#FUCK DYING IN LA JUST CAME ON

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗢𝗙𝗧 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛 | 𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗠

　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x singer!reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Matt have been in a stable relationship hidden from the media for months, until they were forced by it to do a soft launch.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, from anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N²: I hope yall like it! it was my first time doing something like that, and I actually loved it!! I was dying to do some famous!reader, so I took the liberty to do it with this one, I hope it's okay.

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liked by arianagrande, taylorswift and 3,028,299 others

ynsinstagram THE SECRET OF US TOUR STARTS IN 15 DAYS 😭😩 who's excited?

view all 67,044 comments

ynfan1 ME?????? DUH

ynfan2 THIS IS GOING TO BE HISTORICAL, WRITE MY WORDS ‼️

ynfan3 well, considering the pre sale broke her website, all stadium dates sold out in seconds, all social media talking about it...

conangrey I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU AGAIN 🙌🏻

ynfan4 I'M GOING INSANE, IDK WHAT TO WEAR 😭

sabrinacarpenter YES YES YES 🔥

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liked by sturniolofan1, sturniolofan2 and 5,028 others

sturnioloteam Matt spotted out and alone in London today!

view all 3,065 comments

sturniolofan1 wtf is he doing in London?

sturniolofan2 didn't Chris just post a picture in LA? 😭

sturnioloandynfan1 wait, isn't today the London concert of Y/N’s tour??? 🤡

sturniolofan3 wtf does this have to do with Matt?

sturniolofan4 since when Matt goes to other country ALONE????

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liked by oliviarodrigo, harrystyles and 4,268,459 others

ynsinstagram HIIIII LONDON 🎀🇬🇧

view all 478,384 comments

ynfan1 SHE'S SUCH AN ANGEL 🥺

ynfan2 wait, why does she have 2 coffees?

ynfan3 maybe she's with someone from her band?

sturnioloandynfan2 WAIT A MINUTE ‼️ what's Matt's car key doing on her purse????????

ynfan4 what do you mean?

sturnioloandynfan3 OMG TRUE! that's his keychain 🫠

sturniolofan5 DID I HEARD MATT????

oliviarodrigo LONDON GIRL RIGHT THERE BABY ‼️🇬🇧

ynfan5 I LOVE YOUR FRIENDSHIP 😭

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liked by christophersturniolo, nathandoe8 and 1,029,268 others

matthew.sturniolo I'm everywhere but currently in london 🇬🇧

view all 158,472 comments

sturniolofan8 so we're just gonna ignore the elephant in the room or what?

sturnioloandynfan4 I've never thought about this possibility but...

ynfan9 I'm so sure they're the cutest together 🥺

sturniolofan6 yall are so damn dramatic, no one confirmed anything, stop being so delusional

sturniolofan3 stop being so unhappy dude, ew

christophersturniolo bring me some fish and chips when you get back

ynfan4 IS THAT Y/N'S NECKLACE?????

nicolassturniolo london boy

ynandsturniolofan2 is that supposed to be an analogy to taylor's song? 😭

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liked by ynfan2, sturniolofan6 and 268,459 others

people Singer Y/N Y/L/N and youtuber Matthew Sturniolo were spotted together today in London.

view all 85,730 comments

ynfan8 wtf is wrong with yall?? leave Y/N alone, she deserves privacy!

ynfan5 omg it HAD to be people

sturniolofan7 omg no way matt is on people 😭

nicolassturniolo this is honestly so messed up and such a huge invasion of privacy. please, delete this!

sabrinacarpenter I hate you guys. this is so mean. delete it right now!

ynfan9 how the fuck yall always find a way to disturb Y/N's peace?

sturniolofan3 OMG OMG OMG OMG

ynfan6 everything makes sense now

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liked by ynfan2, sturniolofan3 and 1,938 others

ynandsturniolofan6 OMG??? NO WAY I JUST FIND MATT IN Y/N'S CONCERT 😭😭 that's my favorite day ever ✋🏻

view all 827 comments

sturniolofan1 wait, what??? he was at the line to enter the stadium?

ynandsturniolofan6 no! he was about to enter Y/N's backstage area

sturniolofan7 omg he's looking so fucking good 😩

ynfan8 yeah Y/N, I get it now

sturnioloandynfan5 it's SO CUTE the fact he came from LA to see her in London 😭

sturniolofan4 but why London, thought? doesn't she have three concerts in LA next month?

ynfan5 IS THAT Y/N'S NECKLACE AGAIN???? I'M GOING CRAZY

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liked by sturniolotriplets, madisonbeer and 2,628,038 others

matthew.sturniolo we met here, on a random avenue in London, on the first day of your vacation and the second of mine, and neither of us knew where to go, and we ended up visiting tourist spots together. now we´re here for your sold-out show, something you used to dream about just some months ago, and i’m so grateful to be part of this. I love you, petal. you deserve this more than anyone else.

view all 1,728,426 comments

nicolassturniolo PARENTS!!!

christopher.sturniolo that's beautiful man

ynfan5 stop this is so cute 😭

sturniolofan1 "petal" LSKSISMAKAMDO 😭😭😭😭

sturniolofan2 I've never thought I would see Matt posting smt with so many words

ynandsturniolofan3 I'M CRYING WHAT

ynfan7 so... it's been happening for MONTHS???

madisonbeer you'll make me cry, I love you two so much 🥺

nathandoe8 Matt is such a soft for Y/N

yourinstagram are you jealous? chris is right there 😌

christopher.sturniolo what's that supposed to mean?

ynsinstagram I owe all of this to you. if it wasn't for all your incentives and belief in me, I wouldn't be here today. I love you so fucking much 🥹🩷

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tag: matthew.sturniolo

liked by billieeilish, matthew.sturniolo and 5,268,459 others

ynsinstagram The Secret Of Us Tour. London I. June 2024.

view all 872,372 comments

sturniolofan6 was it Matt who took the pic? 🥺

ynsinstagram yes!! 😁

ynfan5 I'm no longer alive, this concert was AMAZING

sturnioloandynfan3 the way Y/N was looking at the back of the stadium ALL THE TIME, smiling like crazy, was the cutest thing ever

ynfan9 the way she look at him??? Matt you're a lucky man

matthew.sturniolo loved every bit of it! ❤️

ynsinstagram love you 🥺🩷

ynfan4 Y/N is the prettiest girl in the world!

matthew.sturniolo agreed

ynandsturniolofan2 they're THE MOMENT!!!

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taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @earth2starkey @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @junnniiieee07 @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @colorthecosmos444 @thewhispersofthewaves @mattslolita @imwetforyourmom @mrl217 @delilahsversion @sturnsmia @mattsfavbitchhh @sturnioloshacker @soursturniolo @blahbel668 @sarosfilms @moncherriis @tobesolonelyjess @zayyluvz

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[pjohoo-reclists]

hey I know this ask Is a little specific but are there any fics where Percy likes reveals his like struggling with guilt, and suicidal thoughts to people other than Annabeth? I love Percabeth I just really want to see other characters reacting to Percy's struggles! Thxxx!!!!

Hey Anon!! This wasn't too specific, don't worry. I read it and two fics immediately came to mind. One is a spot on match - Percy goes to therapy and talks about his guilt and suicidal thoughts/attempts. Took a little while to find a few more tho. Enjoy!

Percy Confides in Others Rec List

A list of fics where Percy confides in people other than Annabeth about his guilt and suicidal tendencies. Enjoy!

How you remind me. by youngjusticewriter

T | 700 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood

Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Grover Underwood

(Look, he didn’t want to be a half-blood.) For a moment Percy felt the urge to ask Grover if he was ever going to be free. But he didn’t so the words stayed in his mouth and there they would rot like fruit left out for days in the summer heat. Percy opened his eyes. He stared at the bathtub. “...Grover, do you think I’ll graduate college?” Percy heard a sharp inhale. “Yeah, Percy. I do.” A noise escaped his throat. His vision grew blurry. “I agreed to go on a quest,” Percy said, finally admitting it to someone.

She’ll Rage For Him by aiden_salva00

T | 900 words | Complete

Percy Jackson/Clarisse La Rue, Silena Beauregard & Clarisse La Rue

Survivor Guilt, Percy Jackson is a Mess, Camp Half Blood

Clarisse La Rue knows rage. Percy Jackson knows loyalty. As the boy breaks, she summons rage to protect him like he has always protected them.

A Son's Prayer by AJDoesStuff (ApophisWrites)

T | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Post Tartarus, Suicidal Thoughts, Good Parent Poseidon

Percy Jackson had been through hell and back, literally in his case, and he just wants someone to talk to where he won't be a burden. He prays to Poseidon, knowing his dad will most likely not bother listening to him, why would he want to listen to someone like Percy anyway. Poseidon listens anyway.

Similarities by HK44

G | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Carter Kane

Short and Sweet, Carter is a good friend, Angst

“It’s different,” Percy cut in, pulling back, moving away, getting ready to leave. “They wouldn’t get it.” The words were firm, edged in steel, lined with barricades. He was falling back into himself again. Carter cursed everything and grabbed his arm. “Hey. What’s up?”

Dying is easy, living is harder by One_Real_Wrimonkey

T | 1.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue

Grief/Mourning, Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue Friendship, Clarisse La Rue has PTSD

She found him on a rock looking over the ocean, waves crashing below them, lit by a brilliant moon. It felt too pretty, given the state of the world, but he couldn't look away. Percy expected her to try and drag him back to camp, or maybe shove him off the cliff, but she only sat next to him. "Wanna talk about it?" . Three weeks after the war, Percy and Clarisse finally allow themselves to grieve.

and the ships are left to rust by Duck_Life

T | 1.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Jason Grace

Survivor Guilt, Bathing/Washing, Grief/Mourning

Jason goes looking for Percy after the final battle.

Rest Me And My Bones by Freddie_77

Not Rated | 1.9k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue, Clarisse La Rue & Will Solace, Percy Jackson & Will Solace

Grief/Mourning, Post Gaea & The Second Giant War, Trans Characters

“Hey,” Percy says, and it’s three AM, and Clarisse has finally got Ellis and Sherman to stop fucking fighting and go to bed, so why is he on the cabin doorstep, and really, how did he get around the landmines? Sure, all the counselors got to know cabin protections, but he hasn’t been at camp in… seven months? Eight? (Sure, Clarisse knows the exact date, deep down, a doomsday clock ticking away, your friend has been gone for this long and this long and this long– But she doesn’t need to admit that.) “The fuck do you want?” Her voice is gruffer than she means for it to. She loves him, deep down. (Very, very deep. You may need a gun pressed to her head to make the words come out. Doesn’t make it less true.) “Donuts,” he responds without pause, holding up one of the camp SUV’s keys. “I figured we could go out with Will. He’s waiting in the car already.” Or: post battle, Percy, Will, and Clarisse go out for donuts and talk for a while.

I'm going to make you wish you were dead by nlpiersee

T | 2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Aphrodite & Ares & Hades & Hephaestus & Hera & Persephone & Poseidon & Zeus (Percy Jackson)

Angst and Feels, Near Death Experiences, Family Drama

The council of the gods gathers expecting to smite a demi-god, only to have the tables turned on them. No one expected one hero to have gone through so much.

i'm a young man built to fall by bakedbean15

T | 2.1k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Paul Blofis & Percy Jackson

PTSD, Post the Second Titan War, Rachel Elizabeth Dare is a good friend

Percy has a flashback at school, Rachel and Paul help.

Just Because I Left Doesn’t Mean That I’m Not Still There by SiederTreeStudios

G | 2.7k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Post Tartarus, Post-Gaea & The Second Giant War, Protective Poseidon

Posideon couldn’t be there for his son when he needed him. But he could be there now. OR Posideon’s perspective on Percy’s adventures (mostly the Lightning Thief) and the aftermath of it all.

life doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints by Thatcrazyfan

T | 2.7k | Complete

Clarisse La Rue/Chris Rodriguez, Percy Jackson/Annabeth

Survivor Guilt, Hopeful Ending, Percy Jackson needs a hug

Chris noticed it before anyone else. He heard the whispers, saw the stares and was vividly reminded of the first few years after he had re-joined camp. The distrust in everyone’s eyes and in their actions and in the voices was something he would never, ever forget. Or, Something's wrong with Percy, and Chris is worried. Percy hasn't been his usual self in a long time.

Call Me by orphan_account

G | 2.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

Attempted Suicide, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trans Male Character

Percy and Nico made a promise on the River Styx, if either ever felt really depressed or like they might attempt suicide they have to call the other. Nico receives an Iris Message on a Tuesday.

the ghost of you by beforedaybreaks

G | 3.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Luke Castellan

Canonical Character Death, Survivor Guilt, Minor Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson

"Hello," the ghost of Luke says from its perch atop Percy's bedroom drawer. It tilts its head; grins, baring shiny white teeth. Luminous gold eyes bore deep into Percy's soul. Percy freezes. "You're not real,” he says, accusatory. Luke seems unphased by this development. In which Percy Jackson is haunted by the ghost of Luke Castellan, deals with unresolved feelings of guilt, and learns to say goodbye, all at the same time.

Percy's "Wonderful" Adventures in Therapy by Inlovewithsnow2002

T | 3.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson, Sally Jackson

Past Child Abuse, Percy finally gets Therapy, Suicidal Thoughts

After a series of unfortunate events Percy has landed himself in therapy.

You Can Kid The World, But Not Your Sister by HK44

T | 4.7k | Complete

Sadie Kane, Percy Jackson, Walt Stone

Panic Attacks, Monsters, Mental Health Issues

It was like the world had slowed between the seconds that it’s tongue lifted off of Felix’s hair and it’s entire body convulsing. It went so painfully still, a broken yelp echoing from it’s mouth. She saw the way it’s eyes bulged, Percy stepping in close. As though the parasite alien from Alien was breaking through, she could see the shift of muscle and bone underneath it’s thick mass of fur. And then the room was splattered in blood and yellow sand.

Apricity by TheProfoundSilence

T | 7.5k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Apollo

Kidnapping, BAMF Percy Jackson, Protective Poseidon

Percy gets kidnapped. He thought the pain was easy to deal with, but hell is just that, hell to live through. In the aftermath, a lonely infirmary, sheer willpower, and Percy Jackson attempts to rebuild himself back again with a little help from godly friends.

the light in the darkest depths of the sea (why can't i hold on?) by AchillesComeHome

Not Rated | 8.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

Angst with a Bittersweet Ending, Good Parent Poseidon, Depressed Percy Jackson

He’s sinking down, and down and down. His throat burns from the seawater aggravating the soreness of it. The water carries him down, or maybe that’s him. He doesn’t know. He lets the sea take him. Maybe she’ll give him the peace he’s never truly had. Maybe she’ll let him rest for once. So he drifts, throat choking and burning with tears, eyes focused on the dimming light above him. Maybe this was his fate all along - to be swept away by the sea to a place even his father can’t find him. And maybe, he’s okay with that. Maybe he can sleep now. Or in which Percy Jackson has given up, but Poseidon has not.

Stars on the Water by liketolaugh

T | 116k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Thalia Grace, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood & Annabeth Chase

Percy Jackson has Self Esteen Issues, Percy Jackson Goes to Therapy, Abused Percy Jackson

"I dunno, I just think it would make a lot of things easier for a lot of people," Percy said to Thalia, when she just stared at him. His cheek rested in his hand, a rare pensive look leaving his eyes distant and unfocused. "Mom has Paul now, so it’ll be easier on her if she doesn’t have to worry about me mucking things up. Dad won’t have to keep threatening war every time Zeus gets his toga twisted. The prophecy’s done, so I won’t be bringing it down on Nico. And no one will have to worry about me blowing up another volcano."

Star Light, Star Bright by liketolaugh

T | 192k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Paul Blofis

Therapy 2: Electric Boogaloo, PTSD, Past Child Abuse

Subject: Percy's back Hello, Raine. I know that you're on leave right now, but you asked me to tell you as soon as we got further news on Percy. He's home. He's safe. But can you please get back to me as soon as possible? He's not doing well, and he's been asking for you. I hope that you've been resting well. With love, Sally

[usedpidemo]

Shangri-la (Oh My Girl Yooa)

Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.

—————

“What the?”

What welcomes you inside the bedroom takes you by complete surprise. It’s the kind that leaves you with more questions than answers. She had been very vague about the whole ordeal, skittering around the details. she was completely straightforward about one thing: to get fucked. That’s the main selling point.

Her inviting tone, her sultry expression, her lust—it’s still freshly imprinted on your mind from an hour ago. You’ve heard those words—their many variations—a handful of times, but hers is by far the most enticing and the sweetest sounding:

“Wanna have sex with me tonight?”

—————

Admittedly, it was never on your bucket list to attend a concert, let alone a group who sings primarily in foreign. It was supposed to be just a kind gesture for a roommate.

He’s your resident nerdy K-pop fan, the kind that gets bullied in real life and on the internet. He’s the full package; posters on the bedroom wall, a book full of photocards, and a shelf of albums and lightsticks which he considers as his sacred temple. You were never meant to go beyond a toe’s dip into this unhealthy obsession he’s engrossed himself in; completing his homework was enough exposure. 

If there was one takeaway from your observations, it was quite obvious: the girls are really hot. And that’s all that you needed to convince yourself to go. 

Besides, you were his roommate—and his only friend. Out of the kindness of your heart, you have an obligation to be there for him, at least until you graduate.

For the most part, the show was entertaining. Again, the girls were pretty attractive, and they were dressed in outfits that flaunted their bodies exceptionally well. Your friend’s relentless screaming accustomed you to the crowd’s energy, which was no joke. Even in a small, intimate venue, there were several moments where you felt that the place might collapse off the audience’s deafening shouts alone. At least you came prepared with noise canceling earplugs.

It’s not a huge surprise when he suddenly vanishes after the show. He’s been in and out of sight the whole time; getting freebies, merch shopping, taking numerous bathroom breaks, to the point where he just straight up forgets he left his phone with you before running off again. 

To make things worse, it’s the dying moments of the night, when everyone in the VIP section, the two of you included, gets to greet the members for only a brief passing moment. He’d been acting like his entire life has been building to this moment, completely neglecting the fact you were his ride home. 

Of course you’re not entirely sure about who’s who in this group. Six equally pretty girls, all wearing the exact same shirt and short skirt combination, down to the colors, with equally warm smiles. You didn’t have enough time to familiarize yourself with each of their names; the internet in the area has been failing you for hours. The staff was strict with phones the closer you approached them. It didn’t help that everyone screamed through their introductions, too.

Unsurprisingly, nothing substantial came of your interaction. A series of repetitive, awkward bows and near-silent whispers of “hello.” You’ve been putting off Duolingo for months, and it showed. It should have been a forgettable affair, considering the hundreds of people they’re greeting just from tonight’s queue alone. It’s not like you particularly stand out from the rest of the crowd; a casual shirt and jeans combo that’s indistinguishable from the dozens in attendance, and you don’t have anything on you that screams ‘overly dedicated fan.’

So when you’re pulled aside by the same staff closely watching the queue during the meet and greet, asked to head backstage as part of some secret lucky draw, you’re not surprised. There’s an age-old superstition that states that you’re more likely to meet celebrities the less you’re familiar with them. It rings true, and you have first hand proof.

You’re led to this singular door in what’s basically an unused narrow hallway. The kind that criminals use to trap their victims. Definitely safe. The staff member instructs you to head in before leaving you there alone. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Instead of your friend, you find one of the members you just met, waiting on the other side. You have so many questions, but she she gives you another to entertain:

“You wanna have sex with me tonight?”

Much to her amusement ,you’re taken aback. At first, you’d think she was pulling some kind of prank. By the way she smiles and laughs, it’s a reaction all too familiar to her, like this is some kind of cliche. It’s not a surprise to hear those words from any girl, knowing your experiences at college parties and bars, but from a traveling singer? Simply put, it’s quite ridiculous.

“You’re joking right?” you say, hand close to the door you just entered, ready to make a beeline for it. You glance around the enclosed, compact space, searching for any possible hidden cameras recording the scene.

She shakes her head, taking a step forward. “Not at all. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“Do you do this all the time?” you ask, her reply not easing you in the slightest. Your hand inches a little closer to the door. It’s not like she’s going to hurt you; if anything, her thin figure’s probably what should worry her if you dare to even breathe heavily on her, let alone touch. 

“Yeah. Every stop. You look really cute,” she says, reaching her hand out to you. “And you look like you can give me a good time tonight.”

There’s something flattering about her words, coming from an idol singer, complimenting you that hits a chord harder than other girls. Her sincere tone, doll-like eyes twinkling, and expressive lips certainly help. It’s alluring—devastating—to a casual like you; how much more to someone who worships her. 

Then, here comes the killing blow:

“So, what’s it going to be?” She kisses you on the chin, wrapping her arms around your neck. It’s not suffocating, not in the slightest, but you might as well be entangled by them. Her eyes, sharp and fiery, are daring you to say otherwise to her seemingly coarse question. 

Leaning your head against her shoulder, her scent and soft skin prove to be intoxicating. You can’t get enough. That hand you’ve been pressing on the door is no longer there; it’s coiled around her back, taking inventory of her slim waist and arched back, then teasing at the fabric of her shirt. Even if she wasn’t the girl you just watched perform on stage, she’s too gorgeous to turn down. And it isn’t like you’ll find your friend, anyway. Perhaps this is your way of getting back at him for being insufferable all throughout.

“Here?” you ask, whispering in her ear, playing with fire. 

She holds you by the cheek, tilting an eyebrow. Shaking her head, she drags her tongue on the ridge of your ear. “Somewhere nicer.”

—————

It’s only you and her in the backseat of one of their vans, windows tinted and the front closed off that it’s safe to assume that the driver can’t hear you—perfectly convenient. He probably doesn’t know you’re even there. 

