the right one wrapped around your head, his ankle laying on his muscular thigh to keep you in place. He started thrusting upwards, careful to keep your hair out of your face because he didn't want to miss your fucked-out expression. Lilac eyes watched in ecstasis as you struggled against his grip, hearing you gag and feeling you contract against him, more drool dripping down your chin. Shinsou loved turning you into a mess, inside and out.

"Can't breathe kitten?" he asked slightly amused, getting turned on, even more, when the realization hit him about how much power he had over you. You tried shaking your head but failed miserably, ears pulled back with no escape in sight, your tail swinging like a whip. Only when your eyes started to water, your tears meeting at your cupid's bow he had mercy with you.

Due to the abuse of your jaw, you couldn't really close it, trying your best to catch your breath before he pulled you back up. It was easy for Shinsou to have you on your back, spread in front of him while his head found its home between your legs, eating your pussy as if hadn't had a meal in weeks. The man between your legs was licking and sucking your most sensitive area, his manicured nails digging into the meat of your soft thighs to keep them from closing. Shinsou now wanted one thing, and one thing only: his name the only word in your brain as he fucked you stupid, making you cum over and over and over again.

So you did, two times, four times, six times. Your mind was foggy after the fifth, which also was the one leading him to tie your legs to each bedpost at the end because you were overstimulated, your legs clamping shut and he didn't want any of that.

You expected your punishment to be denial, a rough spanking while you are bend over his knees, not being touched at all, only serving for his pleasure and his pleasure alone but you were oh so wrong. The remark off you earlier telling him how little attention he had given you made him rethink his planned discipline. If you want his attention you're going to get it, all of it. The attempt to muffle your moans and screams not even crossing his mind. He wanted everyone to know how good he made you feel, tied up, sprawled in front of him, for him to use and adore.

"Sir please, no more, it feels weird," you cried out, not even trying to move away since you knew it only made him want you more. "Weird how?" he asked and your body was thankful for the short break, yet craved his mouth on you again. "Like I have to pee," you said timidly, a small sob traveling through your sweat-covered body. He cursed under his breath, eyes rolling in the back of his head at the thought of making you squirt. "Too bad you have no say in this," he slapped your clit and returned to his previous position.

Before you knew it his fingers curled even faster, your already hyper-sensitive clit throbbing between his lips covered in your juices. "Please," you sobbed as his eyes watched your in pleasure twisted face, tears streaming down your face. The safe word was still prominent in your brain, you could use it any second but even though your skin was ignited you needed more, needed him to fill you up, to cloud your vision and let you forget every thought in your brain that was left somewhere in there.

"Let go for me kitten," the vibration of his low voice sent you over the edge once again and sure enough his wish came true. Shinsou never knew he could make it happen but today you proved him wrong, the need to be inside of you now bigger than ever before. "Done?" you asked, your whole body shaking and your eyes only a small slit caused by the exhaustion.

"Just started," the lust was written over his face as he cleaned it with your shirt laying next to the bed before positioning himself at your entrance, watching your wetness drip down onto the mattress. Your pussy was throbbing from the many orgasms he had milked from you. He couldn't wait to feel your velvety walls adorning his thick shaft, clenching around it, and hear you scream out in delight.

"No, no more," you tried to put the last bit of energy against the restraints holding you in place but there was no use. Shinsou was a master with ropes and while he can untie you in a second you could never slip out of them, he made sure of that.

A simple tug on each knot freed you and for a second you thought it was over, relaxing into the drenched fabric below you as he turned you around. The feeling of calmness didn't last long, his big, strong hands grabbing your hips and pulling your ass up in the air, delivering a slap to both cheeks and watching them bounce from the impact. He could see your claws extending, a natural reacting to protect you from your attacker but the way your hole clenched around nothing gave away just how much you liked it.

"Did you just say no? I'm gonna continue and you'll let me use you because do you know what you are? A dumb, little whore for me to use. Tell me to stop again and I'll fuck you until you pass out, got it?" he grunted, momentarily teasing you with just the tip of his cock before pushing his whole length balls deep inside of you.

The grip you had around him caused every cuss word his brain held to tumble out within seconds. Never did Shinsou think he could become addicted to a pussy, but here he was, pounding into you like a mad man in love. One hand was placed between your shoulder blades, making you arch just perfect for him to have access to every hole he wanted. The cold spit hitting your until now ignored, puckered hole clench in shock before he pushed his thumb in between your spread cheeks.

It didn't take long for his hand to wrap around your throat, tongue lolling out as yet another orgasm crashed through your body. Your cunt was clenching around him, backside and tail vibrating in satisfaction. "I think you have one more for me, what do you think kitten? Gonna be a good girl?" he could feel his own high building up in his abdomen, ready to fill you up and watch it leak out of your abused pussy. You couldn't possibly form a sentence, let alone a single word, only nodding your head, wanting for him to come inside of you.

"That's what I thought, I'm proud of you, taking me so well," Shinsou grunted, listening to your moans and sobs. Pulling you up by your hair allowed him to view your ahegao face in the reflection of the window, watching the sun go down in the distance and the buildings below you appear so small.

He looked at you in pure bliss, enjoying the little show in front of him, how worn out you looked, sweat, tears, and drool draped over your body. Beautiful boobs bounced in the same beat of his thrusts. "Gon' come Sir" you slurred, stars appearing in front of your eyes while his hand connected with your clit yet again. The word 'mine' written over it caused you to collapse into his arms, crying out his name as the last orgasm washed over you like a tsunami. With another thrust of his hips, he shot his load deep inside of you, and moaned your name.

It didn't take long before Shinsou's strength returned, picking you in his arms and kissing your temple. "Wanna take a bath with me and watch a movie? I can order some food, how does that sound?" his voice was soothing now, calming you down a bit with his quirk, telling you to take deep breaths and focus on his voice. "Yes please," you whispered when he sat you down on the small stool in the bathroom, watching him take out a soothing lotion and your favorite bubble soap. Turning on the water he collected the few cold drops in a glass, tipping your head back and letting the liquid flow down your dry mouth while whispering assuring words into your ears, listening to the soft purrs.

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It

Criminal Minds x Mindhunter AU

Spencer Reid x Peggy Carr (OC) Part 2: The Case

Summary: Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

warnings: strangers to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn! flirting, fluff, eventual smut, idiots in love, OC is Wendy Carr and Jason Gideon's biological daughter. mentions of rape and murder (typical canon violence)

word count: 2.2K

ao3

He’s not expecting her to roll out a full map after the waitress clears the food from their table. They’ve been in the booth for barely 20 minutes. Having mindless conversations about their day and small get to know each other questions while they ate.

“So, I brought all this to my dad,” she explained, dropping 33 files on the table as well as 2 spiral notebooks and a handful of pens. “He thinks I have a case, but he’s refusing to look at the evidence because he’s still triggered by it, which I get, but he said you’d be the best at helping me because I really just need a geo-profile consult.”

“How is he doing?”

She’s been waiting for him to ask but she still didn’t know how to answer, no matter how much time she had to prep, “uh, he’s good. He talks about you every time I see him, how often do you talk?”

“We haven’t talked since he almost died, 6 years ago now… yes, it was in 2015,” Spencer says it like it’s nothing serious.

“Oh,” she’s confused about it all. Her father talks about him more than anyone else, always remembering a case or a conversation that he just had to tell her about.

Spencer was his buddy in her eyes. “Here I was thinking he liked you more than me like you’re his favourite kid.”

“I’m not his kid,” his eyes widen at the insinuation that they’re somehow siblings in any sense.

It makes her laugh, she knows he’s interested in her a small amount. She was hoping he would, she’s heard so many wonderful things about him and she remembers just how cute he was back in 2005. Now he’s a man and a mighty fine one at that…

“I take it you’re an only child?” He changes the subject, “you can’t handle the idea of your father having relationships with people your age when you hardly know him?”

“How about you tell me who you think I am and I’ll tell you where you went wrong?” She challenges him rather than answering, she knows he’s good but she wants to see it in action.

Spencer raised his brow, “if I get it right, you’re paying for lunch.”

“Deal.”

He opens her notebook and takes a look at her notes, flipping through the pages reading the words just as fast as her father said he could. It was incomprehensible, but he didn’t read far… he keeps going back to her drawings, studying the pressure and how her mind worked.

“Your mom travelled a lot when you were a kid, and you always went with her. I’m thinking you have a few degrees, at least 3…” he pauses to watch her microexpressions, trailing her skin with his eyes as he looks for anything out of the ordinary. “There’s a doctorate in there but you hate being called Dr. Carr because that’s your mother’s name and it reminds you too much of people asking about her instead of how you’re doing.”

It cuts deep, but he hits the nail on the head and she just blinks. The simplest microexpression that shows him he got it right, his smile is awkward and he’s sorry for it.

“You were homeschooled so you don’t trust people very easily. You have issues with your father that you can’t place because you still don’t think you know him well enough to really have an opinion, and you’re jealous of me because you wish you knew how he brags about you when you’re not around, but he doesn’t talk about you because you told him not to.”

“I specifically told him I wanted to be left out of his life to stay safe, so it’s really my fault that he can’t brag about me. But I still wish someone would,” she admits with a soft smile. “And I think it’s not really jealousy. I’m not jealous of how he brags about his time with you. If anything, I really admire you now.”

He blushes a little, “alright, your turn.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend before have you?” She calls him out right away. “You can’t take a compliment seriously because no one has loved you deep enough yet for you to believe them. I already know about your parents, I know that you’re scared of forgetting and that’s why you won't stop learning. I think you probably have a bucket list, you’re desperate for something exciting to happen and that’s why you like me already.”

He blinks right back, “touché.”

“I’ll still buy your lunch,” she smiled, and he smiled right back. “And I do have 3 degrees.”

“I do too.”

“I know,” she reminded him. “You’ve been working on that 4th one for the last 16 years.”

“I haven’t had the time.”

She shakes her head as she laughs, teasing him as if she’s better than him because she knows he finds her interesting already, “I had my Ph.D. by 17, as well 2 masters by the time I was 21.”

“3 Ph.D.’s by 22,” he bragged right back.

It had suddenly become a staring contest, “when exactly did your dad walk out on you?”

“I was 10.” Spencer answers. “When was the last time your mom said she was proud of you?”

“Oh, we're going that far, I see,” she laughed, hurt just a little that he dug that deep, “what happened to yours recently?”

“Alzheimer’s.”

“I’m really sorry, I knew about the schizophrenia already because of the fisher king case, that one is the one that still has my dad all fucked up,” she can’t help but rant as she apologizes, placing her hands on his in the centre of the table and he interlocks their fingers like they’ve known each other for years.

“Boston?” He asks her, changing the topic back to getting to know each other without letting go of her hands.

She nods, “Vegas?”

“You knew that already,” he catches her.

“Maybe so,” she blushes at the embarrassment of him picking up on her crush.

“How’d he describe me at chess?” There’s a cockiness behind it that she admires, smiling in response she just shakes her head.

“I don’t play chess, but he says that other than Agent Prentiss, you’re the only person who has come close to beating him.”

“Prentiss?” He looks almost offended at the fact he didn’t know that story.

“You were asleep on the jet, it was right after the trip to Azkaban,” she reminds him.

“Azkaban?” He repeats. “You mean Guantanamo?”

She’s only slightly embarrassed by the slip-up, blushing a deep red as she presses her lips together and squeezes his hand. “My mom calls it Azkaban, she hates it. If it wasn’t for the BAU, she would have never joined the bureau or the government in any way, she’s against the criminal justice system too, so…”

“She’s a woman of science and empathy, I’ve never met her, but I’ve read all her work.”

“So have I,” she’s full of butterflies for some reason as she thinks about him knowing everything that she does, she’s suddenly excited at the prospect of future conversations with him like this isn’t a one-time thing.

He’s still holding her hands over the map, both of them leaning in slightly as they kept talking, it felt overly intimate for a discussion of a case— and they haven’t even started yet.

She takes her hands out of his grip and flattens them over the map, “so I found a pattern, I was asked to look into the rape and murder of a friends sister, and now I’ve found 32 matching cases all over America going in alphabetical order by state, 2 a year since 2005.”

“Are you serious?”

She nods softly, “I’m a private investigator. I hated the academy and simply being in the BAU almost killed both of my parents so I’m not really fond of it, but I need help.”

“How did VICAP not pick this up?” Spencer’s still caught up on the fact this has been happening during his entire career and he had no way of helping. It was very clear by the look on his face.

“Because they’re college-age women getting raped in their dorms, 1 in each state, and men don’t care enough to dig a little deeper when it’s just a little girl who was probably asking for it anyway, right?”

He looks furious, but with her… not at her.

Not like most men, that’s actually exactly what any other guy would have said to her. ‘Not most men,’ they only said that if they were offended; when they knew that they were the exact type of man she was referring to.

He started opening case files then, flipping through everything as she watched carefully, “he always does it the exact same way. It’s every March and November between the 6th and 12th, he’s gotten to the O’s, which means the next hit should be in Oklahoma in exactly 2 months' time.”

“Has there been evidence?” Spencer asks, avoiding eye contact as he both listens and absorbs.

“1 footprint and some random fingerprints at the first few, other than that it’s like he was never there,” she sighs. “This is where I need your help; I’m unsure if he’s attacking randomly or if it’s planned ahead of time, so I brought the map to see if you can make any connection.”

“Alright,” he closes the folder and hands them to her so he can get a better look at everything. “I’m going to need the exact address of each one.”

“I have 32 mini maps,” she says, opening her book bag and handing him yet another folder.

“I’ve noticed they’re in every capital, and it’s always on the east side of the city,” she adds as he spreads them out on the table.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and turns on the flash, turning it face down and holding the sheets of paper over it, “If you look at them over each other, there might be a pattern. We should call my friend Penelope, she’ll be able to digitally do this and find something.”

“Okay,” Peggy nods along, “I really need to know within the week because I’m moving to Oklahoma.”

“What?” He looks overly worried.

“He’s interested in college-age brunettes,” she points at herself. “I’m going to rent an apartment with a sliding door in the kill zone, and I’m going to wait it out. I’ll make sure everyone knows I live alone, I won't make friends, I’ll keep the windows open when I go to the store, I’ll make myself a victim.”

“No, we can get the bureau to send in a team, you don’t need to be in harm's way,” he protests, “I won’t help if I know you’re throwing yourself in the middle of all this. I refuse.”

There’s an underlying panic that she doesn’t quite understand. He’s almost shaking as he thinks about her playing the victim, they stare back and forth at each other softly, eyes flickering over the other’s expression as he also reads her.

“Fine,” she agrees, finally. “But if you’re getting the team involved, I want to be able to have some say in the investigation. I don’t want to be kicked out for just being a PI.”

“On one condition,” Spencer smirks. “You have to teach the BTK seminar with me.”

“Deal,” she smiled. “But I have some conditions too.”

“Anything?”

He was going to regret that.

“We can’t sleep together until we catch the guy— don’t look at me like that!” she catches the way his jaw drops and his eyes glisten.

He’s in complete shock, trying to say words and failing miserably as she stares at him knowingly. “I only said that because I need rules for myself too. We can’t care more about each other than the victims. Solve the case with me and then I’ll have a crush on you, okay?”

“Okay,” he finally finds the words to agree. “Was it that obvious?”

“We held hands for 5 minutes, I’ve thought you were cute since you were 23 and that seminar was a; 'my horse is bigger than your horse' flirting match,” she calls it all out, “I’m just as into you as you are into me already, if not more so because I know way too much about you thanks to my dad and uncle Rossi.”

“Dave knew about you too?” He’s more upset than she expected.

She nods, “yeah, so that I’d be taken care of if anything happened to my dad.”

He is a little upset and she can’t figure out why from what she knows already, “why?”

“You’re so interesting, you and I could have been friends for the last 15 years and things could have been so interesting but you were a secret,” he whispers.

“I was right wasn’t I?”

He nods again, “Gideon doesn’t know about Maeve, but I had a girlfriend who died in front of me before I could tell her I loved her and it broke me.”

Everything makes sense now. The stares, the stuttering, the defensiveness at the idea of her being in harm's way after only knowing her for a few hours. He was desperately looking for someone like himself to prove that he wasn’t going to be alone forever, and he wanted that to be found in her.

“Solve the case with me, then you can learn what it’s like to love someone who loves you back.”

taglist:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #intro to cm #mindhunter #wendy carr #peggy carr

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kissmeaboutit · 3 years

Text

So this is just a short self indulgent fic because I love Buddie and I love Mamma Mia. It’s really not that good, but I had fun with it.

I suggest listening to the song while you read! ( starting when Eddie asks the guy to start the music)

Buck loved Mamma Mia. It was sorta a highly known fact between everyone at the station and honestly anyone in his life. It’s his go to movie to watch when he was sad. It’s also his go to soundtrack when he was doing stuff, cleaning, cooking, laundry. Anything. He’s watched it with Eddie at least 10 times.

Eddie finds it endearing and apparently he’s the only one who thinks so. Which is why he was here. At karaoke. About to spill his feeling to Buck through a duet. Eddie pretty much never went up and sang. He liked to watch everyone else, but today was different.

He pulled away from the table “ Hey. I’m going to put us on the list.” Buck froze, turning to Eddie in shock. Before he could question him, Eddie turned and left the table.

“ Wow I never thought i’d see the day.” Hen commented, her brows raised up high.

“ Think he’s sleep deprived or something?” Chim added.

Eddie sighed as he moved up in line to write down their names and the song. He decided to stand up by the bar until they were called because he’d be going through twenty questions if not.

It was only two songs later that the announcer called their name. Eddie didn’t wait for Buck though. No he actually went on stage and asked him to start the song before Buck even got up there. Eddie grabbed his mic, swallowing hard. He was nervous. When he looked to Buck, who was almost to the stage, he found a big smile on his face.

“ Mamma Mia?!” Buck took two steps at a time to grab his own mic. Eddie didn’t wait for him before he started to sing.

“I wasn't jealous before we met

Now every man that I see is a potential threat”

Buck didn’t seem to notice that Eddie was literally singing too him. He stepped in closer, his smile was blinding. Eddie didn’t dare look at anyone else though. “And I'm possessive, it isn't nice. You've heard me saying that smoking was my only vice” He took a step around Buck, circling him like a shark. His voice wasn’t half bad.

