#There’s no way I’m putting this in the main tags so I’ll just keep talking to myself lol

[leighsartworks216]

Angel, Please

Zayne x gn!Reader

Went shopping with my roommate thinking it would be really quick, and then spent like an hour in there just pushing the cart for them and losing all energy and ability to think. This is the result of that

Title is from the song "Angel, Please" by Ra Ra Riot

Warnings: sensory overload, anxiety, avoiding a mental breakdown, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 2,103

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You stare down at the shopping list in your hand, written in a mix of handwriting. Some items listed were written down by Zayne, others were added by you. A culmination of a week or so worth of groceries. It’s harder to read the words than it should be.

You have milk, cereal… You look back and forth between your cart and the list, but you can’t connect the dots. Nothing is clicking together.

Milk. Check.

Cereal. Check.

Your skin feels uncomfortably hot and itchy, but you don’t take off your sweatshirt and you don’t scratch. Your chest is tight, and you can’t seem to get a deep enough breath in. You zone out while staring at the list, urging your body to get a hold of itself.

“Excuse me,” someone scoffs as they invade your space to reach for something on the shelf behind you. They give you a look, judgemental and cruel, and walk away with a huff. Their basket bumps your cart with a clang that makes you twitch.

God, could they please turn the music down? The lights down? You just- You just need everyone to disappear. You just need to disappear.

You bite your cheek long enough to suffer through a self-checkout. You rapidly scan whatever you do have - more than just milk and cereal, but you don’t even process them anymore - and pay as quickly as possible, conscious of the eyes of other waiting customers trying to check out boring into you, judging you, urging you to just fucking move already.

The cool autumn air doesn’t soothe you enough. You throw everything into the trunk of your car. The pavement of the parking lot vibrates your hands as you push the cart to the nearest return. You rub them on your sweatshirt desperately.

You have to keep it together. You can’t break down in a parking lot at a grocery store just because all of your senses were freaking out. You are a Hunter! You fight Wanderers! You put your life on the line every single day! Why are you losing it here of all places?!

Your hands shake as you find Zayne’s number. It connects to the bluetooth in your car and you pull out of the parking space.

Are you really 100% fit to drive? No. But you need to get away from here as soon as possible. As tempting as it would be to ask to be picked up, you don’t want to be a burden.

“Hello?”

You swallow thickly. Your hands rub restlessly at the steering wheel. “H-Hey.” You clear your throat. “Hey. I’m heading home now.”

“Are you alright?” Zayne asks.

You want to put your head on the wheel and cry. You feel pathetic.

“Did something happen?” You picture his frown. The way his eyes sharpen when he tries to pick apart a little mystery. You want him with you right now. “Please answer me.”

“I-I’m fine,” you answer quickly, a knee-jerk reaction to the question. You know you’re trying to convince yourself. You know he doesn’t believe it for a second. “Just… Just stay on the phone with me until I get back. Can you…? Am I bothering you?”

He hushes you softly through the phone. “You’re not bothering me, darling. I’ll stay with you.” You sigh shakily. His voice sounds so nice right now. Your left leg bounces restlessly. “What do you want to talk about?”

You scramble to think of anything. You anxiously wait for traffic to clear enough to let you turn out of the parking lot. Your mind is taking in too much and too little information at the same time. Cars are just colored shapes, but you know where every single light source is around you. They keychains hanging from the key in the ignition rubs your leg like someone is drawing fire across your skin with a paintbrush. You try batting them away, but the jingle grates in your ears like it’s been amplified.

You pull into the flow of traffic, at last.

“Why don’t we talk about that show you enjoy so much?” he offers carefully. “The one with the girl caught in a love triangle? What was her Evol again?”

“She…” You swallow and check your speed. As badly as you want to get home, you don’t want to get pulled over either. “She can feel other people’s emotions. And, and in one episode she changes them, too.”

He hums thoughtfully. “Does she feel the attraction from the other characters? The men from the love triangle. What are their names?”

“Joseph and,” you turn on your blinker and wait at the stop light, “Damien. She can, but she feels bad because she’s not interested in either of them. So she pretends she doesn’t feel it.”

“So if she’s not interested in the prospective love interests, who does she like?”

You slowly pull up as a yellow arrow blinks, waiting for a gap in traffic to pull through. Once you’re driving steadily again, you answer. “She has a crush on her bed friend in the show, Melina. It’s really sweet, actually. But Melina has no clue, even though Therese, the main girl, keeps hinting at it, because Melina thinks Therese is interested in Damien.”

“That would be a tricky situation to be in. Who do you think she’ll end up with by the end?”

You laugh, but it’s slightly airy and strained, like someone punched it out of you. “I hope she gets with Melina, obviously!” You turn your blinker on again at a stop sign and turn after a second. This road doesn’t get too busy. “There’s actually some hints that Joseph and Damien will end up together. Everyone online thinks they’re competing for Therese’s love to try hiding their own feelings for each other.”

He doesn’t respond for a second. “Are you almost home, darling?”

You blink, and just like that, you’ve been snapped back into your body, aware once more of your surroundings. You’re in the middle of pulling into the apartment’s parking lot. You don’t even remember the drive to get there. “Y-Yeah. I’m here, actually,” you murmur.

“Okay. I’ll meet you down there. Do you need me to stay on the phone until then?”

You fiddle with the keychains, considering it. Everything doesn’t feel so itchy anymore. Your eyes hurt, but it feels more like the sting of exhaustion. Your head still thuds with a headache, but the noises that fueled it before feel more bearable now. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Call me again if you need to. I’m on the way.”

The call ends and you turn off the car, pulling the keys from the ignition and holding them in your lap. You feel surreal, like your brain hasn’t quite caught up to your body now that it’s not screaming about every little thing. The parking lot outside your window doesn’t feel real. The bike you parked next to, your bike, feels out of place.

You groan and rest your head against the steering wheel, shutting your eyes tightly. Why can’t you just feel normal already?

A finger taps on the glass. You look up and watch as Zayne opens the door for you. “Are you alright?” he asks again.

You bite your tongue to avoid answering automatically. But the real answer eludes you. You don’t think you’re gonna freak out if your sweatshirt happens to brush your neck in a weird way, but you’re not exactly sure you could just calmly ignore it if it did happen either.

You slip out of the seat and out of the car. Zayne has that concerned look on his face, like you’ve just told him you haven’t slept for a week straight, but he doesn’t say anything, just shuts the door behind you.

He opens the trunk and begins gathering messily thrown-together bags of groceries. You grab one of the lighter ones that he leaves for you, and close the trunk. The car beeps when you hit the lock button on the fob.

Once you’re inside, you sit at the kitchen island and watch as he puts away everything you got. You find the crumpled list in your pocket. You have the clarity now to see just how many items you missed, including things you needed to make dinner tonight. You want to crumple yourself up into a ball like this paper.

Zayne’s hand comes into view as he slides the paper over to where he stands. He has a notepad and a pen, and he goes down the old list to write out what you missed.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t answer until he finishes the list, clicking the pen and setting it down. Then, his full attention is on you. “Can you tell me what happened now?”

You can’t meet his eyes. It’s hard enough admitting actual health issues to him, let alone stupid shit like this. Logically, you know he’s seen this happen to you before, know he wouldn’t think it’s stupid like you do. But it’s still difficult.

“I just got overwhelmed,” you mutter. You trace shapes into the marble countertop. “Everything was so loud and bright and… And I panicked, that’s all.”

“How do you feel now?”

You sigh and cross your arms on the counter, resting your chin on them. “I’ve got a headache, and I’m tired. But I’m not? I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like I’m in a dream. Nothing feels real right now.”

He hums in understanding. “I can think of several treatment plans that may help.” You finally look at him and he shoots you a wry grin. “First, I suggest you take some pain medication for your headache, before it gets any worse. After that, you have a few options. You can go take a nap or spend some time alone to decompress. You can put on your noise-cancelling headphones and listen to music or a podcast. Or we can watch that show you told me about, and I can make you some tea.”

“That’s a lot of choices, doc.”

“It’s in the patient’s best interests to have a lot of options,” he says. “You’re not beholden to any one choice.”

You look away as you think about it. What do you want right now? What do you need? “Can I mix and match?”

He nods. “Of course you can.”

“Tea sounds nice,” you start. “I don’t want to sleep right now, but I can listen to music, I think. But I just want to be with you.” You look at him again. “Is that alright?”

He smiles, answering you without words. Instead, he moves around the kitchen to fill a kettle with water and sets it on the stove. He disappears down the hall to retrieve two pills and your headphones, setting both on the counter in front of you. He fills a glass with some water for you to take the meds. You grab the headphones and slip them on, and head over to the couch to get comfortable. They connect to your phone once you turn them on. You scroll through your playlists for a while, but the more you look, the more unappealing it sounds to you.

Zayne comes in with a steaming mug of tea, prepared how he knows you like it. You hesitantly take off your headphones. “Actually, will you read to me?”

“What would you like to hear?”

You shrug. “Anything. I just want to hear your voice right now.”

He browses the bookshelf nearby. You set your headphones down and blow on the tea to cool it down. He slips one of the books out and carries it over to the couch. You curl into his side the second he’s sitting down.

The book is one of your favorites. You’ve never seen him read it before, but he’s seen you pull it out lots of times ever since you moved in together. You smile. A comfortable warmth emanates from your heart.

The paper slides gently from one side to the next as he turns the pages. It’s not grating. It doesn’t send shocks of discomfort through your body. You cradle the mug close as you rest your head on his shoulder, letting your eyes relax as you skim the familiar words. His shirt on your cheek isn’t scratchy at all. It’s nice and soft.

He begins reading and you close your eyes. You breathe in deep the cool scent of his cologne, the fresh smell of his body wash, the slightly bitter, rich essence of the tea.

You can relax here. You can exist here. This feels real.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Skip the small talk

Request: None A/N: Again, I just want to thank everyone for supporting my stories and liking/commenting/reblogging/etc. It means the world to have such great reception to these one-shots. So please, enjoy this lil' story about the reader being a badass :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, drug use, decapitation Summary: You really weren't looking for trouble. All you wanted was something to eat, but of course things go awry. This is the Wasteland, after all.

Word Count: 2.6k+

(Gif Credit to @acecroft)

Thunder booms across the Wasteland, combining with the sound of heavy rain on metal rooftops. 

It continues in tandem with its partner Lighting, who illuminates the hazy green poison that hangs low in the air tonight. The storm has been raging for hours, and doesn’t seem to be on the verge of letting up anytime soon. 

After hours of tossing and listening to the howl of the storm, you decide to give up on sleep for the moment. The inn room you’d acquired is small but cozy, lit only by a couple candles that burn bright orange on the side table. You untangle yourself from Cooper where he lies half-naked beside you, scarred skin on display while in the security of your arms. As per usual, he crankily grumbles curses at you for causing a disturbance, but there’s no malice behind the words. His eyes blink open and lock on to you, immediately more alert at the prospect of you venturing away. 

“What’re y’doin’?” His question is thick with sleep, forced through the haze by this codependency you’ve developed on each other. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and reach a hand back to brush his arm gently. “Thunder’s keeping me up. I’m gonna go see if the saloon downstairs has anything in the way of food.”

Cooper opens his mouth to respond, but a cough cuts him off. You pluck his inhaler from the nightstand and press it into his waiting hand. The cough wasn’t unusual, but you’d been traveling for days on end in search of a bounty and knew Cooper was putting on a facade of toughness. Everyone needed rest, and The Ghoul just didn’t know when to admit it. 

“Go back to sleep.” You murmur, “I’ll only be a minute.”