It’s inside the car that you finally become familiar with each other. YooA, or as she’d prefer you to call her, Shiah, and you have this light bulb moment where you put it all together. You bring up this collection of photocards in your friend’s book holder; you recognize her face on some of the cards. She laughs. Heartily. Her face lights up, honored at the thought, and it’s a sincere look. Other artists would simply wave it off and move on, but she appears intrigued by the effort to obsess over her.

She calls it a bias, and you call it an obsession. In the other’s eyes, you’re both strange. To you, it’s unhealthy and strange; to her, it’s part of the appeal, part of the culture.

So it’s all the more surprising when you admit you’re simply there because of him, that you would have looked the other way otherwise. And in response, she has this warm, wholesome smile; she doesn’t appear offended by your candidness. You don’t know a thing about them, other than they’re delicious eye candy.

“So this is your first foray into K-pop? I hope it was a good one,” she says, flashing you a cute pout. “That means a lot for all of us.”

Yeah, you nod, your eyes wandering down her slim body, draped in darkness, only brought to the light by passing street lamps. You notice how slender and lanky she is. It doesn’t change the appeal; she’s unreal. “I should go more often if that’s the case.”

Shiah chuckles. “You didn’t pay, then. I bet you’re getting more than what he bargained for.”

To which you nod, barely holding in a particularly uncharacteristic grin. She catches it. An opportunity to twist the knife.

It’s a casual affair when you reach the hotel. There’s a surprising lack of fanfare upon your arrival. You assume idols have as much popularity as any other celebrity, but you’re both left alone—and without security, walking past the front desk without a care or a question. Tension gradually builds as you climb floor after floor, until you step out that elevator and into her room, away from prying eyes. 

What welcomes you inside Shiah’s bedroom catches you off-guard.

“What the?”

The person sitting at the center of the bed turns to your direction, shouts out your name. You can recognize that voice anywhere.

“Hey! There you are!”

You immediately turn to Shiah, who replies gleefully, “Of course I knew. Your friend told me everything. He wanted me to invite you along.”

Forget that your friend orchestrated the whole ordeal. It’s the fact that he wants you to join him in a threesome. You expected him to be greedy with the rare opportunity to have a beautiful idol all to himself, but instead, he’s somehow still involving you in the action. There’s a lot to take in, and you don’t exactly know where to start.

“Is this even allowed?” you ask, unsure of your place in this room. You’re slowly soaking up the scenery; none of it makes any sense. Scattered on the bedroom floor is Your friend’s shirt and his bag, freebies and personal belongings alike,, while Shiah casually saunters around the mattress, gradually removing pieces of jewelry from herself and placing them on the nightstand.

“Of course, dude!” says your friend. His energy hasn’t waned in the slightest. You’re amazed his voice hasn’t changed at all, let alone his ability to speak. He had been screaming beside you for the entirety of the show, you’d probably go deaf because of him if not for your earplugs. “I wouldn’t have asked her if she wasn’t allowed to, or if she didn’t feel it.”

“He’s right,” adds Shiah, unbuttoning her jeans. Looking at her again, she grabs your attention with the casual stripping of her pants, pooled around her ankles, leaving only pale colored panties that leave nothing to the imagination. “Plus, I haven’t tried having a threesome before, and tonight seemed like a good idea to try that.”

Surely, you’ve heard weird things before, but none were as out of pocket as this.

“C’mere dude,” says your friend, gesturing to you to take the spot beside him on the bed. “We’re going to fuck an idol tonight. And not just any idol, my freaking bias!”

Your eyes continue to linger on her. Shiah, now undoing her top, candidly tossing them aside. The one time you regret not having your phone on hand to capture without obstruction. Her tits are bite-sized handfuls, nipples firm and on full display, and her figure is so paper thin, you’ll break her when you hold her by her ridiculous proportions. The only thing missing is some fragile warning label plastered on her skin as a reminder to handle her with care.

This is the most awkward you’ve been with your friend since you first met, when he first moved into your dorm. Seated on the mattress, you’re anxious of what’s about to happen. You worry she won’t be able to handle you two; he worries that he won’t be able to ruin her to the fullest extent. 

She meets you at the center in nothing but panties. She scans you both from head to toe, and notices your contrasting expressions. Facing you, she says, “Hey. I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t confident about the idea. If you don’t make me unable to walk after tonight, I’m gonna be quite disappointed. So chin up.”

Reassuring of a tone it may sound, it doesn’t ease your worry even a little. It doesn’t discourage her either; it’s part of the challenge.

She drops to her knees, and that’s when you come around on the idea. Her fingers make work of your pants; yours first, then your friend’s. With eagerness written on her face, your hard cocks hang between her tiny face. Pausing, undecided, she takes a moment to think which one to satisfy. The way she eyes both yours, then your friend’s—you can tell how hungry she is: how she wants them shoved inside her mouth, down her throat, taking all that delicious load. If she could fit both at once, she certainly would.

“Which one should I take first, boys?” she asks, innocuous sounding, her doll-like eyes pleading up with a playful pout. Knowing full well she already has this whole thing already planned out. You and your friend swallow hard, telepathically aligned, thinking of the same idea, based on the rather silent response.

Shiah has your eyes fluttering, hands already gripped to the edge of the bed, lips letting out a string of delightful moans. It sounds like relief, agony, and ecstasy all at once. She’s leaving soft kisses on your tip, her tongue running circling around your length, and her fingers slowly pumping at your base. All your doubts and hesitations, gone in an instant. The very few glimpses you catch of her, her eyes speak to you, staring, telling you to take it all in.

She feels so good, handles you deftly, as if she’s already acquainted with your cock, even though it’s the first time. Pushing all the sensitive, perfect spots and getting you into a steady rhythm. 

“See? I told you it was gonna be—fine—fuck—” 

Your friend folds just as quickly as you do, if not faster. His words, instantly reduced to echoed grunts, groans, and curses, his hand palming Shiah’s scalp. She’s focused, taking turns with each cock, kissing and teasing you both with the prospect of shoving it down her needy, thirsty throat. One hand on your dick and the other on his, stroking you at near-synchronized tempo, then vice versa. You wonder exactly why she’s even hesitant and nervous about taking two at once when she’s clearly a natural at satisfying cocks. 

She’s well aware that she has only one mouth to fulfill her craving for cock. There’s a look of regret every time she stops sucking one cock in place of the other. It’s almost as if she’s failing, even though the pleasure-ridden expressions on your faces say otherwise. “I hope this is good enough,” she frowns, taking a moment to plant another direct kiss on each cockhead. “I wish I could fit you both in my mouth, but I—”

“Shhh.” Your friend interjects, tugging harshly at Shiah’s dark locks, then rubbing his hand around her forehead. “You’re doing so fucking well, so much better than we hoped—”

Suddenly, he finds himself slowly crumbling. Precum coating around her dainty fingers, while he loses grip on his consciousness, lying flat on the bed. If there’s anything you’ve learned in the very short time you’ve had Shiah on her knees, it’s that she’s particularly gentle. You can feel she’s not going to ruin you instantly and that she’s nowhere close to crushing your cock, unlike some of the girls you’ve known in the past. 

This is all new to your friend, after all. It shouldn’t be surprising.

Still, she continues to pleasure you both, taking a moment to slip his erection inside her throat, slurping and swallowing his cock whole. Her eyes instantly slam shut, mumbling a songful hum, finally soaking in the taste after intentionally restraining herself from her lust. Turning to your side, your friend clearly can’t take her; his mouth agape, his chest heaving, breathing heavily, his eyes widely staring at the ceiling in a useless effort to distract himself. In his mind, she’s relentless, overwhelming, cruel.

Her eyes slide in your direction, brows furrowed, apologetic. You shake your head, smile lightly, perfectly understanding of the situation. It’s not that she’s ignoring you; her other hand’s pressing on the base of your cock, down to the underside, pressing on your balls. She’s already left her mark on you even though she’s doing the bare minimum. The layer of precum on her fingers is clear proof. That should be more than enough. 

And when you find your friend completely unresponsive, breathing through his mouth, you tilt your head at an angle and make this poor sleeping impression—something he hasn’t had in over 24 hours. It’s the command that causes Shiah to slip his cock from her mouth with a silent pop, his dick throbbing with her spit dripping from the tip. Her focus turns over to you; her eyes meeting yours, her hands pressing on each knee, and your fingers brushing loose strands of hair aside to see her pretty face, flushed but flawless. It’s now just down to you two. 

She gives your head a playful swirl, and you lift your brows in approval, subtly biting at the lip to show her you like it. Her eyes lock in, scanning through each subdued wince, waiting for the go ahead.

It’s the slightest head motion that nearly ends you. You’re uncertain if you even said yes or no.

Shiah looks so much better with your cock in her mouth than anyone else’s. She knows, too. You pause to take the sight in—your length buried deep in her mouth, occasionally poking her throat, her cheeks hollow, her eyes looking wide at you with a fiery glint, begging you to take her, use her, ruin her. You’re perfectly positioned to work her; your hand is palming the back of her head, giving her this assertive stare that appears demeaning, but you can tell she prefers to be seen that way. It would be criminal to have her on her knees and not have your way with her.

And you do just that.

You hold her still, using the little increments of strength to motion her into a bobbing motion. She surrenders herself into your control, moving her head back and forth with the grip of your hand. Like the swing of a pendulum, you watch your base disappear and appear between her lips. You’re nowhere close to burying yourself entirely in her mouth, but she feels so incredible, so intoxicating, she may as well be deepthroating you.

It’s not the firmness of her luscious lips kissing your cock nor her lewd expressions that shake you, but her suction. She hums this wistful note while sucking your cock—a song of satisfaction. In contrast to the steady rhythm you’re attempting to impose, she drags your length along her tongue, forcing you into this playful tug-of-war whenever you draw your cock back, directing where your cum should land. She envisions it: the notion of your hot load collected on her cheeks. Her fingers point where she wants them, using her pleading eyes and brows to entice you. 

And you’re not going to deny her request. She’s too charming and expressive to turn down. Even more so when your cock is lodged between her lips. 

You utter this particularly incomprehensible mix of a groan and a grumble while your throbbing cock unloads the warm cum she desires. Without wasting a single drop, she takes it all, puffing her cheeks with your seed while carefully pulling your cock out her mouth. Your hand is no longer resting on her head but rather around her shoulder and collarbones. She plays with the load in her mouth, gargling, swishing, before swallowing it all. Afterward, she sticks out her silky tongue, face completely flustered, showing you the aftermath: leftovers of your cum painting her mouth.

“God, Yoo—I mean, Shiah—” you breathe, lightly falling back on the bed as your legs go numb. Your flaccid cock isn’t enough to show how much she’s drained you in one fell swoop. “How are you so—”

“I told you I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t so confident about it,” she remarks, rising to her feet before pushing you down on the sheets, straddling herself on your lap. Her energy remains steadfast. It’s infectious. Winking and pouting, she adds, “Now fuck me till I can’t walk.”

You’re completely sold on the idea, but you can’t do it alone.

Pushing Shiah off you, you shake your friend back into consciousness. You’re holding her by the shoulders, giving her lips a quick kiss. A soft gesture telling her to be a tad patient. Her eyes clue you in; she’s dying to be fucked, to be used, to be ruined. Your friend looks around, feeling hazy, completely unaware of what transpired, even though it’s only been less than 10 minutes. 

“What’d I miss?” he asks, still trying to make sense of things. The last thing he remembers is Shiah on her knees. Now he sees you and his bias in each other’s embrace. Surprisingly, he’s not fazed in the slightest. The bed’s tremors—rumblings—are good enough indicators.

You’re unable to completely look him in the eye, and you don’t know what to answer, so she does it for you: “Your friend blew a nice load inside my mouth. We were just about to have round two. Join us.”

To her amusement, the reply has you staring at her utterly gobsmacked. It’s not the fact that she’s telling it straight, with zero sugarcoating, but her candid, conversational delivery and deadpan expression, as if they’re close friends catching up on lost time. He doesn’t seem bothered, nor does he ask any further questions. Knowing him, he’d be disappointed if you didn’t. 

Really, what’s there to question when given an opportunity to fuck an idol without any conditions or red tape. He’s not making the most of the moment as you have, and the hurried jump off the bed to take position behind her indicates he’s not going to waste any more time. You’re scared you might get into a confrontation over how you’ll take her.

“Say the word and I’ll move aside,” you tell him, calmly. 

“Let me have her tight ass,” is the reply, straightforward. Chalk it up to tension, but there’s a hint of harshness in his voice, as though some bitterness is leaking. He subtly pulls her away from your side, prompting you to let him take full control. 

You aren’t surprised at where he ends up taking her. The bed is the comfiest option, but in his mind, the safest and the most cliche. A shower to ease the tension and stress in the muscles—that’s a good one too, on top of having her possibly pressed against the panels and the idea of soaping her tits while fucking her in the wet. This luxurious suite, which feels like walking from the one end of a parking lot to the other on weary legs, has a handful of mirrors to watch her get railed on. None are as captivating and inviting as the biggest one—the large glass windows that overlook the city, lit up by lights from nearby skylines and the illumination from the living room. 

He presses her tiny frame against the window, then on air, giving her tiny butt a firm slap. Followed by another. Something about Shiah with her back arched, yelping with each spank, arouses him. Her too. She whines, biting on her lip, hands trying to latch to anything. There’s plenty to claim—from her bite-sized chest, to her slinky waist, to her soiled panties. Something he slips down to her ankles. 

In the moment, your friend doesn’t acknowledge you. He’s all up in her hair, licking the shell of ear, a set of clenched digits digging into her warmth. Her eyes fluttering, she whines, pressing a hand around his waist, mumbling, begging, “Fuck me, please, fuck me.”

You can tell she’s apologetic, wants to be punished and manhandled like a naughty girl. Your friend has this glare in his eyes—a look of hunger. His fingers pump away at her core, without care for pace or comfort, just the satisfaction of hearing her cries and the need for her to cum. Bumping her against the window, he’s kissing her, claiming her as his own. Red marks form everywhere on her neck, collarbones, and back. Her entire body. All his. 

You let him. You watch. Not out of guilt, not out of arousal. It’s his moment.

He looks over his shoulder and finds you just watching. “C’mere,” he growls between muted groans, tone low. It should be awkward (it is) but all that tension disappeared the moment she got on her knees. Approaching the twosome in such a strange fashion, he continues to finger Shiah, shifting her away from the window, binding her from behind by one hand. He’s suppressing his tongue, teasing his cockhead against the entrance of her pussy, barely able to restrain himself. 

When you’re in front of her again, you’re greeted by a hot mess. Her juices are dripping down her thighs, pooling around her feet. His coated fingers line around her warmth, around her tight hole. His lust is on full display, cussing out a storm about how incredibly wet and tight she is while she prepares herself to get fucked into oblivion. It’s not the first time you’ve heard him say these things; he talks a loud talk about how he’d fuck his biases in explicit detail, writes particularly concerning essays about the positions they’d be railed in, how they would cum, and how many times he would make them cum. 

At the end of the day, it was none of your business.

And ultimately, he might have been onto something.

You let out this loud unsuppressed moan burying yourself inside her tight cunt. She’s suffocating, overwhelmingly tight—the kind of heat that can make you cum almost immediately. You’re still recovering from your first orgasm, putting you on the backfoot. Still, her walls are too inviting not to get hard again. Meanwhile, your friend, who’s been eager to fuck Shiah’s ass for the longest time, is in no rush. His cock is barely entering her tight hole, slowly easing himself inside her with deep breaths. He’s grabbing a handful of her flesh, openly moaning and grunting taking her.

“F-fuck, Yoo—” he mutters, grabbing at her petite cheeks with an ironclad grip. Pulling her closer to his body so his cock can split her in half. He’s growing greedy—and desperate.

Everything you’re doing to Shiah can be seen in the window’s reflection: you pounding into her tight cunt, your friend’s cock spearing her from behind, her body practically sandwiched between your twosome. The combined weight is more than capable of crushing her slim frame, her skin like tire marks on both your chests. Neither of you move with an understanding of working as a team, and it shows; your collective strokes are unsteady, erratic, chaotic.

This isn’t good for your back—at all. Shiah’s bent forward in part to your friend’s slow, deep thrusts into her delicious ass, rippling with each stroke. She’s clutching to your shoulders for support, screaming from the absolute depths of her lungs getting doubled up. The uncomfortable position is mostly clouded by the overwhelming sensation of your cocks tag teaming on her two sensitive holes. You’re leaning, steadily falling back. That inescapable warmth—that intoxicating heat—keeps you coming back for more, friction be damned.

God, Shiah’s pussy is so fucking perfect.

And that’s what you end up muttering. In an endless choir of ecstasy-charged moans, profanities, and wet sloppy slaps of skin against skin, you throw those words out to the wind. So good, so tight—those doubts you had entering the room, now just thoughts from yesterday. She’s everything you want in a satisfying fuck; your hands intertwined with her waist, rocking her frame with every plunge, savoring each entry into that needy womb.

It’s no surprise then that she cums so soon.

It’s been slowly building to this moment. The signs were there all along; the blink and you’ll miss it patch on her jeans, the phallic object in her purse, the wet puddle forming on her panties, the not so subtle gestures she’s giving fans between performances—she’s been desperate to cum on a cock and her wish can finally be granted. 

In dramatic fashion, she’s all over you. Clinging to you like her lifeline, showing you how you’ve ruined her. Body trembling, legs quaking—the ripples send shockwaves through your body, also in the process of falling apart. Throwing out her hips, a new layer of juices coat both cocks, dripping to the floor. You’re there to break her fall, but you have nothing to stop yours. 

Passing through deaf ears, her screams revert to soft pleas. “Cum, cum in me—please—fuck—” she whines in bursts, riding out her climax in waves, waiting for you two to join her over the edge. You’re preoccupied with the raging fire in your loins, restraining your urge to release your seed inside her needy cunt prematurely. At this point, you’re almost done, holding onto the last of your resolve not to spurt right then and there. The layer of her slick coating your cock doesn’t do you any favors, either.

Propping her body straight, your thrusts remain relentless. Steadied pace, at your own will, rocking her senseless—that’s how you want to finish inside her. You want to keep her in that position: cupping her tiny chest, wrapping an arm on the neck, resting a hand on your light shoulder. Shiah’s body is the perfect plaything.

All of that is too good to be true.

“Cumming, gonna cum—” you mutter, rather ashamedly, though you’re holding up better than anyone ever expected, especially after already orgasming once. You press her to your friend, almost a flat out shove. The line couldn’t be any thinner. “Shit—”

Your legs are on the cusp of crumbling, but at least they’re generous enough to let you savor this moment. Spilling your pent up need, you fuck that remaining cum into her. It’s fulfilling, euphoric. All the proof is down there, dripping between her legs and on your cock. The sight of her splayed, wrecked hole, oozing with seed, tempting you to stick a thumb around her slick core. She squirms at your sensitive touches, still needy and in want.

Only after the orgasm does your vision clear again. It’s an amusing scene; your friend is still pounding into Shiah’s tight ass at a feverish pace. Last one in, last one out—at least you think, that’s how the saying goes, until he lets out this guttural groan, indicating he’s reached his own climax too. If not for the setting, it’s an accomplishment worth cheering, the kind that’s worth a celebration of a life milestone. Cocks buried to the hilt, the sight of her holes spilling seed never grows old. 

At least you both can agree on one thing: staying inside the welcoming warmth that is Shiah’s heat. Neither of you want to leave, even when you regain mobility in your legs.

You’ve got the rest of the night to ruin her, leave her room hobbling or crawling on her feet. Your friend has a bucket list of positions to fuck her in, so it’s the least of your worries. Besides, both of them know you have no intention of leaving. And in the middle of this non-existent conundrum, while your friend is leaving soft kisses all over her back as a victory lap, she takes a moment to glance at you both. Noticing the similarity of smiles on your faces and your supportive nature towards your friend, she’s reminded of something she shares with her members, apart from the fact they’re getting railed at this very moment:

True friendship.

—————

(A/N: Expect a bit more crowdedness aka more-somes over the next few fics. I also haven't written an Oh My Girl member since Arin in over a year, so that's one off the list! This one took a while, had a whole other story involving roadtrips and hitchhiking, which I ultimately scrapped. Thank you for reading!)

(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)

[judes-hoe]

LA Summer ~ TAA66

Parrings~ Trent Alexander-Arnold x reader

Summary ~ Trent takes you with him to LA for summer before the new season!

Warnings ~ SUBBY TRENT, dry humping, p in v(unprotected), cowgirl, creampie, slight boob play.

A/N~ soooo posting this and the Jude one first before the love island series starts!! Jude love island series coming this week!!!

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

You and Trent have been dating for half a year now. He invited you to go with him to LA with his brother and a few friends. You didn’t mind at all as it was time to hang out together just you and him before the new season.

During the days you would do your own thing, he’d go out with his friends, and you’d go out and adventure. But in the evening was when you spent your time together. The past few nights he’s done little date nights, took you to the beach to watch the sunset.

But tonight -the last night- , oh lord was he needy for you. You both just got out the shower and you were in the robe doing your mini skin care routine. Trent had his arms wrapped around your waist, and it was innocent. Until he started to gently buck his hips into you.

You look at him in the mirror, his head tucked in your neck letting out soft groans. Feeling his hard cock rut against your ass. “Someone’s needy.” You tease and softly push your ass against him. “It’s almost been a week, I’m dying here.” He mumbled into your neck.

You turn in his hold and face him. “Okay okay you can have me now.” You said and jump up on the counter in the bathroom. My legs open so he can step between them. He can see your underwear beneath the robe when you open your legs, he lets out a small groan and steps between them.

He pull him into a kiss holding his face so it’s tilted back a little. You kiss his jaw and down his neck, his grip on your hips a little hard. “You gonna let me take care of you, and your needs like a good boy?” You mumbled against his neck. He lets out a small whine and nods. “Okay then, let’s go to the bathroom.” You said getting off the counter and taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom.