“But now it isn't true” Eddie’s hands were sweating so badly, but he just gripped the microphone and continued. “Now everything is new.” He rounded back to stand in front of Buck, stepping into his space “And all I've learned has overturned,I beg of you”

Buck’s eyes were wide, unsure if Eddie was just really into the song or not. He almost missed the next part, but brought the microphone up to his lips so he could start singing his line “ Don't go wasting your emotion. Lay all your love on me.”

Buck took a few steps backwards so he could actually breathe. His eyed were still locked on Eddie. “ It was like shooting a sitting duck

A little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck.” He felt like he was burning up under the bright lights on the stage. “I still don't know what you've done with me

A grown-up woman should never fall so easily”

Eddie licked his lips a little, his fingers twitched. He wanted to reach out to him.

“I feel a kind of fear.” Buck stepped back in again, unable to be far from him for long. “When I don't have you near.” He reached out to cup Eddie’s cheek. “Unsatisfied, I skip my pride.” Buck’s thumb slid down his cheek, his eyes flickered to Eddie’s lips. “I beg you, dear.”

Eddie shakily sang along softly to the chorus. He honestly forgot they were in a room full of other people. They were staring at each other like they were communicating through their minds. “I've had a few little love affairs.” Buck sang, making a face which in turn made Eddie roll his eyes. “They didn't last very long and they've been pretty scarce.” Why didn’t Buck ever realize how much he related to this song, even though it was his favorite from the movie.

“ I used to think I was sensible It makes the truth even more incomprehensible.” Eddie was so blinded by everything that was Buck. He had been for years and he didn’t realize it until recent.

They started singing together, Eddie’s hand moved to touch Buck’s face.“ 'Cause everything is new.” He chickened out last second and just gripped the microphone with two hands. “ And everything is you.” Their faces were leaning in closer.

“And all I've learned has overturned

What can I do?”

As the chorus started, Eddie dropped the mic from his mouth. Thankfully the song still played those lyrics so it wasn’t like it was silent. He was starting to reach up to touch his face again when Buck started singing his part of the chorus. “Don't go wasting your emotion

Lay all your love on me.” His hand splayed on Eddie’s chest as he pushed him backwards while walking towards him. They moved across the stage effortlessly.

“ Don't go sharing your devotion. Lay all your love on me.” Buck’s eyes were full of everything needed for his next move. Eddie stopped moving backwards, his hands finally reached for Buck’s wrists as he pulled him in close. The song was starting to draw to a close and it was then that they both swooped in for a kiss at the same time.

Their arms wrapped around each other, and it wasn’t until a bottle was being tossed in the recyclable bin they they were pulling away from each other. They panted, their eyes suddenly wide as they remembered they most definitely were not alone.

Looking out into the crowd, Buck’s eyes caught their family’s shocked and also knowing expressions. Hen started clapping which in a matter of seconds had the whole place cheering. Buck and Eddie blushed, looking back to each other.

“ Did you learn the words just for me?” He murmured softly, running his fingers against Eddie’s jaw.

“ Eh. You play it so much I was forced to learn them.” The brunet joked softly, sliding his free hand into Buck’s.

“ Oh ha ha ha. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, so I’m going to take that as a win.” Buck grinned cheekily. “ This is also totally going to be our song.” He said as they stepped off the stage. “ So wanna go back to my place and play Gimmie!Gimmie!Gimmie! ?” Buck bit his lip, handing over his microphone to the man behind the desk.

“I was planning on it.” Eddie smirked, winking at him smoothly as he lead him to the door.

#911 #911 fox #911 on fox #911onfox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #mamma mia

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charliedawn · 3 years

Text

Imagine you're another being with the "shinning" and hunted by Rose Hat and her gang. Part 1.(my version of Doctor Sleep. Warning : gore. Horror movie. Also, you're a bad a**. 😉😂)

Little Danny loved to explore the hotel, he liked to think that it was an adventure. This is why that when the door of room 374 mysteriously opened on its own, he found himself inside before he could think about the consequences of his action. He looked around, it didn't seem any different from any other room, besides the fact that there was a huge mirror in the center of it. He approaches it and, finding his reflection funny, started making weird faces in front of it. However, his reflection quickly distorted, showing a little girl who was crying instead. Danny was a very curious little boy, and like many little boys as curious as him, he wanted to investigate. He sat on the ground and stared at the girl that hadn't noticed him yet and couldn't help but find her pretty. When she raised her eyes, they immediately made contact with the ones of Danny that smiled sympathetically at her.

" Why are you crying?"

He asked and she sniffled.

" My sister..She's done some terrible things..But I don't know what to do.."

He stared at the mirror for a moment before raising his index to his ear and whispered.

" What should I do, Tony ? She seems scared.."

The little girl raises an eyebrow at his strange gesture, but didn't interrupt him as he replied in another voice.

" I think she needs a friend.."

The boy smiled and nodded vividly in agreement before turning towards the girl again.

" Tony says I should probably be your friend. My name is Danny. What's yours ?"

The girl laughed a little before replying.

" Y/N..Where are you right now ?"

You asked, looking around him with a small frown. He seemed to be in some sort hotel..But, something felt off.

" I'm with my mom and my dad. We came here for his job.."

But, Danny didn't seem too happy about it and you decided to step a little closer to the mirror.

" You see bad things too.."

You said knowingly and Danny nodded frantically.

" I see them too.."

His eyes widened at your confession and he quickly asked.

" Really ? What do you see ?"

You seemed to look around, making sure that no one could hear you before leaning in and whispering.

" My sister..She has someone else with her, someone bad and that tells her what she has to do. This morning, she killed our dog..This is why I'm sad. The more the bad lady stays, the more my sister seems to change..I'm afraid that she will do something awful to my parents.."

Danny listened and put his thumb in his mouth, the only this that seemed to calm him down when he was worried or upset about something. He was afraid that you would find his odd behavior strange, but you only smiled before putting a strand of your hair in your mouth: your own calming process. He slowly took his thumb out and shared his own struggles.

" My father wanted to come here..but the hotel is bad. There are very bad things happening around and I'm afraid that he is going to hurt us.."

In a way, you both understood each other's struggles..But before you could talk more about it, you heard the voice of your sister calling you and freezed. She entered the room and her eyes were immediately drawn to the mirror. She smiled maliciously before standing in front of the glass.

" And who might you be, huh ?"

She asked, but Danny was too scared to speak..He had seen the old woman standing above her and her face suddenly distorted at the realization. She grimaced in anger and screamed.

" Get out of my house !"

The force of the scream was such that it send Danny flying against a wall. The connection stopped and Danny was on the verge of crying when he suddenly heard a door creak. He slowly turned his head towards the bathroom and his eyes widened as he saw someone in the bathtub. He stood up and seemed to be drawn in by the bathroom. He wanted to get out, but couldn't help walking forward, the door closing behind him..

A few years later :

You are walking towards the nearby cinema, unaware that you are being followed. You step in the cinema and buy a ticket before sitting down in one of the comfortable chairs of the dark room. There are other people, a blond girl and a man in his forties. You don't have to wonder about their relationship as the man puts his hand on the girl's thigh. You grimace and try to take a better look at the girl that seemed awfully young..You sigh loudly before looking up at the screen. They had entered together..maybe you were reading too much into this ? However, when you hear the small noises of pain, you stand up, ready to take the girl's hand and run..But imagine your surprise when you see that the moans of pain were coming from the man. You stay speechless, but quickly sit back down, looking at the girl that is whispering things in his ear, things that make the man physically shake. You look around, wondering if anyone else had noticed. Nobody seems to notice what's unfolding, only two people that seem to fix the girl with envy and..something else. You shiver as the eyes of the woman seem to stare straight at you. However, you pretend being as oblivious as everyone else by stuffing yourself with popcorn, making her grimace in disgust and look away promptly. At the end of the movie, you nearly run out of the cinema and enter the bus quickly. You see the two persons following..the blond girl from the cinema. She seems scared and you take multiple shaky breaths before running out of the bus. You curse yourself as you run past the two creeps to take the arm of the girl and put on your best fake smile.

" Hi girl ! The movie was sooo good, don't you think ?!"

The blond one frowns in incomprehension, but quickly understands when you significantly tilt your head backwards. She nods and smiles even wider before playing the game.

" I know ! I'm so sorry to have left you, but I really thought my date would show up !"

You glance backwards and see that the two have disappeared..But you don't feel like leaving the girl alone and whisper.

" My house is a few blocks away..You can hide there for a bit, just to make sure the two weirdos are truly gone.."

She looks back as well and finally nods in agreement. You arrive and lock the door behind you. You then turn towards the blond that is looking around curiously. You smile and look through the window to observe the street.

" Do you have any friends or family around here that you can stay at for the night ?"

You ask and the girl looks at her shoes sheepishly and shakes her head.

" No..I'm alone."

You feel her uneasiness and gaze back at her with a small reassuring smile.

" Don't worry, you can stay the night if you want. But, as I'm supposed to leave tomorrow..I need to know if you have anywhere to go ? A shelter maybe ? Do you want me to call child services ?"

At the mention of the latter, the girl looks up at you with frightened eyes and shakes her head negatively.

" No ! You won't take me there ! You'll allow me to stay here !"

The way she says it almost sounds like an order and you can see that she is trying to use the same trick on you than she did with the older man..but it doesn't work and you only sigh loudly.

" Fine. As I said, you can stay the night. But, tomorrow, I will be going to New Hampshire, so you better find something until then."

She slowly nods and you then make a sign for her to follow you. You open the guest room and she enters. She sits on the bed and seems happy enough. You smile and are about to tell her goodnight when she surprises you by telling you her name:

" Andi. My name is Andi."

You just realize now that you hadn't even asked for her name..You smile and respond.

" I'm Y/N."

Then you close the door and go to your own room.

The next day :

You wake up and get ready before preparing your breakfast. You enter Andi's room, but only find a neatly made bed. You feel a bit sad at the fact that she didn't even say goodbye..but that quickly goes away when you see that you are missing 20 dollars.

" Son of a..!"

You curse and sigh again..Well, it could have been worse. You take your car keys and get inside your car. You start driving towards New Hampshire while following a map. You are supposed to have an interview for the local newspaper and also..You kinda want to get away from the city for a while, too many entities there. You only stop halfway to get your sandwiches out of your bag. You search for through your stuff, but suddenly feel something moving on the backseat. You freeze and your brain starts gathering all the possible explanations..A raccoon ? A spirit ?..You wait and finally, a familiar fair-haired head peeks out from underneath a blanket.

"...Hey."

She greets you with an awkward smile and a small wave of her hand. You can't believe that she 1) actually slept through more than half of the road and 2) that she followed you ! Your shock passed6, you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation and ask on an intransigent tone.

" Andi. What are you doing here ?"

She doesn't answer, she just looks ahead with widened eyes and you grit your teeths..Is she actually ignoring you right now ?! You are about to start yelling when she points towards the road ahead. You sigh, but still look and your eyes widen as well when you see who is driving the small van ahead of you..the guys who was following Andi yesterday ! He seems to be following a young boy now. Your blood boils in your veins at the prospect that they were now actually attacking small children.

" Andi. Seat belt."

You say warningly, your hand gripping the steering wheel with such intensity that your knuckles turn white. Andi doesn't wait for you to ask twice and quickly buckles her seat belt. You see that the boy is about to get inside the car and suddenly hit the gas. You had a feeling, a feeling that this boy would never see the light of day again if you didn't stop them. You drive straight ahead and collide with van full force, continuing advancing even afterwards. You make them drive backwards and you glare straight into the other driver's eyes. He seems shocked at first, but when he recognizes you, he smiles. You grit your teeths and yell while raising your middle finger.

" Yeah ! Keep smiling, a**h*le !"

The boy is far away now. He will be able to get back to his parents safely. Andi doesn't scream, but can feel the anger radiating from you. The van drives away as well, and the front of your car may be in a disastrous state, but you don't care. When you're calm enough, you lean back against your seat and look back at Andi, making sure that she is alright.

" Everything's fine ?"

She nods affirmatively before looking at you with concern written all over her features.

" I know that they are creeps but..Wasn't it a bit too much ?"

You close your eyes and remember the screams of agony of a little girl that you had heard a few months ago..You don't know why, but the screams had suddenly reappeared in your head as you had seen the two individuals following Andi yesterday, and even louder with this kid. It is now your alarm when bad thing are about to happen. You hear the screams of this girl that seemed in such pain when she died..You had ran to get to her, but by the time you had arrived, she had disappeared completely. This is another one of the reasons why you had decided to leave your old town. You take a big breath before driving forward.

" You have to trust me on this. They deserved it."

You say confidently and Andi doesn't add anything. She only looks out the window silently for the rest of the way. When you finally arrive, you stop in front of a weird-looking house with dark-tinted windows and a bright red door. You had already seen it of course, but Andi hadn't. She pouts when she sees it and whines.

"Is that really where you're going to live ?"

You ark an eyebrow at the pronoun she uses and cough loudly for her to turn her attention towards you.

" Where WE are going to live, you mean ? You really think I'm going to let you go with those people out there ? Not in a million years. You stay with me, Missy. That you like it or not.."

Her eyes widen, but she quickly smiles excitedly.

" You mean it ?! I promise that I won't steal money from you again ! And I'll even give your watch back !"

" Yeah yeah..Don't get used to it though, as soon as the creeps are definitely off our backs, I'm finding you someone else to take care of you..Wait, what do you mean by giving my watch back ?!"

She smiles awkwardly and you look at your naked wrist and roll your eyes before extending your hand.

" Come on. Give it."

She immediately gets it out and gives it back to you with an apologetic smile. You both get out, and she even helps you with the luggage.

" No more stealing. I'll have a job and I'm sure it'll pay enough for the both of us."

She doesn't answer right away, but you suddenly turn around and wait with your arms crossed expectantly. She finally rolls her eyes and replies with her gaze lowered to the floor.

" Yes, "mom"."

You gasp in fake offense at her insinuation and she looks up at you with a small smirk.

" That's it, young lady. Come on. Get inside and tomorrow, I'll be sure to walk around and see if any schools can accept you. There is no way I'm leaving a fifteen-year old roam the street."

She seems to disapprove and says on an authorative tone, crossing her arms as well.

" I'm not going. In fact, you'll forget ever asking me to do so.."

She tries to use her powers on you again, but you resist her and sigh before entering the house. You don't answer her and she frowns, upset. However, she still enters after you and is agreeably surprised by the interior that is a lot prettier than the outside. You smile at her awed expression, however, you aren't that pleased to be back in this house..

" Home sweet home.."

You still remember how you thought that the walls were full of secrets and that the seemed to be whispering in your ears..They had warned you of what would happen, but you were only a child..What could you have done ? Andi gets you out of your thoughts by groaning loudly.

" I'm hungry.."

You sigh, of course she is..

" Okay, the money you stole from my wallet ? It was supposed to be used for buying groceries once here."

She looks at her shoes almost guiltily before admitting.

" I was hungry this morning..I used it to by a box of donuts and a milkshake.."

You want to be mad..but you can't. You only take out your wallet and open the door. She quickly follows you and you start walking, searching for a shop. You soon find one at the corner of a nearby street and enter. You start looking around for decent prices while Andy starts piling up sugary sweets upon sugary sweet in the...You turn in the soups alley and Andi grimaces in disgust at nearly every single soup on the shelves. You finally take some, ignoring Andi's complaining. You see that the last tomato soup is on sale and are about to take it when another hand shots up to get it. You turn towards the owner of the hand and see an Indian man with a nice smile. He gives you the soup while apologizing.

" My bad, you spot it first."

You smile back politely and take it. You are about to turn around and go when the man introduces himself while extending your hand towards you.

" I'm Billy. Billy Freeman."

You finally shake his hand with a small smile and nod in acknowledgement before replying.

" I'm Y/N. And this girl here is Andi."

However, the man frowns in confusion before looking behind you.

" Hum..Andi ?"

You turn around and see that Andi is gone. You sigh loudly before groaning.

" This girl I swear.."

You then flash your best apology smile towards Billy.

" It was a pleasure, Billy. But, I need to go."

You start walking towards the cashier, but Billy follows you before adding.

" Wait. I'll search with you."

You are about to refuse, but finally nod in agreement. You need all the help you can get to find the girl, hoping that one of those creepy guys didn't get to her first..You shiver just as the thought and feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you start yelling.

" Andi ! Andi ! Where are you ?!"

Billy calls her as well, but you finally have to go through the cashier.

" Please, I lost my...sister. Her name is Andi. Can you call her ?"

The lady only nods before making the call. You stay here, biting your nails out of frustration. One minute, and Andi had disappeared. You don't want admit it, but you like the blond midget. You don't want anything to happen to her until you find her a family or help in any case..Suddenly, the woman smiles and tilts her head towards one of the aisles where two individuals had just gotten out of. One is Andi, munching grumpily on a handful of crisps while the other person, a man, drags her forward. You sigh in relief before running towards them.

" Thank God ! Andi ! I was worried !"

She only rolls her eye dramatically before continuing eating, but you can see that she feels guilty when she whispers.

" Yeah..Sorry.."

You look up to thank the man that had found her and freeze on thee spot when your eyes meet. Somehow, you have this feeling to have already seen him somewhere.. However, he doesn't seem to feel the same way as he only smiles before tilting his head towards Andi.

" You're the sister of the little demon ?"

He asks with a small smile and you nod with a slight smile as well. He extends his hand towards you and you shake it accordingly. However, the moment your hand is in his, you feel as if electricity is coursing through your entire body. He seems to feel it too this time as he immediately steps away with a small frown of incomprehension. However, before you could say anything, Billy appears and takes him by the shoulders in a friendly way.

" Hey, Danny ! I see that you've met the new members !"

Danny ? The name is as familiar as the face, but Danny only shakes his head with a shy smile.

" Yeah. Just found the girl and decided to do a good deed..But, I have to come back to work. I'll see you around."

You don't know who he is addressing those last words too, but you still reply.

" I hope so.."