He relents, but points a finger in your direction. “Fine. But they got anythin’ good, you bring me some back too, huh?”

You snatch the hand out of the air and press a kiss to his palm. “Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep.”

And since the Wasteland’s most fearsome bounty hunter would rather live through ten more atomic bombs than not have the last word, he scoffs. 

“Bossy fuckin’ woman.”

You giggle at Cooper’s tough love as you tug thick tights and a long gray jacket onto your body. Out of pure habit, you look around for a weapon. Yours are stashed on the other side of the bed, but Cooper’s shotgun is propped against the wall by the door. You opt to grab it, slinging the gun onto your shoulder and making sure the strap is secure before cracking open the door. 

The old clock hanging in the hall reads one thirty in the morning, but the sounds from the saloon downstairs continue as normal. Perhaps a bit more toned down than the daytime, but voices still mingle and dance together up the stairs. You trail after them, patting your pockets to ensure there’s enough caps to pay for a hot meal. Cooper’s half-canister of Jet and the wrinkled bounty poster sure ain’t going to pay for anything.

Eyes flicker towards you as you step onto the main floor, but they return back to their own tables soon enough. Everyone’s clad in raincoats or hats, outfitted for the weather. The town was a central point for a few settlements which popped up around it, and a major trade destination. The frequency of armed caravan guards passing through proved to be a rather decent deterrent for the unpleasant types, and most people had been nice to the point of frightening. 

At the bar, you pull out a rusty stool and settle onto it. All the other patrons but one are at tables closer to the door. The same man who’d rented the room to Cooper and yourself is down the bar chatting. 

“No surprise there. They’ve got some questionable folks runnin’ cargo these days.” The bartender is saying. He drops his hands on the bar. “But they take what they can get.”

The other man at the bar is older, just like the bartender. Dressed in dirty clothes, hood up with heavy gloves next to him, you figure he might be a lead farmer. You give a brief nod his way before focusing back on the bartender as he slides over. 

“What can I do for you, ma’am?” For someone out in the Wasteland, his face is kind. Weathered and probably suffering from radiation poisoning like the rest of you, but kind nonetheless. 

“Got anything hot to eat back there?” You ask, but think better of it. “Or anything to eat?”

“You’re in luck. One of the trade caravans left us with an old brahmin yesterday. Fresh brahmin steak if it tickles your fancy?”

You toss the caps onto the bar. “Sign me up.”

He busies himself at the cooking station for a few minutes, and eventually delivers a steaming steak in front of you. He checks on the other bar-goer and floats back over to you after a few minutes. 

“So, I have to ask.” He starts, “You came in here with that ghoul, yeah?”

You pause, mouth full and one hand instinctively freeing itself for a weapon if necessary. He must have caught onto your bristling, as he holds both hands up in a placating gesture.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothin’ bad, I was just curious. We don’t get a lot of ghouls around here, let alone people traveling with them.”

Hell, there was no need for him to tell you that. Cooper and yourself brought stares everywhere you went, discounting the cities you frequented that knew you both by reputation. You’d been called every name in the book in small communities like this, from chem-head, to ghoul-fucker and anything people could come up with.

“Yeah, we travel together. Easier to stay alive and make money when there’s two of us.” You saw off another piece of steak. 

“Bounty hunters, then?”

You shrug. “Sometimes. We do whatever needs doing most of the time. If the price is right.”

If Cooper was next to you, he’d be spewing threats of dismemberment and cutting out tongues for all the questions, but you didn’t mind. It was nice meeting someone who wasn’t immediately training crosshairs on your body. 

“Fair enough. I’m Clint, if you need anything.” The bartender wipes his hands with a rag and moves about his way, readjusting liquor bottles and carrying beers out to tables that are hollering for them. 

You finish your steak and gulp down the water Clint had set in front of you at some point. It washes away the gamey taste of mutated beef. You wait for him to return, as you were sure that fresh brahmin steak qualified as ‘anything good’ in Cooper’s eyes. 

“This seat taken?” 

You barely glance over your shoulder at the question, but give a half-hearted shrug. There was a whole bar and whoever this idiot is wants to sit next to you?

“Nuh-uh.”

The stool scrapes against the uneven wood floor, and you look over at the man that’s sat himself beside you. He’s younger than you expected, but vaguely familiar as if you’ve passed by him before. Brown hair slicked back close to his skull and shaved on the sides,  and a distinct pale discoloration on his chin. There’s a valiant attempt at beard growth but it’s patchy at best. 

You stare for just a moment before returning to the drops of water left in your dirty cup. 

“Now, I can see you’re not from around here.” His tone is boyish, almost conceited. 

Narrowly resisting an eyeroll, you set your cup back down. “Aren’t you just a right scholar?”

“I know a few things.” He waves his hand at Clint as he returns, and a beer is set in front of him moments later. “I know that you rode into town tonight, looking for a bounty.”

Lightning illuminates all of the cracks in the building. Thunder rolls. 

It takes a moment, but hits you as a smile is breaking out across the man’s face. You hadn’t passed by him before or traded. Your hand ghosts over the folded-up bounty poster in the pocket of your coat. 

“Name’s Spade, by the way.” 

Fuck. You’d never forget the name of a bounty. Especially the one set to inherit an entire Gunner outfit that had been threatening caravans for miles in every direction. 

“Spade, huh? Named after a shovel?” You prod. “No wonder you ain’t good at making friends.”

Spade calmly sips on his beer. “Neither are you, I hear. Though that might be due to your choice in company.”

Turning your head all the way towards him, you entertain the banter. Trying to avoid the subject of having a partner. You didn’t doubt if the shooting started that Cooper would come running down the stairs, but surprise is always an advantage. 

“Yeah, I’m starting to question it myself.” 

“I heard you were funny.” Spade chuckles, and withdraws a bulky device from underneath his coat. It crackles and pops like a geiger counter. “But I know you didn’t come here alone.”

You listen to the device pop, but don’t recognize it. 

“Say, how much Rad-Away do you go through? Traveling, eating, sleeping and whatever else with The Ghoul must really fuck with your health. His radiation signature is all over you.” Spade tucks the device away. 

“Don’t worry, I wear lead-lined panties.” You pat your thighs and stand. “And I don’t have time for this.”

Just as you make it to your feet, you notice the rest of the patrons do the same. They all shrug off their raincoats and reveal standard Gunner clothing, and you pause. Betraying nothing, you simply stare. Counting eleven opponents including Spade. Too busy thinking about how you grabbed Cooper’s shotgun and no extra ammo because you’re apparently a fool. The one combat knife in your boot is a viable choice, but tough to handle so many. You note Clint’s swift exit out the back door of the establishment.

“All this firepower for me?” 

Spade follows suit, and stands. He towers over you. 

“Don’t play dumb. I know they want me dead, and I’m not keen on letting that happen.”

You nod. “Understandable.”

And it’s then one of his men gets twitchy, and you’re diving behind the bar at the cocking of a gun. 

Spade hollers something at the men that sound suspiciously like “kill her”, but the thunder drowns him out. You press your back up against the bar for cover, and whip the shotgun into your grip. You feel at the knife in your boot, and brush past the Jet in your pocket. 

“Fuck it.” 

You draw out the inhalant and put it between your lips. Bracing for the adrenaline rush, you squeeze the Chems into your mouth. Not much of a frequent user, you resist the urge to cough and waste the effects. 

In just a few seconds, the world around you feels as if it’s moving in slow motion. You leap up from behind the bar, aiming and popping off the two rounds you have into the groupies that Spade brought along. One slug crashes through two of them while the other blows another’s head to pieces. 

Three down, eight to go. 

You sling the gun back over your shoulder and draw the knife. In your peripheral, you notice Spade reaching for his waistband. On pure instinct, you whip the knife in his direction. It finds his mark in his right eye, and he goes to the ground wailing. Just as the Jet begins to wear thin, you hop over the bar towards the crowd. 

“Fuck her up!”

You bend down near Spade’s writing frame, and rip the knife out of his eye socket with a wet squelch. Leaving him for last, you twirl the knife around and beckon at his cronies. 

“Well?”

You lunge towards the closest, thrusting the knife at his throat. He catches your wrist and twists it away, but you’re quick to jam your elbow upwards into his chin. It stuns him just enough that you can stab the knife into his guts and rip sideways. Entrails spill, and you reach through them to grab the pipe pistol at his hip. 

The next few go down via bullet, and you’re eventually left with only Spade alive. He’s clawed his way to his feet as you finished off his gang, and now has an automatic pistol pointed at your head. It wavers dangerously, as he’s half-blind and still spurting blood from the wounded eye socket.

You drop the pistol that’s been occupying your right hand and hold up the knife. 

“Wanna get reacquainted?” 

Spade bares his teeth at you. “And here we brought all the guns for The Ghoul.”

A shrug. “I’m sort of offended that I was underestimated.”

“I’ll make a note of it.” 

Spade pulls the trigger as soon as you duck. His intentions were given away by the fractional squint of his good eye, struggling to aim properly. You charge towards him beneath the rounds, colliding with his knees. The bullets fly upwards, blasting holes in a narrow column up the wall. It sends splinters flying near the staircase. 

“Motherfucker!”

About fucking time Cooper decided to show up.

You straddle Spade’s body and knock the pistol away. One boot keeps his wrist pinned down, and you bring the knife to his neck. 

“Next time,” You growl, tracing the blade along his Adam’s Apple, “Skip the small talk.”

Blood sprays as you apply pressure, puncturing through his carotid. You drag the knife to the side, leaning away to avoid the spray as best as possible. Until he stops twitching, you keep him pinned to the ground. 

“Well goddamn baby, next time invite me to the party.” The Ghoul, as Spade had referred to him, swaggers over to you.  His honey-soaked eyes survey the carnage. “I thought you was gettin’ something to eat, not takin’ out our bounty so soon.”

You wipe your bloody hands on Spade’s coat and huff indignantly. “And I thought your old ass would move faster when you heard gunshots.”

Cooper holds out a gloved hand to help you up. “Thunder blocked out the sound.”

“Excuses, excuses.” You grumble, allowing him to pull you up. 

The world spins, thanks to the adrenaline fading and Jet withdrawals. You stagger into Cooper, and he grips your arm. 

“You ain’t shot, are ya? Left the stimpaks upstairs.”

You shake your head and let him steer you onto a barstool. “Nah. Jet.”

Cooper whoops. “My girl! Well shouldn’t we just be celebratin’ this momentous occasion.”

“Fuck you. I’m not doing anything but going back to bed.” You press your forehead into his chest. “Fuckin’ Chems.”

The Ghoul chuckles and uses two fingers to hold and lift your chin. He kisses your lips, already dry from licking at them. You hold the lapels of his coat to keep upright and only pull away when another pang of dizziness wracks you. 

He steps away for a moment, and gets to work removing Spade’s head from his body to return for the money. 

“Damn.” You rub your temples. “How the hell do you use that shit all the time?”

“Years of practice.” Cooper hums, and finds a burlap sack behind the bar to package the head. “Sure worked good for you, huh?”

You hop from the stool, using the bar as a crutch to stay upright. “Uh huh, right up until it didn’t. Now I wanna go to bed. Desperately.”

“Fine, fine.” Cooper relents, bloody sack in hand. He follows you to the stairs, free hand ghosting over your hip. 

The Ghoul hovers behind as if you’re going to start cartwheeling back down, and herds you back into the rented room. You strip and crawl back in bed, hiding away from the cool air beneath the blanket. Cooper takes his time, but eventually blesses you with his body heat. You cozy up, letting it burn away the symptoms of Jet withdrawals.

“Did you ever get somethin’ to eat?”