You push him on the bed and crawl on top of him, straddling his lap. You start to kiss his collar bone, and down his chest. Your hands rubbing down to his abs and his v-line. You grind your hips down against him while kissing back to his lips. The only thing blocking you is your underwear and his boxers.

You take your robe off and slowly take your underwear off. Trent’s hands immediately come up to your boobs and give them a squeeze before running his hands up and down your body. You do your best to shimmy his boxers down and he helps. You sit up right and reach between you, grabbing his hard cock that’s leaking of pre cum.

“You need this bad don’t you?” You said and jerk his cock a little. He nods his head his breathing already uneven. “Yes yes I do really bad p-please!” He whines and bucks his hips. “Okay okay I’ll give it to you.” You said and put his tip at your entrance before sinking down onto him fully. He lets out a groan and grips your hips, you let out a small moan and plant your hands on your chest for support.

You stay there for a minute before moving back and forth, slowly grinding your hips. “Please more, I need it!” He said in a whiny tone. You start to grind fast back and forth, obviously you were in need of this too. You started to add a little bounce to it which was making him moan. You lean down and pulled him into another kiss, both of you moaning into each others mouth.

It wasn’t long before your felt your climax coming. “Fuck Trent im cumming.” You said and then feel his hand coming and rubbing your clit for you. That pushed you over the edge a you came, your pussy clenching around him as your arms go weak and you lay on his chest.

Trent started slowly bucking his hips into you and was gripping your hips before he came inside you. But it’s okay you’re on birth control. You both lay there for about 30 minutes before Trent pulls out and lays you next to him. He then gets up and goes to the bathroom cleaning himself up and then helping clean you up.

After he helped you change into your pajamas he lays in bed next to you. “Goodnight my love.” He said, his scouse accent very strong. “Goodnight baby.” You said cuddling against him.

[thehighladywrites]

Hii, it's me again, haha.

I got one idea and I though it would be fun, so here I am again...

Can you make texting with acotar characters or just batboys while reader is drunk and she slipped past them to bar and they text her where she went? (I hope it makes sense since my brain doesn't work this late...)

LA /Lulu <3

ACOTAR MEN X READER, SNEAKING OUT TO GO TO A BAR WHILE DRUNK

Summary: Do you sneak past them successfully? And if you manage to do so, how do they react?

Warnings: Mild nsfw in Eris and Rhysand’s part, mentions of drinking, a bit of crying, mention of reader throwing up in Cassian’s part, just fluff and crack

Author’s note: Hi Lulu, I always love your requests. And you make perfect sense, but i switched it up and made headcanons instead of a text thread because it would’ve been too much text. I hope this is okay!🫶🏽 Also i loved writing this, thank you for your request!!🤍

Azriel:

- There is no sneaking past Azriel, it’s just impossible

- His shadows know if you move a millimeter

- Even if he didn’t have them, he’s the spymaster and there’s just no way you’re able to fool him, especially not when you’re this drunk

- You try to sneak out but very obviously fail when you trip over nothing and bring down the table next to you.

- “ Love, where do you think you’re going? You’re drunk out of your mind.”

- “ Ssshhh... *hiccup* hidin' from my mate. Bar with frens, can't let him kn... *mumbles* the secret, ya know?

- He laughs as he picks you up.

- You scream that you’re mated and then give him a big smile when he puts you down and meets your eyes as you realize it’s your mate.

- “Hey, babyyy, misshed you soso much, like, *slightly mumbles* a looot!”

- you plant a fat kiss on his lips and pull him to you

- Azriel just gives you a small smile and pick you up to put you in bed.

- He’s for sure giving you lessons on how to properly sneak out, because you were too damn obvious,

- The spymaster can’t have his own mate be a bad spy, now can he?

Rhysand:

- He let’s you sneak out.

- This guy trails you, dying of laughter as you have a full on conversation with a tree, thinking it’s a person.

- He loves that you’re tiptoeing in the middle of the streets, trying to be subtle.

- Your eyes widen as you see him standing at the entrance of the bar you tried to sneak into.

- “Hello there darling, fancy meeting you here.”

- “ Whoooa you're here too? *hiccup* Wha' a craaazy coincidence, Cheeers to surprish... *mumbles* meetin's!”

- You beg him for shots and he indulges you, but switches the shots of vodka for water. He knows you were drunk enough to not realize. And if you complain about the taste, he adds a bit of salt for the taste.

- You both dance and sing and make out

- yeah drunkenly making out with Rhysand is heavenly

- He grabs you and leads you somewhere more private because it is unbecoming for the high lady and high lord to be seen like this

- his idea of private is… * drumroll * the bathroom!!!

- Rhys picks you up and plops you down on the sink’s side and just goes at it with no care in the world, after all who can say something to him or you?

- anyways you’re both lucid enough to acknowledge that fucking in a bar might be a bit… yeah… so he takes you home and gives you the time of your life

Cassian:

- Cassian is just as drunk as you are

- In the middle of your drunken giggles you came up with this brilliant idea to sneak out and meet up your friends at Rita’s

- You were in The House of Wind so sneaking out wasn’t really as easy as it sounded since you don’t have wings.

- You really wanna go out so you ask Mor to secretly help you when she’s leaving

- The bar was crowded as you danced on tables and bought shots for everyone.

- All of a sudden you felt nauseous and needed to empty your guts. You run out and stumble into Cassian who looks surprised to see you.

- Before he can explain what he’s doing here, you move away and throw up in the alleyway.

- He makes his way over to you and holds back your hair.

- The whole thing sobers you up a bit as you look up at Cassian, sensing mischief and guilt.

- “Baby, what are you doing here?” you ask, genuinely confused.

- “ Um, Rhys and Az are in the bar next door and asked if i wanted to come. Wait- what are YOU doing here?”

- “ Uhhh, I snuck out too. I wanted to meet my friends. But wait did you seriously plan on leaving me alone?”

- His jaw dropped and you bit your lips from laughing.

- “You snuck out first! So actually, you left me first, all alone.”

- You both stare at each other for a hot minute before giggling and agreeing that this never happened and left to meet up with Rhys and Az.

Lucien:

- He trusts you more than anyone in the world, so he doesn’t suspect that you’re lying when you say you’re just going to the bathroom.

- Little does he know you’re drunkenly stumbling over to The Sunshine Delight, the best bar in the Day Court.

- You don’t know how long you’re there for but you go up to the stage and sing a bit, go the bar and drink, dance around and suddenly stumble upon your friends.

- They catch up with you as you sit and play drinking games, laughing and having the time of your lives.

- Your friends sit up straighter and fix their hair and makeup as your brows furrow in confusion. Turning around to see who they’re oogling at, you’re met by Helion’s bewildered expression.

- Shit. If your father-in-law knew you were here then there was only a matter of time before Lucien picked you up. Your friends however didn’t care as Helion approached.

- “ Gods, you’re lucky Y/n, he is so hot! Please put in a good word for me.” You friend not-so-subtly whispered, unaware that Helion was already mated to Lady of Autumn. Helion’s laugh boomed as he plopped down besides you, making you sober up a bit.

- “My dearest daughter, what in The Mother’s name are you doing here all alone? Is my son lurking around here?”

- Oh no, Lucien… Even though you missed your friends, you wanted him here. Tears started forming in your eyes as you started feeling distressed by your mate not being next to you

- “ M’not sure. He should be around here somewhere. Actually let me go check-” He must know you’re lying because he just laughs and tells you Lucien is on his way.

- “ You’re drunk out of your mind and I honestly applaud you for managing to sneak out of the palace at all. But it’s dangerous to be here by yourself, sweetheart. Let’s just wait for Luc, yeah?”

- He was right. Gods, how could you just leave Lucien? Guilt filled you as you started sobbing in the middle of the bar. Your friends and father-in-law looked alarmed and they comforted you as you cried for your mate and husband.

- Lucien was so ready to lecture you about leaving drunk and alone in the middle of the night but all of that came to a halt when he noticed you crying.

- His protective instincts went into overdrive as he hurriedly approached the table, confusion written all over his face as you threw yourself at him in a bone crushing hug, bawling your eyes out.

- Helion and your friends briefly explained as they held back their laughs at your drunken state.

- Lucien took you home and cared for you, whispering comfort and postponed his lecture about the dangers of the night.

- His mate needed him and you were his priority, always.

Eris:

- Yeah…

- I genuinely think he’s one of the smartest sjm-verse characters and if we’re so real, you’re not sneaking past him.

- But let’s be a bit delulu

- He noticed you were a bit buzzed after having too much wine at dinner

- Much to his amusement, you cling to him and act like a complete fool. But he makes sure it’s in private because he knows you’d die if you knew anyone saw you acting like a drunkard.

- At dinner, your ladies informed you that they were visiting this new bar and asked if you wanted to come. Initially you had declined because you wanted to spend time with Eris, but after he informed you that he has a meeting, you changed your mind.

- You had to be very sneaky since Eris knew you inside and out. He could tell when you were up to something. But this was the perfect coverup for your plan.

- “I’m so tired. I think this wine is making me sleepy. Love, I’m gonna turn in for the night, you sure you still have to go to that meeting? You could stay here with me instead.”

- Eris eyes filled with longing as he sighed heavily.

-“ I wish I could cancel, my beloved. But Lord Cruit travelled far and I think it’s best we get these documents signed and dealt with. Besides it’s only two hours and if you behave, i’ll treat you real nice. What do you say?” He gently brought his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you forward into a kiss.

- You loved when he treated you good, but you loved it even more when he punished you. So you just smiled at him sweetly, putting on your best show.

-“ I’ll behave, I promise. I love you, now hurry. You don’t wanna be late.” You pecked him once, twice and ushered him out as quickly as you could before he could pick up on what you were doing

- You waited for fifteen minutes before you changed into one of your sluttiest dresses you had, and winnowed to the new bar. You spotted your friends and made your way over, deciding not to drink too much since you wanted to remember the inevitable consequences of your decision

- and also the wine from dinner had you buzzed.

- After around two hours, the crowd separated to let High Lord Eris through. He looked beyond unamused, just staring at you without saying anything because, well, it wasn't something he wanted everyone to hear in public.

- he just looks at you from top to toe and simply turns around and walk away.

- That is your cue to go as you fall into step behind him.

- “ Babyyyyyy s-slow down, 'ese shoes, can't... *mumble*... walk right in 'em!” He slows down and extends his hand before throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and winnowing home.

- Eris leads you into your chambers and puts you down before grabbing your chin and looking you deep into your eyes with a wicked smirk as he mentally starts planning your punishment, funishment is more like it

- Safe to say he had fun… and he told you that if you’d just let him know you were going out then he wouldn’t have had to look for you like a maniac. He gave you a dark chuckle when you told him this was your plan all along.

- Here babes, you’re gonna need this wheelchair 👩🏾‍🦽👩‍🦽

[thevillainswhore]

Tension

Pairing: Massage Therapist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You’re devastated when your usual massage therapist becomes unavailable at the last minute, but an unexpected trainee is more than happy to handle you.

Warnings: Smut (fing-ering fem receiving, mentions of a-nal play, m-asturbation male receiving)

A/N: Unbeta’d, dividers by saradika and firefly-graphics - also a massive thank you to my babe @rookthorne for helping me edit my header, loves you bitch 💗

Listen, just please use your imaginations with the oil, let’s pretend it’s safe and can be used for… things 👀 okay thank you, enjoy x

Resting your head against the back of the waiting room leather chair, you await your appointment at your regular spa. Headache already starting to disappear from the eucalyptus aroma of incense seaping into your skin.

You needed this. The long work week draining you of all common sense to not hit your coworkers over their heads every two seconds, due to their incompetence. Now, it has finally come to a close, and you could take the opportunity to indulge in your guilty pleasure.

This was the only way you could continue to keep your head above water. A monthly treat to yourself of a two hour long full body massage - undisturbed peace and soft hands kneading the stress out of your body until it felt like you were floating.

And it was literally heaven on earth to let go of the strong willed nature that came with your work, placing your care into the hands of someone else. Giving up your responsibilities of taking charge and allowing another to take care of you for a little while.

It felt so good to let go. Forgetting all of your worries that seemed silly in the midst of the background waterfall noises that lulled you into calmness.

Jesus, you weren’t even on the massage table yet and you already felt so much lighter.

With that thought, the lovely receptionist, you’ve become familiar with from your numerous visits, walks out from the back room and addresses you with an apologetic expression.

“Miss, I’m so terribly sorry about this, but an unexpected personal emergency has come up for your regular therapist and she’s had to leave before your treatment today.”

Your face drops. The excited anticipation bubbling inside you from at last being able to relax, dying out instantly at her words.

Of course it wasn’t your therapist’s fault that you would miss out on the only pass time that gets you through the month. Of course, it wasn’t her fault you’d probably go home and scream into your pillow. Yet, you couldn’t help your internal frustration at the disappointing outcome.

It didn’t help that you hadn't had an orgasm for god knows how long too. The band inside was you on the verge of snapping. A massage being the only way to soothe the built up tension over the month and you feared you would have a mental breakdown from the added stress.

“Listen, I wouldn’t normally suggest this,” she goes on to explain as you lift your head with intrigue, “but we have a new massage therapist in training, free for your time slot. His clientele base is still quite small. However, he’s received great reviews and he’s happy to cover your treatment today - if that’s something you would consider. Would you like to meet him before coming to a decision?”

Fuck it. It’s either this or try to relieve yourself with your shitty vibrator at home that’ll probably die out before you can finish anyway. And you really didn’t want to make the dent in your bedroom wall any bigger from the other times you’d thrown the useless thing at it.

So, what harm could it do?

After agreeing to an introduction with the trainee, telling yourself you should at least see if you feel comfortable enough with him, you stand outside the private massage room, waiting to be invited in.

Eventually hearing a breathy shout of “Come in!”, the receptionist opens the door and allows you to step through, the seemingly young man’s back turned towards you as he fiddles with last minute preparations for your massage.

“Just tryna get everythin’ ready for ya, won’ be a minute.”

After finishing up and a final appraisal to the set up, the trainee spins on his fit, claps his hands together and looks at you directly, “Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’! The name's James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky, sweetheart, I’ll be lookin’ after’ya today.”

Holy shit, where the hell did they find this one?

Bucky’s mid length chocolate hair ran rogue with an errand piece falling into his eyes. It took all of your strength to not reach out and tuck it behind his ear, or maybe even scratch your nails through his hair just to grip it and tug to see if he whimpers.

Woah, settle down girl.

A tight white womens beater, stretched across his pecs, showcased his bulging arms and the pure muscle you couldn’t tear your eyes from. You were pretty sure you were drooling, but you couldn’t give a single fuck right now.

If you had to guess, you would have pinned him as a farmhand or a ranch owner from down south before he became a trainee massage therapist - it definitely would have explained his devilishly built form and his southern twang that has your knees weak.

That’s not the only reason I want my legs to be shaking.

It most definitely isn’t difficult to imagine Bucky with a cowboy hat sitting on his head, thick thighs clenching to keep himself steady riding a horse. Or how easy it is to picture him throwing stacks of hay over his shoulders, dirt covering his sweat glistened body as his pure strength gives him no trouble carrying them to the stables.

You don't even realise you still haven’t spoken a word, stood dumbstruck with your mouth gaping open and lost in your unholy thoughts about the living wet dream about to rub you up, completely forgetting another person was in the room with you.

The receptionist speaks up, “Are you comfortable with James stepping in-“

“Yes!”. Your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment from how quickly you answered, clearing your throat and steeling yourself not to continue making an idiot of yourself. “Um- yes of course, yes… not a problem at all.”

You miss Bucky’s sly little smirk as you make the effort to keep your gaze towards the floor, his tongue peaking out and wetting his lips as he gives you a once over.

Things were about to get interesting.

“So sweetheart, I’m gonna step out while you get changed, take all clothin’ off, start off with lyin’ on’ya stomach for me and cover y’lower half with a towel - I’m sure y’know the drill by now.”

Reverting your attention back onto him, your pulse quickens at his nonchalant conversing of stripping naked. Okay, it was standard procedure for the therapist to go over protocol, but that talk from him is sinfully criminal.

Walking up to the door, Bucky suddenly turns around, “Oh and don’t forget to take off the underwear too, darlin’, be back in a tick.” Bucky winks and slaps the doorframe, finally leaving the room.

Fuck my life.

You have a couple of minutes to compose yourself before Bucky comes back. Changing out of your clothes was almost a relief - sweat clinging to your skin from meeting him and that freaking accent that drove your mind wild. Your panties seemed to agree too, considering the sticky mess that clung to your folds as you pulled them down your legs.

As you now lay face down on the table, folded towel covering your ass - back and legs on display - you anxiously wait for Bucky’s arrival, muscles subtly twitching from either your stress or the need to get fucked.

Probably both.

The door opens to your only knowledge of hearing, sight only focused on the floor from the carved head cushion allowing your face to sit through it. Goosebumps raise on your arms as you listen to the door then quietly close and footsteps get closer towards your direction.

You hold your breath when you see boots stop into your peripheral and legs bend to show a pair of thick thighs straining against the denim of his jeans.

Yep, definitely Bucky.

Lifting your head slightly to look at his face when he doesn’t speak, you choke on your spit when you find him shirtless, stomach marveled with so many abs. You would count, but you’re a little afraid you’ve lost brain cells from his presence alone. And all hope is gone when you see his jeans strung low on his waist - ‘v’ line tantalising your dignity as you wonder how morally wrong it could be to drop to your knees and lick it.

You’re not proud to say you don’t take anything he says in as Bucky begins going through what’s to be expected for your treatment. Ever the professional as you think he probably tells you what to do should you like any adjustments made with his pressure or technique. Luckily, you seem to have gotten away with it as he stands and picks up some oil, tilting your head back down to do some breathing exercises.

“Jus’ the massage today then, sweets? Y’know I wouldn’t mind throwin’ a free facial in there for y’too with the trouble y’had.”

What the fuck?

Your brain short circuits. Surely he must hear what he’s saying out loud… right?

Inwardly shaking your head, you put it down to the lack of intimacy you had gotten recently, mind conjuring illicit fantasies and turning everything he says into something dirty.

You stutter to reply, “N-no, that’s o-okay, just the massage i-is fine.”

The small smile on Bucky’s face is so innocent, like he hasn’t just rebooted your entire being. “Alrightie then darlin’, lemme get started then.”

Guess them breathing exercises went to shit.

Bucky begins slicking his hands up with the massage oil, lathering between his fingers and ensuring all crevices are glistening - especially his veins that bulge all the way up his forearm.

“I’m warnin’ y’though, I’m quite good with my hands.”

You don’t have time to stop yourself blurting the next automatic thought in your head out into the open.

“I bet you are.”

If you could slap yourself you would. Cringing in despair at your ability to make yourself look stupid. You expect things to turn awkward, for Bucky to show unease and even stop the session altogether.

To your surprise, you feel a whisper of a breath caress your neck as he mumbles the very thing to probably cause your death.

“Oh, you have no idea, darlin’.”

The start of the massage truly had your nerves settling down and calming you enough to actually enjoy yourself. Yeah, you still struggled with keeping your cool with Bucky’s huge hands caressing you with his sensual touch, but you managed to stop your squirming and relax.

Bucky however, couldn’t keep a straight head for the life of him. Softness of your skin and the feel of your curves literally in the palms of his hands had his cock threatening to bust the zipper of his jeans.

Timid little thing you were, so skittish when you saw him and he just had to have a little fun with you. That soon backfired on him the second he got a hold of you. Fingers itching to just smooth down your luscious body and open you up like his own personal present.

Unfortunately, he had to make do with rubbing his erection against the edge of the massage table to give him some relief. You were just so sexy - a stunning face and an amazing figure - never mind how fucking adorably shy you were.

Just my type and I’ll be damned if I don’t get a piece’a ya, sweetheart.

Was it wrong for him to be thinking of a client this way? Of course. Would Bucky most definitely get fired before he’s even completed his training should anyone find out? No doubt about it. Was that going to change his mind over what he was about to do next?

Absolutely fucking not.

You had succeeded in keeping your moans and whimpers locked away when Bucky reached particularly sensitive spots on your back. No, not the ones that felt a little too tender, the places his touch elicited your growing desire - as much as you tried to hide it, he could still hear your little intakes of breaths.

But that’s not what I’m after sweetie, I wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.

So, he comes up with a plan.

“Oh darlin’, I can feel all those knots in y’upper back, been workin’ so hard ain’t ya, sweets?”

Fuck, you really had. And Bucky’s praise paired with his seductive voice makes you feel all gooey with neediness, trying to stop yourself sinking into your fuzzy headspace as you reply back. “Y-yeah, I mean I guess so.”

“How ‘bout we try somethin’ different, hm?” Bucky begins to explain, “Reckon if we got y’to bend them legs into a kneelin’ position then it’d feel so much better.”

The sincerity of his voice has you rethinking your suspicions towards how exposed you might be. You still had the towel to cover anything private and while your old therapist never suggested anything like this, Bucky may have learned something new and wanted to try it out.

So you begin to do as he’s asked. “Um, l-like this?”

“Tha’s it, arch that back for me, sweetie.” Again, you follow his instructions all too easily. “Little more for me- there ya go, jus’ like that.”

Bucky can’t help the groan that slips out as he observes the thin towel curve over the shape of your ass. You’re not much higher from the first position you were in, but the subtle lift in your legs, and bowed back allows a perfect image for him.

And a perfect chance.

“Gonna work on y’legs now, sweetheart, lemme know if somethin’ ain’t feelin’ good.”

You don’t have a chance to reply as Bucky begins to knead the muscles in your legs. An unrestrained moan escaping from your lips as he uses his thumbs to work the tension out. You feel as though you've been transported to another world, eyes rolling to the back of your head in glorious pleasure.