He looks one last time at you before leaving and suddenly, memories flash in your brain that makes you scream in agony in front of everyone. Andi is by your side in and instant and tries to calm you down, but you feel a painful pang in your chest. You open your eyes wide and feel as if you can't breathe..You thought you had locked her up..But, one glance at Danny, and your old demon got out of his prison. You feel cold arms around your neck as she whispers in your ear.

" hello, sister.."

End of part 1! Tell me what you think!

#danny x reader #doctor sleep #fanfic #imagine #fandoms #danny torrance

42 notes · View notes

aj-artjunkyard · 3 years

Text

I posted 566 times in 2021

86 posts created (15%)

480 posts reblogged (85%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 5.6 posts.

I added 1,556 tags in 2021

#dc comics - 389 posts

#green lantern - 214 posts

#hal jordan - 197 posts

#batman - 142 posts

#green lantern corps - 128 posts

#bruce wayne - 124 posts

#batfam - 113 posts

#damian wayne - 96 posts

#robin - 77 posts

#batfamily - 76 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#watched the live action avatar as a kid and wondered why there were so many bad reviews then watched the show years later and understood

My Top Posts in 2021

*Alien invasion in Gotham*

Batman: can everyone PLEASE just GO INSIDE?

The entire population of Gotham, beating up laser-shooting aliens with chairs and sticks: YOU’RE NOT OUR DAD

300 notes • Posted 2021-08-13 12:05:47 GMT

tumblr_video

Batdad is exhausted ok

I just really wanted an excuse to draw batman in his boneless shadow style and loved every second of it! I have 13 more audio samples from this video but this one took me days, so there may or may not be a part 2

DO NOT REUPLOAD/REPOST.

(Audio from Jacksepticeye’s play through of Litle Nightmares: the Hideaway DLC)

543 notes • Posted 2021-05-15 20:13:56 GMT

When Damian and Jon are the Batman and Superman of the JL, they’re gonna be incomprehensible.

They’ve been best friends since they were preteens, and now they can communicate with the most miniscule glances and half-baked muddled sentences and no one has any clue what they’re saying over the comms

No one in the Justice League is sure if they’ve ever had a full conversation because they just keep doing this

“Mmm. How about we- yknow- like” *Vague hand gestures*

*scrunches face*

“No yeah you’re right that wouldn’t work”

“BUT-”

“butt”

“BUT, if we send them guys *gestures vaguely* to that place.. uh. Remember that place where we caught that villain dude that one time”

“Yeh duh”

“Yeh so uhhhh. What was I saying-”

“Yeah no I got it we’ll just do that plan but slightly to the left”

“Right-o let’s move out”

JL: NO WHATS THE PLAN

Damian and Jon: WHAT DO YOU MEAN. WERE YOU NOT LISTENING

847 notes • Posted 2021-06-24 14:16:21 GMT

ok DC fans. We’ve had AU fics about the JL finding out that Batman has kids. That he's not always a terrifying demon but is actually soft with his 55 Found Family members. We’ve had them, and let me tell you, I’ll gladly read 13643 iterations of that same plot. Love them. Send any reading recs my way.

BUT

WHERE are the fics where the JL finds out that Hal Jordan is, among other things, a universal legend.

Imagine an AU in which the JL know literally nothing about Hal’s outer space exploits (much like the ‘JL meets the Batfam’ fics are set in AUs where no one knows anything of Gotham or Batman outside the JL). Imagine that all Earth’s heroes know about the Green Lantern Corps is that they're interplanetary space cops, and that sometimes Hal needs to ‘report for duty’, assumedly stopping volcanic eruptions or evacuating alien citizens from a doomed planet. When asked, Hal confirms that those are among the things he does.

But then they start to get more space missions, and coincidentally learn more about the GL corps.

More specifically that Hal - the comeback king, the irresponsible, goofy, mildly irritating/extremely annoying guy on the team that rarely takes orders and never shuts his mouth, is one of the most highly revered beings among the known star systems??

This dude steps into a bar in Sector who-knows-where, uses constructs to block every exit and announces his name, the patrons are practically yelling the information he needs. Citizens cheer when he lands on certain planets. Also, the guy has been dead so many times. He has become pure will (which destroyed an enemy planet) and has even been Corps Leader. He’s broken the limitations of the ring so regularly that the JL assumed that all GLs could just do the things he does. Nope!

There are some other gems too. For a man with no regard for rules, his best friend is his old drill sergeant? Wait, are you telling us that this ‘Sinestro’ guy, the Joker to the Green Lantern’s Batman, personally trained Hal???? Hal, be honest here, are you a reformed hero????? Why are people so scared of you???? I thought you were just some guy with anime magic jewellery???????

898 notes • Posted 2021-08-17 19:45:46 GMT

Me, at work: *blankly putting stuff on shelves*

Me, mentally: ok but “who would win in a race: Superman or The Flash” is old and boring, “who would win in a hot dog eating contest: Superman or The Flash” on the other hand 👀. Lil bit spicier. More nuanced.

On one side, Superman might physically be able to fit more dogs in his stomach, but mentally? Emotionally? Supes is way too polite, he just wouldn’t have the technique or the will. He’d feel his mother’s disappointed frown weighing him down with every sloppy bite.

Flash, however, eats his paycheque like there’s no tomorrow. He shovels food in his mouth hour after hour like it’s his last meal on death row. Barry would have the mental capabilities to not only wharf down 50 hot dogs in half a second, but he would enjoy it. He may throw up though, which would get him eliminated

The only rival to these two is Shazam, who is a literal 10 year old child with the power of a god and the bottomless stomach of a preteen boy. Billy would not need super speed to be tough competition for Superman.

Batman has never once eaten a hotdog and would gag at the mere smell

1746 notes • Posted 2021-09-19 18:02:04 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

7 notes · View notes

fidothefinch · 3 years

Text

he will tear you with his tongue

For Dick & Dami Week 2021, day 1: "Did you really mean that?"

Dick didn’t think. The goon was adjusting his grip on Damian’s knife, aiming the blade down his neck. The man wanted revenge, and on such short notice Dick only saw one option.

Pretend he didn’t care.

(Full fic under the cut, or read on Ao3)

Dick tapped the glass of his window casually, watching the familiar buildings of Gotham speed past his view.

“TT.”

Dick angled his body toward Damian. The kid was staring resolutely at the back of the seat in front of him, obviously still pouting over losing this particular argument before they had left the penthouse. “It’s just a few hours.”

“Hours I could have spent training. Or studying. Or watching paint dry.”

Dick fought back the quirk of his lips, knowing it would only send Damian into a darker mood. “Was that a joke?”

“I assure you, it was not.” Damian glowered.

“Think of it as training,” Dick offered. “Undercover work. We have to keep up appearances, so people don’t suspect us.”

“TT.” Damian shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His hands fisted the material of the opposite sleeves.

“Be careful not to crease your suit, Master Damian,” Alfred piped in from the front, the first words he had spoken since they had embarked on their journey into the city. “I will not have time to correct it before they begin filming.”

Damian released his sleeves like he had burned them, his fingers almost imperceptibly smoothing out the small wrinkles that had formed. He still sat with his back ramrod straight, but that was nothing uncommon for the uptight kid.

Still.

“Is there something you’re worried about?” Dick asked. “It should be perfectly safe—”

“I am not worried,” Damian growled. “I am annoyed that I am being forced to waste my time being interviewed on daytime television.”

“The morning news isn’t—”

“And I am not looking forward to putting on an act of stupidity like the rest of you.”

Okay, so that stung a little. Dick bit his tongue to control his instinctual comeback. Instead he analyzed what lay underneath the statement. “So you’re afraid you’ll look stupid.”

“It would be impossible not to, with you.”

Alfred let a sharp “Master Damian,” ring across the car, and to the butler’s credit, Damian’s face twitched.

“You cannot deny it,” Damian pressed. “I am doomed to adopt the act that my predecessors have started, and I must accept the fact I will be nakedly mocked on live television and in the drivel that they call news for the rest of the year.”

“Hey,” Dick said, trying to get his attention. When Damian looked up, there was a flicker of emotion behind his eyes before he blocked it off again. They were still working on that. “Who cares what the gossip says? The people that matter know who you really are.”

For a second, Dick thought the words may sink in, that Damian would answer like a normal human with empathy. “Is that what father told you before he kicked you out?”

“Damian—”

“Master Richard.”

Something in the butler’s voice immediately caught both of their attention.

“What’s wrong?” Dick asked, leaning forward to look over the dashboard. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the vehicle.

“It appears that we are being followed.”

Even as Alfred said it, Dick’s eyes caught on a set of headlights in the rearview mirror, tailing a little too closely to be comfortable. A matching black van followed them on their left, and when Dick looked forward, there was another one—no license plate— several cars ahead and to their right. “More like we’re being herded,” he muttered.

“I told you we should have brought our weapons,” Damian said. “I could kill the driver behind us within—”

“We’re not killing anybody.” The phrase had grown so familiar he didn’t even blink at it. “I’ll go ahead and call the police. Alfred, try to stay on the busier streets. They won’t try anything where there are so many witnesses.” At least, he hoped they wouldn’t. It really depended on who was in the vans.

Alfred nodded, changed his turn signal, and merged seamlessly into the middle lane.

The van behind them nosed in immediately after, cutting off the driver who had let them over.

Dick dug through his pockets until he found his phone and got to work dialing the police. But the device flew from his hands when, a moment later, the car lurched.

“They hit us,” Alfred explained. “I do not believe they are trying to be subtle, anymore.”

Clearly, whoever it was, they weren’t afraid of making a scene. Time to change tactics. “Think you can shake them?”

“I will try. Please buckle your seatbelt.”

Dick nodded, ducking to retrieve his phone before scrambling back into his seat. The screen was cracked from the force with which he had dropped it.

“Master Damian, you must wear your seatbelt, too.”

Dick shifted his attention away from his broken (non-functioning) phone to see Damian, kneeling backwards on the bench to glare out the rear windshield. “Damian, sit down.”

“I am sitting,” the kid replied, his eyes never leaving the van behind them. “The man has a prison tattoo on his left bicep and a shamrock tattoo on his neck. Are you familiar with him?”

“Turn around and put your ass. . . actually.” Dick twisted in his seat to get a look. (And released his seatbelt so he could look more clearly.) “Yeah, that’s Korban Branthwaite. He was part of a crew responsible for a string of bank robberies a while ago. He just got out on parole last month.”

“I could easily leap from our vehicle to his and demand an explanation.”

“You’re not doing that. I’m not letting you do that. Seriously, Damian. Put your seatbelt on before—” Dick’s next words were cut off by Alfred’s shout. He had just enough time to grab Damian before the van barreling toward them slammed into the side of their car.

Dick pulled Damian in close to his body, twisting around the smaller boy to protect him from the worse of the impact as the world around them erupted into chaos. The windows shattered inward, the door crumpling in like a crushed tin can. Their vehicle screeched and whined, snapping side to side hard enough to give Dick whiplash as the wheels fought to regain traction. The view outside spun across the windows, road-cars-trees-dirt blurring into an incomprehensible mess.

Dick shut his eyes and held on tighter, his stomach swooping like it did on the trapeze.

After what felt like an eternity, the motion stopped.

He waited until he was sure, until the rocking of the car stilled and the only noise was of the traffic passing outside. Only then did Dick loosen his fingers, let his eyes stray down to the quiet face tucked under his chin. “Are you okay?” he asked, the slight waver inn his voice giving away his worry.

“Tt.” Damian pushed against Dick’s chest, propelling himself backward. “I am fine.”

Uh-huh.

Dick looked him over and was relieved to find nothing worse than a few scratches and bruises from the broken glass. Damian had already shifted his attention outside, where the van that had hit them rested several yards away. He smacked Dick’s hand away when he tried to brush broken glass out of his hair. “I do not believe they were trying to kill us.”

Dick pressed his lips together. “No.” Then, panic hit him with more clarity. “Alfred!”

“I am alright, Master Richard.”

Dick pushed to the front seat, knowing that he lived with a family of liars who would prefer to bleed out than admit they had an injury. Alfred was pinned back by his seatbelt, and a quick scan revealed a bleeding nose and broken arm. “We’ll get Leslie to set that,” Dick promised him.

“They’re coming,” Damian said, voice serious.

“Who?”

“Your thieves.”

Dick stooped to look out the windshield, and, sure enough, another of the black vans had pulled up, blocking their view of the road beyond. Four men trotted down the small incline toward their car. “Shit.”

“You are sure we cannot kill them?”

Dick didn’t get the chance to respond. The men reached their car and forced the good doors open hard enough to shake it again.

“Get out,” one of the men barked. He was a big guy, with a handlebar mustache and a matching shamrock tattoo, but on his arm.

“No,” Damian sneered.

Two of the men flanking the big one pulled out guns. Dick reacted on instinct, backing up and spreading his arms to block their view of Damian. He couldn’t let the kid get shot.

“I won’t tell you again,” the man threatened.

“Look, I’ll come.” Dick held up his hands non-threateningly. “Leave the kid here. He doesn’t know anything.”

The man looked him up and down with a predatory gaze that made Dick shiver. Finally, he gave a curt nod. “Grab him.”

The two men flanking him lowered their weapons in favor of reaching inside, grabbing each of Dick’s arms and hauling him out. When Dick’s feet found the grass, they wasted no time fastening zipties around his wrists and a blindfold over his eyes.

Dick breathed deeply to control his fear reaction as they shoved him blindly forward.

“Let go of me!”

“Damian?” Dick dug his heels in, stopping their progress. “You said—”

“Shut up before I decide to bring the old man, too.”

Dick pressed his tongue into the roof of his mouth as hard as he could. Alfred needed to be looked at by a medical professional; it would do him no good being dragged into this. But Damian was untested, as far as civilian kidnappings went.

If this was a kidnapping.

They frog-marched Dick to what he assumed was the van before tossing him inside. He landed hard on his stomach, his face rubbing against rough, crusty carpet. The smell of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and stale sweat assaulted his nose.

“Where are you taking us?” he asked.

A warm, bony body landed on top of his, letting out a muffled snarl of displeasure. So they had gagged Damian. That was probably a good thing.

“That’s none of your concern,” the lead man replied.

The van rocked as the rest of the men filed in. Doors rolled shut around them, the engine rumbled to life, and the car swayed as it pulled back up onto the road.

“Search his pockets.”

“Wait.” Before hands could begin roaming all over his body (a thought that made his skin crawl), Dick offered, “My wallet’s in the left breast pocket of my jacket.”

A big hand slipped into his jacket and retrieved it easily.

“Phone?”

Dick internally cringed, already knowing where this was going. “I don’t have it.”

“Search him.”

Dick couldn’t see the touches coming; he couldn’t help but flinch away from each brush of contact. “I don’t have it. I lost it in the wreck.”

There was a muffled growl from next to him. God, they were searching Damian, too.

“Found one on the kid.”

“Give it to me,” the leader commanded. A moment later, “Give me his thumb. I need access.”

The smaller body next to Dick suddenly jolted away. The movement was accompanied by deep gasps and shuffling feet.

“Fuck. The kid has a knife!”

If it were any other situation, Dick would roll his eyes. As it was, he silently thanked the heavens that Damian had managed not to lethally stab anybody yet. He reached around blindly, trying to find him.

“Well, take it away from him!”

“You do it!”

A growl. “Pathetic. You’re scared of a little boy.”

A muffled yelp.

“No! Wait!” Unable to find his brother, Dick scooted toward the sound of something dragging across the carpet. “Stop!”

He finally reached Damian’s side, only for a white-hot slash of pain to slice down his arm. He couldn’t help his grunt in reaction.

The sound of the knife falling to the floor was muffled by the carpet, but unmistakable. Dick couldn’t see, but he was positive that it was immediately retrieved by one of the goons.

Sure enough, the leader laughed, somewhere above Dick’s head. “Did daddy teach the little brat some self-defense?”

“Leave him alone,” Dick growled. He found Damian’s shirt and clung to it.

“Oh?” Hot breath fanned across Dick’s face, much too close to be comfortable. “Feeling a little. . . protective?”

Dick’s heart jumped in his chest.

Something in his face must have showed it, because the goons around him laughed. “We must have gotten the right one, then. Norman will be pleased.”

“Who’s that?” Dick asked. “Listen, I can get you money—”

“That’s not why we’re here,” the leader said.

“Then what do you want?”

The leader’s mouth curled into a cruel grin. “You’ll see.”

A rag was closed over his lower face, the sharp stench of chloroform following. Dick thrashed his head, but between the blindfold and his bound hands he had no (reasonable) defense.

Between one breath and the next, he fell asleep.

“Take off his blindfold.”

Dick blinked, more for the release of pressure on his eyes than for the light, which was dim inside the small, windowless room. He was still groggy, his head pounded from the last dredges of chloroform, and his shoulders already ached from behind tied around the back of his chair, but his attention was immediately caught by his surroundings.

Four men stared down at him threateningly. One of them had his arms wrapped around Damian, who was also tied to a chair, still blindfolded and gagged.

More threatening was the knife poised over Damian’s face.

Dick’s heart hammered at the sight. “I won’t fight you. You don’t have to hurt him.”

“Ah, but we do,” called a new voice, from behind.

Dick tried to twist, but he had to wait until the man chose to step into his sightline. He had dark hair and a rat-like face: small eyes, yellow teeth, and a sparse moustache. The smirk he gave Dick held a mix of resentment and triumphant possessiveness.

“I’ve got money,” Dick tried, even remembering how the offer had gone last time. “I just need to make a phone call.”

The man clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That will not work. You see,” he offered, removing his tobacco-stained fingers from his pockets. “This has been a long-time coming. I could get money, but you’re rich, so what would that really teach you?”

This was personal. This was bad.

The man took a step forward, leaning into Dick’s personal space. “I could get sex.” Dick flinched. “But I bet you would enjoy that.”

A sick feeling rose in Dick’s stomach at the insinuation.

“I want to give you a pain that will last,” the man finished, eyes trailing over to Damian.

The goon that was holding his brother down had moved his arm around Damian’s neck, forcing his chin up and back. It would take almost nothing to break his neck.

Dick forced himself to shove aside his panic and think. This was personal; the man wanted to cause pain. He needed to keep the man’s attention off Damian until help could arrive. “Who are you?” Dick asked.