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[fairlyang]

would it be too much to ask to request a pegging Wade Wilson fic 👉👈. Like, holy shit, he’s so pegging material, I love that man so much

i’ve never done this before but i’d love to give it an attempt bc he is the definition of pegging material! and w all the pegging jokes in all his movies, c’mon !!

Don’t threaten me with a good time ⚔️

w/c: 1K

pairing: wade wilson x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. pegging, strap-on usage, strap referred to as a cock, dirty talk, praise, wade being wade, doggy style, pregnancy mention

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

wade wanting to flip the script on his birthday just for the sake of wanting to try it again after a while. and to get a body shaking orgasm just from his g spot alone.

so after doing all the foreplay and prep he specifically asked for and needed, your strap was now about halfway inside, “slow down there cowgirl, god you know i’m not a regular bottom!” he complains, making you scoff.

“you just fucking told me i could move! it’s not my fault you aren’t communicating properly!!” you exclaim and he gulps.

he arches his back more and you have a clear view of him just clenching against your cock making you fight back another scoff. of fucking course he liked that.

“so are you ready or not?” you ask and he’s silent.

“c’mon baby, answer me.” you coo and slowly start to slide out making him stumble for words. “i- uh- ugh fuck-! fine yes- yes, i’m ready.”

you slide back in, still going slow for his sake but going deeper than before, “there ya go, good boy.” you tease making him moan.

“don’t start.” he warns, “you know i have mommy and daddy issues.”

“alright, for another time it is then.” you joke and pretend to write a checklist in the air.

“does feel good though- jesus fuck we’ve gotta do this more often.” he murmurs and you just grip onto his hips as you slowly start to fuck him.

“you’re the one that’s gotta tell me when you want it.” you coo as he bounces his ass back into your cock.

he groans and feels his eyes flutter, it felt so fucking tight but the pleasure was already coming in because you weren’t rushing into anything. “yeah yeah, i’ll let you know when i need a good fucking peanut.”

“or maybe i just put it on when i wanna fuck you…” you murmur earning yourself a hearty moan slip from his lips.

“fuck- mm you might need to..” he mumbles, a smile appearing on his face, “sometimes i get shy.”

you chuckle and nod, leaning down until your chest hits his back, “don’t you worry baby, i’ll take good care of you more often.” you whisper into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“don’t threaten me with a good time cupcake..” he says, turning his head to look at you.

“taking it so good too..” you whisper and lean down to kiss his cheek.

“my fuck- you can move, fuck please.” he whined and you nodded.

“okay, here let me just.” you mumble and slide all the way in, “there we go… mmm taking every inch of my cock huh baby?”

he groans and nods, “yes- oh fuck-“

you pull your hips back then slam into him earning yourself a mix of groans and moans from him. you did just that until you were certain he was fine and when there was no restraint from him and only moans, that’s when you moved your hips faster.

a whimper escaped him lips and it only made you wetter. the fabric of the strap was now somewhat bringing you pleasure too as you rocked your hips back and forth. it’d somewhat rub against your clit after each thrust which had you moaning along with him.

but the view alone was also giving you plenty of pleasure, given that you were more of a giver than a receiver, of course you were going to be turned on. his moans always had you soaking and this was no different.

your fingers dug into his skin as your thrusts became deeper and you made sure to keep the fast pace too while he hissed at the slight pain, “that feel good baby?”

he feverishly nods his head and could barely keep his position, “fuck yes- god knew what he was doing when putting the male g spot down under.”

“mmm guess he did huh?” you tease and kiss along his neck.

he only groaned and tried to keep his eyes on you, “y’know for doing this only a couple times- y-you’re fucking amazing at it.”

“aw i’m glad you think so, i try.” you murmur into his ear as your hands come up to his shoulders.

“you sure you don’t wanna stroke your cock?” you ask and he instantly shakes his head.

“just yours.” he says and you nod, “sounds good to me.”

you then start thrusting your hips into his harder, desperate to make him cum. he starts swearing uncontrollably, saying every word in the book while you start hitting his g spot with every thrust. “oh fuck me baby- shit just like that- don’t fucking stop.”

his words only encouraged you and you fucked him as hard and as deep as you could, feeling a slight ache in your legs but fighting through it as his moans became more shaky.

he feels his legs start to shake and lord was this orgasm coming in hot pursuit, “so close baby.”

“cum for me baby, let’s make this an even better birthday.” you murmur, making him whimper.

“times like these i wish i could get you pregnant.” you whine and for some reason, that did it for him.

his load spilled all over the sheets and his body collapsed, with you on top of him still as deep as you can be. you slowed down as he grinded on the bed, letting out every drop as he let out loud pants.

you kissed his ear, going down the side of his neck then to his back. he calmed his breathing as you left more soft kisses along his body then finally slipping out of him. he let out a sigh and you slipped the dildo from the strap before quickly taking off the strap itself.

you laid down on the bed next to him and he went up as you opened your arms for him to crawl in to. he did, laying his head on your bare tits but since he was exhausted he didn’t suck or play with them.

you caress his head with one hand and rub his arm with the other as his breathing finally calms down, “best. birthday. ever.”

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 2

chapter 1 | series masterlist | main asterlist | chapter 3

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.

summary: it’s been nine months since your first encounter with the miller brothers and you're getting slightly annoyed with joel's attitude towards you.

warnings: mdni. mention of suicide. a bit of smut (kissing, rubbing). swear words. both joel and reader get a tad angry. pet names (darling). reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n.

a/n: i might have said this was a one-shot ― well, i lied heh. i have come up with an entire storyline in my head so need to put it into words. this is going to be a bumpy ride because i love drama. reader's pov and joel's pov. this is not proofread and english is not my mother tongue, so please excuse any mistakes you might spot. if you would like to be tagged on the next chapters, please let me know. interactions welcome. enjoy!

w/c: ~1.9k.

The rhythm those two had was relentless. You were barely able to keep up, your legs trembling as if you were a newborn foal. Your knees almost gave way, your lungs burning with exhaustion. You managed to grab onto a low hanging branch of a nearby tree to stop yourself from falling.

“Hey― Wait up!”, you shouted at your companions.

One of the men stopped in his tracks, Tommy turning around to look at you. Joel didn’t even bother to come to a halt ― He just kept on walking as if he didn’t hear you.

Sometimes you wondered if he had lost some hearing from his right ear because of the gunshot, or if he just had a really good knack at ignoring you. Every time you talked to him, you felt like you were a nuisance to him. You had spent nine months with the Miller brothers, and you were no closer to knowing Joel than you were to speaking Klingon. You had no issues with Tommy at all, he made the effort to make you feel comfortable. The same thing could not be said of Joel.

At first you thought it was because of how you two met. You had stopped him when he was at his lowest point. You had learned from Tommy that Joel had buried his daughter that day. You understood that feeling so damn well, you almost regretted interrupting him. But you could not just stand and watch as someone decided to take their own lives. You knew how that would have affected Tommy, because you had been on the receiving end of those bad news. It was, probably, selfish of you to have taken away that decision from Joel, but the consequences would have been far more devastating.

But as time went on, you were not so sure anymore why Joel tried his hardest to avoid you. You couldn’t recall a time where you treated him badly ― quite the opposite. You were kind, even understanding when he was rude to you unnecessarily. You looked out for him ―and his brother, of course― in many ways. You were younger, but not defenseless, and had proven yourself useful many a times. So why did he behave like a prick most of the time?

“Joel, hold on”, Tommy said to his brother, tapping on his shoulder, before approaching you.

You had rested your back against the tree you had held on for dear life, trying to catch your breath. Tommy got to your side and offered you his water bottle. You took a sip, avoiding making eye contact with Joel ― not that he was looking in your direction, anyway.

“You alright there?”, Tommy asked.

“Yes, well, no”, you chuckled. “I’m pretty tired, we have been walking for the past six hours non-stop. I need a break, otherwise someone is gonna have to carry me”, you joked.

You caught Joel swiftly turning around to pierce you with those brown eyes. He quickly retreated and looked around, as if he was paying attention to his surroundings in case you were not alone. You frowned, thinking you had imagined it.

“It’s getting pretty late, we probably should set camp somewhere around here. I’ll go and have a look around, make sure it’s safe”, you saw the hesitation in Tommy’s eyes, knowing exactly what he was thinking. He didn’t like leaving Joel alone, neither did you, in all honesty. “Keep an eye on him, please”, Tommy whispered.

You nodded and saw him disappear. You sighed, preparing yourself to be rejected once more. Sometimes you wondered if you were a masochist.

Joel was on guard as soon as he saw you approach him. He looked around, even though he knew there was nowhere to go. He didn’t like you because of how you made him feel. Because you made him feel. You were too nice, always willing to help no matter what, quick with a joke to make people laugh even in the darkest of times. He admired your strength, your wits, your outspokenness, your light-heartedness. You were a beam of light in the midst of darkness ― sometimes he felt like a fly getting too close to the sun.

But he knew better than that. He was not built for any type of personal relationship. He had tried ― and failed. The only connection he had left was Tommy and he was not too sure about that one either. Since his unfruitful attempt at putting an end to his life, Tommy had been walking on eggshells around him. He didn’t need that ― being treated like a damn old book everyone was too afraid to handle.

“Do you have some water?”, you asked him.

Joel almost jumped on the spot ― you had approached him from his right-hand side, which meant he didn’t hear you getting close. So close he had to back up one step. He noticed your bottom lip twitching and understood that you had interpreted his step back as a rejection. He felt compelled to change your mind but didn’t in the end. It was better this way.

“Yeah”, Joel replied as he reached towards his back and grabbed his water bottle from the side of the backpack, offering it. “You have finished yours already?”, he didn’t intend for it to sound accusatory, but it did.

You rolled your eyes, slightly annoyed, and grabbed the bottle to drink some more. “Yes, it’s very hot today, sorry for being human”, you said, giving it back.

“I didn’t mean it that way”, he offered as an excuse, shrugging his shoulders. “I hear a river nearby, I’ll go refill yours and mine”, he extended his hand towards you.

You snatched your water bottle from your backpack and gave it to him. Then you saw him starting to walk away.

“Wait! Where are you going?”, you almost stumbled with your own feet as you followed him.

“As I said, I’m gonna refill the bottles”, he looked at you as if you were daft.

“But we can’t leave, Tommy might come back and not find us―”.

“I’m going, you are staying right here”, he said matter-of-factly.

“No, I’m coming with you”.

“What are you now? My fucking babysitter?”, he snapped at you, his whole demeanour quickly changing, his jaw clenched.

“No, you prick ― I’m tired, I don’t want to be left alone, waiting around, if something happens”, you rapidly came up with a lie. You did feel bad though, because he had seen right through you and Tommy.

“Mhmm”, he muttered. “Ah’ite”.

You walked a couple of feet behind him while he guided you both towards the sound of running water. It really only was like twenty yards away, so Tommy would have no trouble finding you. When you both reached the riverbank, Joel kneeled to dunk a different bottle he kept in his backpack.

“Why are you always so freaking mean to me? Have I done something wrong? Is it because I pushed the gun away from you?”, you babbled before you could stop yourself, bracing yourself as if you were cold, but the reality was you suddenly felt too exposed.

The silence dragged on, and you couldn’t stand it.

“Look, if that’s it, I’m sorry, but…”.

“No, it’s not that”, Joel interrupted you, still not making eye contact. He retrieved the bottle and attached a filter to it. He then put it upside down on top of your bottle and squeezed, so clean water started to fill the container. “It’s just… Nevermind”.

“It’s just what? Don’t you think I deserve an explanation of why you have treated me like shit for the past nine months?”, you pushed, starting to feel your hot-headedness overcome you. A side of you Joel had not come across yet.