Meanwhile, Bucky is having the time of his life watching the jiggle of your ass every time he switches up the motion of his strokes. You don’t seem to notice the towel slowly shifting upwards, revealing the bottom of your ass cheeks to him.

He just needs your legs to spread that tiny bit more so he can see your pretty little pussy.

“That feelin’ good for ya, darlin’?”

Apparently, you let go of all inhibitions from the satisfaction Bucky’s hands bring you, all but unbashfully moaning, “Mhmm, god yes Bucky, feels so fuckin’ good.”

That’s what I love to hear.

“Amazin’. Doin’ so great for me sweetheart, jus’ let ya’self relax and Bucky will take care a ya.”

The dip of your back deepens as you unknowingly start to bring your legs more under you, ass canting up like a cat as Bucky’s thumbs rub close to the crevice under your ass cheeks.

He’s so dangerously close to his prize, he can literally see the wetness that’s spilled from your cunt, coating your inner thighs.

Fuck it.

Bracing for the worst, Bucky’s thumb runs over your pussy lips and your breath hitches as the bolt of electricity that shoots through your body. Now fully aware of his intentions, you expect yourself to feel a slither of outrage, some kind of anger at him for letting it go this far and yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to stop him.

Bucky pauses his thumbs in question, waiting to back off as soon as you deny him and allowing you the freedom of consent.

But, you want this.

The fact he stops his ministrations within an inch of your cunt has you unable to hold back your loud whine, ass pushing back into his hold to try and get him to carry on.

As much as Bucky loves your enthusiasm and he’s almost certain you want this as much as he does, he needs to hear your verbal consent in order for him to proceed. “Ah ah, sweet girl, need to know y’want this, need to hear y’say it.”

With great difficulty, fog clouding your head, you manage to mumble a whimper of agreement. “Fuck, y-yes pleaseee Bucky, give it to me.”

And that’s all the confirmation he needs.

Bucky places both thumbs on each cheek and spreads them apart to reveal your pretty, slick pussy, hole pulsing, almost begging to be filled.

You whimper as you feel his long pointer finger slide through the mess you’ve made and teasingly give your throbbing clit a little tap for good measure.

The little shit even has the audacity to chuckle at your desperation.

“Look at ya darlin’, such a fuckin’ good girl for me, ya think we can get y’a little more wet, hm?”.

He laughs at your stutter, no worries for him though, he can’t wait to make sure he leaves your head empty enough for not one single thought to cross your mind.

Bucky gently slaps your leg and bends over you to whisper in your ear, “turn around, pretty girl.”

The last defence of the towel covering your modesty falls from your body as you quickly move to lie on your back, too fucked out to even notice the breeze that hardens your nipples and exposes your tits to Bucky’s gaze.

He could’ve just picked you up and fucked you against the wall right then and there. But Bucky’s a patient man, and he’s not about to put his pleasure before yours. He wants this to last.

Straddling the table as he combs his wild hair back, Bucky grabs your thighs over his forearms with feral need to drag you down towards him, placing your legs over each of his and separating them. This was his personal slice of heaven.

The view of your cunt and the bounce of your tits has him gripping his cock over his jeans, shaky breaths rattling his chest over how turned on he is from the sight - you really were a goddess, a doll for him to play with until you couldn’t walk.

Releasing himself and grabbing the bottle of oil from the table next to him, Bucky looks directly into your eyes, his own hooded as he unscrews the lid. Your high pitched moans and whimpers have his nerves set alight and he can’t wait to see your face as you cum from his fingers alone.

“Buck-Bucky, what a-are you d-doing?”. It takes everything in you to lift yourself on to your elbows, looking down to see him hovering the bottle over your pussy.

“Y’trust me, sweet girl?”. Fuck, with that voice alone you’d put your whole faith in him.

You gently nod as you never take your eyes away from his, that wicked smirk adorning his face as his eyes light up from your answer.

“Good.”

That’s the last thing you hear before you feel the cold splash of oil drip against your pussy and your shocked moan fills the room as your arms give out.

The liquid rolls down your folds, down to your puckered hole and the thought quickly surpasses Bucky of what your reaction would be if he suggested a little anal play.

First things first, Barnes.

Right.

After emptying the remainder of the oil over you, Bucky tosses the bottle onto the floor, and begins to run his fingers over your cunt, shining in all its pleasurable glory. Trailing down to your hole, Bucky begins to press one finger inside you, stopping at the first knuckle only to take it back out and repeat his torturous teasing.

You can’t help your squirming - hands fisted tight in your hair as your toes curl. The relief of a second finger added to the first only lasts for a minute as again, he torments you by going no further than his first knuckles. All you want is for him to slide his fingers as deep as they can go, but Bucky is far too mesmerised with the glisten of his fingers and the feel of your fluttering little pussy.

“W-want more, baby, p-please Bucky, need more.”

The term of endearment as his feasted eyes snap up to look at you, has his cock twitching - you looked so fucking beautiful like this for him and the pleading in your features has him going soft on you.

Always was a sucker for pretty girls begging.

“Need more, sweetheart? Alright pretty girl, y’can have some more.”

You soon figure how Bucky was holding out on you as he fucks you with his two fingers at a quickened pace, the squelch of mixed juices from your cunt loud to your ears and you’d be embarrassed if Bucky didn’t enjoy it.

And he really did, the sound of your arousal leaking out of you because of him leaves him feeling untamed, beastly, as his veins bulge from his arms. His cock is aching, hard from how much he gets off on your pleasure - he knows he can make it better for you, though. He won’t be happy until you lose your voice because of him.

Slowing down, his deep rumble has the knot in your stomach tightening even more, “Think y’can handle another, sweetie? ‘Cause I think y’can, think this wet pussy needs to be filled up till she can’t take no more.”

With that, Bucky eases a third finger along with his other, the stretch just right to have you wailing out with consistent cries of his name.

Curling his fingers against your upper wall, Bucky searches for that spongey rough patch - he wants you to see stars and he isn’t giving up till you do.

“Hold on a sec sweets, lemme just-, find… oh, there it is.”

All of a sudden your back shoots off the table and your scream of pleasure drowns out the sounds of waterfalls in the background.

“Fuck!”

“Tha’s right darlin’, lemme hear y’scream for me.”

You grip his wrist to keep his hand fucking you, his perfect rhythm too good for you to speak something tangible. But you can’t have him changing anything, you need him to keep everything the same, so you can finish.

Bucky still finds it so fucking hot, sweat from exertion gathering on his neck and dripping down his chest. He couldn’t care less, he just wants to see you cum.

He physically has to use his free arm to force your legs open, it won’t do that you’re trying so desperately to close your legs around him. No. He wants to see you tremble in his hold. He’s fucking craving it.

“C’mon baby, know y’so close sweet girl.”

You are so fucking close, so near to that orgasm you haven’t had in so long - you’ve turned dumb, world blurring around you, only important thing in your mind getting to finish.

And you’re done for as soon as Bucky places his thumb on your swollen clit and circles.

“BUCKY!”

He watches as your shrieks fall from your mouth. Tremors rack through your body, legs finally able to close around his hand as tears from the intensity roll down your temples. You’re in your element and he’s never seen sexier in his entire life.

White cream drips from your pussy as Bucky slowly takes his fingers out, not able to help himself as he plays with your folds and starts to fuck your cum back into you.

Soon enough, you begin to calm down, heavy breathing with your occasional whine of overstimulation from his motions blessing his ears.

He leans down to pepper kisses over your heaving stomach and underneath your breasts, other hand stroking over your heated skin and up to your cheek.

“Easy girl, that’s it, deep breaths.”

Bucky continues to talk you down and strokes your sweaty hair back from your face, your eyes closed and mouth open, panting.

He stops his ministrations altogether, but keeps his fingers inside you, his body connected over yours to settle some of his weight on you and bring you back down to earth.

Giving you a couple of minutes to come down from your fluffy clouds, Bucky analyses all your signals to make sure you’re okay and that you feel safe - and once he completes all his internal checks, he flashes you a dazzling smile.

“So… this may be a bit forward a’me, but what d’ya say I take y’out on a date tomorrow night?”

You chuckle breathlessly at his little joke - as if he didn’t already have his fingers still in your cunt. “Only if you answer my question.” you counter back.

“Sure thing, lil’ darlin’.”

Trying to keep your expression aloof you ask, “What did you do before you started training to be a massage therapist?”

He looks like a little confused puppy as he cocks his head and frowns, but answers anyway with a cheeky squint of his eyes.

“I used to work on my mama’s ranch back home, sweetheart.”

Your head rolls back onto your shoulders as Bucky begins picking up the steady pace of his fingers again, fucked out smile on your face in rememberance to your guesses from earlier.

Fucking knew it.

He may not have the slightest clue what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t have to know as long as he’s the one who’s making you smile like that.

And, he already can’t wait for your next meeting as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls down his zipper to bring his dick out and start fucking his fist while he enjoys the sight of his other hand fucking your cunt.

“Now, we got another hour to make sure ya get what y’paid for darlin’, so hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”

A/N: who doesn’t love a happy ending, right? 😈

[sc0tters]

Repeated Promises | Trevor Zegras

summary: Trevor sees you out with Alex and that unleashes some big emotions in him that he’s dying to tell you about.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, mature scenes, oral (fem receiving!)

word count: 1.78k

authors note: this didn’t make super smut Thursday because I didn’t originally plan on making this smutty but then it just happened. And Trevor’s already got his piece for this Thursday planned out. Been eating for this part so I’m glad I’ve finally gotten it written.

pt1

He thought you two were good.

Life was good, you and Trevor were good, everything was good. You seemed to be okay with the idea of just being friends with a little bit more. Trevor actually found himself growing fond of you, the late night cuddles, the shared laughs over dinner as you two watched a movie.

Which is why he was so surprised when Twitter seemed to be having a meltdown over you being caught in downtown LA in Alex’s hoodie whilst he had his arm around you.

It made Trevor feel sick to his stomach, he wasn’t naturally jealous but the image of you looking up at Alex with a toothy grin had him wanting to go feral. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt as much if you also hadn’t blown off you plans you had with the Ducks player that evening.

You were totally unaware of the fact that you were taking up all of the space in Trevor’s mind as you lay on your couch mindlessly scrolling through your phone.

A smile formed on your lips as you came across a Snapchat highlight that Cole had sent you. Trevor was stood between your legs as you fed him a piece of mango.

Those moments were things you loved, they were the true time when Trevor fooled you into thinking that he could have loved you. Especially since he came back from the lake house, the way his hands would wrap around your waist before he’d pick you up and throw you onto your bed.

It was playful and romantic as he would kiss the back of your neck when you were getting ready in the bathroom. Sure it felt like a punch to the gut as each time he’d leave your apartment you were reminded by the fact that he wasn’t ever really yours, not truly.

You craved the comfort that would have come from him being yours because as much as you tried to pull away by getting closer with Alex, nothing really did ever work well enough.

So when there was a knock at your door it pulled you away from rethinking about those memories “hey-” you were surprised to see Trevor, whenever he came over you two had always planned it.

He looked angry as he locked eyes with you “where is he?” Trevor asked as his eyes cringed at the sight of you still in Alex’s hoodie.

It wasn’t farfetched for you to still be in it as your apartment was always freezing “who?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you didn’t know who he was talking about.

You would have looked beautiful if that hoodie was different because you were not wearing shorts under it and that was soon going to become clear “Alex, y/n who else would I be talking about?” He spoke in a duh tone as he pushed past you and into your apartment.

There wasn’t a moment that you ever thought that Trevor was jealous. It wasn’t something you thought he was capable of feeling “I hung out with him,” you announced with a scoff “so what?” It reminded you of the time back at the lake house when you had tried to avoid him.

All of your friends were upset that their effort to help you leave him had failed “you think this is some kind of joke or something?” The hockey player was ready to punch a wall as he picture Alex’s face there instead.

You crossed your arms as you followed him to your kitchen “why are you so upset that I hung out with my friend?” You didn’t appreciate the boy coming in and calling you the bad guy “your friend?” Trevor couldn’t believe the words that feel from your lips as he walked over to you.

Your body was pressed up against your counter as your breathing slowed “you don’t look at him like he’s just a fucking friend,” the boy spat as his hand pushed up your leg when he was so upset that he didn’t even notice your lack of shorts.

Alarm bells rang through your head but you couldn’t help it when you felt your panties turn wet as the thoughts pooled in them “he is,” you mumbled as you sat on the counter.

Trevor hooked his fingers under your jaw “you look at him like you look at me.” He pointed out as he began placing kisses on your chin going down your jaw.

Before you knew it your fingers locked in his hair “you jealous?” Your voice came out in a groan as you tried to shut your thighs to conceal the feelings that went through your brain but you couldn’t because he was stood between you.

It was rough trying to keep your calm “not jealous,” he shook his head “not when I can give you the world.” He explained as he pulled away to face you.

The hockey player didn’t know what to think about as all he wanted to do was kiss you “got you in my mind twenty four seven,” the boy confessed as his fingers brushed over your lower lip.

Your eyes went wide “no you don’t,”you shook your head as you tried to push his chest away but he remained stood where he was “I’m crazy about you baby.” Trevor pointed out as he really didn’t know where all of this was coming from.

Throughout his whole life he had never quite like he did in that moment “really?” You let out a gasp as you cocked your head.

His hands continued to move up your legs “on fuck baby,” he groaned as his fingers met the lacy fabric of your underwear.

You turned pink as he lifted up your hoodie to confirm what he thought “you knew I’d be here didn’t you?” Trevor asked as he could see the wet patch on your panties “god you’re so wet,” he mumbled as he placed kissed down your neck.

It was like your voice disappeared as the boy hooked his fingers into your panties “want to show you just how much I care about you,” the devilish smile spread on Trevor’s face as he watched your red thong hit the floor.

Before you could let him do that though you placed your hands on either side of his face “I’m crazy about you.” You confessed causing the boy to waste no time as he kissed you.

There wasn’t as much lust in this one as there usually is and he couldn’t help but grow frustrated when you didn’t let his tongue in your mouth.

But with Trevor being Trevor he had a plan so instead he let his fingers dance over your clit yet you moaned when he thrusted into your core.

That gave him the chance to let his tongue move inside of you “such pretty sounds,” Trevor cooed as he let out a grunt against your ear.

You nodded as you clenched around his fingers “quicker,” you begged as you began to grind against his fingers “my needy little girl.” The boy wanted to smirk but as his pants grew tight he could no longer handle it.

Trevor pulled his fingers out of you whimpered “don’t worry doll,” he chuckled as he kissed your temple “won’t let you go just yet,” the boy mumbled as his eyes never left yours when he dropped to his knees “please T.” You begged as you watched him kiss up your thighs.

The boys smirk could be felt as it radiated off of your thighs “you know if you don’t hurry up I might just go find-” you were cut off as his tongue licked a long strip up your slit.

His head was quickly locked into place as your thighs wrapped around his head making sure he truly couldn’t leave you

It was hot as you let out a long moan “just like that,” your head hit the cupboard behind you as the boy refused to stop sucking on your clit. His tongue pleasured you in ways that you knew you never could, no matter how hard you tried Trevor truly did ruin you for all other men.

Not even phone sex helped you, in order to come it had to be his tongue, his fingers, his dick was a pick part of that too. But in general you used needed Trevor.

Your thoughts had gotten so clouded that you didn’t even notice that his tongue was currently lapping up your wetness “fuck delight,” your hand gripped at his brunette locks as you let your hips grind against him.

Trevor let his eyes trail up as you pulled Alex’s hoodie off of your body letting it fling somewhere else in your kitchen. His hand moved up to your bra as he let out a grunt watching you quickly unclip your bra “my pretty little girl,” the hockey player cooed as his thumb rubbed over your nipple “all ready to get fucked out,” he groaned as he watched you nod.

His tongue went back to fucking your core as he continued to tease your stiff peaks “all for you,” you confessed as your body shuddered when you felt his nose hit your clit “keep doing just that please,” you begged as your hand locked over his.

You gasped when he lay his tongue flat on your clit before he let himself move back into your core, a motion that he continued to repeat a few more times “I’m gonna cum fuck!” Your legs began to shake as his tongue refused to leave your core.

The orgasm hit you like a truck as your eyes screwed shut “enough T-” you got the sentence out as you unlocked your legs from around his head.

Trevor smiled as he got up from the floor “always tasting so good,” your release caused his chin to glisten.

His fingers ran over your thighs as he pulled you into a kiss wanting you to taste yourself on his tongue “never gonna get tired of that,” the first his he’d give you after you came always made you melt into his touch.

Somehow though it seemed like there was something on his mind “what’s up?” You asked like he wasn’t just eating you out minutes ago.

The boy stood between your legs as his arms rested on either side of you “wanna take you out on a real date.” He blurted out taking you by surprise.

Over the last year you always thought you would be the one to ask him out. A giggle left your lips “really?” You weren’t letting your surprise stay hidden.

“Promised you the fucking world baby.”

[saintlucretia]

Melancholy Of a Sinner

Pairings: James Patrick March x Female!Reader

Warnings: Smoking. Alcohol. Mentions of murder. Blood. Killings. Hurt/Comfort. Mr. March.

Summary: Y/N was once James's protege, but got killed by John Lowe.

A/N: I have no idea what is this actually. I'm very unsure about this. Summer vibes yay.

Life became something beyond reality. It was past. Past that faded. Like a fever dream. Something that felt real but wasn't anymore. Cold limbs and infinite longing.

There was no point in food because my tongue had no taste. Fruits weren't sweet, meat wasn't fresh, it all felt dead as well. Maybe that's because I put food in a dead mouth.

Alcohol made my blood colder and sometimes it felt easier to breathe after two glasses of absinthe. But it was probably my imagination. 

A few months have passed since my throat was slit. I still feel it sometimes. Cold and rough blade against my skin. Warm and sticky blood on my chest. Smooth and strong hands gripping my shoulders. Nobody could know that John Lowe would get off his bonkers for no fucking reason. Maybe he really believed that I was one of the greatest sinners, who deserved death. Maybe he wanted to be the only protege that Mr. March had. It doesn’t really matter now. I guess they call it the wrong place, the wrong time. 

There was little to do at Cortez. The hotel was dying. The only exciting activity here was killing newcomers, but I quickly got bored of it. Killings made sense when I was alive. Now it was just a childish game. Besides, there was no point in getting this place even more crowded.

It was approximately midday. I was walking through a dimly lit hall, passing guest rooms. The carpet made slurping sounds under my shoes, it probably was someone's blood. I pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes. Nicotine didn't work on my body either, but I liked the habit. I held a cigarette between my lips and tried to light it. The lighter was out. Damn it.

“Let me help.” A deep voice with an almost comical old American accent. In a second a hand was brought to my cheek and lit my cigarette.

I took a deep drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke. 

“Thank you.” 

“My pleasure, darling.” March chuckled. “Mind my company? Or do you have plans?”

I could see the amusement in his eyes. He found sick pleasure in teasing. Nobody here ever had any plans. We were just walking through the halls and spontaneously murdering poor fellows who came across.

“Stay if you want,” I muttered, exhaling smoke.

“You look like you need a drink,” He said playfully.

“Really?” I asked sarcastically. 

I brought the cigarette to my lips again and took another drag.

“Dearest, believe me, a few glasses of the finest wine from my collection, and all your worries will fade away.” James smiled.

I sighed.

“Lead the way.” I took him by the hand. 

We slowly walked to his chambers. It was summer. The sun dimly penetrated the threadbare curtains in the hallway. Guests probably were crowding LA beaches. Well, guests that managed to stay alive.

“How long have you been dead already? A hundred years?” I asked and my voice echoed from the walls.

“Something around that number. I see no need in counting. Why so curious?”

“It’s hard to cope with the thought that I am going to suffer for eternity.” 

We turned around the corner.

“My, my, such dread thoughts in such a pretty head. Why do you see this as eternal suffering, when it could be an eternal delight?” He sounded amused.

“You can’t be serious.” I sighed. 

He chuckled.

"Darling, but imagine the possibilities. You can do whatever your heart desires without worrying about the consequences." James opened the door to his room, letting me go first. "Please, come in.”

The room was dark aside from the light seeping through the curtains, casting a dim glow over the interior. A sense of unreality hovered over the scene, as though the shadows and half-light were playing tricks on my eyes. I have never been here in the daytime. Of course, I have visited room 64 hundreds of times, but it usually was a night business meeting, where we discussed killing plans that I was going to commit. In the daylight it all was different.

"Please, have a seat." He gestured towards the plush armchair beside the bed.

The carpet made a soft sound as James walked over to the small, elegant bar in the corner of the room. The dim light cast strange shadows over the shelves and the various array of bottles, making the place look even more sinister, yet oddly comforting. I sat in the armchair.

He opened one of the cabinets and started to look through his collection of wines.

"Cabernet? Pinotage? Or perhaps a good old classic Bordeaux would be to your liking, darling?" He smirked and took a look at me over his shoulder.

“Your taste,” I answered nonchalantly, looking at the curtained window.

"Glad that you trust me that much." He teased.

James picked up a bottle and took out two crystal glasses. He poured the wine and walked back.

"Only because I don’t care anymore if you poisoned my drink." I chuckled. 

He gave me one glass and sat on the bed, in front of me.

“Nonsense, darling.” He laughed, swirling the dark liquid around the glass for a moment, and took a sip. “Poison is vulgar. I’d rather stab you.” 

“Vulgar?” I laughed, tasting alcohol on my tongue. 

March smiled, his dark eyes glinting in the dim light. 

"Poison is rather a cowardly method, you should admit this," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "Stabbing, on the other hand, there is an art in that.”

“I almost managed to forget how sick you are.” I smiled, crossing my legs. 