The rat-faced man turned to him with bared teeth. “My name is Norman Darth, and you’re the reason my wife left me.”

Dick blinked a few times, stalling while he racked his brain for why the name was familiar. Norman’s face grew darker as he waited for some kind of reaction. It was that look that reminded Dick where he had seen him before: caught for embezzling charity money, back during Dick’s BPD days.

“I’m sorry to hear about your wife,” he said, trying to sound sincere but firm. “You don’t have to do this.”

Norman sneered. “You don’t get it! I loved her!” He snapped his fingers, and the goons around him straightened their posture. “It’s your fault I lost the person I loved. Now it’s going to be my fault you lose yours.”

Dick didn’t think. The goon was adjusting his grip on Damian’s knife, aiming the blade down his neck. The man wanted revenge, and on such short notice Dick only saw one option.

Pretend he didn’t care.

“So, what? You’re going to threaten me with him?”

The goon frowned, and the knife pressed in, just enough to draw a drop of blood. “Don’t test me,” he warned.

“Shut up,” Norman barked. “Just kill him. Make it slow.”

Dick laughed. Damian startled at the sound, and it made it nearly impossible for Dick to keep the tremble out of his own voice. “Go ahead, do your worst. See if I care.”

The goon’s hand hesitated, not pushing any deeper into Damian’s neck. After a moment, Norman held up a hand to call him off. “You’re bluffing,” he said, almost phrasing it like a question.

Bingo.

Dick scoffed. “That would be stupid.”

“He cared about him in the van,” the big man, the one Dick had thought had been the leader, said. “Got real protective.”

Norman pursed his lips, considering Dick coldly. “Cut him,” he said, instead. “Nowhere lethal, yet.”

The man holding Damian dropped the blade to Damian’s bound arm and pierced Damian’s jacket and shirt. Norman didn’t even look back, instead raising an eyebrow at Dick’s non-reaction to the knife running down Damian’s arm like it were warm butter. Not too deep, but deep enough it definitely hurt. Maybe even deep enough to scar.

Damian managed not to make a sound, a fact that didn’t comfort Dick. What he could see of the kid’s face and body was clenched tight, trying to stay still so as not to disturb the weapon trailing along his body.

“Threatening him won’t get you what you want,” Dick promised. He didn’t know how he kept his tone so even. “He’s not worth that much.”

The man suddenly twisted the blade, opening the wound in Damian’s upper arm further. Damian yelped this time, the sound muffled by the duct tape over his mouth.

Dick managed not to flinch.

“Damn, you really don’t care about him, do you?” One of the other goons in the room asked. “Is that what money does to you?”

“He’s not my kid,” Dick said, shrugging. The words already tasted bitter in his mouth. “I’m just stuck with him.”

Damian sucked in a sharp breath. It had nothing to do with the man removing the knife and everything to do with Dick’s words.

Dick had to look away. “I only watch him because Bruce asked me to.”

A pregnant pause followed the words.

“I don’t believe you,” Norman said. He was not convincing.

Dick made eye contact, pointedly ignoring the small hands, clenched into tight fists across from him. “If I knew where his mom was,” he said, feeling his chest tighten at the words, “I’d send him back.”

Norman studied his face, his expression a deep frown of disgust. “You’re a terrible father,” he spat.

“I’m not—” Dick started, ready to continue the ruse for as long as it took to keep the attention off Damian. But he was cut off when the wall next to them fell away, nearly crushing two of the goons underneath.

Spoiler stepped through the door. “Sorry we’re late. Traffic was terrible.”

Black Bat followed her into the room, her silence speaking for itself.

Damian was suspiciously quiet for the entire ride back to the Cave. Dick tried to get him to let him take a look at his arm, which was still bleeding under the field dressings that Cass had applied, but Damian had brushed away his attempts with a curt “Pennyworth will take care of it.”

Okay, so the kid was being a little more moody than usual. Understandable, since he had spent the last several hours immobile, blind, and silenced. Dick didn’t push it.

But when the behavior continued into the next day, and then the day following that, he grew worried. Damian was avoiding him, for some reason. He spent his time tucked away in his own room, and he didn’t engage in conversation over dinner. Damian had always been. . . prickly, but Dick had thought they were making progress. This was something new.

They needed to talk.

Dick finally got his chance when he found Damian on the manor’s lawns, walking Titus. Dick fell into step eagerly. “Hey, Damian.”

“Tt.” Damian didn’t even look over at him. He didn’t actively try to get away, though, either, and Dick took that as an invitation.

“Nice weather, huh?”

“It is raining.”

“I know.” Dick brushed his wet hair back. “It’s nice.”

“Tt.”

They walked in silence for several minutes, and it drove Dick crazy that he couldn’t read whether it was companionable or awkward. When Titus found a spot to squat, Dick seized the opportunity. “I think we need to talk.”

“Were we not talking earlier?”

“No, something’s up.” Dick studied Damian’s impassive face. “Is something bothering you?”

“No,” was Damian’s immediate reply. But Dick had learned Damian’s tells, and he caught the way the boy’s hands flexed.

“Are you sure?” Dick prompted, gently. “You can tell me if something’s wrong. I won’t be mad.”

Damian stared at the ground, letting the hood of his rain jacket obscure his expression for him. “You do not have to pretend with me, any longer,” he declared.

Dick bit his tongue, tasting the words. “Pretend?”

“I am here only for training,” Damian continued. “You are not obligated to be involved in my life otherwise.”

“Obligated?” Dick asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Damian finally looked up at him, and he wore a stony expression. “You confessed your feelings towards me to Darth,” he said. “Did you really mean that?”

All of the blood fell out of Dick’s face. He felt nauseous again, like he had been freshly chloroformed. “No.”

Damian looked away again, his shoulders tight. “Okay.”

“No, Damian.” Dick grabbed his shoulders to spin him around. “I know we don’t always get along, but I care about you.”

To his surprise, Damian’s eyes were shining. “You would not send me back to mother, if you had the chance?”

Dick pulled Damian in for a hug, holding him tight and tucking head under his chin. “Never,” he said, squeezing harder in hopes it would press the words into Damian’s psyche. “You’re too important to me.”

Damian didn’t pull away.

In fact, Damian leaned into the hug, maybe for the first time ever.

“I love you,” Dick repeated.

“Tt.”

Dick smiled, understanding what went unsaid.

#dick&damiweek2021 #dick & damian #batfam #dick grayson #damian wayne #fido writes

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the-coffee-story · 3 years

Text

Rise of the Forest God

Chapter 17 - Professor Tally Winchester

Winchester Hall was a beautiful, dark Victorian mansion á lá Addams Family that rested proudly upon the tallest hill around. The windows, grey with age and dust were tall and skinny and a rusted iron gate, with weathered carvings now indistinguishable rested half swallowed by dirt and uncut blades of long dry grass. The whole thing blended rather well with the crawling forest behind it.

The team was waiting by the gate, curious and giddy with half-numbed nervousness.

"Well, now I'm definitely interested," Walther commented, peeking through the towering, rusted gate. "This looks like it's haunted by at least three ghosts who died a horrible death. They never found the heads."

October laughed.

"Seriously October, imagine the Addams Family's mansion, now scale it down a little."

He raised an eyebrow. "Can't wait for Morticia to pop out."

"Well, Morticia was definitely not on the phone," Violet noted.

Suddenly, the carved, dark-oak door that rested comfortably in the centre of the home's front opened, and a young man peeked out, adjusting his glasses as he took a moment to assess the situation. After a few moments passed, he noticed the team waiting by the gate, waved to wordlessly grab their attention, and quickly scuttled over.

Tally Winchester was a medium-heighted, slender and bald individual with large, wildly blue eyes behind thick glasses and a countless amount of scattered silver piercings dotted in and around his earlobe. Despite the fact that it was it had just dawned early spring, his skin was sunburnt and tanned, as if he spent most of his days somewhere lost outside. He walked with a noticable limp, and Walther didn't need to wait long for an explanation, when a prosthetic briefly appeared between his worn brown converse sneakers and faded jeans.

"Hi!" He flashed a toothy smiled at the group and opened the gate. "Great to see you, I'm Professor Tally Winchester!" He shook everyone's hands as they trickled past. The sleeves of his petrol flannel were rolled up, revealing a rather out-of-place, faded tattoo of a crawling lizard and a bunch of old scars. "You can call me Tally though."

Violet held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Violet, we talked on the phone."

"Great to meet you all!" He grinned. "Are you coming inside?"

***

"Before anyone asks, I inherited the house," Tally explained while leading them upstairs. "It's rotten and I hate it and the bills are a naked horror but I doubt I can find anything that has more capacities for a library." He opened a door. "Intrate, everyone."

"Remarkable," Doc commented.

Remarkable was indeed an understatemt. The room they'd entered was a library- with a beautiful brick fireplace and huge windows that let in the sparse afternoon sun, bookshelves brushed against the webbed ceiling and sunk into every wall. The floor was carpeted, through incredibly uncomfortable to walk on, and the furniture antique. One wall was plastered with photographs and notes.

"Nice," Walther mumbled, taking the second to once again soak in their surroundings.

Tally grinned, idly brushing aside pages and old notes compromised of incomprehensible scribbles and drawings. His teeth were somewhat crooked. "I didn't replace any of the furniture, but I did sell a chunk of the old books. There was just no space for mine." He closed the door behind them. "So anyway, you wanted to know about the cult?"

"There's been a bunch of murders in Forest Lane that were eerily similar to what it did, so yeah." Thasfield shrugged his broad shoulders. "We suspect the cult might be involved."

"Oh, I heard about that on the news!" Tally sorted the files on the table until he found what he was looking for. Then he looked up. His face was serious now. "At this point I'd like to admit I have a slightly selfish motivation in this."

"What is it?", Violet asked.

"You see..." Tally leaned against the table. "For context, I'm a history professor, but my focus is on cryptids and modern legends. Historical context, potential explanations, yada yada. A few years ago I stumbled across the legend of the Forest God."

Walther's face lit up. "Oh, I remember that story, my parents used to tell it to me when I was a kid! This one guy got lost in the woods, was found dead and after his funeral his reanimated corpse came home and his wife who loved him very, very much-" They side-eyed Violet and Coffee, who in turn glared back. "-couldn't accept that maybe it's not exactly normal that your husband's corpse is vibing around, then after a while he started killing people, then he killed her and then the neighbours buried him in an iron casket in the woods so he would stop randomly murdering people. Right?"

"You summed it up." Tally nodded.

"But who believes in that?!" Violet frowned. "I mean... it's just a legend, right? Somebody finally snapped, had a rough week or something, and people straight up believe his bullshit?"

"He came back from the dead and started murdering people, Violet," Doc commented.

She shrugged dismissively. "We've all been there."

"I don't want to meet you after a bad week," Tally remarked with mild discomfort, absentmindedly flipping through pages of notes and nonsense. "The existence of the man who allegedly became the Forest God is proven. His name was Eustace Wyndham and if you ask me he had rabies and some things were added for drama. But that's not even relevant, because the cult came almost a hundred years later." He slid around the table and opened another scattered file. "1969 they started to worship the Forest God. At first it was nothing special, you know, just the average college student nonsense." He held up an old photograph, subtle wonder in his eyes as he stared into it, before handing it to Walther. "Here, you can take a look at this! That's the entire cult. The guy in purple with the long hair is one of the founders. The other founder left in 1970 after getting a bad feeling about the whole thing. I caught him for an interview five years ago. Lovely guy, sadly died of cancer shortly after. It's a shame. You can pass the photo around! Notice how they're all wearing cow parsley wreaths. That was the flower associated with the Forest God and the flower scattered all over their murder victim's body, or rather what was left of it."

"All the victims had cow parsley in their mouth," Doc realized, dragging a hand up to rest in his soft ginger curls, staring blankly into the distance, thinking.

Tally nodded hastily. "Exactly! And now please look at what I found on my windowsill this morning!"

He limped over to the tallboy, half relying on the nearby furniture for support. Leaning down and throwing open a drawer, after a short while of sifting through papers and photographs, he took out something else. Then he held it up.

It was a wreath of cow parsley.

"That's....not good," Walther murmured after a long moment of stunned silence.

Tally nodded, twirling the flowers between his thumb and forefinger. "You get it. You know..." He leaned heavily against a dusty, worn table and heaved a small sigh. "When Wilhelm called me at first I was very sceptical of it all. I'm not a group project person, if you know what I mean. But this is just the tip of the ice berg and I have a feeling that I might be next, so I decided to work with you." He shrugged his shoulders.

While he'd been talking, Coffee had been furiously typing. He handed Tally his phone and Tally read it out loud.

" 'How about we use you as a bait?' Um... Can you...can you please explain what exactly you mean? That doesn't sound particularly safe-!"

He handed Coffee's phone back to him, paranoid he might accidentally drop it, and the detective started typing an answer, this time with significantly more determination.

Hear me out. So my idea was basically that tonight we let the killer come, but were going to be prepared. In other words, we gather a big group that's going to protect you, and we're going to arrest the murderer once he's here. What do you think?

Tally hesitated for a short moment and chewed his lip, opening his mouth to reply, then closing it again.. "I mean... I guess you have a point, sooner or later he's going to get me either way."

"I mean, let's be real, you can't run forever," Thasfield said, leaning forwards. "Even if you move, it's still going to take a while, and judging by what we know you're being pretty actively stalked, so it's quite possible he'll just follow you and then you'll be killed by a Forest God in a hotel room in Central Graytown. Which probably makes for an interesting plotline in a noir film, but we're talking real life here and I highly doubt you're so keen on landing in the morgue anytime soon. Although the Doctor is an expert at autopsies."

Doc smirked.

".........yeah," Tally admitted. He sat down on the table and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, that sounds...icky but realistic." He closed his eyes took a deep breath. "Alright. Who's gonna be on this team?"

Doc's phone's rang loudly to shake up their newfound confidence, and he excused himself, stepping back into the dusty hallway to take the call.

"I mean, most of us for starters," Violet said. "But I was also thinking of grabbing Gary Fox and Wilhelm. Strength in number, you know?"

Doc eventually came back to the group. His weathered face was stricken with subtle anxiety. "Bad news."

"What is it?", Walther asked.

"Alice found her mailman by the stables."

Walther frowned. "Okay, and what's so special about that?"

"His left arm was by the stables. The rest of him was scattered across the field."

"Dear God, is he okay?"

"He's okay, but he's dead." Doc turned to Tally, lowering his voice just enough. "Can we settle on tonight?"

Tally nodded. His sunburnt face had notably paled, turning his skin a somewhat pasty yellow. "Sure. What time are y'all coming?"

"Is five o'clock alright with you?"

Tally shrugged his shoulders. "Sure."

#reviews are welcome ;)#remember to listen to the song #the coffee story #rise of the forest god

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aizawaskittenwhore · 3 years

Text

𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

words:3.7k

pairing: aizawa x fem!reader

warnings: tw mention of blood, tw mentions of death, mentions of drugs in case you forgot this is a cartel au, murder, swearing, keigo being a cocky lil fucker, sexual harassment towards the end cause yakuza men suck

rating: 18+ cause shit gets real this chapter

a/n: i FINALLY FINISHED IT FUCK YES chapter two mothafuckas!!! i’ve been having so much fun brainstorming everything to come, and here you’re gonna really get a feel for how big this cartel is. player two, f/n l/n, you’re up! <3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝’𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 ↳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

September 13th, 2181

2:56pm

Musutafu, Japan

“Hold the fuck up. This doesn’t make any sense, I mean—these are Pros. Well known and well respected Pros, at that. The hell would they be tryna’ run a fucking cartel for?!?” Ken Takagi (more commonly known as Rock Lock) rubbed the bridge of his nose in confusion, not understanding the motive or correlation. “I mean think about it. These motherfuckers got more money than they know what to do with. Endeavor is a shareholder in goddamn Nintendo, Hawks owns his own fucking agency and line of sports cars, and I could’ve sworn I saw Eraser getting Shinsou fitted for a fucking Cuban on his birthday a few months ago. It’s not like they’re strapped for cash these days.” Ken huffed, the agent’s arms crossed as he leaned back in the conference chair.

In an attempt to try and broaden the range on your current investigation, your department recruited the help of several Pros to provide reinforcements in Japan, the States, and wherever else sales were being made. Going undercover was already plenty dangerous, and going alone was the equivalent of signing your own death warrant. Enlisting the help of Rock Lock, Ryukyu, Miruko, Fatgum, Edgeshot and plenty of others was relatively easy; these were Heroes that had experience with smugglers and narcotics-based operations, so when you’d approached them with the task at hand, they’d happily agreed.

However, some needed more convincing than others.

“Takagi. Think about it. Sure, they may not be living paycheck to paycheck, but look at the timeline.” You state, looking over your shoulder towards the holographic board displaying an interactive timeline of the investigation, including photos, invoices and even audio recordings pulled from surveillance cameras. “Two years ago, we seized a truck containing approximately 78 kilograms of crack cocaine. When we questioned the driver on where he was taking it and where he got it from, he didn’t budge. Luckily for us, the dumbass wasn’t smart enough to avoid a paper trail, leaving the insurance documents in the glove compartment when we’d taken him into custody. The insurance company was under the name “Target Lance”, but after doing some digging on the name we found out the corporation went bankrupt six months before and was eventually bought out by Chevrolet.” Pausing to return to the screen welded to the wall behind you, your hands swiped as you searched for the file reading December 5th, 2178: A live video feed of a towering skyscraper being built, the building’s name reading “Chevrolet Corvette Inc.” as it hovered above tens of stories above each worker.

“But you all haven’t heard the name Chevy in a while right? That’s because two weeks after that building was built, the hundred-million dollar company was bought out by Takami Corporate-”

“-who owns Takami Motors. Which is the brand associated with the Peregrine Speedsters, Hawks’ damned sports car line.” Ken finished for you, brown spheres twinkling in sudden clarity. “Now you’re speaking my language.” You nod, hands waving as you continue to brief the room of Pros.