He looked up at you, his brows almost touching each other, as he towered above you.

“Hold your horses right there, kid”, he said as he passed you the water bottle with a bit more force than necessary.

“Kid? How old do you think I am, Joel?”, you almost laughed.

“I don’t know, twenty? It doesn’t really matter, I―”.

“Try adding a few years to that, you dickhead”, you crossed your arms at your chest.

He looked slightly confused. Joel did think you were younger than you actually were. Not that it mattered anyway ― in fact, it didn’t change a thing.

“Look, it’s nothing to do with you. And mind your tongue”, he kneeled again to repeat the filtering process.

“So what is it then?”, you insisted while you secured the water bottle to your backpack.

Silence again. Sometimes you would love to punch some words out of him.

“Just leave it be”, he mumbled as he stood up once done with his own bottle.

You cut the distance between you and Joel to bury your index finger in the middle of his chest. Your eyes squinted in anger.

“No, I want an answer. You’re always so damn evasive, it’s driving me crazy”, you demanded.

The atmosphere suddenly shifted as you looked into his eyes. Joel was staring at you angrily ― no, hungrily? Something in the way he was holding himself back sent an exciting shudder down your spine.

“No, darlin’, you are driving me crazy”.

Everything happened too quickly ― Joel’s hand held your chin up as he lowered his mouth. Your lips were slightly parted, already inviting him in. He found no resistance from you as he licked your bottom lip before going in with the full force of his desire. You buried one hand in the hair of his neck, clenching your fingers and pulling softly.

Joel thought he was going to die right there and then. He could not think straight, not when you were so melting in his arms. His senses went haywire the moment he got hit with your scent. Lavander and cinnamon, he thought. He gripped your hip with his free hand, pushing you into him. The kiss turned wetter and hotter, his mind spiralling out of control. You tasted sweet, exactly what he had imagined.

He probably shouldn’t be doing this but couldn’t refrain himself. You had pushed his buttons and now he was too far gone. He had desired you for a while but didn’t want to complicate the situation. The world was going to shit, so there was no point in looking for a bit of hope in the middle of such madness.

He groaned into your mouth when you placed your free hand on the buckle of his belt, holding onto it as if your life depended on it. You pulled from the buckle, his bulge pressing against you. You smiled, satisfied you were not the only one severely affected by the kiss. You could feel the heat rising up in your body.

And as quickly as it started, it ended.

“Guys! Where are you?”, Tommy’s words were carried by the wind.

Joel broke off the embrace so fast you almost fell but was able to steady yourself in time.

“Joel, I―”.

“Not a word”, he cut you off, his voice deep, his eyes drilling into yours with intensity. There was a dark warning tone in his voice that you couldn't ignore. “Over here, Tommy, we’re filling up the bottles”.

A few seconds later, the younger Miller appeared in sight.

“Ah, there you guys are. I found a cave where we could spend the night”. He looked at his brother for a moment, brows wrinkling. “You okay, Joel?”.

“Mhmm, all good. Give me your bottle”.

[huskersbooze]

Part 3 to Who's In Control?

Better Than This

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3(here!) |

Summary : After the fight and spending time apart, you and Alastor finally come to realise your mutual feelings for one another, but before that, a more important matter needs to be discussed.. will Alastor finally tell the truth?

Warnings : This is where we go off track and not all of this is canon, swearing/cuss words, Angel jokes about sex(?)

Pairings : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here)

Additional Tags : Lore, world building kinda, angst, fluff, Alastor learns to talk about feelings

Ib : Better Than This by Set It Off

Word count : 1.4k

Wide awake on the couch, you stare up at the ceiling of the hotel.

“I’m closing for the night, kid. You gonna be alright?” Husk asks from the bar.

“I’ll manage. Goodnight, Husk.”

“Night, kid.” He heads towards the staircase, but just before leaving for good, he turns to face you one last time. “Take care. And don’t stay up too late.”

“Mhm. You too.”

After a while, it was quiet. Just an empty hotel with the dim hallway lights and nothing else.

You weren’t really sure why you were here. You could’ve gone back to your room after Husk left, or before, for that matter. Maybe your heart just has desires you couldn’t avoid.

“Shit, stop thinking about him! C’mon, brain! Stop it, now.” You aggressively started to blink, trying to find anything else to distract your mind, but everything seemed to be tied to his existence.

There was no denying you missed him.

“What the hell is happening.. I’m supposed to be mad and angry, not missing him..” You sigh.

Poor Alastor, though.. Maybe I should hear him out? No. Fuck, no! He lied to you! No way.

You groan and cover your eyes with the back of your hand. There was this uneasy churn in your stomach.

Am I.. am I in love with Alastor?

-----

“Alastor, you can’t keep this up forever. You need to fix this.” Rosie sighs, walking Alastor back to the Hotel. 

“What use is there, dear, Rosie?” Alastor’s voice is audibly tired-out, though his smile still etched high and proud. “I was so close.”

“You need to tell the poor thing and let her fend for herself.”

“She wouldn’t listen.”

“Alastor, please. This is no longer about your silly little crush.” Rosie stops in her tracks, catching sight of the Hotel a few streets away. “It’s about her soul.”

“Crush?” Alastor asks, oblivious.

“A crush, someone you have feelings for and want to be with.”

“Ridiculous, Rosie. I don’t do.. Feelings.” It pains him to utter such word.

“Whatever ya’ say. Just.. think about what I said, alright?”

Alastor nods, parting ways with Rosie.

Feelings..? Did he have feelings? Feelings for you?

-----

The door creeks, making you turn your head.

Who would be here this late at night? Was it a guest? No, why would a guest come in at 1am?

But then who would it be..?

You got off the couch and eyed the corner which led to the main entrance. A threat, perhaps.

You simply stayed put, saw a glimpse of a shadow, pounced and tackled whatever had made itself welcome in the hotel until the two of you tumbled onto the ground.

Prepared for the worst, you were surprised to hear.. Radio static?

“Alastor..?” You ask.

The Demon looks up at you, his neck wrapped tightly around your hand.

“Oh shit! Sorry, I thought you were an intruder.” You immediately let go and backed up, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Whatever gave you that idea, my dear?” He questions, sitting on the floor opposite of you.

“It's 1am.”

Alastor tilts his head.

“I wouldn't expect you to be out at 1am.”

“You know I don't sleep, dear.” He says, wincing at the fact he's repeated this multiple times in the past.

“Doesn’t mean you’d be out at 1am.” You mutter.

“Valid point.” He says, the tension in the air starting to grow thick.

“So.. uh.” You trail, “Why exactly are you out at 1am, exactly?”

“Ah, just simply visiting Rosie is all.”

“Oh, I see.”

Alastor looks away, his gaze glued to the hotel floors.

“And you, darling?”

“Huh?”

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Oh. I was helping Husk with the bar.” You tell him, which, ultimately, was a lie. Husk was doing all the work while you were drinking away your feelings. But you weren’t about to admit that to Alastor.

“Yes, I see. How nice.”

“Yep.” Damn, this was so awkward.

You got up from the floor, turning your back, “Well, uh.. Goodnight, then.. Alastor.”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

You start hesitantly walking towards the staircase leading to the staff rooms, feeling Alastor watching your back as you left.

“Darling.”

You stop in your tracks. Actually, no, you freeze. Though you made it evident you had no intention in facing him.

“Yes?”

“We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Alastor.”

“You don’t understand, dear. I fear I may regret keeping this from you any sooner in the future.”

“Uh huh..?”

“You’re aware of overlords, I assume?”

“Yes, but what does tha-” Before you could continue, you catch sight of Husk by the top of the stairs.

“Hey, you said you’d sleep, kid-” He tries to joke, but realises you’re not alone. “Oh. Hey, boss.”

“Husker.” He acknowledges. 

“Uh.. am I interruptin’ something?”

“Well, actually-”

“No, of course not.” Alastor cuts you off, passing by and giving you a small pat on the head.

God you missed those.

“We’ll discuss this another time, darling. You need your rest.” Alastor gives the small of your back a little push forward, urging you to go to bed. “I hope to see you tomorrow morning?”

“Y-Yeah.. Sure.” You reply, stepping forward, already missing the contact from Alastor’s hand. “Goodnight.”

“Indeed. Sleep well, my dear.”

You reach the top of the steps and Husk accompanies you back to your room, leaving Alastor still in the lobby by himself.

He returns to his broadcasting studios, a gut feeling in his chest telling him to just be honest with you about the contract. He hums a tune as he returns back.

He’ll fix this. He has to.

-----

“Good morning, Al.” You reached the table where everyone was gathered, and was somewhat pleased to find Alastor already sitting in his normal seat.

“How was sleep, my dear?”

“Good. Did you have your daily dose of venison yet?”

“Not quite. You don’t seem to have your breakfast either.”

“Gotta have my priorities.” You shrug. “Shall we discuss this somewhere else?”

“Let’s.”

You leave alongside Alastor, and the rest of the crew can only stare at each other in shock.

“Did I miss something?” Charlie is first to speak up.

Husk smiles, Sir pentious shrugs, Vaggie asks the same thing.

“Who thinks they’re fuckin’?”

“Angel!”

“Joking, jeez!”

-----

“You wanted to say something?” You take a seat on the floor next to Alastor’s chair.

“By all means, you’re welcome to sit on the chair.”

“I’m good. Your broadcasting panel scares me. You sit.”

“If you insist.” He takes a seat, ruffling your hair. “You’re familiar with overlords, correct?”

“Mhm.”

“Have you ever heard of Azrael?”

“The Legend of the Dark Arts Overlord?”

“Precisely.”

“I’ve heard of it, yes.”

“Well, dear, he’s not a legend. He was the most powerful overlord of us all.”

You weren’t sure what reaction to be giving so you nodded along, waiting for him to continue.

“7 years ago, us overlords were experimenting with power and magic. Azrael formed an experiment, inheriting part of his magic to a human.” He says, meanwhile you still had no idea what this had to do with you.

“This human would be protected, and would only die when Azrael himself gets killed, thus sending the experiment to hell, whether they deserved it or not. 7 years ago, some of us overlords had ‘matters’ to attend to and Azrael had died in the process during the last 2 years.” Alastor proceeds to drop multiple history facts on you at 9 in the morning.

“2 years ago,” He states. “The human was sent to hell with locked up dark magic they weren’t aware of. The overlords are now gambling for this soul as whoever owns the soul owns the power and magic, but on one condition.”

“One condition?”

“Yes, my dear. You see, to own the soul is one thing, but to own the magic.. The soul has to be killed.”

“That’s terrible! And complete bullshit.”

“Exactly, darling. And I own this very soul.” He sighs. “As long as I can own her soul for long enough and find a backdoor, her soul won’t be gambled any longer by the current overlords. But you see, dear, I’m on a time limit here.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Who’s soul is it?” You desperately question, completely forgetting you were supposed to be still mad at Alastor.

Alastor sighs, looking at you with compassionate eyes as a hand comes to cup your cheek.“2 years ago, this soul entered hell. 2 years ago, another soul that entered hell.. was you.”

———/ TBC. /———

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[munson-blurbs]

The ending was adorable 🥹 Everyone is going to ask for the proposal and the wedding and all that amazing stuff… but I really want to see the Disney trip and Wayne on Its a Small World 😂

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: The whole Munson clan embarks on their first trip to Disney World; as expected, it's filled with both magic and mayhem.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Also requested by @tvserie-s-world!

June 2002

The Munson chaos, as it turns out, is not limited to Hawkins. It tags along everywhere, including family vacations.

Especially family vacations.