“Careful, darling. I have a weakness for pretty women with sharp tongues.” He set his glass on the bedside table. “And talking about ‘sick’, my dear,” he said, his tone light and playful, “you have a glint in your eye that suggests you are not entirely repulsed by the idea of being stabbed by me. Not to mention you also find murder entertaining.”  

“Don’t put your perverse fantasies on me, March.” 

He smiled.

“I got a bit carried away, didn’t I?” 

"Oh, just a touch." I chuckled, taking another sip of wine.

“You know, it’s good to have someone with whom I can discuss my… little hobby.”

“Our hobby.” I corrected him. “Even though I am kind of retired.”

He chuckled. I could see him looking at me, studying my every move. I could feel his eyes wandering across my neck, the scar that I didn’t care to cover, my collarbones, and the exposed part of my chest. I was used to men looking at me like I was a piece of meat. But his gaze was different. Gaze of a gentleman, God forbid.

"You know, people call it morbid, but I like to think of it as... artistic.” He said, his voice low, almost whispering. James leaned forward, his hands resting on his own knees. "There is something so... intimate about it, don’t you think? Taking someone’s life."

“Twisted perspective,” I said, lighting another cigarette with matches that were on the bedside table. 

March leaned back, a sly smile playing on his lips as he took a sip of his wine.

"Perhaps." He set the glass back. “But tell me, love, aren't we all twisted in our own way? You, me, and everyone who has ever stepped foot in Cortez."

I chuckled softly at his statement, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling. 

"I suppose you’re right. I think I lost my grip on 'normal' long ago." 

I took a drag, holding the cigarette with my fingers, and looked out the window. It became lighter as the sun was starting to peek past the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room.

“I am glad that you died,” he said quietly.

I looked at him puzzled, my hand frozen holding the cigarette between my fingers.

"Is this your strange attempt to comfort me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I thought I was an extension of your career.”

March chuckled at my question, rosing slowly and towering over me beside the armchair. He reached out and gently traced the scar along my neck. 

“You were way more than that, darling.” He said, his fingers tracing the rough skin where the blade cut my throat.

My breath hitched slightly as his cold fingers brushed over my skin. The touch felt almost intimate. 

"Enough lies, I was nothing more than just a toy soldier on your board game," I said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Maybe in some way you were, but I would never compare you to a pawn though." He said, his fingers tracing lower and stopping on my collarbones. 

The sun was shining in stripes between the curtains, falling over the bed and over his face, lighting up the dark irises of his eyes. 

"You always had the makings of a queen." He took my hand and left a light kiss on my knuckles.

"And I thought The Countess was supposed to play this role," I mumbled nonchalantly, taking a drag of my cigarette and averting my eyes from his gaze.

I sensed his discomfort as I mentioned her. James leaned in, his face dangerously close to mine. He took the cigarette from my fingers and brought it to his lips, taking a long drag. He exhaled a cloud of smoke in my direction. “Darling, you know very well that she is nothing more than a part of my past.”

“How touching,” I commented.

March raised an eyebrow at my sarcasm. He took another drag from my cigarette, his eyes never leaving my face. 

"You’ve never seemed to be jealous, darling, and now I hear bitterness in your voice. What has changed?" 

He took his glass of wine and swirled the liquid around, watching it slosh inside of the goblet. I sighed, leaned back in the armchair, and pressed the cold crystal of my empty glass to my forehead. 

"Don't tell me you have grown fond of me." He whispered, his tone slightly mocking.

I let my head fall back on the back of the armchair, my eyes gazing aimlessly at the ceiling. The shadows from the curtains danced across the wall, a constant reminder of our ghostly existence. Maybe I deserved suffering. All murderers do, don't they?

I forced myself to chuckle. "Don't flatter yourself. Your change of attitude merely amuses me." I replied. 

I watched him take another drag of my cigarette, the smoke curling around his face. I couldn't help but think how he looked like a fallen angel. A damn handsome one. I always admired him. He was my mentor, he taught me everything I knew. Sometimes I looked up at him like he was my God. After all, I had no one except him.

I watched his dark eyes, trying to decipher what he was thinking. 

"You seem distracted," March said, his eyes scanning my face. 

My hands were shaking. Damn, I needed a cigarette. I looked up at him. Without a word, he handed me the cigarette. His fingers brushed against mine fleetingly as I took it. I exhaled a shaky breath and brought it to my lips. The familiar smell of tobacco filled my lungs as I inhaled deeply.

"Tsk-tsk, darling, you look like a junkie craving their dosage." He said in a condescending tone.

“So what?”

“Cigarettes will not give you what you are craving.” his voice low.

"And what am I craving then, oh, wise one?" I retorted, taking another drag of my cigarette. 

March chuckled, sitting back on the edge of the bed. He knew that I depended on him and his opinion. And he used that.

"You and I both have never had a normal life." He said. “You crave peace.”

"And what makes you say that?" I snapped. I inhaled another lungful of smoke and exhaled it out angrily. "You don't know what I want or need." 

March chuckled. 

"Oh, love, I know exactly what you need," he said. His voice was velvety. “I met you as a scared little girl and now you are a strong and independent woman. I know you very well. I practically made you who you are right now.”

I scowled at his last words. My fingers tightened around the cigarette, knuckles turning white.

"It was easy to manipulate the little girl." I snapped, my tone cold and harsh. “But you can’t do this now.”

March just sat there, his eyes fixed on me, that damn smirk still present in his expression. Like he was enjoying my anger. He was stronger. I felt my eyes treacherously filling with tears. 

James got up and approached me, towering over me with his tall stature. “Shh, little girl.” He took the cigarette from my shaky fingers, put it in the ashtray, and pressed me against his chest, his arms wrapping around my frame.

I buried my face in his chest, trying to hide the tears that quietly rolled down my cheeks. My body trembled slightly. I wasn't the type to get hysterical. At least, not one of those who become hysterical while crying.

"I thought I was over this," I whispered, my voice barely above a faint. “I don’t want to be dead. I don’t want to be alone.”

March didn't say anything. He just held me there, one hand holding me against him, the other caressing my hair. I couldn't deny how good it felt to be held like that. Like I was something precious. I closed my eyes, my fingers digging into the fabric of James's shirt. His lips pressed against my hair, and he inhaled the scent of it.

“You can handle it. You are a strong girl,” he whispered. “You always were. That’s why I picked you.”

I hated myself for being so vulnerable. Especially in front of James March. Disgrace for a killer. I have always known that I could never be greater than him. But now I probably don’t even deserve a place at The Devil’s Night.

I looked up at him. “I'm sorry for disappointing you.” 

March shook his head, a flicker of something uncertain passing through his eyes. 

"You never disappoint me, darling," he said. 

James cupped my face gently in his hands and brushed the remaining tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs.  

"You committed six murders, being only twenty years old, dear. I am very proud of what you have become.” He smiled gently. 

I leaned my cheek into his warm palm, taking a ragged breath. “I shouldn’t have cried in front of you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, dear. I’ve always known that you are sensitive underneath your strength,” He gently stroked my hair. “That’s why I decided that it would be better for you to stay here with me.” 

I froze. “What do you mean?”

“You must understand, I couldn’t let you die anywhere else.” He pulled me closer, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip. “So our friend John just helped me with this problem. But it's okay now, you don't have to worry.”

I felt like my heart died once again.

“No.” I pulled away from him in fear. “No no no. You couldn’t-”

“I could.” He grabbed my wrists firmly, holding me in place. "And I did." 

“You ordered him to finish me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“Darling.” He cupped my cheek gently. His voice quickly changed back to soothing.

I grabbed an empty glass from the bedside table and smashed it on the edge of the table. The remained part of the crystal glass was sharp enough and in a second I stabbed it into James’s throat. 

Blood gushed out of the wound, staining his shirt a dark color. March staggered and fell onto the floor with a gasp. His hands clutched at the wound on the neck. I stumbled back, staring at the image in front of me. The glass shattered into a million pieces. They glittered like little diamonds against the dark carpet. His blood slowly drowned little crystals.

I stood there watching him dying, knowing that he would return in seconds. I pulled out another cigarette and lighted it. 

“Feel better now?” I heard his voice behind me. 

I shrugged, inhaling the tobacco from the cigarette and exhaling it out. I didn't look back at him.

"A little bit," I answered.

“You have an eternity to forgive me, darling." I felt his hands on my shoulders. “And you know that I can wait.”

I stayed silent for a moment, taking another puff from my cigarette.

"I'm not sure if forever is enough," I muttered.

“I'll always be there anyway,” he said and I felt his lips on my cheek. “I love you.”

One single tear silently rolled down my cheek and disappeared under my chin. Probably I loved him too.

[jaeclerc]

just 3.1K of my maxiel demon au for the lovely @powerful-owl ! happy birthday <3 i knew i needed to gift you a little something because you are literally one of the reasons I started to publish any of my f1 works!

cw: mentions of death, blasphemy, and tail fucking

“Maximus,” Daniel greeted him, making Max look up from where he was fucking around on his computer instead of sorting some of the files that he was supposed to be sorting “Tell Torger I have a date so the SEED meeting is a no from me but a huge yes from Charles. And you.”

Max rolled his eyes, staring Daniel down. He was still floating from probably showing off to whoever this date was, trying to impress them with the fact that he was The Devil. Max had seen him try and pick up when they went to the occasional Earth-side bar and he always pulled out the floating and tail as if most people weren’t scared of such a figure like The Devil. He was always baffled when it worked and Daniel ditched them to go off and do whatever he did on these trysts.

(Max tried to never think about it, lest he has to address the deep jealousy that crops up)

“I do not want to go, Daniel.” Max sighed, his fingers going back to pecking out the email he had already pulled up to draft to George, Toto’s assistant. He did not want to go but he still would, because he knew that these small pleasures came rarely to Daniel.

He’s spent over 40 years with Daniel and Charles, he knew them better than he would wish to admit. He knew that Charles was riddled with guilt for disparaging his mother and then dying and he still visited her salon when he could, disguised as a random teen.

He knew that Daniel felt so heavy with the burden of what put him in the position to be The Devil that he rarely gave himself any sort of actual happiness. Underneath the cherry red eyes and poker tail, he was scared of what he had to do daily to maintain his existence. He was secretly devastated that he and his fellow soldiers had died in a war that was supposed to end them all, just for another one to pop up 20 years later. He held his responsibility heavy around his neck like a collared dog.

“I know, Maxi-Pad, but: I’m your boss and I want you to attend. It’ll be good to help you get promoted.” Daniel simpered, a sly smile on his lips at his own joke.

“Promoted to what?” Charles chimed in as he walked in, angel dust still on his cheekbones from his angel boyfriend. Max didn’t understand why he always had to be Daniel’s assistant when there were two of them and Charles was perfectly capable of file organizing and emailing.

“To my two favorite demons!” He wrapped his arms around the both of them, dimples showing as he hugged them close. Letting out a pleased hum as he saw the email that Max was drafting

“We are, of course, the only demons you have.” Max snorted, signing his email off and sending it, even with Daniel squeezing him close. The Devil smelt like La Labo and Old Spice deodorant, as well as the Downey softener that he made all of Hell use.

All of Hell was just the three of them plus Charles’ boyfriend, but he still insisted that they all used it.

“Exactly! But, you’ll be my favorite demons out of alllll the demons and angels there are and that’s pretty sweet.” Daniel let go of them as George replied, confirming that it was alright for them to attend rather than Daniel.

“Great, now that we have that sorted: Charles I need your help picking out an outfit.” Daniel pulled Charles along and Max glared at him as Charles mouthed “Sorry!” over his shoulder.

Max went back to fucking around on reddit forums about being in love with your boss and the implications of it. Just for research. Humanity had become so informational since Max had died.

^_^

Max stewed about as he waited for Charles to finish helping Daniel, waiting to pounce on the other demon and quiz him on everything he knew. Daniel and Charles were each other’s gossip partners, but Max was Daniel’s movie and grocery shopping partner so it evened out in time given. But, Charles still always had the information that Max felt like he was missing.

When Charles finally walked out with a faint grin that bloomed into an intense smile when he saw Max, giggling to himself as Max glowered at him.

“Max, you are so silly.” Was all he said when he finally stopped in front of him, hands crossed as he looked quite smug.

“What do you mean?” Max said, huffy and indignant even if he was admittedly acting super silly and like a teenager with a crush. Which was: accurate but embarrassing. He was only a teenager in body, but in his 50s in spirit and yet he was acting pouty and jealous.

“Just tell Daniel that you like him! He adores you, you guys are always going on little trips together, no?” Charles was always so cryptic with him, it was frustrating.

“That doesn’t mean-you know, the world wide web says that it’s unethical for a boss to sleep with an employee.” Charles snorted, flopping next to Max on the living room couch, sprawling out and putting his feet under Max’s legs, which Max just accepted. It was 15 years too late to shove Charles away, anyway.

“We’re not his employees, we are his friends. Seb told me that Daniel was so lonely before we were chosen and that’s why he picked us out. He needed someone like us. Someone like him.” Charles said.

“Insane?” Max asked

“Gay and lonely.” Charles amended, pausing before adding “And insane.”

Max huffed a laugh, hugging his arms around himself, before preparing himself to ask. But, he didn’t have to, Charles already coming out with it.

“The guy’s name is Emiliano.” He said, a small smile playing on his lips “And Daniel really seems to like him. He couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful his, ah, turquoise eyes were.”

Max openly stared at Charles. What a best friend he was, saying all of this to him when he knew how Max felt!

“Come on, let’s get ready for the meeting. We can go out afterwards.” Charles had that look in his eyes that he had whenever he was planning something. Probably going to try and set Max up at the club they frequent, just so he wasn’t stewing so much about what Daniel could possibly be doing with his tail.

Charles had him dressed in his best white button up, the ripped black jeans that hugged his ass and thighs but weren’t too tight, and even let him borrow a pair of Jordan’s that were pristine and baby blue.

He made him wear his best cologne and style his hair in the nice tussled style that Charles said he looked best in, a sly grin on his face the entire time.

Unusually, Charles wasn’t dressed up with him, he was just in a faded t-shirt and some sweats. But, Charles had a face that distracted from anyone paying attention to anything else and he was taken, so he didn’t need to look good like Max did when they went out.

^_^

When Max walked through their transporting door (not to get confused with the door that dropped into the fiery pits), he was surprised to find himself without Charles and in a low lit restaurant, not the pristine marble halls of Angel Court.

He was also surprised to see Daniel smiling at him, horns and his tail out. Just like Max liked him, unashamed and glowing in his pseudo-godhood.

“Wha-We are missing the meeting.” Max was confused. Someone had to show up at the meeting, it was important and they had already pushed it back twice. It was to review their efficiency and what they needed to fix, which was a lot in Max’s opinion.

“No, Charles is at the meeting, Maxy. We are here.” Max frowned as Daniel stood up, walking towards him. He didn’t understand. Daniel was supposed to be on a date with Emiliano with the blue eyes while Max stewed and tried to convince Toto to give them another demon just so Max could do less desk work and more in the field work with Daniel.

“What about your date?” Max asked, voice softening as Daniel pulled out the chair for him and lightly pushed him down into it.

“You are my date, Max Emilian.” Daniel smiled at him, head tilting as he looked Max up and down, making him feel like there were a bunch of ants crawling up and down his spine with the way he shivered.

Daniel sighed, amused as he continued to just look at Max with his red fire filled eyes, tail flicking behind him absentmindedly as he reached out, hesitant. His thumb brushed Max’s clenched fist, rubbing softly over his knuckles.

“You like me, Max.” It was a fact, a statement that Daniel seemingly knew to be true with the way it came out of his mouth. Max flinched, feeling suddenly exposed,

“I like you too. Have since ‘97 when you rescued that cat from one of the sinners we had to confront.” Max was still silent, which seemingly amused Daniel.

“You also leave those forums that you browse open on the computer.” He added, which Max flushed at. He still felt a little out of depth.

“I was only on Earth for less than 20 years.” Max defended, unclenching his fist as Daniel’s hand wrapped loosely around his. “I don’t know these things. I lost my virginity and then died.” He flushed again at that admission. He had only told Charles about that little fact.

“I know all of that already. I also know that you would’ve never told me you liked me because you’re afraid that it’s against company policy.” Daniel’s thumb rubbed absentminded circles on Max’s knuckle, making his brain only able to focus on how wonderful it felt to have Daniel touching him.

“Turns out: I make the policy and I’ve decided it’s perfectly fine that you like me and I like you. It’s actually encouraged.” He continued, pausing his thumb to get Max to actually look at him.

Max felt deranged with how the suppressed want flowed through him, with the hope and adoration in Daniel’s eyes. Those eyes were looking at him, staring him down and Max wanted to lunge across the table and seal Daniel’s mouth shut with his own. He wanted to strip both of them down until all they had on was their matching horns (red for Daniel and gold for Max). He wanted to cry and yell that they’ve could’ve been together since 1997.

Instead he just replied, quite even and simple if he were to say so himself, “Well if it’s not against company policy and my boss is encouraging it, then, of course, as the star employee, I have to do it.”

Daniel beamed at him, lacing their fingers together.

^_^

Dinner was a quiet, tension filled affair. By the time that Max had his polite three bites of dessert, he was ready to go back home and present himself to Daniel like a cat in heat.

Instead, they walked out the door of the cute Italian restaurant and started walking, Daniel swinging their hands between them as he chatted with Max about small things. Max just wanted to get home, back to Hell and the comfort of their shared house so he could kiss Daniel, too nervous to kiss him in public, unsure how people would react around them.

“Are you good?” Daniel asked as he noticed Max start to slow down, dragging his arm out.

“Can we go home?” Max asked instead of answering. Daniel tilted his head before nodding, his face looking a little less excited than he was before. He snapped his fingers and guided Max through the next available door, right into their living room.

“What’s-“ Max didn’t let Daniel finish, gripping his shoulders and pulling him in for a frankly messy kiss, all nerves and inexperience. Daniel relaxed, hands coming up to cup Max’s jaw, tail wrapping around Max’s waist as they fell into each other.

Daniel was a lot more smooth than Max, coaxing him out of his frantic kissing and into something a little more slow and exploratory, gently tasting each other’s mouths.

Max wanted more and more. He secretly knew that if he ever had Daniel, he would actually lose his mind. He would never be able to have his fill, the endless void of want opening itself up to consume everything Daniel could ever give him and that scared him. The enormous feelings that encompassed him whenever Daniel was around. It was a million times worse already, now that he knew Daniel wanted him back.

He was canting his hips into Daniel’s without even realizing, seeking his warmth to soothe the burn of his own need.

“Max.” Daniel chuckled as Max let out a soft gasp, his own eyes flying open as he felt flooded with embarrassment. He had also feared that his desperation would be so easy to see the moment that he was ever in this position. It wasn’t easing his mind that he was right: Daniel was going to make him absolutely sick with love and want.

He pulled away, wanting to curl up and hide from his own arousal, his body pulsing like he had a heartbeat still.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Daniel soothed, his tail still wrapped around his waist, drawing him in. He pressed a kiss to the space under Max’s ear, pulling him close. Max could feel Daniel’s dick against his hip, half hard and pressing against him as Daniel trailed small kisses against Max’s neck, making his head tilt to the side.

“Daniel-“ He cut himself off before he continued, trying to find the words “Let me.”

He pulled away just a little so he could make Daniel feel good but paused when Daniel’s hands covered his, stopping him.

“Don’t worry about that, baby.” Daniel assured him, his hands guiding Max’s hands to his waist. “We have plenty of time for me. I’ve been tortured into watching you wear these jeans for years without being able to appreciate your thighs.” His hands dropped from Max’s to grab at Max’s ass, palming it before sliding down and gripping Max’s thighs.

Max let out a soft sound, his hips twitching into thin air as Daniel gripped him before letting go and unhooking his button and unzipping his jeans with quick efficiency that had to come from practice. Max would ruminate over that later when he didn’t have Daniel’s hands down his pants, cupping him gently through his boxers.

Max had always been secretly ashamed of what he was (or wasn’t, rather) packing. Even the guy he fucked in the confession box had seemed a little shut down when he realized that Max didn’t exactly have the length to fuck him and so he’d have to top.

But Daniel looked down at what his hand was cupping and audibly moaned when he saw Max’s cock jutting out, barely the length of his middle finger and flushed an angry red from his want.

“I’m so-“ Max started and Daniel cut him off with a shake of his head, palming Max and wrapping his thumb and forefinger around him, stroking him as he used his other hand to press his thumb against the mole on Max’s lip, effectively shutting him up.

“You drive me insane with how perfect you are, don’t you dare apologize.” Daniel’s eyes flared with more fire as he spoke. Max’s lips parted, not to disagree but to take Daniel’s thumb into his mouth, sucking in long draws when he couldn’t think of anything else. He needed something to ground himself before he came all over Daniel’s hand from some heavy petting and praise.

Daniel’s tail crept down the back of Max’s boxers, which were now sagging down his thighs, the poker end gently pressing against him as if Daniel was trying to breach him. Max’s hand flew up to grip Daniel’s hair but caught on his horn, grabbing the first thing felt for purchase as the end gently probed against him, his toes curling in his borrowed shoes.

This was going to end embarrassingly quickly if Daniel didn’t stop using everything he had against Max.

Max hissed, sounding muffled against Daniel’s thumb as he continued to use his tail on him, not pushing far, just enough to make Max feel set on fire from his greatest fantasy coming to life.

“You want my tail?” Daniel asked, seemingly blown away by Max’s reaction to some light exploring. Max felt feverish at the suggestion, just nodding as his eyes fluttered open and then shut, the whole image too much for him.

Daniel took his thumb from Max’s mouth, even as Max tried to chase it, worrying that he would spill just how much he wanted every part of Daniel inside of him at once and how much he had fantasized it.

He heard a snap before he felt something cold drip down his crack and over hole, slick and viscous. He realized, probably a couple seconds too late, that Daniel had conjured lube so he could give Max just that.