“The Todoroki and Nintendo console collaboration didn’t happen until about earlier this year, March to be specific. Which is quite convenient..since around that time the price of cocaine per gram stabilized in both America and Japan, rising from $112 to $138 bucks a pop. I’m nobody to speak on looks either, but for as long as we’ve known of him, Eraser has dressed like a depressed college student with insomnia that doesn’t understand the concept of soap or a pair of clippers. Now he’s got his wife in Cartier bracelets and getting his shirts tailored because the collar “doesn’t allow him enough room for his capture weapon”?!? Bullshit.” You huff, stifling a smile as you watch Miruko and Edgeshot snicker in their seats at your...blunt observation.

“It makes sense. Three years ago all our agencies, including those overseas, started cutting our checks down by half. They can barely afford to pay us a quarter of what we used to make, and these guys are making these lavish purchases while we all starve?? No way. Something’s fishy, and it’s damn sure not this takoyaki.” Fatgum spat, hands quivering with rage as he struggled to grasp the food with his chopsticks.

“Fatgum’s right. Hero unemployment is at a staggering 8.7 percent. Meanwhile, these men are spending money like it’s going out of style. It makes no sense.” Miruko pondered, Ryukyu folding her hands in her lap as she voiced her approval for immediate action. Edgeshot nodded in agreement, brows furrowed in frustration at this blatant disregard for the law. “So we’re all in agreement that our own people have resorted to breaking the law. Cool, got it. Question is, why? And what the hell are we gonna do about it?” Ken demanded, his patience having worn thin from all this speculation.

“Good question. I think they’re trying to take advantage of the tough spot the Hero Commission is in right now, manipulate that vulnerability and use it for their own gain. They’re not invulnerable to the tough times Pros are facing in the workforce. So they’ve gotten together to try and make it work for them, even if it means breaking the law.” You query, hands typing furiously at the virtual screen to pull up the files of each Hero, displaying all the current information on them from their blood type to each known family member. “These three banding together though? Along with other people? There’s no way. They hate each other. Or at the very least couldn’t get anything done even if they did have a common goal in mind.” Edgeshot murmured lowly.

“I thought so too. But then it hit me: it’s not just some flimsy group project. Sure, crime has gone up since the formation of this cartel, but nobody who holds any rank has been murdered or harmed in any way. No no no, these guys are singing in tune for now...which means there’s a damn good choir director among them. So I’ve volunteered to go undercover, work my way through this organization and figure out just how high up this goes.” You assert, shoulders rigid and chin aloft as the harnesses of your costume frame your figure.

“Alone?? Are you outta your goddamn mind? Let me go, you’ll need back up-” Rock Lock sputters, hands fanning out in shock.

“No way. What about your wife, your kid?! This isn’t just some average drug bust, we’re dealing with powerful men in possession of superhuman abilities that have the game on lockdown. You’ve got too much to lose, more than any of us anyway. Edgeshot and I will go, we’ve seen the other side of the law before, and our quirks are better suited for stealth should anything go wrong.” You fire, eyes narrowing into slits. “The rest of you will be working in tandem with the DEA and our resources, and we’ll report back to you with all future developments. We’ll also need you to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, if we need it.”

A thick silence clogged the air, Ken settling back into his seat across the table. His amber eyes flickered in irritation before huffing in acceptance, the situation being out of his hands. All the conference participants’ gazes fixed in determination, some with anger. The tense aura weighed on everyone present before Miruko cleared her throat, ivory teeth gleaming in a smirk.

“Well we’ve got a solid plan. So all I wanna know is...when do we start?

June 2nd, 2182

In all honesty...you thought the nickname was just a sad attempt to stroke his ego. But seeing the way over seventy commercial-size planes and approximately 30 seaplanes sat aloft balmy concrete in the Guadalajara sun showed you exactly why they called Hawks “Lord of The Skies”. Arrays of laborers with avian-oriented quirks loaded kilo after kilo of coke on to each and every plane, some by hand and others by forklift. Welders were personally hand selected by Keigo himself to eliminate the issue of utilizing every available inch of space; each vessel having been stripped of everything from the seats to the built in mini-bars (much to Keigo’s chagrin). From where you stood in the scalding hot beams, the runway seemed to extend for miles as it brimmed with visible heat-waves.

Dressed in a simple black tank top, black biker type shorts, aluminum plated gauntlets, steel toed combat boots and harnesses that encapsulated the curves of your body before coming to a stop at your thighs, you silently rejoiced in the airflow your gear allowed you in spite of the color. The bandanna atop your hairline helped to absorb some of the sweat, which was a bonus.

“Not bad for a starter fleet huh? The wingspan on these babies almost makes me jealous.” A rich and decadent voice called from your left. Sleek carmine appendages and brassy blond hair entered your peripheral vision, giving way to the man who ran the show: Keigo Takami. Adorned in a pair of low rise denim jeans that were so incomprehensibly tight they accentuated every bit of his dick (which was likely intentional), a plain white tee and ebony cowboy boots that looked like they cost three times what you make in a week; he most definitely looked the part of the People Magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive” and Playboy’s “Player of the Month” titles he’d earned. Luminous olive skin glistened with sweat, droplets sliding down the deep v neck of his shirt with ease; the way the daisy-hued fabric stuck to his crafted abdomen leaving nothing to the imagination. Tourmaline and Argentium piercings dangled effortlessly from both ears, and if you weren’t so hell-bent on putting the motherfucker in jail you would’ve had no problem admitting how attractive he really was.

“Starter fleet? You’re about to put Delta out of business, look at this shit!” You guffaw, arms folded, an eyebrow raised in astonishment at his “humble” admission. “Flattery will get you everywhere, and then some.” Keigo chuckles, breath hot against your ear the instant he bends at the waist, hands settled in his pockets with that cocky aura about him.

“-And having your damn breath against my ear in 107 degree weather will, respectfully, get you my foot up your ass. I didn’t fly down here to get treated like one of your poor interns. I came here to make money, so let’s talk it.” You lash, the climbing tempature slicing your tolerance for bullshit to shreds.

“Shit. Straight to the point huh? I like it. You wanna talk shop, say no more. Over lunch though, I’m starving out here.” Keigo clicks his teeth with a grin, escorting the two of you towards the very jet he’d arrived in. “A little unknown fact about me, usually I hate flying ”conventionally”. Gives me anxiety, and I’m awful company when I’m nervous.”

Settling into the light taupe hued cabin, you observe the not-so-subtle elements of class. Ivory shochu bottles with intricate crystalline glasses to match, the bar fully stocked with gold accents along the upholstery. Plates of costly Kobe style beef rested atop spotless porcelain, romaine lettuce coupled with grilled applewood bacon, chicken, avocado and buttermilk dressing settled into envy-inducing black marble bowls. The plane was spacious, and certainly cost a pretty penny or two. “You’re upfront, so I’ll be honest with you. As of right now, this plane is the last thing I’m worried about-” Hawks mutters lowly, dijon eyelets tapering into thin slivers.

“-It’s the Shie Hassaikai making their encore appearance, and with the Colombians at that.”

You choke on a sip of Vega Sicilia, pupils dilating at the thought.

“Now you spoke about wanting to make some money, right?” You nod, heart rate steadily rising.

“What if I could offer you something more? Something of...extensive value.” Keigo drawled, dark undertone flooding the air like a thick smoke. “Like what, Takami?” You inquire.

“A seat at the table.” He shrugs, like one would if they were discussing something as trivial as ice cream flavors or Friday night plans, not the reorganization of a crime syndicate. “You’ve been workin’ for me shy of a year now right? Somethin’ like that? Anyway..”

He takes a deep, contemplative swig of the chestnut liquid, eyes boring into yours.

“You’re efficient, and you don’t take anyone’s shit. Good help’s hard to find in our line of work, and before you know it, this little hierarchy is gonna go under some..reorganization. Only the people who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty will have a place in the new order, so I want you there.”

“What’s the catch? I’m not dumb enough to just assume this is some promotion for busting my ass.” You tread, brain working double-time to try and decipher just what Keigo’s getting at. “Clever girl. It’s a simple task, in and out.” He assures, middle and ring finger sliding a matte-finish photo across the mahogany. Displayed was Kinan Zango, a member of the Shie Hassaikai’s middle rankings shaking hands with Joaquin Fuentes, a Columbia native known for having a body count in the double digits.

“Another fact about me: Only one thing heightens my anxiety more than planes...people who fuck with my money. This asshole Kinan’s been selling my routes to the fucking Columbians and pocketing the profits, and getting 20% of the product as a little “thank you” when he knows nobody moves coke through the Gulf other than Takami fucking Keigo. He’s becoming a problem, and I don't like those.” Kei growls, left eye twitching minutely. His nails are sinking into the polish of the wood, his energy vehemently furious.

“Take care of this for me, and you’ll be my plus one to Guadalajara tomorrow.”

The general public often made the mistake of writing Keigo off as just your average “pretty boy”. Whereas a trained eye could see that while he may be pretty, he was nobody to be tested. The sheer intellect he possesses to seek, hand-craft each and every route, assign planes to their designated locations along with alternatives should there ever be an issue? He just didn’t get enough credit.

So he took major offense when someone had the audacity to treat his hard work as though it was theirs.

Besides.. you got a man with looks, money and bloodlust? Tch. You’ve just created a monster.

You weren’t necessarily opposed to the idea of ridding the world of another drug-dealing degenerate, but the idea of casually committing a murder as a DEA agent in a foreign country just didn't sit right with you. Undercover agents weren’t permitted a “license to kill” should the investigation call for it either, so it was between committing a murder as government agent, or declining Keigo’s request and missing out on a front row seat to the cartel’s entire operation.

The silence that followed his sentence was deafening. Ice cubes chimed loftily as they swirled around inside his glass, clear liquid sloshing around while he awaited an answer.

Your jaw sets, eyes piercing into his.

“Consider it done.”

Blood spattered onto the pale concrete, moonlight illuminating the scarlet hues. Your knuckles throbbed with pain, the sensation blossoming through your hand as your lips curled back in a snarl, vigorously ridding your hands of the other man’s bodily fluids.

“ If you really think coming after me for that bird brained motherfucker is gonna change anything, you got another thing fucking coming.” Kinan spat, nose steadily flowing with red. His lip was busted, face splotched with yellowing purple bruises. Tugging at his restraints he thrashed, mouth spewing white-hot venom.

“You’re talking a lot of shit for a middle-ranking yakuza who thinks some new coke routes is gonna keep the Hassaikai from dumping your body on the side of some road in Zacatecas.” You observe, sending a harsh kick between the mans ribs, steel toed boots making an audible crack. “The Japanese are like Dixie Cups to them...”‘use em’ once, then throw em’ away”, right? You’re a fool if you think your days aren't numbered once you wear out your welcome.”

“Fuck you. You’re little boy toy threw a temper tantrum, so he sent you to “take care of things”, isn’t that right?” Kinan coos, eyes softening in a mocking pout.

“Trust me, you're not the first slut Takami’s been sticking it in that he’s sent to kill me. Only difference between you and the rest of those bitches-” He huffs, head craning back against the metal chair to let our a soft breath of laughter. “-is that you’re gonna put up a fight.”

Suddenly his bones began to shift, popping and snapping as his skin began to pool below him; you recoiled in fear watching his body slowly slip from his imprisonment like gelatin exits a mold.

“I’ve got elastic bones kid! Whatever breaks just snaps right back into place.”

Skin stretching and pulling as he regained his original form, legs sprinting towards you. Before you could fire off your Quirk’s sonic blast his grip seized the back of your neck, a blade taking residence just below your left eye; it’s tip pressing uncomfortably into your water line.

“Now, if you're good, I’ll make it quick. Though I’m known for being pretty... through with my toys.” Kinan leers, a hand slowly slithering down your sides to reach for the muscle of your ass.

“Go to hell, and die there while you’re at it!” You shout.

Bile creeping into your throat, you seize the momentary shift in energy, generating a small sound wave that sent Kinan a few feet to your left; giving the two of you some distance. Your Quirk allowed you to absorb sound to power-up your physical movements, or send it out in the form of sonic blasts or sound waves, so the louder the sound, the more power it gave you. Readying your fists in anticipation for combat, you silently willed for a sudden disruption in the deafening silence as he rushed back to your rigid body.

What you didn’t anticipate was that the sudden bang that filled the air, and the lifeless body of Kinan dropping to your feet with a thud, his head...

excavated, for lack of a better word.

“Don’t you know the entire point of having backup while under cover is to... call for backup?” Edgeshot snarked, striding towards you, gun settled back into it’s holster. His foot carelessly nudged the bleeding man before removing a Polaroid camera from his knapsack and snapping a photo of the carnage.

“W-what the fuck?! Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful when I say this, but what the absolute fuck did you just do??? We’re government agents, in a foreign country, we can’t just fucking murder these assholes nor do we have the license to-” You sputter, brows arching in frustration.

“This was your ticket into Guadalajara. I just secured you box seats when you were this close to getting stuck in the damned nosebleeds. I believe the correct words you’re looking for are thank you.” Kamihara snaps, shoving the photo into your hand.

“We’re in a world completely different from our own. It’s forgiveness first, and permission later down here. I don’t like it either...but it’s just the way things are.” He sighs, hanging his head while his shoulders settled like the solar system rested on them.

“I’ll take care of this. Now take that to Hawks, and don’t you dare fuck it up. Don’t let me have killed this poor asshole in vain.”

You nod, stepping over Kinan’s body.

Good riddance.

“Thank you, by the way.” You putter. Kamihara returns the sentiment with a nod, before turning to the corpse before him, phone raised to his ear as he spoke with whoever was on the opposite line, eyes that were once grey now swam with deep scarlet.

“Excellent work! I won’t lie, I had a feeling you were hardcore, but damn, this is some seamless shit! You deserve my praise.” Keigo beams, pearly teeth sparkling in the light of the cabin. Nodding in acceptance you grasped his hand upon his offering, permitting him to escort you towards your respective aircraft.

“Well, a promise is a promise. And if nothing else, I’m most certainly a man of my word. Meet me at this airstrip same time tomorrow, 8am. Pack light, Mexico’s a bitch in the summer, though you already know that.”

“Got it. Pleasure doing business with you, Hawks.”

“Call me Keigo, if you want. I hate all the formal shit, long as we got respect, that's all I need.” He shrugs.

“Understood. See you tomorrow, Keigo.” You affirm, climbing the ladder to your jet, body visibly relaxing at the thought of rest.

“Wait--before you go, I wanted to ask ya. What’s with the whole ancient hieroglyphics tat you got goin on, on your spine? It just looks familiar, is all.” He queries.

Home.

November 12th, 2174.

“Y/N! I found somethin’! It’s this super cool protection rune I found in grandma’s things. Check it out! It wards off all evil, and whoever’s in possession of it can, like, balance their energy with the divine power.”

“You’re such a hippie, I swear to god.” You grin.

“Don’t hate because my chakras are balanced and yours aren’t, bitch.” She grinned, index and thumb coming together to flick your forehead.

“At least take it with you for your exam, for good luck! Pleaseeeee! I think it’ll really help.” Her doe eyes melting your steely resolve. You could never deny her, those eyes constantly solidifying her role as the younger sister.

“...Only if you’ll clean my room for me when I come back for Christmas.” You demand, an eyebrow raised in mirth.

“Deal.”

And even though you never did admit it to her, that tiny piece of paper tucked into your bra did more for you during that exam than any late night cram session ever could’ve.

“It’s a protection rune. To ward off all evil energies, spirits and all that shit.” You mutter.

“Hm. Looks like it works, seeing how well tonight panned out for ya. Could use me one, would probably keep old man Todoroki out my fuckin’ hair.” He chuckles, hands releasing from the railing as he threw you a wave.

“But I wouldn’t worry too much about tomorrow, anyway. I got a feeling you’re gonna fit in just fine with us.” He smirked.

Ah.

If only that were true, Keigo.

taglist! : @liliesoftherainmain @therealwalmartjesus

#aizawa x female reader #mha x reader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #mha #bnha x reader #hawks #nyafterhours

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castielific · 4 years

Text

Title: Fancy and the tramp

Story status: Complete, 8 chapters

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dean/Castiel, Alternate Universe, Fake boyfriends, pretend relationship, homeless!Dean, rich!Cas, family, angst with a happy ending, temporary breakup, getting back together, coming out, past!homophobia, self esteem issues, Dean Winchester has a sexuality crisis, first time, homelessness, bed sharing, pining

Sex tags: anal sex, switching, bottom!Cas, bottom!Dean, first time, frottage, marking, blowjob, fingering, barebacking

Special warning: Contrary to what the title may presage, there are no spaghettis in this story.

Summary:

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods.

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new fake boyfriend. What a weird day.

Link to AO3

Chapter 1 under the cut:

************

"Come on Ricky, you owe me that money!" Dean says on his phone, taking a step forward when the line of the coffee shop shortens.

"I don't owe you shit, Dean. You still owe me the last three months of your rent," his ex landlord says on the phone.

"And I'll pay you, you know I will. But to get the money, I need a job, and to get that job I need some new clothes and-"

"Yeah yeah, I know the deal. You think no one has told me that one before? No bueno, man, I'm keeping your deposit," Ricky grumbles.

Dean groans in frustration. "Come on, all I need is fifty dollars so I can buy a pair of pants without any holes in it. You give me fifty, I get the job and I pay you back, how does that sound?" he tries to negotiate.

"Like a fucking lie," Ricky spits just before hanging up.

"No Ric-fuck!"

The woman in front of him in line sends him a dark look. Dean rolls his eyes at her. Like she hasn't heard worse before.

Ricky was his last shot. It was a long one, he really does owe that bastard some serious money. Guess he can kiss the job interview at two goodbye. It's some kind of assistant job. It sounds easy enough, buying coffee and picking dry cleaning and stuff. It was still a long shot anyway. Dean's only real job experience is being a bagger boy when he was seventeen and it lasted about two months before his dad decided to move them further east.

So far, he'd always managed to get by doing repairs or cleaning at gas stops and motels. The older he gets and the harder it gets to find that kind of random job. People are more willing to give a few bucks in exchange for manual tasks to a kid than they are to a nearly thirty years old guy. Now they just tell him to fuck off.