“Babe, where’s the sunscreen?” “I wanna see Mickey!” “Ed, have you seen my hat?” “I’m hungry!”

Taking a deep breath, you toss Eddie the bottle of Coppertone, remind Harris that you actually had to get to the Magic Kingdom before seeing any of the characters, find Wayne’s ball cap in the bottom of his suitcase, and scrounge up a baggy of Cheerios for Hendrix. 

“Okay, are we ready to go?”

Your question is met with an emphatic chorus of yeses as the five of you leave the hotel room and make a beeline for the shuttle bus. 

Eddie tries to scoop Hendrix into his arms; try as he might, your two-year-old’s chubby legs just can’t carry him very far, very fast. He scrunches up his face and squirms out of Eddie’s grasp. 

“Wan’ walk!” Hendrix pouts, lower lip jutting out in sheer defiance. 

An exasperated sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “There’s gonna be a lot of walking later, buddy.” But he knows there’s no sense in arguing, and he settles for holding the boy’s hand. He’s heard tales of Disney meltdowns, but he was hoping to avoid one before the day even started. 

The Florida heat is no joke. It envelops you like a casing, and you’re grateful for the air conditioned bus. Everyone sits down, Hendrix on your lap, and you lean in to discuss the day’s plans. 

“So,” you begin, “I really want to get a picture of all of us in front of the castle. After that, we can split up. I know Harris wants to ride Space Mountain—”

“And Splash Mountain and Big Thunder,” he interjects, a seriousness in his eyes. As though you could have forgotten—all he’s talked about for weeks are those three rides. 

You nod in acknowledgment. “One thing at a time.” The reminder is gentle, a nudge to keep him focused on a single goal so he didn’t overwhelm himself. Turning back to the group, you continue the rundown. “Wayne, you’re fine taking Hendrix on a few rides by yourself?”

The older man grins. “Can’t wait to have that damn doll song stuck in my head.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie raise his hand. 

“Yes?”

“I’m actually gonna sit Space Mountain out,” he says, sheepishness seeping into his cheeks. “So I can go with Wayne and Hendrix, and then we can all meet up after.”

Harris looks at his father in bewilderment. “Dad, are you afraid?”

“N-No!” Eddie sputters, sighing when you shoot him a glare that tells him to be honest. “I mean, yeah, a little. But you and Mom should still go on it.”

“It’s just you and me, kiddo.” You smile at Harris and return to the task at hand. “And then we’ll all go on the Peter Pan ride together before we grab lunch.”

Everyone nods in agreement, though you know that actually executing the idea will be much more of a challenge. You take the win for now, climbing off of the bus with Hendrix in your arms with the rest of the family behind you.

A jovial melody surrounds you as you enter the Magic Kingdom, putting some extra pep in your step. You feel the excitement building; not just from the boys, but from the adults, too. Neither Eddie nor Wayne have been here before, and they’re just as eager to start the vacation.

Your breath hitches as you make your way down Main Street, U.S.A. and Cinderella Castle finally comes into view.

“I’ll be damned,” Wayne mutters under his breath, his voice breaking slightly. “Looks just like the movie.”

You reach out and take Eddie’s hand, squeezing it gently as the five of you take in the sight. Tears blur your vision, and you can only imagine that Eddie’s experiencing the same.

We did it. We’re at Disney World with our family.

You manage to stave off the tears long enough to ask a Cast Member to snap a photo with your disposable Kodak camera. 

“Say cheese!” The woman chirps with a smile of her own, and you all comply–even Wayne.

As soon as the shutter clicks, the usual pandemonium resumes. Harris is tugging on your hand and dragging you towards Tomorrowland. 

“Remember, Har,” you say, “we might have to wait in line for a while.” It’s a concept you thoroughly went over prior to the trip, but it never hurts to remind him.

Since you’d started out early, the queue isn’t terribly long; nothing that can’t be handled with a few rounds of I Spy. Before you know it, you’re boarding your tiny rocketship right behind Harris. The ten-year-old is practically bouncing out of his seat, and you’re more than grateful for the lap bar holding him in place.

Harris squeals with delight at each banked turn, even putting his hands in the air as he gets braver towards the end of the ride. Adrenaline buzzes through him when the ride comes to a stop, and he darts for the exit.

“Wait for me!” You call out, and he pauses until you get your very not ten-year-old body out of the cramped vehicle. It used to be a lot easier to stand up when you were his age, but you eventually catch up with Harris to head to Fantasyland.

What you find there is the last thing you would have imagined.

Eddie walks out of one of the myriad gift shops, with Hendrix in his arms and Wayne beside both of them. Your younger son has a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his head, and one in his hands–for Harris, you assume–but what’s out of the ordinary is what the men are wearing.

“Oh…my…god!” You cackle, and Harris joins you when he sees his dad and grandpa wearing matching tall Goofy hats, the floppy ears swaying against their cheeks.

Eddie grins, doing a small spin that proves more difficult when carrying a two-year-old. “How do we look?” He asks.

Stifling further laughter, you shake your head. “Incredible.” When you reach him, you give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”

“I think that says more about you than it does me, Sweetheart.”

Harris takes his souvenir from his little brother and slides the string under his chin. Both of them look absolutely precious, and you snap another picture before either can protest.

“Oh, one last thing.” Eddie reaches into a mouse-printed bag and pulls out a gold plastic tiara, covered in glitter with a photo of Belle in the center. He carefully places it atop your head and you secure it against your scalp. “There,” he murmurs, “pretty like a princess.”

A warmth settles into you that is unrelated to the humidity. You swear you could gaze into his eyes for an eternity, losing yourself in the hazel flecks that accentuated the chocolate irises—

“It’s Mickey!”

You follow where Hendrix is pointing; sure enough, the world’s most famous mouse was walking to a designated spot, flanked by an entourage of handlers. It’s the opposite direction of Peter Pan’s Flight, but you’re not about to compete with Mickey Mouse himself. 

Hendrix’s jubilation wanes as he gets closer to the character, chubby fingers digging into Eddie’s biceps. When he reaches the front of the line, he begins outright wailing, face buried in his dad’s shirt. 

Frowning, you try to peel him away. “Hendrix, it’s our turn!” You tell him, trying to rebuild the excitement with no success. “Don’t you wanna meet Mickey?”

“Too scary!” He sobs, his little body shaking with fear. 

You look at your husband, pushing away the urge to freeze up and throw a tantrum of your own. “Okay, I’ll take Hendrix; you and Wayne stay with Har—”

But Harris is faster, nudging between you and Eddie to place a hand on his brother’s back. “Hen, you don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna be right there with you.” He glances at Mickey, then back at Hendrix. “I know he’s a lot bigger than on TV, but he’s not going to hurt you.”

The crying subsides, save for a few hiccups. Hendrix sloppily wipes at his damp cheeks and holds his arms out so Harris can take him. They walk hand-in-hand, the youngest Munson glued to his big brother’s side. 

Harris waves at Mickey, imploring Hendrix to do the same. He obliges, albeit timidly, but there’s no mistaking the joyful giggle that escapes him when Mickey returns the gesture. 

Eddie laces his fingers with yours, metal rings warm from the summer sun. “Can you get a picture of this?” You nod and reluctantly let go of him, forever capturing the moment with the click of a button. 

The rest of the day is spent waiting in line, riding attractions with colorful scenery, scarfing down Mickey-shaped food items, and taking a much-needed midday nap at the hotel. The sleep recharges you enough to head back out to the park after dinner.

The sun begins to set, though the temperature barely drops a single degree. Your group finds a bench right outside Liberty Square. Wayne sits with Hendrix on his lap, Eddie next to him, and you take a seat at the end. Harris stays standing, leaning against the wooden back only to help him get his jumps out. 

“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!” A cheerful disembodied voice comes over the park’s sound system. “Our fireworks presentation, Fantasy in the Sky, is about to begin. Thank you!”

You dig in your bag and pull out some wax earplugs for Harris. Hendrix extends his hand for his own pair, always wanting to be just like his big brother. 

Fireworks light up the sky, bright pink and blue and green hues that leave wispy trails of smoke in their wake. Harris keeps his fingers pressed to his ears to block out any additional noise, but it doesn’t detract from the smile on his face. 

Perhaps the only person more enamored with the show is Wayne. The lights illuminate his awe-struck face, mouth agape, as though he’s in disbelief of the magic surrounding him. 

Eddie leans down to kiss your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Havin’ a good time, Sweetheart?” he mumbles against your skin. 

You nod, looking up and pressing your lips to his cheek. “Are you?”

He takes in the sight of his sons and his uncle, together in a place he’s only ever dreamed of visiting. And he has you by his side; more than that, you are the reason he’s here at all. 

“I’ve never been happier.”

--

[cheesybadgers]

I’ve thought a hell of a lot about Buck, Bothered and Bewildered since I first watched it and tbh I don’t think I initially clocked just how on-the-nose and blatant it is about the misdirection the episode sets up. The centring of Eddie throughout Buck’s bi realisation surely has to be significant. Not only because Eddie/Tommy was the original plan, but if Buck/Eddie isn’t the future plan, why did Eddie need to be so heavily involved in Buck’s coming out story at all??

One thing that has stuck out to me (in addition to Buck preening for Eddie’s attention at the station gym obvs, which didn’t actually involve Tommy at all…) is Buck’s apparent fears in this episode re: Christopher. If his jealousy was really all about wanting Tommy’s attention, why would Buck feel like his relationship with Christopher had been threatened?? That would only make sense in the context of Buck fearing his place in Eddie’s life was under threat.

Tommy barely knows Christopher at this point, whereas Buck has basically co-parented Christopher for years. The insecurity seems unlikely to stem from Christopher’s and Tommy’s tenuous connection but much more likely to stem from Eddie’s new friendship with Tommy. If Eddie has found a new boyfriend, that puts Buck’s place in Eddie’s and Christopher’s lives in jeopardy (in Buck’s insecure mind, anyway).

But if Buck is only just realising he’s capable of having sexual and romantic feelings for men, it’s easier, safer and less terrifying to project this discovery onto a shiny new person in his life rather than his old faithful best friend and longstanding work partner. The show also draws parallels between Eddie and Tommy…they’re shown sharing interests but they’re also later shown to have differences in how they react to and deal with Buck, so from Buck’s POV, it’s the perfect storm of crossed wires, especially if you throw in Buck being physically attracted to Tommy on top of everything re: Eddie.

The above interpretation is pretty much the only one in which that storyline works for me, because otherwise it’s a hot mess lol. It’s such a live grenade thrown into the fandom if Buddie isn’t the endgame ship and I seriously would have to question wtf the writers thought they were doing involving Eddie in Buck’s queer awakening at all. If it was just a way to toy with shippers and stoke the flames, that feels unnecessarily cruel given how Tim Minear has spoken before about enjoying writing Buck and Eddie and including scenes specifically for the Buddie fans.

Tommy was a controversial choice of characters to use as a plot device in the first place given the way he was introduced and his behaviour towards Hen and Chimney, and tbh I’m actually extremely relieved they didn’t go there with Eddie/Tommy. I just…can’t really see how that would have worked? If they do go down the queer!Eddie route, he’s going to need very gentle coaxing and compassion and Tommy wouldn’t have been the right person for that.

Having said that, I can also see why they might have chosen someone like Tommy to help Eddie realise guys like them can be gay (seen as Eddie seems surprised to learn Tommy is gay when Buck comes out to him).

BUT given all the extreme toxicity that has spawned in the fandom off the back of this storyline and Tommy’s character specifically (and the actor who plays him), it all feels a bit botched and clumsy at this point. Like there are ways to realise your sexuality isn’t what you originally thought it was without introducing love triangles. And if the above analysis is how we’re supposed to view things, it seems to have been lost on a large chunk of the fandom. Now, that’s not necessarily the writers’ fault, but for such an important moment in Buck’s character development, it feels like they could maybe have handled it with a lot more care.