The first press of Daniel’s tail inside of him had him feeling light headed as Daniel slowly stroked him, thumb pressing the under side of his cock deliciously, seemingly deeply aware of what made Max tick already.

Max gasped as it breached him fully, curled up inside of him and just tad too hot to be fully human, making him swear as he attempted to rock back against it, his fingers curling around Daniel’s horns even more, yanking him down as Daniel gasped as well, mouth instinctively sealing against Max’s collarbone.

Max’s horns were very sensitive and they were only a third of the size of Daniel’s, so he can’t imagine just how sensitive Daniel’s were with how Max was holding onto them.

Daniel’s tail curled inside of Max again and he felt himself hurdling down the cliff into pure bliss as he moaned, spilling onto Daniel’s hand embarrassingly quick, clenching around Daniel’s tail as he came down.

Daniel as breathing heavily, his hand that caught Max’s cum furiously stroking himself off, his mouth still sucking on Max’s neck as he hurdled down after Max, spurred on by the way that Max was stroking his horns, watching with his mouth dropped open in awe.

“Fuck.” Daniel half laughed once they were both breathing normally, his tail still in Max. “We need to see just how much of my tail you can take.”

[thatgirlstrawberry]

How to Lie to a Behavior Analyst pt. 5

In which Rossi flies down to LA that very night and Y/N finds out who her attacker is along with how her dad had known all along

Warnings: angst, crying, sadness, protective rossi, cursing, lmk if I missed anything!!!

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Every hour in a hospital had been said to last 500 when you were waiting on someone you love. Spencer sat in the waiting room with his leg bouncing up and down. His eyes were trained on a spot in the floor.

On the phone, Rossi said that he was on his way and that he would be there in an hour or two because he would be taking the jet. He also sounded angry, scared, worried— just all of the emotions really.

A million thoughts ran through his head. Who would want to hurt Y/N? What did the note say— the note.

He quickly got up from his seat and rushed towards the doors he came in from. He decided that he should probably move it so ambulances could come in.

So that’s what he did. He quickly moved it out of the way and into a parking space near the doors before turning on the lights in the car and looking for the note.

He avoided the bag of puke sitting on the floor and searched for the piece of paper.

When he finally found it, he decided that he’d wait until he was inside to read it so, he stuck it in his pocket.

His feet carried him quickly into the hospital and he looked around. His eyes landed on a familiar figure damn near leaning over the reception desk.

“I don’t care who fucking brought her here, take me to my damn daughter or I swear to god I’m gonna—“

“Rossi! Rossi, stop!” Spencer shouted, rushing up to him.

The man turned around. “What the fuck happened, Spencer!?” He shouted. “Why won’t anyone tell me anything?”

Spencer was going to answer but he saw the doctor who took Y/N coming their way. “Her doctor.” He pointed.

Rossi moved away from Spencer and met the doctor halfway. “Please, you gotta tell me what’s wrong with my daughter.”

Spencer made his way to them and the doctor glanced between them. “You’re the father and you’re the husband?” He asked.

Rossi shook his head. “This— no this is not her husband. It doesn’t matter, what’s wrong with her. What happened?”

The doctor clicked his tongue. “We pulled some of her blood for testing but I suspect she was injected with a high dosage of Opiates causing her to overdose. We gave her narcan but I’m not sure we gave it to her in time to prevent any brain damage.”

Rossi sighed and covered his face. “Okay— how is she? Can I see her?”

The doctor nodded. “She just woke up but she’s not fully down from her high. Her words aren’t gonna be coherent but I would try to keep her awake for as long as possible so we can asses her brain activity.”

Spencer and Rossi nodded. “Thank you.”

“And try to talk one at a time. Don’t confuse her.” He waved his hand and began walking back towards the room.

It was silent between Spencer and Rossi as they walked. The doctor rambled on about her symptoms and side effects.

He lowered his voice to a whisper and smiled as he walked I to the room. “Y/N?” He spoke. She sat in bed, a frown on her lips. Her eyes were narrowed and they were darting around the room.

“Hi…” She spoke quietly, her voice hoarse.

The doctor glanced back at the two men. “There are some people here to see you.”

They stepped into the room and she looked confused for a moment. “Daddy?” She whispered. She looked at Spencer.

“Hi, Y/N.” Rossi spoke softly, walking up to his daughter’s bed. “How are you feeling?”

She cleared her throat. “Uh… I don’t know how I feel.” She shrugged.

Rossi nodded. “That’s okay, honey.”

Her lip quivered and tears filled her eyes. “Am I dying? I-I don’t know why I’m here— I think I’m dying— Spencer, please. I don’t wanna die.”

Spencer walked up to her, looking at Rossi making sir he knew that it was his turn to speak. “You’re not dying, Y/N.” He shook his head with a small comforting smile. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Her hands fidgeted with each other. “W-well what happened? I don’t know what happened.”

“We’re not sure yet, honey.” Rossi answered. Her head snapped over to his direction. “But we’re gonna figure it out, all right?”

Spencer cleared his throat. “I need to talk to you.” He told Rossi, nodding towards the door.

He nodded and looked at his daughter. “We’ll be right back, okay? Try to stay awake for me.” The men walked out of the room after she nodded sleepily.

“What, Reid?” Rossi snapped when they were in the hallway.

Spencer took the piece of paper out of his pocket. “This. On the way here, she said whoever did this gave it to her.”

Rossi snatched it from between his fingers and unfolded it. “‘A liar, your… father is… I deserve someone too. The twig’s heart will be snapped in half when I get you back because it will be forever. And you will be mine.’” Rossi furrowed his brows. “What the hell is this? What does it mean?”

Spencer shrugged. “I don’t know. Our best bet right now is to look at the hotel security cameras. We might catch him there.”

Rossi sighed. “You know I’m gonna have to call the team if we can’t do it ourselves right?”

Spencer nodded. “Rossi, please. Please don’t tell anyone about us. That way, I can still work on the case. You know that you need me.”

The man sighed. “Why don’t you get ahold of the LAPD. I need to stay with my daughter.”

Spencer nodded and sighed heavily, walking away and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

The LAPD showed up at the hospital and hour after Spencer called them. He stood outside of Y/N’s room getting the sense that Rossi didn’t want him in there.

The doctor told them that a side effect of the Narcan they gave her was crying so he stood out there listening to her sob uncontrollably. Rossi had to resort to singing her an old Italian nursery rhyme to get her to calm down.

The lead detective met Spencer in the hallway followed by a few officers. “Good evening. Mr. Reid?”

He kicked off of the wall and nodded. “Yes, hi. Detective Lassiter, thank you for coming.” He nodded.

“So, unfortunately, we don’t have a warrant to look at the security camera footage.” Detective Lassiter explained. “But we do have permission to sweep the floor for any DNA left on the walls and floors only.”

Spencer was angry. “No cameras? Are you fucking serious?” His chest heaved. His fists were in tight balls.

He nodded somberly. “I’m sorry sir. We’re gonna need to ask the victim some questions, if now’s a good time.”

Spencer shrugged. “I’m sure she won’t remember anything but you can try.”

He turned into the room and his eyes softened when he saw Y/N in her father’s arms rocking back and forth.

“Y/N?” He called softly. She lifted her head from her father’s shoulder and looked at him.

“Oh h-hi.” She looked at the men behind her.

He walked forward slowly. “This is detective Lassiter. He wants to ask you a few questions, is that okay?”

Y/N looked at her dad nervously. “C-can I?” She asked. Rossi tilted his head and nodded.

The woman sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. She looked up at Spencer and glanced at the chair next to her bed with pleading eyes.

He cleared his throat and moved through the room, sitting beside her. He scooted the chair a little closer.

Detective Lassiter sat in the chair in front of the bed and the officer behind him pulled out a pen and pad.

“What’s your name, ma’am?” He asked.

She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Y/N R-Rossi.”

The officer scribbled down on the paper. “And how old are you?”

“26.”

The detective straightened up and cleared his throat. “And I understand that you were… taken out of the hotel by someone. Do you remember what you were doing when it happened?”

Y/N inhaled sharply. “I uh… I remember my teeth hurting.” Her voice was quiet. “And it was cold. And I remember… Ice.” She shook her head.

She glanced up at the officer who was nodding and writing. “Anything else?”

She looked down at her fidgeting hands. “I know… he said something to me.” She nodded. “I can’t remember— I just know he said— something.” Her eyes watered. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember anything else.”

She reached for Spencer’s hand but remembered who all was in the room and played it off like she was just grabbing the edge of her itchy hospital blanket.

The detective nodded. “Okay that’s okay. Take your time.” He sighed. “Can you remember anything before the ice.”

Y/N pressed her lips together. “Um… her eyebrows furrowed. Um… sweating a-and feeling really… good.” Spencer could tell that she didn’t know what was happening. She was describing the sex that they had before she left the room.

Rossi behind her and glared at Spencer. Of course he knew what was happening. He cleared his throat. “Okay. That’s it, detective. Thank you.” The father nodded. “I think Y/N needs some rest.”

He nodded. “Of course.” He got up from his seat, looking at Y/N. “Ms. Rossi, thank you. If you remember anything else, give me a call.” He leaned forward and placed a card on her bed.

She nodded and looked at her father and then Spencer. “Thank you. I will.”

The officers and Detective Lassiter left the room and it fell silent. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

She let out a heavy breath. “I’m trying to remember the words.” She said. “I— I Can hear the voice but the sounds are— like mixed a-and I don’t know- I can’t—“

Rossi shushed her soothingly. “It’s okay, Y/N. I promise. We’ll find this son of a bitch one way or another.” Y/N nodded and Rossi stood up. “I’m going to go get you something to eat, okay?”

She gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, dad.”

He left the room and she looked at her boyfriend. “W-wait, Spencer why does he think you’re here?” She asked. He looked at her with furrowed brows and parted lips. “Wait, how did he even hear about this? Did someone call him?”

Spencer sighed and leaned forward. “Um… Y/N, he knows.”

Her eyes widened. “He knows?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She covered her face with her hands and groaned quietly. “Is he mad at me?” She asked. “At you? Oh, I don’t want him to be mad at you.” She shook her head.

“He hasn’t said anything about it yet. He’s not mad.”

Spencer still felt like he was lying to her somehow.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Spencer paced the halls of the hospital trying to get ahold of Penelope. He bit his lip as the phone rang too slowly for his liking.

“Boy wonder! How’s your mommy trip?” She asked when she answered the phone.

He cleared his throat. “Garcia, I need you to hack into a set of hotel security cameras but I need you to do it privately.” He spoke. “And I need you to send the feed to my phone.”

“Uhhhhhh first of all, say hi to me first. Second of all, why and what hotel?”

He licked his lips. “Hi, García. Angeles, 6th floor please.” He nodded.

“You never said why, Reid.” She hummed.

“Because I’m trying to figure out who drugged Y/N, now can you please just do it?” He snapped.

There was a gulp on the other end and his phone made a beeping noise. He pulled it away from his ear and pressed accept on a feed share notification.

Suddenly, his screen filled with a not so smooth video. “Can you switch angles so I can see room 612?” Spencer asked quietly, biting his lip. The camera switched angles four times until it stopped so they can clearly see the room and the ice machine across the hallway. “Okay, now can you back it up to like 9:45 pm?” He asked.

The video began to reverse itself quickly and Spencer saw a familiar figure on the screen. “Okay, stop!” He shouted.

Garcia stopped pressed rewind and let the feed play. Y/N was seen walking out of a hotel room with a black bucket. She had a smile on her face and a pep in her step.

She stopped at the ice machine and a figure dressed in black pants and a black shirt came from the entry way of the hall. It didn’t look like Y/N noticed him. He came up behind her and grabbed a handful of ice out of the bucket and shoved it into her mouth. There was no sound on the feed but he could tell that was to muffle her shouts.

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and brought the phone closer to his face. He hated seeing her like this but he had to figure out who did this to her.

Y/N began kicking her feet as he lifted her off the ground with one arm as he reached into his pocket with his other. The bucket fell from her hands and spilled all over the floor. Spencer’s eyebrows popped up when he saw her bite his hand.

Then, he pulled a syringe out of his pocket and jabbed it harshly into her neck. She went limp in his arms and a few ice chips fell from her mouth.

He put her down on her feet and propped her against his side and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. Her feet were barely moving and her head hung down low.

“Oh my god.” Penelope gasped.

Spencer shook his head. “Rewind it to the part where he came into the shot.” He ordered.

She did and he told her to pause and zoom in. “There.”

“Is that…?” Penelope started.

“Benjamin Fitz.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N looked between her dad and Spencer. Rossi still had no idea who drugged Y/N. Neither did the victim.

“Okay.” He looked at Rossi. “I know I wasn’t supposed to do this but I called Garcia and I had her hack into the security cameras at the hotel.”

Rossi sighed. “What the hell, Reid.”

“Just stop- I know who did this.” He told them. “It was Benjamin Fitz.”

Rossi looked down and Y/N gasped. “No, no. That’s right.” She nodded. “I think I recognized his voice. I knew I recognized his voice.”

The older man sighed. “Shit, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

She furrowed her brows. “Dad, it’s not your fault-“

“I only set you up with him because I wanted to get back at you and Spencer for going behind my back.” Y/N paused her movements and looked up at him. Spencer shut his eyes like he didn’t want Rossi to say anything.

Y/N scoffed. “Wait. Y-you knew?” She asked, her face getting hot. Rossi nodded and she looked at Spencer, tearing up. “And you knew that he knew?”

Spencer opened his mouth but no words came out.

“So.. you set me up with a psycho because you were mad and you…” She looked at her boyfriend. “You let me run around like an idiot when I didn’t even have to all along?”

“Y/N, I—“

“Get the fuck out.” She snapped. Rossi tilted his head but neither of them moved. “I’m serious get the fuck out!”

Rossi sighed and looked down before doing as she wished and leaving the room. Spencer was still left standing there. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t want—“

Y/N scoffed. “Spencer, get out. Seriously, I don’t want to see you right now.”

He let out a sad breath and turned around, walking out the door and shutting it.

Y/N sat there in tears for a moment.

A moment until she heard a shout and a gunshot.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

AHHHHHHHHHHH

Next chapter is the last!!!! Also who expected it to be Ben from the book party?!?!?

And the ending to this one might seem a little rushed so sorry about that :)))

Love ya bunches ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist:

@mrsgweasley

@tuesday-yellowxx

@blue-willows

@monzarella

@winkev1

@criminallymagic

@mermateyepmatewithte

@lipstixstain

@urlovelydarling

@dreatine

@f-me-reid

@fantastic-fans

@aleyda5

@thatsonezesty13

@creativeuser101

@d0ntfeedaftermidnight

@jacksonms31

@scorpiofangirl1109

@perseuswaves

@baseballmama35

@lilybarnesposts

@s-udaku-my-love

@melifluorei-d

@lavenderrway

[monimccoythings]

Bad Pick up Lines

I'm facing writer's block in this Bowser x reader so for now we are getting this T.T but I wanted to pull something after leaving it with a cliffhanger. I really love my Bowser x reader series hopefully I'll get to continue it some day.

`Previous Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4

tags: @loveforfandomsstuff @harpy-space (Please tell me if I'm forgetting someone, unfortunately I'm very dumb and forgetful)

Your head hurt, just like a nasty New Years Eve hangover. What happened?? The last things you remembered was a blast, a lot of fire and smoke and then...

Oh no.

You immediately opened your eyes. You were inside a darker and grittier castle, certainly not the Disney Princess vibe Peach had going on. What the fuck.

This couldn't be happening. You were dreaming. You had inhaled too much smoke and were in a coma at the ER. There was no way this was Bowser's castle.

He seemed to like the Middle Ages dark castle style, whelp at least the bed was cofortable. Still, you didn't want to stay longer than you needed to. If everything that had been told about your ex cutie patootie was true, which you were sure it was. What awaited you inside this walls was something worse than death.

Fuck, you had treated him like a pet, you had babie talked him, dressed him up, fed him apple slices and combed his luxurious red mane!! You would do all of that again given the chance tbh. It was worth it.

Escaping seemed impossible, the room you were in was too high; and the doors, though more obvious, were too heavy for you to move, whoever put you in there (Bowser) wanted to make sure you didn't get out.

You felt sick, even if you haven't had anything to eat since that morning. Was this how it ended?? With you dying because once you called the turtle equivalent of Genghis Khan 'chimken nugget'.

You heard thundering steps approaching your room. Big man was coming. There was no place for you to hide. Better face death with dignity.

The door opened and the King of Koopas himself came in. Woah. He was even bigger than you remembered, las time it was too smokey for you to see clearly, but boy did you see know his might and glory. I you put it him in your lap now the weight of his head alone could easily break your legs.

Your eyes quickly diverted towards his face, and noted that he looked anything but murderous. He had this weirdly dilated puppy eyes like the Puss in Boots in Shrek 2, his hair had been sliced back, and he was wearing a purple bowtie. Given his actual size, it wasn't as cute as he thought he would look. Still, you swallowed down the urge to laugh at the randomness of it all.

"Did you sleep well?" Wow, his voice was even more thunderous than last time, and now that it wasn't high pitched, it actually sounded kinda nice and fitting, but you couldn't let your guard down.

"Yeah?" You weren't sure where he was going with this. Bowser raised one eyebrow in confusion "Are you asking me?" "No?" God this was going to be a bloody mess.

Bowser, for a behemoth of his size and mass, looked kinda sheepish. It would be endearing if he didn't tower over you and could't crush you with a single hand.

"You-you know, it was quite helpful my bed was there..." He looked at something scribbled in his hand, squinting his eyes. "... for when you hell-fell! from Heaven..."

You snorted a bit, you couldn't help it, that was the worst pick up line you had ever heard. The tension dissipated from your body, only to return with full force when you realised that he may take offense in you laughing. You quickly clasped your hands over your mouth a blush colouring your cheeks.

Apparently he took it as you blushing with delight, because he shyly scratched the back of his head. It was cuteness oversized. For a second you saw your little buddy again, enjoying your pets, gradually warming up to you, and quietly listening when you rambled about everything that crossed your mind.

"Ha... that was a good one..." You managed to say. "I actually have like, so many more." He seemed happy that you had liked it. Oh you actually wanted to hear them all.

They did not disappoint, each one of them was as good (or bad) as the first one he had told. So cheesy. You felt more eased in his presence the more pick up lines he told, at certain point you felt like back at Peach's castle, but the sizes had been reversed. If you made a huge effort to look past the numerous atrocities he certainly had comitted, you could see that he was just lonely.

"Hey, wanna hear my pick up line?" For a second, he looked shocked. Nobody had ever told him a pick up line before. You cleared your throat, hoping it was as fun as it was to you. "So... Are you into the bad types? Because I am bad at everything."

His eyes shone with mirth, glad your audience loved your terrible sense of humour. You smiled at him and he smiled back. Peach had warned you due to previous experiences that once Bowser got a hold of someone he very rarely let them escape their grasp.

It seemed that Bowser had now moved his fixation towards you. Maybe you were not ready to jump into marriage immediately, and maybe you needed to return home to your job and duties. However, you wouldn't mind exchanging phone numbers... That could be a good start.

[ladyisabelsblade]

My Live Reactions to X-Men Origins: Wolverine

A text thread between me and my friend.

---

Just watched the opening sequence and it’s so fucking funny when you’re high

Dude that guy with the two guns, his sequence kind of slapped

And then the other guy punched a tank. Yo….

This Deadpool looks like an idiot with the swords but he’s still pretty funny lol

Why does he know Swahili?????

Oh no! They’re colonizers!!???

But not Wolverine, he cares about black people, that’s how you can tell he’s the good guy

Little brother, breaking cycles of abuse

JIMMY

--wolverine says racism is wrong! --have u seen his cartoon claws yet?

They didn’t look that bad but I am high so I don’t care

The action sequences aren’t half as bad as in last stand

Or at least I’m too high to notice if they are lol

WOAH SGIRT OFF

--u see a lot of hugh jackman nipples

Lumberjack Wolverine, wow

Just wow he’s wow

"Your country needs you” “I’m Canadian”

Aw, I like this girl. She’s so gonna die

What the fuck is this stupid story?

Even Logan thinks it’s stupid.

Most clumsily overt foreshadowing ever

Oop, yep she dying

--lmao --yea she lasts under 10 mins thats hilarious

Damn fucking eviscerated

Manly man scream

He ruthless

LMFAOOOO AND THEN HE GETS HIT BY A TRUCK

--relatable tbh

He’s so oiled up

Damn the dramatic irony is dramatic irony-ing

The Adamantium looks like the aftermath of a lush bath bomb

--ooooh ur not at the cartoon claws yet --he’s still all boney

Yee

LMAOOOO THEY LOOK PLASTIC

HIS ASS OUT

--ASS ASS ASS

Cover up your tits you preening slut precursor

They look so stupid just do practical effects you idiots

YES THE JACKET

WHAAAAATTTT HOW COULD YOU KILL THAT OLD LADY WTF

I should have seen that coming

EXPLOSIONS SLAY QUEEN

--who exploded things?