And since it's always been casual and off the book, the only official work experience he has is the bagger thing. He doesn't even have a high school diploma because he dropped out long before that. Not exactly a stellar resume. Which explains why he hasn't found work in eight month and is currently living in his car. Thank God he has Baby.

He had been too ambitious thinking he could get his own place. It could only pay rent for about five months before he went broke. He's never had a home before, and had no idea that having an apartment cost so much. In motels, you don't exactly have to pay for water or heat or utilities. There was a bunch of stuff he hadn't planned for that ate up the last of his meagre savings. Ricky threw him out after three months when Dean couldn't scrape up enough money to pay rent anymore, putting a violent stop to Dean's pipe dream of living a normal life. He hoped it would be simpler to get a job if he had an actual address, had even thought about scrapping up enough to maybe get his GED. He's not sure what he's going to do now.

He's always wanted to be a mechanic. If his dad ever taught him anything, it was how to take care of the Impala. John taught him all the basics and Dean got the knack of it. As a teen, he spent days reading car magazines and working on the Impala, trying to learn as much as he could about how cars worked and how to repair the different parts. He knows enough by now that he could easily work in a garage, but he's got no diploma, and hasn't found anyone willing to hire him on faith alone.

The line of the coffee shop shortens again, the barista asking her order to the goody-two-shoes in front of him. Dean looks regretfully at the display of sandwiches. He searches his pockets and only comes up with three dollars. Of course, the cheapest piece of food cost four dollars. Dean sighs. Guess just a coffee will have to do today.

He won't have another choice but to go to the soup kitchen tonight. He hates it there. The food is crap and he wants to punch the prancy people serving it. They always try to give him some Jesus bullshit with his food, like Jesus is ever gonna put a roof over his head and find him a decent job. Neither Jesus nor God nor whatever gives a crap about him. Not that he blames them. Hell, if they exist they're probably not big fans of the guy that used to slip into church as a kid to pick the lock of the donation box

"Just an americano, please," Dean says regretfully when the barista asks for his order. At least it will keep him warm and fill his stomach for a short while.

Halloween just went by and the weather is becoming really cold. He should use the last of Baby's tank to go as far south as he can before winter really hits. He probably won't get farther than Wichita though, and the thought makes him shiver. No one wants to get stuck for a winter in Wichita. Maybe he could go and see if he can make a few bucks at the nearest motel, that kind of place always needs a handyman's help. He hasn't tried the one on Corn Street yet. He's noticed only two lights are still working on their sign, he could offer to help with that. If he makes fifty bucks, he might be able to reach Austin.

Dean stops on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, pondering if he should walk to the bar a few streets down or the motel. Sometimes Benny, the owner of the bar, lets him use the sink in the back to wash up. If he's lucky, he'll even get some leftovers from last night. It's generally just some stale pretzels, cold fries on good days, but it's still better than nothing. He's got two cans of beans and a car with an near empty tank to his name right now, so he's not picky.

Dean takes a look at his watch. It's eleven thirty already, the leftovers are probably already in the trash at Benny's. The motel is probably his best bet.

"I'll give you a hundred dollars if you pretend to be my boyfriend." comes a hoarse voice, way too close to his ear.

Dean jumps, nearly spilling his coffee on himself. He spins to the right to face the man who just talked and is met with a pair of clear blue eyes. Way too close again. He waits a second for the man to take a step back as he realises as close Dean turning brought them, but the guy just continues to stare at him, head slightly tilted to the side. He's wearing an oversized trench coat over a dark blue suit that looks expensive. He's so close a gust of wind makes the bottom of his coat brushes Dean's shin.

"Dude, personal space," Dean reproaches, taking a step back. "And fuck off, I don't swing that way," he adds, not meanly. It's not the first time he's getting hit on by a dude. Sadly, not even the weirdest. He's strictly into chicks though, so no dice.

"Two hundred bucks," the man insists. He looks ready to fall on his knees and beg, eyes going wider and wider as he throws a panicked look to the right of Dean's shoulder. "It won't take more than ten minutes and all you have to do is nod along," he begs, making Dean wonders if he's in danger somehow. Maybe he has a stalker or an abusive ex?

Dean follows his eyes to a woman coming closer. She's very elegant in a grey pantsuit and a long white fur coat as she walks straight toward them. He can feel her eyes judging him even from thirty feet away, looking at him from head to toes. If he wasn't already self-aware of the number of holes in his jeans, he would definitely be under that gaze.

"Five hundred dollars," the other man whispers just as the blond woman reaches them.

"Castiel, dear, you should have told me we would have company, I would have notified the restaurant," the woman says, sending a clearly disapproving look toward Dean as she deposits a kiss on the other man's - (Castiel, apparently, what kind of name is that??) - cheek.

"Mother, let me introduce you to my boyfriend," Castiel says, looking ill at ease. He's obviously not a very good liar.

Dean blinks a few times as their attention turns toward him. Castiel seems to be trying to communicate something with his eyes, and Dean frowns in incomprehension for a moment before he gets the hint.

"Huh. Dean. Winchester," he finally says. "Ma'am," he adds when she just continues to stare at him like he has grease smeared all over his face. He's pretty sure that she wouldn't want to touch his hand if he were to offer it to shake, so he doesn't.

"Naomi Novak," she introduces herself. "What a delight to finally meet Castiel's new companion," Naomi says, her deadpan tone contradicting her words. "Of course, I would have preferred not to be ambushed by such an announcement. Castiel, you know, that Le Délice hates it when we change our reservation last minute. Who knows if they will even have a table for three," she declares, already composing a number on her phone.

"It's okay, mother, Dean won't be joining us for lunch."

"Oh, is it because your attire isn't appropriate?" Castiel's mother asks, looking at the holes in Dean's jeans and the big leather jacket that used to be his dad's. "I assure you they won't say a word about it if you're with us," she reassures.

Dean squirms a little, wondering what the hell is even happening. Ten minutes ago he was buying a coffee and going at his day like a perfectly normal person (well, albeit a homeless and jobless one). Now, his fashion sense is being criticized by the mother of a man who is pretending to be his boyfriend. Did a piano fall on his head or something? Has he finally lost his mind?

He looks to the man beside him. He's scratching the side of his neck in nervousness. The move makes his coat fall a little over his wrist, revealing a freaking Rolex watch. Dean looks back to the woman, eyes sliding on her diamond earrings and the huge rock around her neck.

You know what? That's not okay. His stomach has been crying for food since last morning, and he's what? Supposed to help this stranger by saying no to free lunch at one of the most prestigious restaurants in town? Fuck no. He's gonna eat like a king and make a few hundred bucks off the back of those rich assholes.

"In that case, it would be my pleasure to join you," Dean announces with his most charming smile.

"What?" Castiel can't help but bark. "But y-your work thing?" he tries, sweating. The round panic eyes are back. Dean sends him his best shit eating grin. They both know he now either has to invite this stranger to lunch or reveal the lie to his mother. The guy is trapped and may as well continue to play along.

"It's not as important as a chance to finally get to know your mother, honey," Dean answers. "He's told me so many nice things about you, Naomi. Can I call you Naomi?"

"Of course, dear," Naomi says. She looks a little wide eyed too, probably thrown by Dean turning on the charm to the max.

"Perfect! We shall go now, we don't want to miss your reservation. I do hope it won't be too much of a bother for them to add a chair to your table," Dean says. He should probably tone it down with the pompous tone, because he nearly added an English accent here.

Naomi leads the way, and Dean is going to follow when a hand grabbing his arm makes him fall a few steps behind.

"What the hell are you doing?" Castiel hisses.

"Acting as your boyfriend?" Dean says innocently. By Castiel's glare, he's not fooled.

"I asked you to nod silently for ten minutes, not to do method acting for a whole meal," he reproaches. Naomi sends a look behind her shoulder and Castiel smiles at her like there is no worries, indicating for her to lead the way,

Dean shrugs. "I had some free time."

"I'm not giving you more money than planned, if that's your goal," Castiel says with a suspicious squint.

"I'm fine with the five hundred as long as you're also paying for lunch," Dean says, wiggling his eyebrows as they walk toward the restaurant. Something passes on Castiel's face that Dean can't quite identify. The other man stares at him for so long that it's a wonder he doesn't trip. He finally relents with a long suffering sigh as they enter 'Le Délice'.

Apparently, Naomi Novak is prominent enough that they don't mind changing her reservation after all. They're seated at a table near a legit indoor fountain. Dean is looking around, trying not to let show how impressed he is by the place. The walls are made of stone and covered in frescos that he always thought you couldn't see outside of a church or castle. A waiter gives him a leather covered menu and Dean opens it eagerly. After a few niceties to Naomi, they're asked what they want to drink. Dean has an inkling that he probably shouldn't ask for a beer in an establishment like this.

"Same for me, please," he says after Castiel ordered some wine with a name Dean can't pronounce. At least, he hopes that's wine. Who knows. Hell, in this place the bottles of water are probably more expensive than his usual brand of beer.

Dean starts to second guess his decision when he realizes that the menu is in french. What is it with rich people and France? He just wants a damn steak, how do you say that in french? Is there even steaks here or is it just frog legs and snails? Oh god, he hopes not.

"I think I'll take the duck today," Naomi notes. "Nobody cooks it better than chef Francis. How about you Dean? Have you ever come here before?" There is a mean glint in her eyes that says she knows perfectly well he hasn't. Hell, from the side eyes he got from everyone as they crossed the room, everyone here knows he's not from their world. There are three holes in his jeans, threads hanging from the bottom and his dad's leather jacket probably should have ended up in the trash about three years ago. Even now, it's still too big for him and the sleeves are so scruffed that they're nearly paper thin. The original dark brown color has turned to a light beige in most places from wear. His scruff is just the bad side of too long now, and he hasn't had a haircut since April, strands starting to fall into his eyes. At least, he's wearing his best plaid shirt and managed to wash up last night, so he's not smelling too rank. Why would Castiel pick him out of all the people in the street at that moment to play his boyfriend? It makes no sense at all. From the guy's obvious discomfort as he hides behind his menu, he probably realizes it.

"Actually, Naomi, duck sounds like a delicious idea," Dean says, voluntarily ignoring her question. To be honest, he’s never even eaten duck before, but it's poultry so it probably taste like chicken. You can't go wrong with chicken, right? His stomach certainly likes the idea, gurgling so loudly that he has to hide it behind a cough.

Castiel ends up ordering some fish and soon their drinks arrive. Dean barely has time to sip at his red wine before Naomi pounces.

"So, tell me everything, how did you two meet?"

Dean nearly chokes on his drink. Castiel seems to gulp down his whole glass.

"We met at a coffee shop. Dean was in line in front of me and we started to talk," Castiel explains, not quite meeting anyone's eyes.

"How quaint!" Naomi exclaims, clasping her hands in delight. "I'm just sorry that you didn't tell me about it sooner, Castiel. How long have you been keeping this charming man a secret?"

"Not-," Castiel clears his throat, "-not long."

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you Dean. I sure wish this luncheon will give me the chance to learn everything about you."

Luncheon? Who even talks like that outside of Downton Abbey?

"I do hope I'll get to keep some mystery, we wouldn't want this guy to lose interest," Dean says with a wink. He pats Castiel's hand on the table. Should he hold it or something? How open on PDA are gay people those days? Not that he knows more about how heterosexual couple act in public anyway, especially in those crowds. It's probably safer to keep the PDA to a minimum here.

"You have to at least tell me some things. For one, what career path are you on?" She looks like a shark circling her prey.

"I'm a mechanic," he lies. He'd rather stay as close to the truth as possible. It's a little unfair that Castiel is letting him do all the talking when his initial demand was that he stayed silent, especially since it's his skin that Dean is apparently saving, but the guy looks like he's swallowed a potato whole.

"Oh, that's...interesting," Naomi says in that insincere tone of hers. She looks like he told her he was fucking children’s corpses every full moon. He's two seconds away from telling her that he's actually jobless, penniless, and homeless, just to see her face, when Castiel intervenes.

"How is Anna's engagement party coming on?"

Thankfully, this seems to be a subject Naomi loves because she tells them about every aspect of the future party all the way through their meal.

Duck, as it turns out, is actually very good. It's more like red meat than chicken, which is a great surprise. Although, Dean isn't a fan of the way rich people put tiny quantities of food in very large plates. He eats all the dinner rolls and scrapes every single bit of sauce out of his plate, yet he's still hungry by the end of it. He nearly starts crying when the waiter asks them if they'll take dessert and Naomi declines. He's starting to wonder if that little piece of duck was worth sitting through lunch with her.

"That sounds like you're turning this into a wonderful event, mother, Anna must be delighted," Castiel compliments.

"Oh, you know your sister," Naomi waves it off. "It sure feels like a nice opportunity to introduce your new beau to everyone."

Dean frowns. What's a beau? Is that him? That's not him, right?

"I wouldn't dare take any attention away from Anna," Castiel tries to refuse.

"Don't be daft, you know your sister won't care. Everyone will be so happy that you've finally found-" she passes a long look, over Dean, like she's doubting anyone would actually approve of him. She certainly doesn't seem to, "-someone," she finishes lamely.

"Oh shoot, I don't think I'm available that night," Dean tries to play off.

"I'm not sure I've told you the date of it yet."

"Cas did," he says. The other man perks up at the surname, but whatever, 'Castiel' is a mouthful. "And I have this huh work thing, you know? Bummer," Dean says with a fake pout.

"What kind of 'work thing' can a mechanic possibly have on a Saturday evening?"

Dean tenses up, pursing his lips. "One he can't get out of?"

"Nonsense, you're coming," Naomi brushes off. And that is that apparently. Shit. There is a vein about to pop on Castiel's forehead. "Castiel, dear, you look a little white. Was the fish okay?"

"I-Yeah-I-Actually, do you think we could possibly cut our lunch short? I am indeed feeling quite unwell."

"Of course, my dear," Naomi says, leaning forward until her hand touches his forehead. "You're as clammy as a fish. I should come home with you, and make sure you're okay," she announces, taking her napkin off her lap and deposing it on the table, ready to stand up.

"No!" Castiel stops her, a little too brusquely. "I-Dean will take good care of me, don't worry," he says, getting up and grabbing Dean's arm so he does so too. Dean follows his lead, all too happy to get out of here. "Stay and enjoy your tea, mother."

"If you say so," Naomi says, sending an unsure look at Dean, obviously upset at being brushed off in his favor. "Call me this evening, or I'll worry all night."

"Of course, mother," Castiel acquiesces, kissing her cheek. Dean hovers behind him. Is he supposed to kiss her too? Wave hello? Shake her hand?

"Dean," she says as what is apparently a sufficient goodbye. Thank God. "I'll be sure to see you on Saturday," she reminds just as they're walking away.

Cas turns on him as soon as they're outside the restaurant.

"What was that?!" he asks, not quite yelling. He starts pacing, rubbing a hand through his already pretty ruffled hair.

"You owing me five hundred bucks? Dude, you're lucky I don't charge you more for the fresh hell I just lived through."

"You went through hell? You?!" his pacing gets faster and Dean has an idea that if he stops pacing he might punch him in the face.

"That's what you get for asking this kind of stuff from a perfect stranger," Dean shrugs, pushing a pebble with the point of his shoe. His red sock is peeking out from a tiny hole near his big toe. It's such a contrast to how grand everything and everyone looked in there. It's making him feel like shit. He's maybe feeling a tiny bit guilty for trapping Castiel like that too. He doesn't seem like a bad guy, albeit one with a psycho mom.

Cas turns on him, eyes glaring and mouth open in what will probably be a flow of reproaches. He stops himself before he says anything though, seeming to deflate. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe instead, shoulders falling. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should be thanking you. I have no right to make you any reproach when I brought this on myself."

"It wasn't so bad, though, was it? I mean, I think I sold it?" Dean asks, a little hesitant. He even used pedantic talk and everything.

"You did as well as could be expected."

"That's not much of a compliment…".

"I shouldn't take more of your time," Cas apologizes, taking his wallet out. Dean goggles at the amount of cash in there.

"You really shouldn't have that much cash on you, that's, like, asking for trouble."

Castiel squints at him like he's wondering if that means Dean is gonna rob him for a moment, before he hands him a wad of cash.

Dean's eyes bulge out, "That's way more than five hundred dollars."

"There's also an advance in there to buy some clothes for the engagement party."

"The what now?" Dean blinks dumbly for a second until his brain catches up to what is happening. "Dude, no, I'm done!"

"You were the one to push it so far in the first place," Castiel reminds. Accuses, really.

"I just wanted to eat fancy food, okay! Not, like, go steady."

"There will be lots of food at my sister's engagement party," Castiel tries to persuade. Badly.

Dean gives him a nonplussed look. The cash feels heavy in his hand. He's never had so much before. This could help him get a new start. What's a night of playing Downton Abbey compared to the many many nights he might not have to freeze his ass off in the backseat of his car thanks to it?

"Why are you even doing this anyway? And why would you choose me? Do I look that desperate for cash?"

"No," Cas says after what's definitely a too long pause. Dean scowls. "You were in front of me in the coffee shop line. I heard you talking on the phone. You said you needed some cash to buy a new outfit for a job interview. Begged, really."

"Where the fuck do you get on listening in on other people’s conversation?"

"I didn't listen, I just heard."

"You know, what? Fuck you," Dean spits, "I don't need that bullshit in my life right now." He has enough cash to get to Austin and replenish his stock of food, even buy some new clothes. At least this way he can keep his dignity rather than being insulted by a bunch of rich assh-

"Please," Castiel begs, following him as Dean storms away. "You don't understand…"

"Oh I understand perfectly," Dean says, stopping and turning around so brusquely that they nearly bump into each other. "You think you can shit on other people from your high horse and that they'll still do your deed for a few hundred bucks. Well, I'm not your freaking puppet, man."

"I have never shitted on any-" he stops himself with a frustrated groan, before turning on the puppy dog eyes. "Dean, please. Listen to what I have to say at least?"

"I know what you're gonna say. I've seen that movie before, Cas. You're going to bring me to that party, so you can parade me around like I'm some earned price or some shit. Meanwhile you get to appease mommy dearest and the clan of hyenas putting pressure on you to find a husband, while still having the satisfaction of giving them a huge fuck you by bringing a guy like me instead of the golden boy they're dreaming of."