I’m finally giving 9-1-1 a go and this show is proper batshit 😂 The whiplash of it switching between the most insane emergencies that happen on such a frequent basis in the same city, you wouldn’t ever want to step out of your house (but even then you’d not be safe)…and Buck trying to get laid every 5 seconds.

I thought the vampires in a certain other show were horny, but they’ve got nothing on Buck (and this is before he discovers men are also an option).

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 7

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, mentions of cartels, grief, smut

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: The chapter where we find out why Ted is on Beau's punch list aka The One With Ted... 😂

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 7: Storm Coming

May 2021

“I sold the house,” you said, your voice ripping through the quiet of the car during another starry stake-out night.

“So you’re homeless now?” Beau joked and peeled his eyes away from the front window view and glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the steering wheel, the other one in his lap.

You chuckled. “Yup, but I got a hot plate now in my motel room and one of those Italian moka pots. So, you know, some would say I’m living the dream.”

Beau snorted in amusement before he pensively rubbed his mouth with two fingers. “You didn’t have to sell the house, you know?”

You heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda did, though… I didn’t like staying in there anymore. It’s just… too many memories, I guess? ‘Sides, I’m always down here anyways. Actually considering moving here.”

Beau frowned at you, his nose scrunching. “What, to Mexico? Are you nuts? Over my dead body are you doin’ that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a say in it,” you retorted rather playfully and put a shocked palm on your chest in mock.

“Damn right, I do,” Beau scoffed his reply with a teasing grin. “Who do you think is lookin’ out for ya, huh?”

“Wait, you think you are? That’s what you believe?” You snorted a laugh, entering banter territory with him.

It was usually how you passed your time during most of these stake-outs – laughing, teasing, and the occasional talking about your problems. You’d never known Beau like this before. He was your husband’s best friend, but he had been more of an acquaintance to you. Now, after months of spending close to every day together, it felt like he was your best friend. Since Randy’s death, he’d been there for you, even if it was mostly out of guilt.

“Yeah, what d’you think?” Beau countered challengingly.

“Oh sweetie, you’re not looking after me. I’m looking after you,” you stated confidently. The smile that twitched on his lips seemed to actually agree with you. “Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.”

“Are you calling me a girl?”

You coolly shrugged your shoulders. “Either I’m calling you a girl, or I’m calling you gay. I’ll let you pick.”

Laughingly, Beau scoffed and muttered, “You wish I was gay.”

However, you still heard his mumbled reply and responded, “Actually, I wish you were a girl and that I was gay.”

Beau stared at you and leaned back against the door for a better view of you, his brow raised and the corners of his lips drawn slightly upwards in amusement. “What are we even talking about?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shake of your head.

The two of you then burst into loud laughter that filled the entire SUV. For a moment, all your sorrows and hardships seemed to be forgotten, carried away to the desert with the nightly breeze. Then, the familiar and comfortable quiet took over the car again.

“I’m moving out of the house, too,” Beau said, his eyes focusing on the barren landscape and desolate road ahead. “I’m giving it to Carla. I mean, she didn’t ask me to. God knows she can take care of herself… But I want Emily to keep living in the home she grew up in, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s really nice,” you said quietly. Your soft smile then morphed to a grin. “So you’re homeless, too, huh?”

Beau laughed, throwing his head back into the seat. “Yeah, guess I am. Maybe we should live together?” he suggested half-jokingly.

“Like roommates? Ugh, God no!” You scoffed in abhorrence. “We’re way too old for that. You’re over forty, I’m barely in my thirties–”

“You do know I know exactly how old you really are, right?” Beau teased.

You decided to ignore that jab and continued, unbothered. “It would be seriously so sad. The Widow And The Divorcee – sounds like the worst sitcom on the planet. ‘Sides, it’d be super awkward if one of us starts dating again.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” Beau relented with a soft chuckle and then glanced at you sideways. His heart gained speed in his chest. “You ever think about it? Dating? Gettin’ out there again? Been nine months.”

You twitched your shoulders, choosing not to look at him. “I don’t know. Is nine months long enough after your husband died?”

Thoughtfully, Beau licked his lips and let out a small sigh. “I don’t think there’s a timeline, or a right and wrong. I just think it’s one of those things that when you’re ready, you’re ready.”
 “Well, consider me not ready then, I guess,” you replied honestly.

“Alright,” Beau accepted, bobbing his head. “But I still think you should try again at some point, you know? You shouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life. First of all, it’d be a total waste, ‘cause, I mean, look at you. And secondly, you’re barely in your thirties, after all,” he repeated your earlier joke with a soft grin.

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks in the moonlight. As you looked at him, you could see his smirk, making you laugh. “Noted,” you replied and were thankful for his pep talk. “I mean, there’ve been offers.”

Beau quirked one eyebrow, a hard lump forming in his throat as his chest tightened. “Offers? Like plural? Who?”

“Well, just some of the guys from our team. Cody, Jordan, Ted…” you named a few. “Also a few locals. Remember those guys we played pool with a few weeks ago? Two of ‘em asked for my number.”

“Huh. That is plural…” Beau pursed his lips and couldn’t keep his brow from wrinkling, his grip on the steering wheel stiffening. “Well, you know, when you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Shouldn’t force anything. No rush, darlin’.”

Smooth, Beau thought wryly with an internal sigh.

“Right, I know,” you agreed. “I do miss sex, though. Getting kinda bored of my vibrator.”

Beau choked on his spit. “Jesus…”

“What? Am I not allowed to talk about it? I thought we were friends. You’re supposed to care about my well-being and happiness,” you argued, frowning.

“I do care. Just… Can we please not talk about that?” he begged and exhaled a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his freckled nose.

“Fine. I miss having women around…” You shrugged and muttered, “Didn’t peg you for a prude.”

“Okay, let’s just get one thing straight – I’m not a prude,” he clarified in defense, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“Alright, also noted,” you quipped, smirking to yourself. Sometimes you enjoyed making him a little uncomfortable. His blushed cheeks could be quite cute. “What about you? Have you still not talked to Carla? I’m sure you can win her back if you tried. You’re a lot better now.”

“Well, thank you for the, uh, vote of confidence, but it’s really over, I guess. We just talked about all the divorce proceedings last time. I actually think she started datin’ someone recently,” Beau told you.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Who?”

“I guess some rich tech guy. I don’t know…”

“And you’re good with that?” you questioned in disbelief.

Beau scoffed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Ha, no… But what am I gonna do? Kinda shot myself in the leg with that one. I don’t blame her for moving on. It’s been over for months now.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry. I was kinda rooting for you two,” you admitted.

“Well, thanks, but we weren’t you and Randy,” Beau said. It made your brow knit.

“What d’you mean?”

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Beau replied as if it were obvious, but you still shook your head. He sighed. “You and Randy would’ve never gotten divorced.”

“You don’t know that.” Honestly, you doubted it yourself, but you were too curious to find out what he meant by his statement.

“I do know that,” Beau insisted with certainty. “You guys had that once-in-a-lifetime kinda love. The kind that made other people jealous, you know? Your love made every other relationship pale in comparison. I always figured once the honeymoon phase was over, you’d settle and be less vomit-inducing, but that never happened. Me and Carla were never like that. Not even in the beginning,” he explained, a small, soft smile shaping his mouth. “You guys were special. True love. The stuff folk singers write cheesy songs about.”

“I guess we were,” you mused quietly, the memory of everything Randy was to you causing tears to well in your eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Beau apologized as soon as he noticed the sadness on your face. He reached his hand over to your side and squeezed your thigh gently, just above the knee.

“No, it’s alright,” you brushed him off, swallowing your heartache down. “But hey, if Carla wasn’t your once-in-a-lifetime, maybe she’s still out there. You just haven’t found her yet. I mean, that’s kinda a nice outlook, right?”

Licking his lips, he bobbed his head, his gaze focused on his hand on the steering wheel. “I doubt it.”

“Why? Never say never,” you said encouragingly.

“Well, maybe I already met her, and it’s too late now,” he replied. It sounded more like an actual fact than a hypothetical theory. You found yourself wondering.

“What, did you have like an old college flame? The one that got away?” you teased lightheartedly, but he only grew more serious.

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied vaguely, rubbing his mouth with his fingers.

“Look her up on Facebook. Maybe she’s divorced, too. You could reconnect or something,” you suggested. He nodded but didn’t seem too convinced. You then shot him a hesitant glance from your periphery. “So, now that Carla’s moving on, are you gonna start dating now, too? Jump back into the game?”

“I guess so… Why?” A part of him was curious to hear your response, while another part reminded him that his desired answer was only wishful thinking – and completely insane on top of that.

“That fiery brunette lady at the bar last night seemed really interested in you. Maybe you should hook up with her if she’s there again tomorrow night?” you proposed in earnest.

Wide-eyed, Beau blinked at you in incredulity – like you had lost your goddamn mind. “I’m sorry, what?! Hook up? Who are you right now? Are you tryin’ to set me up?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged simply, not seeing what the big problem was. “Don’t look at me like I’m trying to convince you to get a tramp stamp above your ass with a dirty needle. I’m just trying to be a good wingman… woman. Randy would’ve tried to set you up, right?”

Beau sighed frustratedly. “Yeah, he would’ve,” he admitted in a grumble and then barked, slightly more furious, “But you ain’t him. And I don’t want you to be, so stop it, alright?”

“Geez, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help,” you mumbled defensively and raised your hands in surrender, unsuccessfully hiding your upset over his reaction. He felt guilty when he saw the small pout on your face.

Beau rubbed his forehead before dragging his palm over the rest of his face. “I know. I’m sorry, too,” he said and let out a deep breath through his nose. “I just-… I guess I’m just waiting, okay?”

“Waiting for what?”

Beau squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. For you to be ready, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t very well do that now, could he?

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N…” he breathed exhaustively. That was all he managed to say. With his palm on his mouth, he rested his elbow against the car door, gazing out the window.

“Why are you so upset?” you asked, your brow woven with confusion.

“Switch subjects,” he requested.

It was a phrase the two of you used whenever you didn’t want to talk about something anymore. When someone pushed too much, or the topic got too emotional and you needed a break. The only rule was to always respect the request, so you had no choice but to let it go after that.

“The Texans game sucked last night, huh?”

That elicited a snort from him, and he looked at you with a warm smile. “Yeah, goddamn awful.”

“How many times are you gonna watch those?”

Beau’s question broke your concentration. Your gaze snapped from your laptop screen to his concerned face. You’d been rewatching the victims’ videos for four days straight now, trying to find more clues. Maybe even something that directly led to Diane.

“I keep thinking maybe I’ve missed something,” you mumbled and stared back into the computer, your teeth gnawing on the pen between your lips. “It’s 48 hours each. We have twenty-four victims. I keep watching them sped-up to get through them all, but maybe I should slow ‘em down. I mean, I’ve watched them full-length, normal speed a couple of times before, but maybe I should watch ‘em even slower and really focus, you know? There’s gotta be something there…”

Bobbing his head worriedly, Beau pursed his lips and took a scan of your desk. He counted eight empty cups of coffee and five cans of energy drinks. There were bags under your red eyes and your hands were jittering. He knew you hadn’t slept a lot. He tried to hold you in his arms, but as soon as he dozed off, you snuck out and went back to work.

Beau shut the laptop. “You’re cut off.”

“Hey!”

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“I need that woman in prison, Beau.”

“You startin’ to sound like Jenny…” Beau quipped under his breath.