Everyone but Logan exploding the helicopter was slay queen

--lol this movie is such a blur for me, i love reexperiencing in real time

Oh this is the bad part

Fucking blob omg

--ah yes --and will i am

I like will I am he ain’t bad

And boxer Logan, boxer Logan is saving this scene for me

--idr him good or bad, i just remember he's will i am

He is

I laughed so hard when his name came up during the opening credits

--its a great jumpscare

Local man discovers his girlfriend was fridged for his character development

REMY LA BOU

OH NO HES HOT

--is this the first time uv seen gambit in something? like have u seen him in the cartoons or stuff?

and poker? This is like combining every old lady white woman’s wet dream together: lumberjack, boxer, poker player

No I’ve never seen the cartoons man

--by far the most loved x-man

GRABBED HIM BY THE SPINE WHAT THE DUCK

gambit slays here dude

Will I am dead

--u have the best one liners omg

I’m over an hour in and I’m really enjoying this movie, being high is really elevating my experience

--its probably greaat high ngl

It’s just like fun moment after fun moment, I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense

--its my dad's favorite hated movie --its so fun

He’s right, I can’t believe you told me this was worse than last stand

--idr last stand at all ngl

Oh, well it was really bad

My man is more okay with jumping out of a plane than flying in one

SCOTT

YOUR EYES SCOTT

sir this is an operating room you can’t be here

Damn, this is freaky, I thought Stryker was a creep in x2

KAYLAS BACK

WHAT THE FUCK

oh it’s mystique isn’t it

NO ITS NOT WHAT THE FUCK

Damn that’s cold

No, poor baby he’s so sad

They were together for 6 years damn

Yo this is so dope

This fight

--have u gotten to deadpool

Kayla, now is not the time

Not yet

--thats THE thing

I know

But here he comes

HE LOOKS SO STUPID

XAVIER MY MAN

Yo the black around the eyes thing kind of slayed tho

Damn fucking sliced his head off

Oh shit damn

Do they look out for eachother because you kind of suck ass victor

YESSSSS GAMBIT

Kayla come on don’t die

Again

HOLY SHIT STRYJER

AYO WHAT THE FUCK

girl this movies good I don’t know what you’re talking about

That was so slay Kayla

But you’re still probably dying

PROFESSOR

I LOVE YOU EVEN THIUGH YOURE BADLY CGIED

LNAO THE MUTANTS RUNNING AWAY

he don’t even remember her that’s so fucking sad dude

damn wtf tear my heart out why don’t ya

This movies cheesy but it’s hitting all the right beats

Like this is a pretty good origin story movie

Probably a horrible stand alone movie, but if I pretend like I’m watching a bunch of flashbacks stitched together it’s pretty good

Oooo two post credits scenes

LMAO TEASING A DEADPOOL COMEBAJX BUT HE NEVER DOES

--he kiinda does

In Deadpool 2?

--yea lol

Comes back just to die

--good

lol he wasn’t too bad but I think I’d have a different opinion if he was sober and there weren’t already two other great Deadpool movies

[namecantbeblank]

Can you give me a little TL:DR for begore the brazilians came? It's just too much to accompany and im lazy, sorry-

Anon, there is a ton to go over, but I'll just give you some big plot points okay? I'll try to organize them! People please reblog/comment with more points. Sit back. Hold your breath. This won't be in exact order, and this is slightly English POV heavy, but it's what I can think of right now.

Before Eggs:

The original Spanish and English members arrive on a train, split into two groups. They solve puzzles to escape and blow up the wall that was separating them both.

They 'meet' the Duck through videos, telling them what to and most importantly, to not blow up the wall, which Vegetta immediately does.

They meet Osito Bimbo / Cucurucho , a fully white snowman/bear like creature that claims they're from the QSMP census bureau. Seems harmless, and some fun is had with them.

La Villa de Sacapuntas is created, consisting of Wilbur, Jaiden, Phil, and Slimecicle, serving as an early civilization and interaction before Spreen, Missa and Roier took it over. Lots of lighthearted events here, great interactions between people.

Everything is lighthearted for a bit until the egg event. I honestly recommend watching day 1 vods.

Egg Event:

Live translation is introduced, as well as the eggs! Players are introduced to the concept, rules and partnerships regarding the eggs, which are as follows:

The eggs are Dragon eggs, and players must protect them until the mother returns.

Each Egg has two lives. They may be lost through dying or failing to complete egg tasks (Lethal and Happiness tasks)

The family with the happiest egg will be rewarded, and any families with eggs that die will be punished.

Each family has a partner who speaks a different language (minus single parents, Bad and Quackity)

If an egg bed is broken, the egg loses a life.

Everyone adopts their eggs, names them and gets their partners. Some parents, like Phil and Missa and Spreen and Fit, have one of their partners go on a trip, so they're basically single parents.

Families begin, some more stable than others, and egg personalities are learned.

Family Disputes, Early deaths, and Satan:

In the early days of the eggs being around, there were a few deaths, but none permanent.

Families like Charlie and Mariana, Quackity and Tilin and Max and Dan quickly show how dysfunctional they are. Either with outright arguments or lack of proper interaction with their egg. But everyone tries their best

Families like Roier and Jaiden, Philza and Missa, and Bad and Dapper are very positive and have little issues for the most part. Everyone is becoming attatched to these eggs.

A new person joins the party: Satan (The Devil) and Lil J (The Angel/Jesus). Played by Rubius, each of these characters talk with the parents and give them rewards for performing tasks. The Angel also has contact with a higher God, allowing eggs to be revived or given another life.

Egg Death 1: Misclick

After going AFK, Mariana accidentally clicks on Juanaflippas bed and destroys it, taking her last life.

Everyone is distraught, especially Charlie.

Charlie goes a bit insane. He starts a plan of revenge, trying to murder all the other eggs in an attempt to bring Juanaflippa back. He fails and is talked down.

Egg Death 1.2: The Rebirth of Juanaflippa and The Court Case

After failing to kill the other eggs, Charlie starts a court case against Mariana. He gets five lawyers. He kind of loses.

This is honestly a stream worth watching from any POV. Very funny.

The Judge allows Juanaflippa to be reborn. The dysfunctional family is back together.

Charlie and Mariana make up and have sex. Again. This happens multiple times on screen. I hate them

Egg Death 1.3: She fucking died

After Charlie exiles himself, Juanaflippa and Mariana stay in the greater island.

Mariana, while fighting a vindicator, fucking kills Juanaflippa again

Osito Bimbo visits Charlie in exile to tell him his egg is dead. Charlie doesn't believe them, and they have an argument.

Both parents are in a strong stage of grief, wanting to kill other eggs sometimes.

There is a semi-ongoing attempt to bring her back.

Egg Death 2: The Neglect of Trump

After the court case, Trump loses his second life. His parents are Maximus and DanTDM- Dan hasn't been on since the beginning, and Max forgot to take care of him.

Maximus goes a little crazy after. I don't remember the details but he started like, eating a lot

Trump has been found in the promotional posters tho?? And there's a lot sus about him. Don't quote me on that though.

Egg Death 3: Misclick PT.2 + Quackitys downfall

Before Juanaflippa died the second time, she and Charlie were taking care of Tilin. Tilin was going to go with Roier, who usually took care of them, but Charlie took her instead. During the night, Charlie accidentally hit Tilin while fighting a mob with a sword, killing him.

Juanaflippa is distraught that her friend died, Roier is yelling at Charlie, and Charlie and Mariana are officially named misclick duo.

Quackity finds out. He's out for revenge. He goes mental, planning on killing eggs and Charlie. He is eventually talked down a bit by Wilbur, forming his attachment to Tallulah, but it doesn't end there.

(Modern day) Later on, in the strip club, Vegetta and Roier perform a... show.. for Quackity specifically, where Quackity reveals he wants to kill the eggs still. He's basically just been spiraling since his kid died.

The Funeral

The third official event scheduled, the funeral was an event to remember Tilin, Trump and Juanaflippa. Slimecicle watches from exile as the other parents of the dead kids speak.

Mariana tries to blow up the chapel and everyone in it. He was stopped.

They all go to the graveyard after, where the cameras are destroyed (Max thought they were from the census bureau), and Osito Bimbo appears.

Osito leads the parents to a place, much like a limbo, where they can see their dead eggs one more time. Charlie comes back from exile for this.

Bad and Spreen fight lmao

As a result, Quackity asks Charlie to fight, and Charlie lets him win.

Wilburs return/Tallulah

I think he technically came back a bit before the funeral

But when Wilbur returns after being on Tour, him Fit and Phil go to the adoption center and check the attic.

They find an egg, Tallulah, and Wilbur adopts her.

They spend the day making the house, when Quackity comes up to him

Quackity thinks Wilbur is the father of Tilin, so they have a whole argument, and Wilbur goes to Tilins grave.

They end on decent terms, but later on Quackity insists on taking care of Tallulah, calling her his adoptive daughter, etc. Even when Phil is taking care of her. You see this become a bigger issue in recent streams

The Rise of Gegg

Charlie Slimecicle, grief-ridden and poor, makes a plan with Quackity to make a fake egg to rob people. It quickly gets out of hand.

Charlie morphs into a green, squishy egg and is found In a room in the adoption center. By using the excuse that Charlie is in exile, and with this egg acting like a regular egg, Gegg is now created.

Quackity adopts Gegg but quickly abandons him, so Gegg has to interact with others for help

Not many people really like Gegg. But Charlie is committed to the bit. He is Gegg now. Gegg is real. Gegg has taken over Charlie. Gegg. Gegg. Gegg.

Six Days.

The members get a video stating that in six days, their eggs will die. There is also a secret code in the video that hasn't canonically been solved

Panic and disbelief obviously happen, and parents take the time to take care of their kids and do extra events with them.

The night before the sixth was very emotional.

Parents wake up to their kids being gone, and the Brazilians coming in the ship.

Other points I couldn't fit in:

There are so many relationships, flirting and cheating that there's no way for me to list them all. But it does create drama. This is gay island at this point. LGBTQsmp.

The mobs are progressively getting stronger and harder, with new strange mobs appearing

The Code Monster, as we see more of now, attacked Phil before he and Fit killed them.

Roier becomes a psychologist and also has a female counterpart named Melissa.

There are some cases where people have "Nightmares," aka noncanon egg deaths. Sometimes there's a mob that is uneccessarily strong, lag happens, or other circumstances that lead them to giving the egg their life back and the event being retconned. Examples of this are Chayanne and Tallulah, Dapper, and Bobby

Luzu has a whole arc about being like, a robot? Arin? But I'm not caught up on that. Someone help

Bad is often the designated babysitter for eggs, followed by Phil

Maximus is actually a really fucking good actor and won awards for roleplaying. Fun fact

Maximus had a chess match with Osito Bimbo, which ended up in Osito giving him information.

I'm going to tell you right now, I could probably make a whole other list of running inside jokes

Quackity is canonically two people. English Quackity and Spanish Quackity

Roier got stabbed by Spreen with the help of Quackity, and is now looking for revenge

Check out clip channels/tiktoks for fun stuff. There's some blogs here too!

Hope this helped some, Anon! I know this is a big read but I hope you can at least scan and understand. If anyone has anything to add please reblog!

[itsohh]

Mi Calvario

A/N: Female reader, didn't want to write a full series so here's just a bunch of snippets of events that took place. Anything in box brackets is spoken in Spanish. (Because like who wants to try scroll for a key during a fic, not me and my Spanish is horrible. (I cheated in Spanish class in highschool))

Summary: With Las Almas in ruin, Rudy makes sures to check up on the only other Vaqueros who isn't in prison. Wife of Alejandro, you insist on joining Rudy in the fight. Despite the constantly underlying illness that keeps you out of the field, your determined to fight for your home.

Word count: 1981

Warnings: None

AO3 Masterlist

Ever one with the shadows, Ghost paused with his reunion with Rudy. "Who's your friend?" His eyes glanced to the darkest corner of the room, Soaps soon followed his lead. Soap really had to squint and then the smallest movement came.

"[Stand down.]" Rudy didn't need to turn his head for you to know he was speaking to you.

"[Look at you Rudy, still making friends even at this age huh?]" Out from the shadows you stepped, rifle now slung over your shoulder.

"[More of Alejandro's friends but eh.]"

"[Always was the one to work well with others.]" You fiddled with the strap of your glove around your rist, tightening it slightly.

In full view of the moon light the two SAS operatives were able to see your full form.

"Forgive me, this Ghost and Soap."

"Pleasure." Soap smiled and Ghost nodded to you.

"This is Major-"

"Ah not any more. That's you now." You tutted. Rudy paused and glanced towards the men.

"She's ex Vaqueros."

"Ex?" Soap raised a brow.

"Retired if you believe it. Well, at least I was until the entire fucking city went up in smoke."

"Bit young to be retired?" Soaps question had you light slightly under your breath.

"Ah, a charmer. My retirement wasn't one of my own will. Medical reasons. Active duty kept it making it worse." A sigh left your mouth. "I would have kept working until I dropped but ah Alejandro wouldn't have it. Caring bastard. Don't worry, it won't affect my performance." You gave him a wink.

"Alejandro's going to kill me for getting you involved."

"Think the whole citys involved at this point. Think the question is, what is this? What shit have we stepped into?"

Ghost glanced at Soap, a small nod before he opened his mouth.

-

"So, your close with Alejandro?" Soap asked as the four of you approached the prison.

"Very."

"What made you join the Vaqueros?"

"Alejandro of course. There's not many people out there who are as passionate about their home like he is. I was I suppose when it comes down to it, a drifter. Just went and did what my military told me to. It wasn't until I met Alejandro that I realized why we fight. His passion is contagious." There was a gleen to your eyes as you spoke.

"You sound like you idolized him."

"I do, in a way. If there's anyone worth dying for it would be him."

"[Yeah but he's also your husba-]" Rudy started to speak before you interupted him with a harsh but non serious tone.

"[Shut up.]" A deep breath left your lips. "[I'll have you know, I've believe that long since anything happened between us. Besides you feel the same way, I don't see how that would relate at all.]"

"[I wasn't trying to make an attack I was just bringing it up.]" The pair of you started to bicker, still rather teasing. Your words so fast, Soap wasn't unable to keep up. Ghost could.

-

"I'll take point." You nodded to Ghost as he braced against Alejandro's cell door. At your signal, he opened the door and you took a step in. To an empty room? Your thought and slight confusion was cut off when your back slammed against the wall of the cell. Alejandro's arm pressed against your throat and anger consumed his face. Despite the pain, you couldn't help but stare at him in glee. You loved to see him like this and it felt far too long since you had seen him at all. The sweet sound of Alejandro's demanding voice filled your ears and Rudy quickly jumped to your defense.

Alejandro's eyes blinked and he glanced from Rudy to you. "[If you wanted to get rough darling I won't complain but perhaps let's keep that to our bedroom hmm?]" You groaned slightly and Alejandro immediately stepped forward even closer. There was no gap between the two of you. Both hands on the side of your face, his lips roughly pressed against yours. A thousand words all put in one kiss.

"Oh!" Soaps' surprised voice broke the pair of you from your little world.

Just as quickly as it started, he stopped.

The group of you had a job to do.

"[What are you doing here, you should be safe at home?]" His voice was one of concern but still adoration. It seems it was a mutual agreement that the pair of you hadn't seen each other recently enough.

"[And leave you to rot in this old prison? Never.]" He flashed you a smile as he was given a weapon.

"[That's my girl. My Calvary eh?]"

"[Make no mistake darling, I'm still very much retired. I'm not Calvary anymore."]

"[Nonsense, your always my Calvary, once Vaqueros always Vaqueros.]"

-

Gloves off, Alejandro subtly rubbed your hand while Price made his speech. When you went to reach for the mask, Alejandro grip tightened.

"[This isn't your fight.]" His voice hush, low enough for only you to hear.

"[Did all those years mean nothing? Los Vaqueros is my family, Alejandro. That place is my home too. I'm not letting some fucking entitled little American take it. He needs to pay for burning our city.]" Alejandro glanced away for a moment but let go of your hand.

"[I missed seeing that fire of yours.]" He grinned, eventually turning back to face you, he wouldn't fight you on this. Alejandro gave you a nod as you took the mask into your personal. There was still a lot of prep to do.

-

Adjusting the scope on your gun, you didn't look up as Soap approached you. Ghost hovered near by the man, an eye on the pair of you. "You alright?" He placed your gloves on the crate near to you. They had been on the planning table.

"No complaints here Sergeant."

"Arthritis?" He glanced down towards your hands. "You keep stretching your hands."

"Carpal tunnel." You looked up and placed the gun down before you hopped up on the grate. "The vibrations from gunfire make it flare up."

"Alejandro seemed worried. He keeps staring at your hands."

"Mmm." You eyes flashed over to Alejandro you true to Soaps words, was staring at you. When you eyes caught his, he gave you a smile and looked back towards Rudy who was well used to his behavior. "He's protective like that. When this is over, ugh I'm not going to be able to do anything around the house." Despite the annoyance in your voice, there was a warm smile on your face.

"How long have the pair of you been together? I don't think I've seen anyone look at another person like Alejandro looks at you."

"Ah, officially about four years give or take. [What about Ghost?]" Your eyes flashed over to the man who stood, watching and no doubtly listening to your conversation. Soap gave you a slightly confused look while Ghost silently glared into your soul. He certainly heard you. A laugh bubbled from your chest and you lightly hit the side of his arm. "Ah perhaps you will understand when your older Sergeant."

"Heard that one before. Why'd they call you Calverio?"

"Calvary. Ah you show up one time on horseback and you don't hear the end of it."

"What happened?"

"Ask Alejandro that one when you're not busy. It's his favourite story to exaggerate. His entire face lights up. Only other story that makes his face light up I think is our wedding day."

"A good day I presume."

"One of the best, a little bit daunting on my side though."

"How so?"

"Ah, lots of people, lots of traditions. It's was a massive, massive festival. Then there was always that unlying threat. What if someone took this opportunity to kill us."

"Someone would do that?"

"People will do anything when they're desperate. When their hate rules their honor."

"Ain't that the truth."

"But." Your face lit up with a smile. "Everything went according to plan. I remember him complaining about his checks hurting a few days later from smiling too much." Your smile turned into a laugh. "I actually have a photo in my wallet if you would like to see."

"Of course, bit surprised you have it on you."

"I came in my normal clothing. I use these shoes to do shopping." You hummed and brought out your wallet. Soap watched as you pulled back a small compartment and pulled out a picture. It had creases on the folds and could see how you had taped it up to prevent it from deterioration. He leaned forward and moved next to you to look at the picture.

There in the middle of a massive group of people, the pair of you stood. Both dressed in white surrounded by friends and family. He could see the walls of brightly coloured flowers in the background only outshone by the smiles on your face. At first, Soap could only recognise the pair of you and Rudy who stood next to Alejandro.

"Wow, you look beautiful."

"I'm just glad you can't notice that I was still crying."

"You were crying?"

"Yeah, Alejandro was crying too. That happened at the reception though. I think that's when it was sinking in." Soap squinted at the picture for a moment.

"Is that Laswell?" He pointed to the back of the picture. It was almost impossible to see her with the woman next to her.

"It is. Yeah, Kate and her wife showed for the ceremony. Didn't stay too long at reception. They didn't really know too many other people. Regardless, it was good to see them. Mmm, if we ever end up renewing our vows you should come. It would be fun to have you all there."

"And see Alejandro, a blubbering mess? Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Of course that's if we get around to it. Maybe one day in the future. Alejandro's a very busy man and this whole thing is going to make him a lot busier. Perhaps he would let me come back to work." You hummed, your eyes trailing off the picture to find Alejandro but failing your mission.

"Not going to happen." A hand on your shoulder practically made you jump. So used to Alejandro's movements, you had almost become immune to it. His steps, his presence didn't set off a single red flag in your head so often he would get the element of surprise on you. "Showing Soap pictures of our wedding are you?" You head turned to see that light expression on his face.

"Just the one. I could do some desk work-"

"[No. I recall the doctor saying that desk work would perhaps make your hands even worse.]"

"Ah there's no arguing with you about this is there. Can't blame a girl for trying no?"

-

"[Perfect time to renovate.]" The pair of you stared at the base.

"[Will have to.]" He agreed. "[How's the house?]"

"[Unaffected. The Shadows didn't come that far out.]" He turned to face you, suspicion on his face. "[Rudy originally only came to check up on me.]"

"[Let me guess, you insisted on join him?]"

"[He could get all the help he could and you know he was never really good at saying no to me.]"

"[That's only because you don't listen when people tell you no.]"

"[Your one to talk Colonel.]" You drape your wrists around his neck, his eyes on yours. "[I felt like I've just woken up from a nightmare in a way. All this destruction doesn't seem real.]"

"[Mmm woken from a nightmare into a dream perhaps.]" His eyes flickered from yours down to your lips for a moment, you knew exactly what he wanted. A request you were happy to make. With a roll of your eyes you granted his silent request, his upon his as the sun set behind you.

[freddie-77-ao3]

Percy Jackson-esque Chapter Titles for a fic i'm writing:

We have friends in holy places (and unholy- Hello Lady Hera!)

What’s Up, Random Person, We’re Kidnapping and Adopting You

Yeah, The Beach Is Nice- Thank You For Not Drowning Us

Hazel Was Dead and Still Knows More Than You

Thank Fuck For The Egyptian- How the Hell Did We End Up In Great Britain

Annabeth Is Obsessed and Bianca Is Possessed- There Goes Christmas

Question Of Our Lives and Today Especially: What The Hell Is Going On?!

Now Would Be A Good Time To Be Anyone Else

Call The Police Because We May Have Just Murdered A Mortal

Ask And You Shall Receive… Sometime In The Next Twenty Years Probably

A Guinea Pig, A Dandelion, A Pine Tree, An Olive Tree and Two Embarrassed Girls Walk Into A Bar  

Satan Or Santa? Neither Should Exist And Yet Somehow They’re Both Knocking On Our Tent Door

A Slight Reprieve From The Last Chapter: Connor Comes For You With The Question ‘Do Tents Have Doors?’

And We’re Back, Why Did You Guys Think Our R&R Would Last Long?

Sugar, Spice, Almost Dying Twice (Today)

Would You Put ‘Cheating Death Almost Daily’ Under Experience Or Special Skills?

An Inspirational Trip Through Hell- Persephone Makes Good Brownies

Those Commercials Where People Screw Up The Most Basic Of Tasks In The Most Idiotic Fashion Ever Describes The Current Situation

As The Prophecy Foretold (We Made It Up, But It Came True)

Living Normally? In This Economy?