"I-" Castiel stops himself, pursing his lips. "That's actually not that far from the reality."

"Of course it isn't. Told you, I've seen that trope before. Except this is real life and your plan sucks, so you can keep your money and I'll keep my dignity. Just grow a pair and tell them all to fuck off, will ya?"

"You sure do like saying that to people," Castiel sulks. "Are you sure you can't do it for me?"

"Oh believe me I would love to tell your mom to fuck off, but I like my balls attached to my body, so that's a hard pass."

Castiel laughs slightly at that and Dean can feel his own anger start to abate at the sound. "Good self-preservation instinct on your part," Cas mumbles. The puppy look is still there, except now it's making him feel like he's kicked the puppy.

"You know, we're in the 21st century, right? You shouldn't feel pressured to the point of inventing a boyfriend. Who gives a shit about that nowadays?"

"My family does," Castiel answers in a long sigh. "You don't get it, how could you... I have three brothers, Dean," Castiel explains. "Two sisters. My little sister, who is just nineteen, just got engaged. I was already seen as the irremediably unwed one and now I…," he pauses, sending a nervous look at Dean, looking ashamed.

"Oh come on. How hard can it be? You're rich, objectively good looking. Do you have weird kinks or something?"

"I-I wouldn't know. I've never even been in a relationship before," he confesses, looking at the ground.

"When you say 'relationship', you don't mean you've never…" Dean inquires. Cas' cheeks redden, and Dean blows like he just got punched. "Wow. That sucks."

"Yes, it's very pathetic."

"What? Eh no, it's not pathetic. Surprising, yeah. But, to each their own, you know?"

Cas inclines his head like he's not sure he does know.

"I'm sorry I tried to drag you in all of this. You seem like a good man. You don't deserve-"

"-to be served on a platter to your family?" Dean asks, searching Castiel's gaze until they exchange a smile.

"Yes. That." The man is still looking dejected. The money is still in Dean's hand. That duck really was good. Damn it.

"The food better be freaking awesome," Dean relents with a frustrated grunt. Castiel seems instantly relieved. "And you're not pretty woman-ing me," he warns, pointing a finger at the other man. "I'm choosing my own clothes and I don't give a shit if I don't know which fork to use for fish."

Castiel's head is tilted and he's blinking owlishly, like he doesn't understand a word that Dean is saying. Figures. He's not sure how he could convince anyone that he's this dork's boyfriend, honestly. Naomi certainly looked like she wasn't fooled.

"I'm sorry for the way my mother behaved toward you. I assure you, being yourself will be amply sufficient to the task."

"Dude, the way y'all talk, where do you come from, Victorian England?"

"I-I don't think I have English ancestry, no. Why?"

They blink at each other for some time.

"I must be a freaking masochist."

Cas' face scrunches up even more in incomprehension.

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so: no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods.

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new boyfriend. What a weird day...

You can read the rest on AO3

#destiel #destiel fic #deancas #dean/castiel #dean/cas #spn fic #ao3 fic #destiel fanfiction #AU #pretend/fake relationship #homeless!dean #rich!cas #myfic #my fic #castielific #castielificfic

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before-we-get-started · 3 years

Text

Dream Come True

Colin Shea x O/C Corinne MacAdam

Multi-Chapter Story - Complete

Summary: Colin Shea and his band Rock the Cradle are finally making it big - until something unexpected happens. When he meets a girl that makes him reconsider his player ways, he thinks his life may be coming together, until she blows it apart.

Warning: Bad language, smut, suicidal ideations - no one under 18, please

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please do not read if you are underage. I do not own the character of Colin Shea; the rest are my original characters. By reading beyond this point, you understand the disclaimers as posted.

Chapter Seven

Cori and Seth fell into a very comfortable rhythm, meeting for dinner, going for walks, catching an art exhibit, getting coffee. He was great company and she felt truly at ease with him.

Her job was starting to pick up. Ms. Robbins was ready to start entertaining. Cori found a confidence she didn’t have when she started, and she credited it to her rebirth – new place, new job, new boyfriend. She felt better about herself than she had in months.

In the meantime, Colin’s life was about the same. Lots of gigs with the band, lots of girls, but the one he wanted was out of reach. He and Cori had spent a few evenings together, a couple of times on the rooftop when he was writing songs. She’d giggled at some of his lyrics until he got them straightened out. The problem was, all she wanted to talk about was Seth. He was amazing. He was great. He was outstanding. He was smart. Colin hated him. He was everything Colin wasn’t or ever would be. He was established and well educated and a grown up, all the things that Colin wasn’t.

One evening when she’d invited him for pizza, they watched the Red Sox game on TV and started talking about when they were in high school. Then Cori shared a couple of college stories, but her mood took a turn and she wasn’t so talkative.

“Ok Debbie Downer, what just happened? I was telling you about how I got taped to the top of a flagpole for high school football initiation and then suddenly, you tell me about college and you’re quiet. What’s up?”

She looked so cute tonight. She had on jean cut-offs and a pink sleeveless button up blouse that tied at the bottom, cut low to show the swell of her breasts and with just enough skin visible around the waist that Colin had to shift a couple of times to get comfy on the couch. Her hair was pulled back with a few tendrils hanging down. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose from being in the sun and her eyes were particularly gorgeous. He kept looking at her from the top of her head to the sweet pink toenails on her bare feet and each time, his breath would hitch in his throat.

“I told you about my fiancée, right?”

“Yeah,” he said sadly.

“Well I started seeing him my senior year of high school and we stayed together during college, even though we went to different schools.”

Colin took a swig of beer. “I think I know where this is going,” he said.

“Yeah. He cheated on me. Of course I thought it was the end of the world, except I didn’t even know what that was yet.”

“That’s tough,” said Colin and she let out a laugh.

“Colin. Seriously. For you, it’s incomprehensible. I know you probably think it was stupid that we even tried to stay together.”

He looked a little hurt. “Hey, I respect people that want a relationship. I think it’s hard at that age, with all that temptation, but I know it can be done. Would it be my choice? Hell no. But it meant something to you. So what happened?”

“I was pretty devastated, but he was very remorseful. He came all the way to see me at my school and apologized profusely. He told me it would never happen again. It took a while but I took him back and eventually, I trusted him again.”

“You must have felt like he was worth giving another chance,” he said.

She sighed. “I thought he was, the best. When we graduated, we got engaged. I could see all of it – the wedding, the house with the white picket fence with kids running around. He and I were so compatible.” Her voice dropped off at the end.

He hesitated. “Do you want to talk about the rest? You don’t have to –“

“No, it’s ok. We had our rehearsal dinner at the hotel where we were getting married on Friday night. We parted for the night and wouldn’t see each other until I walked down the aisle. As I was leaving the bar, I noticed he’d left his credit card. I took it up to his room, excited that we’d get one more kiss. I was so stupid.” She felt the tears coming.

He could see it too. He moved toward the couch to try and get closer to her. “It’s ok,” he said softly. “We can stop.”

“No,” she said a little sob escaping. She took a deep breath and sighed. “I caught him in bed my very best friend. And when everything was said and done, he’d had girls all along. He’d never been faithful to me, not even in high school.” She wiped a tear away from her eye.

He was suddenly overwhelmed by feelings – rage at this guy for hurting her, sadness because she was sad, protectiveness because he didn’t want her to hurt anymore. Her tears truly broke his heart. He knelt down in front of her chair and started to put his arms around her, until there was a knock at the door.

“Great,” she muttered, wiping her eyes. She stood up and made her way to the door, gathering herself as she went. She looked through the peephole and let out a little squeal, opening the door. “Seth! You said you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow!”

He swept her up in a hug, lifting her off the ground, then planted a soft kiss to her lips. “I got an earlier flight. I didn’t want to be away from you a second longer than I had to be.” He kissed her again, this time more deeply and urgently.

Colin suddenly felt incredibly conspicuous. He stood up, dropping his beer bottle in the trash can. Seth eyed him over Cori’s shoulder.

“Hey Seth,” he said with a half smile.

“Colin, hey,” he said.

“Well, I’m gonna get out of here so you two can enjoy the night.” Colin stepped around them and walked out the door as Seth lifted Cori again, kissing her as he shut the door behind them. He stood there for just a second. It was jealousy this time, but there was something else – longing, maybe. He was really smitten with her. In fact, if he was really honest, he was falling in love with her.

This was dangerous territory. Time to take evasive action. He ducked into his apartment and changed, then headed to the bar down the block. Time to find a companion for the night, to make him forget that he wasn’t going to be with the girl he really wanted.

“Colin, you guys have to do this.” Cori was pacing around her apartment, talking with her hands, full of energy.

“I don’t know. It’s not what we normally do.”

“It’s a great way to get your name out to people who wouldn’t normally go to Rap’s or some of the other places you play. And it’s really good money.”

He was leaning against her kitchen counter, beer bottle in hand, the other rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, but this is different. This is a big, stuffy old people event.”

She leveled him with a look. “It is not,” she said. “My job is to broaden the net for her fundraising. She has plenty of big stuffy events for old people. She has to widen her demographic. She says if they’re having fun, they’ll donate. I know lots of young people feel like they are a charity, but it’s my job to bring them in so we can teach them about our foundation.”

He shook his head and sighed. “I don’t make any decisions for the band, we do it as a group. I’ll ask them.”

“Make sure you tell them how much she’s paying,” she said with a smile.

“That’s what worries me. I know they’ll say yes.”

“Why is that so awful?”

“It’s not awful, it’s just – I don’t know, I never pictured us being that kind of band.”

“The kind that makes money?”

He shot her a look. “No,” he said forcefully, “a band that kind of sells out and plays just stuffy events.”

She crossed her arms and gave him an angry look. “Colin. Are you crazy? The biggest names in music play private events all the time. One of the attorneys at Seth’s firm just paid huge money for Maroon 5 to play his daughter’s 16th birthday party. You think Adam Levine was like, ‘oh man, I’m compromising my principles.’ No, he took the money and probably even said thank you.”

He smiled a little, he knew when he was beaten. “Fine. Give me all the details and I’ll talk to them at practice.”

“Great!” she squealed. “You guys are so hot right now, getting you at an exclusive event will be huge. And the venue is so awesome. I promise we’ll take good care of all of you.”

He smiled, trying to hide the fact he’d love to work with her. “Oh, hey, I meant to tell you – Rap’s is closing early Wednesday for an employee appreciation and we’re going to play a set. I thought you might want to come, it won’t be so crowded and crazy.”

“Mm,” she said, taking a sip from her water bottle. “Thanks, let me check with Seth and I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, the invite is just for you. Since it’s employee appreciation, they told us we could each ask one person.”

“Wow,” she said, “I’m your plus one? I’m moving up in the world!”

“Damn right,” he said confidently and they both laughed.

“Alright, count me in. I’d love to come.”

He felt a swell of excitement – he loved every minute he spent with her. He was lucky her boyfriend didn’t mind him hanging around as much as he did. Some guys would get all possessive, but Seth seemed fine with it. Thank goodness.

“Alright, I’m out of here. And thanks for including us in the benefit. I don’t think I even bothered to thank you before I went full diva.”

She laughed, a sound he had come to love. “Well, if you’d said no, it was on to U2. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind being sloppy seconds to Rock the Cradle.”

He grabbed his left pec, laughing heartily. “Bono should be so lucky.”

For just a second, he had an impulse to kiss her. She looked so good, he loved that he made her smile so much. But he stopped himself – he had to do this right or he’d blow it.

“Ok, see ya later gator.”

“Bye,” she said seeing him out the door. As she closed it, she thought how crazy it was that she’d ever been interested in him. She’d always have a thing for him, but he’d never see her the way he saw the swarms of girls that were all over him at a gig, or the ones that nuzzled up to him at parties or the ones that were lucky enough to enjoy a sunrise with him. He’d always be out of reach for her. She was lucky that Seth had come along when he did or she’d spend a lot of nights staring through the peephole, wishing she was with 6A.

On Wednesday, she worked a little late so she went straight from work to Rap’s. The doors were locked and a guy was posted with a guest list. He opened up, saw her name on the list and let her in. He directed her to the green room where the band was prepping.

She came to the door and knocked softly. “The groupies are here!” someone shouted from inside and they all hooped and cheered. The door was opened by a guy she recognized as the drummer. She shoved her hand at him. “Oh man, it’s just Cori.”

She giggled. “Sorry to disappoint you!”

“If you’re looking for Colin, he’s in the bathroom squeezing into his leather pants. He’ll be out in a minute.”

She laughed as he led her to a table with some food and drinks.

“Help yourself,” he said.

“Thanks!” She grabbed some veggies and fruit and a bottle of water and found a chair by Kevin. The other guys were coming and going, getting ready.

“So,” she said, “is it good to be back at it and so busy?”

“Yeah,” he said. “There was a time I wondered if we’d get back but we did.”

“Yeah, Colin told me,” she said.

He looked surprised. “Wow, he must really like you. He never really said much to anyone. I just wish I could find out what really happened with him. Something he just doesn’t want to talk about.”

Cori knew he thought she knew more than she did, so she played along. “Yeah, just crazy. Thank goodness he was ok.”

“Oh yeah, he took a really hard hit. I was terrified. I thought, here we were playing hoops like we always do, and in just a second, he was flat on his back not breathing. Leave it to Colin’s dumb ass to die while he’s showing off a killer dunk.”

Cori’s breath caught in her throat. She tried not to show her surprise.

“We were lucky someone knew CPR. He was so upset we missed the meeting with the record company. Between recovering from being hurt, having a horrible concussion and missing out on that opportunity, he was so down. Colin is never down, but he was almost too far to reach.”

For a second she felt guilty – she’d wondered if it was drug or alcohol related. How could she have thought that about him?

“Good news is here we are, back in the swing. I hear you got us a high-end gig.”

“What? Oh yes, did you all discuss?”

Kevin let out a laugh. “There’s nothing to discuss! It’s great money and exposure, we’re doing it.”

“Oh good! I’m so glad,” she said, still reeling inside about what Kevin had told her. Just then, her golden rock god emerged from the bathroom. He was truly born to front a rock band. When he saw her, he broke into the most beautiful smile. She felt that pull of desire in her belly, but tried to look as normal as possible.

“You made it,” he said.

“Of course!”

Someone stuck their head in the door behind him – “five minutes.”

“That’s my cue. Have a great show, break a leg or whatever you say to a band.” She giggled.

“Thanks Cori.”

She made her way to her seat and sat through an incredible set. All the bar’s employees were having a ball, dancing in front of the stage and partying. She nursed a drink and spent her time watching him. He was so beautiful. He had a good voice, not the greatest but no one would ever notice because his stage presence was incredible. He had the crowd in the palm of his hand.

When it ended and the lights came up, the crowd swarmed the stage. The band’s guests emptied out of their tables and climbed up, hugging their significant others and chatting with the crowd. Just as Cori was about to walk towards the stage, a tall, dark haired girl strode in. Cori stopped and looked at her. She was breathtakingly gorgeous. Long legs in a short skirt, crop top that showed off her tanned skin, her hair perfect, large gold earrings dangling from her ears. She had on designer high heels and as she walked by, Cori caught a whiff of what she was sure was expensive perfume. She walked right up to the stage and looked at Colin, and he froze for a second, then reached down for her hand and pulled her up. She wound her arms around his neck, leaning in to say something to him and then laid a kiss on him that was pure fire.

Cori suddenly felt out of place and was grateful she had a clear shot at the door. She left quietly, no one any the wiser. She walked the few blocks home, locked the door and went in to prep for bed. She looked at herself in the mirror. She’d come straight from work so her cardigan and skirt weren’t cool at all. She looked frumpy compared to the glamour that Colin was kissing on stage. Her phone rang.

“Hey baby,” she said to Seth.

“Hey, you’re home.”

“Yeah, I left soon as the band finished.”

“I figured they’d have a big party after.”

She thought about the great time Colin was having with the gorgeous girl. “Nope, no party, just came home.”

“Aw, well I’m glad you’re home safe. We’re still on for Friday, right?”

“Yes! I’m so excited, I can’t believe you got us a table at Basile. You’re the best.”

“I fly in about 7 and I’ll head straight from the airport, should be there by 8 no problem.”

“Great, I can’t wait.”

They said their goodbyes and Cori pulled on a sleep shirt and crawled into bed. The last thing she thought about was her sexy rocker neighbor and how no matter how much she wanted him, she could never have him, not even a little of him.

Colin kept an eye on Cori as soon as the band finished. He wanted to sweep her up and spend the rest of the evening with her. When Claire suddenly appeared in front of the stage, he couldn’t believe it. She’d appeared just as instantly as she’d disappeared from his life. She was the one he thought might be for good, and he’d allowed himself to fall hard for her. Then, just like that, she was gone. He’d awoke one morning to find a note next to the bed. No explanation, just “Thanks,” and she was gone. Now, here she was again, and her timing was horrible. He looked up just in time to see Cori slip out the front door.

He stayed for the party, Claire catching him up on her travels and telling him she’d missed him and just had to see him. She saw on the internet that they were playing at Rap’s tonight and even though it was a private party, she talked her way in (she was used to always getting her way). He drank too much and took her back to his apartment. He didn’t know that across the hall, 6C couldn’t sleep and was up when she heard voices. She’d peered through the peephole at them, Colin’s hands all over Claire as he fumbled with the door, where they’d fallen into 6A and closed the door behind them. Knowing he was home safe, Cori crawled back in bed and finally fell asleep.

The next morning, Ms. Robbins had an early appointment and told her not to come in until 11. She’d made up for the sleep she lost the night before and was stepping out the door when Colin appeared at his door.

“Hey,” she said.

He hesitated, then “Hey.”

“You guys were great last night.”

“Thanks. Hey – I need a favor, a big one. Can I come over?”

She looked at her watch. “Sure, I’m going in late today, I have plenty of time.”

He walked into her apartment clad in only his boxers and laid down on the couch, arm behind his head.

“What are you doing?” she said with a laugh.

“Waiting.”

“On what?”

“For Claire to leave.”

Cori looked perplexed. “Wait – why don’t you just ask her to leave?”

“She’s not awake yet.” He said all of this as if it was perfectly normal.