“We’re running out of time. There’s only one day left before the next victim drops,” you stated and tried your best to keep your voice steady as it broke off towards the end.

“I know.” Beau clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. “And we’ll get her. I promise you. But you’re no good to any of us if you’re exhausted and losing it right now.” You nodded and rose from your chair. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “How about some dinner, huh?”

You grinned warmly. “What, like a second date?”

“Exactly like a second date,” Beau said and mirrored your grin. He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.

Your phone buzzed on the table, your brow quirking at the number. Eagerly, you picked up and wound yourself out of Beau’s embrace. “Special Agent Y/L/N… Uh-huh… Great, thank you.”

Beau pursed his lips. “We’re not going out, are we?”

“‘fraid not, Sheriff.” You shook your head and chuckled at his groan. “That was IT. They’re finally done and sending over the IP addresses.”

“Alright, guess I’m gettin’ take out,” Beau announced with a small sigh, knowing the two of you were in for a long night – and not the one he had planned.

You smiled and pecked his lips. “Thank you.”

August 2020

Beau’s heart thudded frantically in his chest as his knuckles tapped your front door in the early evening. The sky was a color spectacle full of azures, indigos, and apricots as the summer sun slowly set. His boots only stood on that same spot not even twenty-four hours ago. It still felt like a surreal nightmare he couldn’t escape, his hope to wake up soon a ceaseless prayer.

He’d stayed with you all night, held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Beau awoke on your couch with your head resting on his thigh and a strange feeling in his gut. He couldn’t help but think you were beautiful, even in a state of utter turmoil, shoving said thought swiftly down into the depths of his darkening soul.

But he’d spent all day thinking of you, plagued by guilt and torn by misplaced feelings. He’d sat through hours of interviews, going over and over the events of last night till his mind spun like a hamster wheel. He was forced to fill out forms, sign documents, and recount each unforgettable step. He’d listened to lectures, sermons, and admonitions. His captain gave him a tongue-lashing that sounded like mere white noise before he was sent home with a suspension – investigation pending.

Only he didn’t go home; he came here.

At home, his wife and daughter were waiting – for a husband, a father, an explanation. None of which he could provide. Beau wanted to wallow in his grief, his guilt, his loss in peace. He lacked the strength to be strong, play pretend, and act above it all. He wanted to be punished, sent to perdition, and held accountable for his lapse of judgment. A suspension wasn’t good enough. It barely patched the abysmal gaps in his heart.

The only suitable punishment was you. Witnessing your suffering was his personally crafted hell. You were the broken remnants of his destruction, the shattered pieces of his idiocy, the explosive fallout of his arrogance.

And you hadn’t answered a single call or text of his. His torturous worry was part of his penalty.

Consecutive rings of the doorbell and incessant knocks remained unanswered. For a moment, Beau rested his forehead on the door. He felt helpless and clueless all the same. You had friends and family to take care of you, probably better suited and closer to you than him, but somehow he felt burdened with the responsibility.

He took the spare key out of the left-side planter and barged inside. The ground floor was deserted. Last night’s uneaten dinner still sat untouched on the table. It felt like a whiplash against his bare back.

Bolting upstairs, he found the door to the main bedroom ajar. He pried it open slowly, the sight of you delivering his second lashing. This time, he felt the sting burning through to his heart.

He found you curled up in bed, on your husband’s side, in your husband’s t-shirt, with your wedding photo album clutched tightly in your arms. His breath halted for a moment; his heart did, too.

Did he do this? Was this all his fault?

“Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet and careful as he spoke. Slowly, he walked over to your side and knelt down in front of you. “Darlin’, hey… You need to get up. Eat somethin’.”

Beau was sure you hadn’t moved all day. He didn’t ask you if you were alright or how you were doing. The question seemed insulting. The answer was obvious. Your phone was lighting up on the nightstand with a million unanswered calls and messages, his own among them. Your beautiful eyes were vacant, red, and empty. You didn’t cry, however, not anymore. You were dehydrated and all out of tears at this point. You never looked at him, not even a glance.

“I want him back,” you whispered, your voice coarse from screaming, crying, cursing.

Beau nodded, licking his lips. Caringly, he caressed your head, brushing a few strands of messy hair out of your face. “I know. I hope you know I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat if I could.”

For the first time your eyes found his. Your gaze was scathing and piercing. “Tell me what happened.”

Beau let out a harrowing sigh. He had rehashed the story all day long. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again, but maybe this version was the most important one. Who deserved the truth more than you?

“Y/N, I don’t think this is such a good idea, darlin’,” Beau tried to reason, mostly for himself. He wanted to hold on a little longer, the idea of you hating him tearing him apart. He wanted to spare himself the additional guilt, the anger, the hurt.

“Tell me or leave.”

Beau closed his eyes and nodded hesitantly. “Okay, alright.” He took a deep breath and settled down on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden bedside table. “We were closing in on that biker gang. Few murders, arms trafficking, drug deals… You know the drill. I’m sure Ra-… he filled you in.”

Not that long ago, Randy had asked you for advise on the case. You gave him your contacts in the DEA and a number to a CI.

“Your DEA guy warned us. Said the gang was working closely with the cartel down in Juárez. But I had my own intel that only a few members were meeting at the Hatcher warehouse in MacGregor. It was supposed to be a small deal. But I figured it could lead to bigger things if we shook ‘em down, you know? But fuckin’ Harper told us no like usual. Refused to give us back-up. Said to pass the case on to the DEA. But Randy and I worked our asses off the last few months to get even this far. We were so close. I didn’t wanna let go… So, I suggested we go in anyways. It was supposed to be only three guys from the gang. I knew if we were smart about it, we could easily take ‘em down, you know?”

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on the bed. Shaking your head, you chuckled humorlessly and grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle from the nightstand. “‘Course you did. It’s not the first time you broke a rule or shit on authority.”

“Yeah, and I was right every single time,” Beau bit. His anger wasn’t geared at you but at himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He flew too close to the sun and got burned. But he still felt the need to defend himself, even if it was unjustified.

His gaze drifted to the dresser and the patch of wall above it, decorated with photographic evidence of yours and his partner’s life together. The wedding, dates, vacations, holidays – it was all there. Beau had watched it all, start to finish. He wished he could rewind the tape and cut off the ending, all so you could have the love of your life back. He didn’t know yet your cassette had a B-side. One that featured him.

“You got fucking lucky, is all,” you scoffed.

“Randy backed me up on it!”

“Of course he did! You’re his fucking partner! He would’ve followed you anywhere if you asked him to,” you snapped, shaking your head. You gulped down some whiskey then and locked your jaw before you met his eyes again with a glare. “And? What happened then, Beau? Was it only three guys?”

“No.” The word was almost inaudible. He shook his head with a harsh swallow. “They were meetin’ with a few cartel members there. My intel never said anything about that. When we were inside and saw what was really going on, it was already too late to get out. They made us, bullets started flyin’… They got a hold of Randy and… shot him.” A tear escaped down his cheek, his throat closing as he tried to choke out the last bit of the story. “I had to leave him there. I barely got out myself. I’m sorry, Y/N. I know this is on me.”

Your lips twitched with a bitter smile. You didn’t look at him, just rubbed your tired eyes. “Damn right it is. Get out.”

“Y/N, please–”

The storm in your eyes made him stop as you met his gaze, his useless apologies becoming stuck in his throat. “I said, get out. I ain’t asking a third time. You’re the reason my husband is dead. You’re the reason I don’t even have a body to bury. So, get the fuck out.” Like a snakebite, your words were targeted, sharp, and venomous.

You finally got out of bed and prodded towards the en-suite bathroom. The truth had been what you needed to switch the fighter inside of you back on. You knew what you wanted to do then and were determined to get it.

“Y/N–”

“Do you know what cartels do to bodies, Beau? To rivals? To law enforcement? ‘Cause I just came back from a job where we found forty-eight decapitated bodies, left to rot inside the walls of a house. Still haven’t found the heads yet. Probably never will,” you told him and stared him dead into his dark green eyes. “Ever seen that before, desperado?”

Beau bit his lips, averting his gaze. “No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “Now, leave. Please. Get the fuck outta my house. I don’t wanna see you anymore,” you spat and slammed the bathroom door shut behind you.

Beau then grabbed the whiskey bottle you’d left and walked out of your home. It was the first of many nights he started to drink himself to sleep, but at least it kept the nightmares temporarily at bay.

“Theodore.” Beau forced a bright smile onto his freckle-dusted face, although the stiff features could barely fool anyone. At least, they wouldn’t have fooled you.

“Beau, good to see you again.” Ted smiled and did a more convincing job of it as he waltzed into Lewis and Clark County’s Sheriff’s Department. It almost seemed like he meant it. “I was surprised when Y/N told me you got a gig as a sheriff here.”

Translation: I was surprised because you were such a fuck-up back in Texas.

Beau feigned a chuckle. “Yeah, I bet you were.”

“Hopefully, you’re givin’ the DAs here less headaches,” Ted jabbed under the disguise of friendly banter. He then turned to Jenny with that same shit-eating grin. “Your sheriff is a little troublemaker.”

Sweet Lord, Beau wanted to whack the bastard.

The blonde deputy coolly brushed the accusation off. She shrugged and playfully nudged Beau’s arm, sending the Texan attorney a smile. “I prefer him that way.”

“Hey, there she is!” Beau smiled with frazzled relief when you finally hurried into the station. A little while longer, and he definitely would’ve thrown a punch.

“Hey, Ted. Thanks for coming. How was your flight?” You greeted him with a warm smile and a quick hug.

“Good, good. Never been to Montana before,” Ted said and then let his eyes wander up and down your body. “Look at you. You look great!”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You subtly cleared your throat. You could physically feel Beau stiffen next to you. In your periphery, you could spy a tightly clenched jaw and a few strained muscles in his neck.

“Mind if Y/N and I borrow your office, Sheriff Arlen?” Ted asked and emphasized his title. “Considering the nature of this case, I’d like to keep it as private as possible. Don’t want anything to reach Ms. Newton’s ears.”

Your hunch had been right. Several IP addresses pointed to Diane, some to public Wi-Fi’s. You and the team still needed to connect her to the other states and find out where she’d been staying there, but you could definitely trace some posts in recent weeks to her home in Montana. It was enough for an arrest warrant, but you still needed more evidence.

Additionally, it had all come together a little too easily. It seemed like a giant trap you were walking into. Diane wanted to be caught. But why?

“Why don’t I just join you? I’m sure Y/N here doesn’t mind,” Beau suggested with a tight smile and then snaked his arm around your middle, pulling you closer. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Internally, you sighed a little at his obvious territorial pissing, but you were willing to throw him a bone. You stretched up and claimed his plump lips in a fervent kiss that Beau only all too happily reciprocated.

“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” you replied with a dirty smirk at the double entendre.

As Beau looked down at you, he mouthed ‘God, I love you.’ You grinned in response.

“Happy to give it to you,” he said with another sweet peck of your lips. A triumphant and slightly cocky grin graced his lips as he looked back at Ted.

“Oh, so you two are back together?” Ted realized, his brow rising to his hairline. He’d never seen you two together but certainly had heard the whispers down in Mexico from your old task force. He’d been the DA for those cases as well. You’d never explicitly told him about you and Beau, though, even when he had tried to pry a little on those dates you went on.

“Well, I’m a hard one to quit,” Beau quipped almost proudly, like a peacock showing off his fan of feathers.

“As are cigarettes and many other vices,” Ted shot back with the same stupidly proud grin.

Translation: You’re an ass. And a failure. She deserves so much better. I’m ‘better.’ But maybe that didn't need a translation.