And Then The Wolves Came… Sike (Thank Fuck)

The Snails Paced Chocolate Bunny Gives Mixed Messages But Good Cereal

What The Hades Is Going On, Someone Explain

Apparently Exploding A Volcano Makes Us 'Irresponsible’

Why Are Cats So Vengeful 

Oh Look! An Unhelpful Old Person!

The Adults Are More Annoying Than Leo Valdez and Nico Di Angelo Put Together

They Scream For Ice Cream, I Scream For Sanity

McDonald’s And Raising The Dead- Tuesday Never Looked So Good

Unfortunately, I’m Still Not Dead Or A Dolphin (Not For Lack Of Effort)

Eggs Apparently Don’t Like Being Lost At Sea

I’m Packing Up My Crayons And Leaving

Viva La Pluto, Fuck You Guys

A Guide To Giving Up

Hopefully We Can Do This Without Dying This Time

Lady Dirt Face Fucks Us Over- Apparently Today CAN Get Worse

Apparently The Horse Is A God, And Honestly, Fuck The World- But Not You Potty Sludge

If Love Is In The Air Then We’re Wearing Gas Masks- How We Almost Started A War On Accident

If Love Is An Open Door We Should Close It- Aphrodite And Cupid Both Suck

Vegan Ice Cream Sandwiches For One

I Call Shotgun (Said The Invisible Girl  and The Literal Ghost)

I Fucked My Way Into This Mess, I’ll Fuck My Way Out Of It

Things Go Horribly Wrong (Or Horribly Right? It’s Hard To Tell At This Point)

The Fine Art Of Bullshit

We Are Being Hunted And Killed (Why Is This Normal And How Can We Stop It?)

Previously On ‘The Chaos Chronicles”

Cool, Cool, Cool, Cool. Actually It’s Not- Who Lit Katie’s Hair On Fire?!

I’d Like To Say This Is Shocking, But That Would Just Be A Lie

One Hundred And One Monsters, And Twenty Times A Therapist Was Needed

I Am Honestly Surprised That We Are Still Alive, And Apparently So Are The Gods

You Will Never Be A God

Blackmail Only Works If I Care

An Offer I Can Definitely Refuse

Hush Little Baby, Don’t You Cry, You’ll Give Away Our Location, And Then We’ll Die

Only Come Back With Back Up Or A Burger- Maybe Donuts

Doomsday Or Not, Let Me Go Back To Bed, I Haven’t Slept In A Week And I Don’t Care

Practise Doesn’t Make Perfect, Practise Makes A Forest Fire And A Flood

Sea Foam Speaks and A New Person Shatters My Dreams

The Labyrinth Apparently Doesn’t Murder The Already Dead, So Can We Just Die Already?

For A Moment I Forgot Gravity, And As It Seems So Did The Sky, Which Is Good Because I’d Hate To Die Before Breakfast

And God Told Us To Run A Marathon- What Happened To Normal Executions?

At Some Point The Universe Just Needs To Kill Us

There Is Not Enough Faith For This, 

No Words Can Explain Dan, The God Of Moths and Accidental Demon Summoning 

 The Endless and Mysterious Ocean Becomes A Bit Less So, And I Should Have Paid For Diving Lessons

If Best Plus Bitter Equal Better, Then I Am Way Better Than Everyone

Firecrackers And Actual Crackers- Where Is The Cheese

He Likes Art. Terrible Art, But Still Art So I Suppose I’ll Forgive The Sword Through My Head

Hazel Drives Worse Than Thalia Which Says A Lot Because Thalia Crashed Into A Lake- Oh Wait

What Do You Do When The World Almost Ends- And No Nico, The Answer Isn’t Go To McDonalds

This Wasn’t Supposed To Happen (Just Like Me)

Can I Rewrite My Life Story, Because If So I’m Starting With This

I Wasn’t Prepared For Parenthood When I Stopped A Kidnapping, I’m Seven

Patting My Own Back, No One Appreciates Me, Fuck This And Really The Rest Of My Life

Apparently Dying Is Not An Excuse For Being Late, So Fuck You Too 

Buying Happy Meals For The Dead Isn’t An Excuse For Being Late

Caped God? I Was Hoping You Had Said Cape Cod

Incoherent Screaming Is Our Theme Song, And I Feel A New Episode On

Who Told Apollo He Could Give Us Presents, Because MCR Is Not A Proper Wake Up Call

It’s Jesus Who Ruined Our Lives This Time, Folks

Don’t Awaken The Ancient One, She Has Anxiety

I Did Not Know That Could Kill Someone, But You Learn Something New Every Day

The Gods Themselves Want Me Dead, You’re Not Special, Todd

Doritos And Death, A How To On Properly Waking And Raising The Dead Featuring A Trip To Alaska

What Was I Thinking? I’m Pretty Certain I Wasn’t

News To No One: The Previously Dead Can’t Drive

I Really Hate Saving The World Actually

How Many Times Is That Threat Going To Work Considering It’s Not Serious? A Surprising Number

Everyone Asks Who We Are, Not How We Are, And Honestly I’m Pretty Hungry

The Gods Hate Me And I Don’t Know Why (I Do Know Why, But I Don’t Care, And Honestly They Shouldn’t Either)

 Which Circle Of Hell Are We In Now, Because I Was Not Planning On A Field Trip To Tartarus

We Master The Elements (Some Of Them- We Also Torch And Flood New England)

In Which We Almost Die Again And No One Bats An Eye

 Our Lives Would Be Incredibly Saddening If We Could Sit Down And Look At Them, But Leo Burned Our Chairs 

The Houseplants Try To Eat Us, And Katie Gets Mad

We Babysit For A God, And Then Adopt His Kids- Surprisingly He’s Fine With This

Dreams Do Come True And That Is Absolutely Not A Good Thing

There Goes My Best Bargaining Chip (Oh And Also His Head)

A Series Of Horrible Decisions- Who Decided I Was The Leader

Hylla, Please Don’t Leave Us- Oh, You Can Give Us A Box Of Cereal? Nevermind 

Sunshine And Rainbows Are Meant To Mean Happiness Not War- Iris and Apollo Destroy Things

Please Don’t Hit Me With Another Brick

We Were Happy And Then There Was A Giant Pigeon

Oh My Holy Fucking Shit That Was Not The Right Lever

In Which Swimming With Sharks Almost Leads To Death And Yet Saves Our Lives

There Is No Highway To Hell As It Turns Out, Only Backroads, And Now Nico And Thalia Are Disappointed

And Then The Sky Almost Crushed Us Because It Fell And Honestly I’m Never Trusting You Again

There Goes Normal Society, Say Bye-Bye, Miranda 

Are We Supposed To Live Through This?

The Dick Who Hands Out Toothbrushes Also Assigns Us A Death Quest And This Is Why We Don’t Celebrate Holidays

Sorry For Cursing You Out, Please Fix My Life

The Plan Checks Out- We Can Do This! (Spoiler Alert- We Can’t)

Three Hundred And Sixty Five Times We Can Say Fuck In A Hour

Please Let Me Pass Out On Your Lawn

Apparently Yelling Fuck At The Sky Is Considered ‘Disrespectful’ And I Haven’t A Fucking Clue Why

Yes Sir, That Is A Lot Of Blood, And No Sir, She Doesn’t Need That Leg

That One Time We Accidentally End Up In The Slaughter Sea, And How That Manages To End Up With A New Leader Of The Amazon Empire And Thalia Gets A Girlfriend

Yes, I’m Aware I Look Gay, Thank You Very Much, I’m Here To Be Queer

This Person Is Nico di Angelo With Less Shits To Give, And Honestly That Scares Me

A Good Idea With Bad Results And A Bad Idea With Surprising Results- The Ending Will Astound You

Never Thought I’d Literally Be Shut In The Closet Again, But Life’s Full Of Surprises

One Million Pounds Of Oranges And Sadness, Sixty Thousand Pounds Of Mangos, And A Truck Full Of Happiness- Monsters Not Welcome

Who Packed The Blueberry Muffins?

Nevertheless She Persisted, And Yet Just Like That, She Gave Up

What The Hell Is This, What The Hell Is That, Why The Hell Am I Here, What The Hell, *Moonwalks Into Hell*: A Brief Summary Of Life

All Is Fair In Being The First One In The Shower

We Accidentally Summon An Army Of Lost Souls

All Our Nightmares Come True And We Prove We’re Idiots

Life Gave ‘Lia Lemons. She Squeezed Them In My Eyes. Please No More Lemons.

Trying To Play Nice To The Gods Never Ends Well. In Other Words, Percy Is An Olive Tree

What’s Happening? I’m Digging My Own Grave, That’s What

Finger Guns, Peace Signs, and Middle Fingers To Nowhere- Home At Last

In Jason’s Defense, He Tried, But The Dragon Was More Interesting

Keeping A Family Alive Can Be Difficult, Especially With No Education and More Monsters A Day Than Cash (Twenty Dollars)

Thalia Tries To Sing Over Annabeth And Percy Arguing And All That Happens Is A Noise Complaint

At This Point, Murder Is Less Of A Passing Thought And More Of An ‘It’s Only A Matter Of Time’

Cousin Bonding Time Doesn’t Usually Include The Gods, But There Are Burgers So…

According To The Crazy Titan Lord Kronos, Asking If A Newborn Looks Like A Rock Is A Question That Will Result In The Death Of The Asker

Oh Joy, I’m Facing Scrutiny Over My Love Life From Immortal Preteens

Oh Things Couldn’t Be Worse When Your Parents Run The Universe Oh Things Couldn’t Be Worse When There’s A Vote To Kill Us (Leo stop using Jazz hands!)

We Have The Worst Family Reunion Ever 3.0

Barbed Wire Instead Of String, The Fates Hate Me More Than You Might Think

Zombies, Zombies Everywhere, Wave Your Hands Up In The Air

The World Is A Different Place When You Know What The World Is (Spoiler Alert: It’s Your Murderous Great Grandma)

The Refrigerator Seems Empty, Much Like My Soul

Ah, The Smell Of Success, It Smells Like Bullshit

My Heart Is Broken (Like Those Crackers That Bianca’s Eating)

Utter Chaos: Now Featuring Camp Half Blood And Literal Blood

Family Drama Destroys My Life

Family Drama 2.0: Family Drama Destroys California

So Then A God Says We ‘Will Save Humanity’, And Thalia Says ‘What The Fuck’

Two Middle Aged Women Start Screaming In Walmart

The Main Braincell Holder Is Asleep, God Doesn’t Exist, And Starting Forest Fires Is A Normal Way To Deal With Stress

Hell Is Just Life On Steroids

Queerly Beloved, We Are Gathered Here Togay… A.K.A. A Bet Ruins Rachel Elizabeth Dare’s Life

Normal People Would Avoid This, But The Two Most Normal People Here Used To Be Dead Or Will Die When A Stick Lights On Fire, So We Can’t Have High Hopes

We Try (And Fail, But Hey, It’s The Thought That Counts, Right?)

So THAT’S Where The Greek Fire Went. Sorry, Bus Driver.

Percy Has His Gay Awakening In The Form Of His Grandfather (Technically. He’s Also Technically His First Cousin Once Removed Or Something- Annabeth’s cousin maybe?)

You're Annoying Me To Death With Your Monologue So I Have To Kill You Now

What Can Go Wrong Will Go Wrong Doesn’t Mean You Should Set My Bed On Fire

Thalia Does Shock Therapy Meaning She Electrocutes People When They Say Things 

We Should Know By Now That Yelling Doesn't Solve Things But We Don’t, And The Gods Don’t Either

Most Of My Life Is Incredibly Traumatizing, But This Is New 

Who The Fuck Invited The Norse?!

Okay, I Thought The Norse Were Enough, Why Are The Magicians Here?

Wow. Popcorn. The Roman’s Worst Nightmare. 

So First The World Almost Ends, And Then The World Ends But It Gets Better, And Now It’s Ending Again?

Prophecies Can Fuck Off, And So Can Apollo

“Treacherous Nephew In The Tuxedo” Should Sound Funny, But It Doesn’t, And That Makes Leo Sad

 Why Is A Titan Making Dad Jokes? 

Falling Into A Dumpster Was The Highlight Of My Day, What Is Life

Grieving For The Living Is Just As Hard As Grieving For The Dead

Please Forget That I Tried To Kill You

In My Defence, An Invisible Higher Power Who Has The Ability To Strike Me Down Made Me Do It

Let Out A Boo For The Boom Man

Twenty McDonald’s Happy Meals And A Gun- Godly Gifts Are Awesome

We Enter The Maze Of Doom (This Time With Fabulous Prizes)

Two Brothers Are Not Happy As A Sister Cheers On Two More Brothers As They Duel To The Death- (Triton & Tyson & Kymopoleia & Percy & Anteus Have Sibling Bonding Time) 

The Eight Year Old With A Gun Manages To Save And Then Destroy A Life

Hello, I’m Queer, And Full Of Fear. Please Kill Me Now

Children Try To Make Plans (It Doesn’t Go So Well)

Thalia Grace Once Again Proves That Being A Demigod Really Fucking Sucks

It Don’t “Do Be Like That Sometimes” Leo, We Are In HELL

[queerofthedagger]

red like rust

[Steddie | T+ | no warnings]

It doesn’t happen in the hospital. Hell, it doesn’t happen before then, because before then, Steve has Eddie’s blood all over his hands, crimson-hot and sticky, has his fingers half inside of him to keep him together, has to—

Point is, before the hospital, there isn’t any time to have a breakdown. Steve has never been much of a crier, really, dislikes the entire act of it, but that moment when he had to forcibly drag Dustin away from Eddie’s body so that Steve could save him, damn his stupid, stubborn, hero-complex-ridden nerd-self, he’d thought this time, surely, this entire nightmare of a week, well. He thought it would warrant an A-class breakdown, honestly.

He feels like one, too, like he is nothing but breakdown-to-happen. Feels like his skin is scrubbed raw and his sanity is dangling by a thread worn so thin, it’s only held together by Dustin’s red-rimmed eyes, by Lucas’ silence when they bring in Max, by Robin’s white-knuckled hand in his. In those hours that are nothing but a long, agonizing wait in the fluorescent hospital, both Max and Eddie in surgery while Hawkins’ injured and dead won’t stop coming in around them, Steve feels like crumbling marble, like he’s becoming a ruin with no one bearing witness.

At the end of the night, the kids have been picked up by their parents no matter their protests, Nancy has found a bathroom to have her breakdown in private while Robin is having hers right against Steve’s shoulder, and Steve—

Steve swears he can feel it rip the inside of his chest to shreds, but the tears won’t come, his hands won’t shake, and he wonders how long you can go on like this before it mutilates something irreparable inside of you. --- It doesn’t happen after that either. Not when they stitch his sides back together, and not when the doctors tell them that both Eddie and Max will live, the relief of it almost bringing him to his knees.

It doesn’t happen when he sees Eddie for the first time, skin pallid and stitches angry-red on his face and throat. When Eddie’s hands shake, fingers unsteady against Steve’s wrist as he says, “I didn’t think I’d make it.”

Not when Steve hisses, more venom in his voice than in years, “You promised. You promised you wouldn’t play the fucking hero.”

His teeth rattle with the fury of it, and he’s shaking, too, everything in him itching to shatter into a hundred pieces, but he doesn’t. He can’t.

Eddie merely keeps looking at him, wide brown eyes and matted hair, and he doesn’t apologize, but then, Steve doesn’t think that he could take it. That it wouldn’t be what will make him get into his car and drive until he forgets about Hawkins and dying kids and boys with lie-soaked tongues and hearts of gold. ---

If he hoped it would get better once the shock wears off, this would be a let-down, but really, Steve’s been at this a little too long to still be disappointed in his various shortcomings; this might as well just join the parade.

Emotionally constipated, as Nancy would say. Your bastard of a father to blame, Robin would mutter, fire in her eyes whenever the topic comes up—more so, recently, since his parents came back in the wake of the supposed earthquake.

Which is an entire thing Steve doesn’t touch. Generally speaking, he’s not unhappy to see his mom, but currently, it’s one of the last things he needs.

He still cannot get the tears past his throat, cannot let go of the fear and the anger and the grief—so much godforsaken, blood-soaked grief—that draws tighter around his chest with each passing day.

He wakes from nightmares more often than not, of course, heaving and sweat-soaked and shaking. He jumps at the noises from other people sharing the house with him, flinches away from his window because they always turn on the lights of the pool, and almost bites through his tongue when, for the hundredth time, they try to convince him to move to LA with them.

He meets his father’s judgmental eyes blankly and brushes his mother’s concerns off, and he feels closer to splintering apart with each passing day, and still.

And still, nothing ever fucking gives. --- He tries not to think about it, and the vise only draws tighter. The more he thinks about it, the farther away he feels from being capable of anything but tearing something outside of him apart.

It is lucky, perhaps, that his friends are too stubborn to let him get away with his shit. Robin gives back tenfold whenever he snaps at her, and the kids have stopped taking him seriously years ago. Nancy has to do little more than raise a brow for him to get a grip.

Eddie’s the wild card, and the circularity of that makes Steve clench his hands until his nails draw blood.

The pain’s still not enough. Maybe that’s the goddamn issue, he thinks some nights, staring up at his ceiling with his heart a war drum inside his chest. Perhaps he’s so fucked up, emotionally constipated, whatever the fuck everyone’s theory is, that even Eddie jumping off Death’s scythe just so, that even Max, weeks later, still lying in the hospital, isn’t enough to get to him. --- If he’s honest, he knows it’s not that. He doesn’t know what it is, sure, but he knows that he loves them all so much that it makes his bones shake with the ruby-coloured terror of it.

It’s okay, though, it’s all worth it, even as the days march on and he feels stretched thin and raw and like it’ll take little to make him crumble for good.

It’s okay, through movie nights and drives to the arcade, through DnD sessions he only watches and volunteering with Robin. Through late nights with Eddie on the roof of the Beemer, and through calls that last until the sun climbs into the sky, dawn red-pink and mocking.

It’s all okay, good even, all the old-familiar and the new. The way he sometimes looks at Eddie and aches with want, these days, the pain and the rage almost buried beneath it. Almost, almost, almost. --- It happens, as these things are wont to do, when Steve least expects it.

It’s a tepid June day and they’re down at the quarry, just the two of them—Steve and Eddie, Eddie and Steve, the way their names are constantly mashed together these days a running joke amongst everyone.

They’re not even doing anything, just smoking and wandering around, when the sky opens up above them, the downpour so sudden and harsh that they’re soaked within seconds.

After prolonged moments of simply staring at each other in disbelief, Steve starts laughing—helpless, really, there is no way that he can’t. Eddie looks like a drowned poodle, the joint in his hand sagging, wet, and sad, and after everything, it just feels absurd.

Eddie shoves him and Steve shoves back, and then they’re running, both laughing and stumbling every other step.

“Fuck,” Steve gets out, empathetic and out of breath as he collapses against the side of the van. The rain’s already letting up again, and he looks at Eddie, smiling wide and bright-eyed, just a few steps away from him. “Fuck, I’m so glad you’re still alive.”

It’s such a stupid thing to say. But it tastes like a confession, like something sacrosanct. It tastes a lot like forgiveness, is the thing, and Eddie stills as if he understands it, too.

Around them, the rain slows down to a drizzle, and everything smells like early summer and second chances.

“Jesus, I hope you’ll still think that in a second,” Eddie mutters, and it doesn’t make sense, not an ounce, until he crosses the three feet between them, cups Steve’s face between his hands, and presses their mouths together.

It’s hot, slick with rain and a little clumsy, their noses bumping and Eddie’s rings catching in his hair. It’s also everything Steve has wanted for weeks now, and he pulls Eddie closer, fingers clenching into skin and bone where the bats had almost taken him.

Perhaps it’s that. Perhaps it’s the little noise Eddie makes, as if, despite being the one to finally take the plunge, he is still surprised that this is happening. Or, perhaps, Eddie just has that effect on Steve.

When Steve finally breaks, it is with Eddie Munson kissing him for the first time.

The tears mix hot with the remaining drizzle, and it’s so unexpected that the shock briefly outshines the grief. He staggers, a sob clawing its way out of his throat, and he wants to shove it back down, wants to keep kissing Eddie, clichéd and perfect in the summer rain.

“You’re such a bastard,” he chokes instead, and when Eddie pulls back, eyes wide, Steve sees just enough through the tears to make out the shock on his face, the fear working its way in. “Not about that, you—Jesus.”

He doesn’t get any more words out after that, throat constricting and everything shaking, shaking, shaking. He gets his point across by digging his fingers into Eddie’s hips, refusing to let go when he’s still half the reason this is even happening in the first place. By pressing his forehead to Eddie’s collarbone, and he hates crying, always has, but sheltered between Eddie’s van and Eddie’s body, it’s maybe as alright as it can get.

Eventually, Eddie seems to get the message or at least some part of it. He hums softly, and tugs and pushes at Steve until his face is in the crook of Eddie’s neck, Eddie’s arms around him, and it all just comes out in one inevitable, disastrous wave of pent-up grief.

Steve cries and cries and cries, for the kids and for himself, for Robin and Nancy and Eddie, and for the absolute abundance of shit they all had to go through. For all the futures they won’t have, and how when he closes his eyes, all he ever sees these days is red.

“Because you’re weird and I’m weird, I’m going to assume that you are weeping in awe of my kissing skills,” Eddie says, minutes or hours later when Steve can somewhat breathe again. “As such, I’m taking this as a declaration that you’re just as stupidly in love with me as I am with you.”

Steve laughs, and then he’s crying again, and Eddie presses his smile against his temple as if it is the easiest thing in the world.

So, thirteen weeks after they killed Vecna for the final time, Steve finally breaks.

That’s okay, though, because apparently, Eddie’s ready to pick up the pieces, too. Because somehow, Steve’s ready to let him.