“So wake her up.”

“Well, we were up pretty late, I wanted to let her sleep. But I don’t want to be there, I just want her to go.”

She thought about this for a minute. “Why?”

He sat up on the couch and pulled a throw pillow over his crotch, resting his arms on it. “Remember when I told you there was one girl I thought was the one?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s her.”

Cori raised her eyebrows. “I understand. She’s stunning.”

“Yeah, and she knows it,” he grumbled. “She’s the worst. The whole time we were together last night, all I could think was how she’d unceremoniously dumped me, never called or texted, then just showed up last night. Like everything was fine.”

She sat down on the chair. “A normal person would’ve said, ‘hey Claire, I was really disappointed in how it ended and I don’t want to be with you anymore.’”

He thought about that for a minute. “I mean, maybe. That never entered my mind. She looked really good last night and we had a few beers, probably too many. But that’s it, I’m done.”

Cori shook her head, processing all he’d said. “So let me get this straight. You really, really liked her, she broke your heart and dumped you on your ass, you don’t hear from her for a long time, she shows up out of nowhere and now you want her to disappear without saying a word to her.”

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’.

“But she was ok to fuck last night.”

Colin flinched at the words. He’d never heard Cori use any language like that. “Jeez Cori, where did that come from?”

“It came from someone that got dumped by an asshole who also wanted to come back – again – but I had enough dignity to tell him to go fuck himself instead of setting myself up again.” She could feel the color rise in her face.

“Look,” said Colin, “I think these are two different situations. I never thought about marrying her or anything, I just really liked her.”

“So that’s what ‘the one’ means to you? Someone worth fucking more than once?” Cori could feel her temper spiraling out of control, but she wasn’t completely sure why and she was flying without a net.

He looked down at the floor, then back at her. “I’m sorry if you’re offended –“

“I guess I’m offended that she treats you like shit, shows up out of nowhere, jumps on stage with you and you bring her home and can’t get enough of her. I saw you when you were trying to get in the door while you were attached to each other. So she’s worth another shag even though she treats you like shit and I’m not worth fucking at all. I can’t believe I’ve actually been comparing myself to these girls you sleep with. How stupid am I?”

He was speechless. What did she just say?

“Cori, hold on a minute –“

“No,” she said, standing up. “You need to go. Go across the hall and grow the fuck up. If you don’t want her there, tell her. I’m not letting you hide over here. I’m just another girl for you to use. I guess I should be happy, at least I get to see you once in a while. As soon as we sleep together, you’d disappear. I’m lucky that I have a mature boyfriend who respects women and doesn’t just see them as a good time. You’re no better than my ex.”

He swallowed slowly, not sure what to say. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She did have feelings for him. He didn’t think that was possible. How could she, she was way too good for him. On the down side, she was comparing him to the ex that cheated on her with her best friend. Not great.

“I mean it. Go. Get out of here. Just go.”

He stood up from the couch and hesitated in front of her.

“Go,” she said with venom in her voice. He did as she said.

Cori was so hot, she started fanning herself. Her fists were balled up and she was grinding her teeth. She looked at her watch and saw that she’d better head out or she’d be late. She made sure through the peephole that Colin wasn’t around and hurried out and down the stairs.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans angst #what's your number #dream come true #comics #colin shea fanfic #colin shea fanfiction #colin shea x ofc #colin shea x original fictional character #what's your number fanfic #what's your number fanfiction

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scmsdivinecultists · 3 years

Text

A Day in the Department of Fuckery

Warnings: Occasional curse word and tons of crack.

Written by Admin Karebear

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

It was a peaceful morning within the palace of the heavens. Although powerful beings such as gods did not need sleep, many retired to their private rooms when the sun set and spent quiet time with their families or lovers. The sun was half-way above the horizon now, painting the endless sky a shade of beautiful orange. Most of the gods who lived in the palace had yet to leave their rooms and begin work, but unfortunately, duty called for some at this hour.

“Who the fuck thought this was a good idea?” Teresa complained, dragging her feet down the empty hallway.

“Zyglavis.” Kare replied, turning her head left so she could look at her companion. “Apparently he requested to have the meeting at this time.”

“Who the heck approved it?”

“The king.”

Teresa groaned. “Of course he did. Probably wants to see me suffer.”

Kare smirked. “Well, our job is to amuse him.”

Teresa, the Goddess of Equality, had long black hair, dark eyes and wore eyeglasses for style. She served as the minister for the Department of Fuckery. Kare, the Goddess of Peace, also wore a pair of glasses in front of her brown eyes, though her hair was berry purple and stopped on top of her shoulders. Kare was chosen as the vice-minister for the new department.

The Department of Fuckery was created not long ago by the King of the Heavens. His Highness felt that the palace had grown too dull and was growing quite bored of his old tricks. So, by creating a new department with some of the most chaotic goddesses in the heavens, the king had found a new way to toy with the gods in Wishes and Punishments.

Reaching the large door at the end of the hall, the goddesses went in. On the other side was a grand room held for meetings between all three departments. As expected, the minister and vice-minister of Punishments were already inside.

“Good morning gentlemen.” Kare greeted the men upon entry.

“Good morning.” Zyglavis replied.

Instead of using words, Scorpio replied with a nod, not thrilled about the early hour either. The women took their seats on their side of the circular table, Teresa’s eyes fixing into a glare pointed at Zyglavis. The ambiance of the room turned from quiet to awkward in a matter of minutes.

Finally, Zyglavis let out a sigh. “Lady Teresa, is there something you would like to say?”

If it were possible, Teresa’s glare grew colder. “Yeah. What’s the deal with holding the meeting at this ungodly hour?”

“Punishments has a large task to complete later today. This time was best for us.”

“Oh, so we’re working around your schedule-”

“Teresa.” Kare cut in, giving the Fuckery Minister a look.

Teresa huffed and crossed her arms, slouching back into her chair. Kare wasn’t usually this uptight, but when it came to work that woman didn’t didn’t make a habit of messing around.

The door opened once again, revealing the missing Minister and Vice-Minister of Wishes. Leon, unsurprisingly, looked annoyed while Karno wore a friendly, relaxed expression.

“You’re late.” Zyglavis snapped, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

“Yes, we’re sorry.” Karno apologized, taking a seat. “There were some... distractions this morning.”

Scorpio scoffed. “Figures.”

The corner of Leon’s mouth curled up. “Spent the night alone again, did you?”

Scorpio clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes. “Better then whatever disgusting woman you allowed into your bed.”

Kare bit her bottom lip and quickly clasped a hand over her mouth to hide her smile, trying to withhold the giggles bubbling in her chest. Teresa, on the other hand, burst into a fit of laughter, not caring when Leon’s glare shifted to her.

Zyglavis, who’s eyebrows furrowed another inch, cleared his throat. “It’s time to get started. Punishments doesn’t have the luxury of time the four of you do.”

“You wouldn’t be so behind if you got your problem children under control.” Leon said, a confident smirk tugging at his lips. “Perhaps you should transfer them to Fuckery. Seems like they’ll get more work done over there.”

Teresa wasn’t laughing anymore. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ichthys would fit in, honestly...” Kare muttered.

The Fuckery Minister turned to her Vice-Minister. “Ok, he would, but that’s not the point.”

Karno, seeing that the meeting was going no where, decided to take things into his own hands. “I see that everyone has a lot of energy this morning. We should be able to get through this rather quickly if we begin now.”

Kare nodded in agreement. “Every Department has a problem child and we shouldn’t leave them unattended for too long.”

‘Our entire department is nothing but problem children.’ Teresa thought.

“Fine. We’ll start.” Leon said, sliding a paper across the table in Teresa’s direction. “What the hell is this foreign language?”

“I was going to ask about that, too.” Zyglavis added. “It’s incomprehensible.”

Teresa lifted a brow and picked up the paper, reading the first few lines. “Dammit, Cupid.”

Kare glanced over. “Don’t tell me she-”

“Wrote in human slang again? Why yes, yes she did.”

“Oh boy.”

Teresa cleared her throat and began reading out loud. “This week, I would like to report that there had been an increased number of thots roaming the palace. I have reason to believe these thots were given an invitation to enter by either Leon, Teorus or Tauxolouve from the Department of Wishes, though there is also a possibility that Partheno from Punishments is involved. I can’t help but LOL at how shook some of these thots looked; can’t determine if they’ve been ghosted yet or not. These thots were trying to flex, but I threw hands with those extra goddesses. In the end, I got them to spill some tea, hit them with a ‘Bye, Felicia’, then yeeted their salty asses out the door. It was lit and I wish someone was there to see me snatch their weaves. I can’t help but ROFL at how highkey desperate these thots are to sleep with any of the gods listed above. Now I’m hangry.”

Now finished reading, Teresa looked up at the others. Everyone seated at the table, except for Kare, clearly were unable to process anything that had been said.

Kare broke the silence. “Basically, we’ve noticed a lot of goddess wandering the halls and have had to escort them out. Make sure your guys clean up after themselves.”

Scorpio clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing in rage. “That miget wrote all that garbage for a simple explanation like that?!”

“You say garbage, I say work or art.” Teresa said, folding the report. “Anything else we can translate for you?”

Karno nodded and placed a smaller paper in Kare’s hand. “This was attached to the front of the report.”

Kare read the note first in her head, then out loud. “Tell Aigo to report to my office for a pegging.” Her brows furrowred and she turned to her superior. “What’s pegging?”

Teresa shrugged. “First I’m hearing of it. She must have learned a new word. Did Aigo go see her?”

“Yeah. The way he jumped out of bed and ran, he must know what that term means.” Leon said.

Zyglavis, who usually had a face of stone, was looking away from everyone in attempt to hide his reddened cheeks. This failed, though, as Scorpio noticed right away.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Scorpio asked.

Zyglavis cleared his throat. “Nothing. I don’t see why we are wasting time translating this nonsense.”

Leon smirked. “Oh-ho, so Minister Ponytail does know what ‘pegging’ means.”

“If I did, I would have said so, rabid lion.”

The meeting continued. Gods had a very different sense of time then humans did, but even for the goddesses in Fuckery, time moved painfully slow. When it was finally over, Teresa and Kare returned to their department. Inside were more members of the Department of Fuckery, who had finally left their chambers. Moli, the Goddess of Domination and Maisey, the Goddess of Submission, were having a casual conversation on large couch. Curled up on a single chair was Kay, the Goddess of Innocence.

Moli was twirling a lock of long, red hair around her finger. Her green eyes were focused on Maisey, listening earnestly to her friend. Maisey had long hair that started brown, then faded into a deep shade of green that matched her eyes. Kay’s blue eyes were cast down to the book in her lap. Her hair was also red, but cut to her shoulders. All three were dressed in the Fuckery uniform, which resembled those belonging to Wishes and Punishments, just more of a femanine style. Each goddess in the department wore a velvet-red arm band.

“Thank god that’s over!” Teresa exclaimed, disrupting the quiet atmosphere. “Cupid, you coward! Where are you?”

“She’s in her office.” Moli said, pointing towards the back of the department.

Teresa huffed and stormed towards the office. Kare, choosing to stay behind, took a seat on the couch as well, near Kay’s chair.

“How was the meeting?” Kay asked.

“Chaotic, as always.” Kare replied, nodding towards the book in the red-head’s lap. “Whatcha’ reading?”

“A book from Earth. It’s called 50 Shades of Grey.”

“Sounds interesting. What’s it about?”

Kay’s cheeks turned pink as she shook her head. “You don’t wanna know.”

Kare was confused by the statement, but chose to let it go.

Moli reached over and tapped the vice-minister’s shoulder. “How was Zyg?”

The purple-haired goddess shrugged. “He didn’t seem any different then usual. Although, I’m a little worried he may be over-working himself...”

Maisey raised a brow. “What makes you say that?”

“His face flushed red in the middle of the meeting. If gods were capable of getting sick I would assume it was an illness, but he seemed, I don’t know, embarrassed?”

“Zyg? Embarrassed?” Kay asked, not believing her ears. “Impossible. Over what?”

“Cupid wrote something about ‘pegging’ in one of her notes and no one could figure out what it meant.”

Moli, who looked concerned a minute ago, was now smiling. She almost looked proud.

“Oh, I see.” Moli said, picking up her glass from the coffee table and taking a sip.

Moli and Maisey exchanged a look. Only they knew the reason behind Zyglavis’ embarrassment and who was the cause of it. Kare was about to ask, but Kay quickly shook her head as of saying ‘don’t’. So, once again, Kare was left in the dark.

Maisey downed the rest of her glass. “I gotta ask Hue for more wine. This is good shit.”

“I can’t believe how high your alcohol tolerance is.” Kay said. “Or that your drinking this early in the morning.”

Maisey shrugged. “Gotta get fucked up to fuck things up, right?”

“Preach!” Moli exclaimed, raising her glass in a toast before chugging the rest of it. “Hey, Kare, you want some?”

Kare thought about it. “I really shouldn- ah, screw it. Why not?”

“What about you, Kay?” Maisey asked.

Kay smiled but politely declined.

Teresa lifted her hand to knock on the door, but decided against and threw it open instead.

“Cupid, what the hell is this?” Teresa asked the department’s secretary, waving the report from earlier in her hand.

Cupid, who had been calmly writing at her desk, paused to look at the Minister. Cupid, the Goddess of Infatuation, was small but mighty. She had short brown hair and brown eyes that matched. Also in the room was Ruby. Ruby, the Goddess of Dreams, was the youngest in the department and acted as Fuckery’s messenger while training beneath the others. She had dark, medium length hair and gentle brown eyes.

“Ew, it’s you.” Cupid huffed. “That’s the report, you hooligan. Maybe if you stopped putting sugar on your lettuce you’d have figured that out.”

“Sugar on my- At least I don’t go after basic human white boys!” Teresa snapped back. “I knew what this was. Why all the slang? The gods couldn’t make any sense of it.”

“I was doing my job and made the meeting more entertaining.” Cupid smirked. “How ridiculous were their faces?”

Teresa laughed. “I’ve never seen Zyg look more confused in my life. Scorpio was kinda pissed, Leon was flat out confused and Karno was just like ‘oh, ok’. It was priceless.”

“Um, no one is going to get in trouble, right?” Ruby asked nervously. “Those meetings seem important, so...”

Teresa shook her head. “They’re important, yeah, but we’re the department of Fuckery; we’re supposed to mess a around. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be on the receiving end of the king’s boredom. That’s what Leon is for.”

“Ruby helped me with slang research.” Cupid said, patting the younger goddess’ head. “Good work.”

Ruby blushed. “T-Thank you.”

Teresa flashed Ruby a smile before turning back to Cupid. “By the way, what does ‘pegging’ mean? Leon and Karno want to know.”

Cupid laughed. “You don’t wanna know. Trust me. It will ruin you forever.”

“Nothing can ruin me more then the lot of you have.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” Cupid looked at Ruby. “Cover your ears for a minute.”

Ruby was confused, but did as told. Cupid approached Teresa and explained it to her quietly. When she finished, Teresa was frozen in place trying to process what she had just heard. Part of her wasn’t surprised, but at the same time, she was.

Teresa groaned. “Great. Now I have an image of you and Aigo-”

A voice suddenly shouted across the department. “Ladies! We have a problem!”

Teresa, Cupid and Ruby exchanged looks before racing into the main room where the others were. Kare, Moli, Maisey and Kay were still present, but one more goddess now stood amongst them. Bonnibell, the Goddess of Chaos, had a darker complexion then the others and was equally as beautiful with her curly dark hair and powerful eyes. In this moment, her eyes had a fire blazing behind them.

“B? What’s wrong?” Teresa asked.

“I caught a rat trying to sneak in here.” Bonnibell explained.

Ruby flinched. “A-A rat?”

“Poor thing must have lost it’s way.” Kay said. “We should release him outside.”

“Oh, it’s not that kind of rat.”

Bonnibell turned and headed out the door. The other goddesses were confused, but rushed after her, curious to see what their friend had caught.

Out in the hall, the goddesses found someone sitting on the floor, wrists and feet tied together. The god was wearing white clothing, had blonde hair and gold eyes. Everyone recognized him instantly.

“Teorus!” Kare exclaimed, eyes narrowing as her hands placed themselves on her hips. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Teorus laughed nervously. “I heard Fuckery was having some trouble with my goddesses, so I thought I would come guard the hallway. Can’t have anyone getting hurt, right?”

“Oh, so you’re the one who’s been letting all those thots in?” Cupid realized, crossing her arms.

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds mean.” Teorus snapped his fingers to free himself from the bonds and stood up. “If you ladies are thaaaat jealous, my door is always open. I’ll accept you all.”

None of the goddess laughed. In fact, they were all harshly glaring at him. Teorus seemed to realize what grave he had just dug for himself and took off down the hall.

“After him!” Teresa commanded.

The goddesses of Fuckery gave chase, racing through the palace after the blonde god. Teorus could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He was so focused on the women hunting him that he didn’t think to slow down before racing around the corner. As a result, he ran face first into someone. The impact sent Teorus falling onto his ass.

“Ow!” Teorus hissed.

Krioff glared down at him. “What did you do that for?”

“Ah! Krioff!” Teorus exclaimed, still on the floor. “You gotta help me! The girls in Fuckery are reaaally mad at me!”

Krioff looked past Teorus to the mob of enraged goddesses standing before him. “I can see that.”

Knowing better then to get involved, Krioff turned his back and started walking in the other direction.

Teorus’ heart sank. “You’re not gonna help me?!”

“No. See ya.” Krioff replied, not looking back.

The goddesses pounced. Moli and Maisey each took a leg and started dragging Teorus across the floor, heading back to the department. The others followed, ignoring Teorus’ pleas for mercy and forgiveness. The goddesses hauled him into Fuckery and closed the door. Teorus’ screams could no longer be heard echoing in the halls.

~~~~~~~

Minister Teresa: @teresa-yukibito

Vice-Ministed Karebear: @karebearotome

Cupid: @incurablecupidity

Moli: @john-bull-leun

Maisey: @voltage-supernatural-art

Kay: @jer-ich0

Bonnibell: @bonnisimpparker

Ruby: @currentlysleepy

#scm #star crossed myth #admin Karebear

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