Beau should’ve known it was hard to out-argue a lawyer and ground his jaw. After all, he’d been married to one for many years.

You, on the other hand, shared a wide-eyed and baffled look with Jenny that bordered on amusement. You had almost gasped in shock. You hadn’t expected such a fiery reply, sure the men would stick to their Southern manners. But, oh well, everyone’s packing in fucking Texas…

“Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll join you in a minute,” you ordered more than you earnestly proposed and shooed the two men down the hallway towards Beau’s office.

“Sure it’s such a good idea to lock those two in a room alone?” Jenny teased, her eyes lingering a little too long on Ted’s perfectly formed ass as he sauntered down the hall.

You couldn’t blame her. You had checked out Beau’s in the same breath.

“It’s only for a short time. They’re not gonna kill each other,” you laughed it off. Jenny arched a doubtful eyebrow at you. “That quickly,” you added a correction. “So, what did I miss here?” you asked and nodded towards the two men, closing the door to Beau’s office behind them. All you heard last was them talking about the recent Texans game.

Ugh, of course, they’d end up by football…

“Dick measuring contest,” Jenny supplied wryly.

“Ah, figured…”

“Well, better them than to lock Agent Y/L/N and the sheriff into the same room,” Poppernak joked with a soft chuckle as he appeared next to you and Jenny, chiming into the conversation.

You gaped at him in mock-shock. “Mo! I can’t believe you just said that,” you chided playfully.

His cheeks turned crimson red. “I’m sorry, Special Agent Y/L/N,” he apologized in a fluster.

“Mo, I told you to call me by my first name,” you reminded him with a smile. “Or I’m gonna have to start giving you silly names like Beau does.”

“Oh, I love Sheriff Arlen’s nicknames,” he quickly defended with a nervous laugh.

“Do you?” Jenny tilted her head with a questioning eyebrow.

He shrugged. “They’re clever.”

August 2020

“Old Fashioned,” you ordered with a look at the bartender, feeling Beau’s confused eyes and crinkled brow wander up to you. “Couldn’t have picked a nicer bar, huh? This place is a dump. You know that, right?”

Beau clicked his tongue and took a sip from his Ranch Water. “What are you doing here? Thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You let out a small sigh but didn’t meet his gaze. “Carla called me. Your family is worried about you.”

“I didn’t tell her where I was. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. Carla said you haven’t been home in three days. Figured you’d gone on a bender. This is the fifth cop bar I checked out. Finally got lucky,” you said and thanked the bartender as he placed his drink in front of you. You settled down on a barstool next to Beau.

“Quite the effort. Sure I’m worth it?”

Your tongue swept over your lips. “Beau, look at me.” His forest-green eyes found yours upon your soft plea. “I’m sorry I put all that shit on you. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault, okay? His death isn’t on you. I know you loved him like a brother.”

“I did.” Beau took another sip of his drink. “But it is my fault. I was reckless and arrogant. We both know it.”

“It was a set-up, alright? I talked to my DEA contact. Cody said your intel was wrong. They knew you and Randy were closing in on them. They wanted to get rid of you,” you explained.

Beau smacked his lips. “I still shoulda known better. I should’ve seen it was a trap.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. You couldn’t say you would’ve done the same thing, but you knew Beau would’ve never purposely put Randy in danger if he had even the faintest idea. “But it could’ve happened to anybody. This was bigger than you knew.”

“It wouldn’t have happened to you,” he stated quietly. You couldn’t argue with that. You were more by-the-book than he was. You would’ve never gone against a superior’s order. You would’ve respected it.

“Look, just go home. Talk to your wife. Get some help,” you said. “You missed your suspension hearing, but I spoke on your behalf. Told them it wasn’t your fault. The DEA backed me. Harper’s gonna reinstate you. Just come back as soon as you’re ready.”

Beau nodded slowly. Even if he didn’t say it, you could tell he was thankful for your efforts. “I can’t go home.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why? I’m sure Carla will understand. You need to talk to someone about this. Go to therapy – and not the alcoholic kind. Losing a partner is not something you get over quickly. You need people in your corner, including your wife.”

“You mean the wife that lets criminals out on the street?” Beau’s gaze was focused on the glass in his hands. The wrinkles on your brow deepened. “The guy that shot him… Carla’s his defense attorney. Was, at least. He was supposed to do time, but two months ago, she got him paroled.” With a dark chuckle, he emptied his glass.

“Beau…” You knew he had always struggled with Carla’s job, making you sometimes wonder about their dinner conversations at home. “It ain’t her fault more than it is yours. She’s just doing her job. You know that. You’ve been together for so long, you’d think you’re used to it by now.”

Beau scoffed a chuckle and gestured to the bartender for a refill. “I was a young cop back then. Wasn’t on the job as long. I didn’t know it would bother me so much. Still lived in that hopeful bubble, I guess.”

You smiled knowingly. “You mean the ‘I didn’t think I’d see as much shit and injustice as I do now’ bubble?”

He snickered softly. “Yep, that one. Just didn’t think it’d be this hard, you know?”

“I get it. I mean, me and Carla butt heads all the time over this stuff. But we do it in a competitive fun way and then get drunk,” you said with a light chuckle. “Guess it’s different when you’re married, though, huh?”

“Yeah, it is…” he sighed.

“Still, go home. Talk to her,” you encouraged but could see your words of wisdom fell on deaf ears. “By the way, the funeral’s on Saturday.”

He turned his gaze away from his glass and found your eyes. “You need any help with that?”

“Maybe you can give a eulogy. You knew him best. I think he would’ve really liked that,” you said with a warm smile. No matter your own feelings, you knew deep down Randy would’ve wanted you to forgive his partner.

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything you need, okay?” Beau clasped your hand that laid on the bar counter and squeezed reassuringly before dropping it again.

You smiled appreciatively and teased, “Maybe show up sober. Or at least close-to.”

Beau chuckled a little. “I promise.”

You stood up from your seat then and put some cash for your drink on the counter. “Alright, I’m heading home. You need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna finish this drink, then I’ll head out, too,” he said.

“You sure? Don’t make me come back here,” you threatened playfully.

Beau laughed softly. “I won’t. Thanks for everything, Y/N. I mean it.”

You sent him a smile and gave his shoulder a squeeze on your way out. “You’re welcome. Get home safe, okay?”

However, Beau couldn’t keep any of his promises. He made it home after three more drinks and woke up on the front lawn of his house. Carla wasn’t happy when she found him in the morning as she brought Emily to school. But Beau couldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, the tragic events flashed before him like a horror movie, witnessing Randy’s death in a never-ending loop. He kept seeing his partner get dragged away, heard the shot over and over again like a rain of bullets without a ceasefire.

The guilt was eating him alive. The guilt of getting his partner into this mess in the first place. Of leaving him behind. Of surviving and coming out alive when he didn’t deserve to.

So, Beau kept drinking to forget, even though he knew it was a futile endeavor. The memory would never fade, but at least it was blurred.

Your heavy breaths echoed through the small trailer. His mouth moved down the column of your throat, leaving a wet path of ravenous love bites in its wake.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned wantonly, his grip on your flesh punishing as he kept you pressed flush against him while he devoured you on the little dining table. Your ass sat on the wooden surface, your crossed ankles locked tightly behind his muscular back.

“God, you made me so happy today,” he growled against the shell of your ear, his rising length rubbing against your core through layers of denim.

“I can see that.” You giggled, your hands dangling in his hair. “There’s no need to hate him so much, you know?”

“Says you,” Beau quipped and unzipped your jeans, eagerly pulling them off you as his mouth sucked your clavicle purple and blue. “That slimy coyote always had it out for me.”

Beau removed your panties as well, tossing them behind his shoulder where they landed in the kitchen sink. “Whoops.” He grinned charmingly but was unstoppable, freeing his throbbing dick as he shoved his jeans and boxers barely over his ass. He didn’t bother to slip out of them all the way, too impatient to wait any longer to enter you.

“Still, I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” you said and braced yourself on his broad shoulders as one large hand on your back pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His other hand grabbed his cock, twisting his fist along the hard, long shaft a few times before he glided his cockhead through your slick folds.

“Not always.” With one harsh thrust, he pushed inside you, your tight walls fighting to make room for him and adjust to his stretch.

You gasped at the pleasurable burn that coursed through your body and ignited every sizzling nerve. He dropped his head to your shoulder, giving both of you some time to get used to each other. You could tell you were in for a wilder ride tonight. You always loved when he fucked you rough and hard. There was something raw and animalistic about the need in his hypnotizing green eyes.

Beau then claimed your lips with one fervent kiss, enough of a spark to cause a wildfire. He met your gaze, hands gingerly cupping your cheeks. “But I love that you’re mine now. And I’m sure as hell gonna make you mine tonight, darlin’.”

You crashed your lips against his, your kisses frenzied and untamed as his hips began to slam into you. His pounds into your pussy were relentless as you swallowed every inch of him. You gripped him tight, already feeling your first orgasm bloom. It accumulated like dark, violent storm clouds on the horizon, forecasting roaring thunder and heavy rainfall.

“Oh God! Fuck, baby!” You screamed as your climax tore through you like a hurricane, your cunt gushing on his cock and pulsing around him. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades and scratched down his back as you came undone.

Beau groaned into your ear, squeezing his eyes shut as he barely held on himself. But he didn’t let up and kept up his furious pace, not ready to stop yet. “Shit, keep doing that. You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he grunted against your skin, your sensitive flesh barely withstanding his ruthless pumps. “Want you to come again, darlin’.”

With his declaration, his hand slipped between your sweat-clad bodies. You came close to losing your mind as he thumbed furiously at your clit, the stars already starting to twinkle in front of your eyes. You could feel yourself get shoved to the edge once more, staring down the steep cliffs of white-hot ecstasy.

Your mind was consumed by need, his grip on your hips bruising as you exploded. You cried out raucously, your whole body quaking in his hold upon your eruption, the aftershocks so powerful they could cause cracks in your bones.

Beau spilled his seed deep inside of you, his body stuttering in rhythm with yours as your earthquake took him down with you. Hazy gazes met each other with lazy smiles as ragged breaths mingled.

“Fuck, that was good. I think that one might make it into our Top Ten.” Beau chuckled gravelly and placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“Hmm, not sure. We have a few greatest hits.” You giggled and bit down on your lower lip with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

Beau cupped your cheeks, thumbs caressing the heated and rosy skin as he lifted your gaze. “Anything.”

“Just between us, you’re the best lover I ever had,” you confessed with a wide grin. The corners of his mouth rose to match yours.

“Well, between us, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. You’re it, darlin’. You know that, right? You’re the love of my life,” Beau revealed, making you smile brighter than you ever had before.

“I’m not sure about the sex, but this moment, right here, is probably gonna make it into the Top Ten,” you said softly as a few tears stung your eyes.

“Good.” Beau smiled and pecked your forehead.

The buzzing of a phone shifted your attention. You recognized it as yours, and Beau was quick to retrieve it from your jeans pocket in the pile of clothes on the floor.

“It’s Jenny,” you told him before picking up. “Hello… What?! Uh-huh, we’ll be right there.”

Beau’s brow furrowed as he watched your features flicker through an array of emotions. “Bad news?”

“Uhm, honestly, I don’t know,” you said and swallowed some of your confusion down, gathering your thoughts. “Jenny said Diane just walked into the station and gave herself up. She is ready to confess but only wants to talk to us.”

“Us? As in us two?” Beau’s eyes narrowed. You nodded. “Well, that doesn’t sound fishy at all,” he commented wryly.

“Yup, I don’t like it.”

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds – JUNE 26

A lot of revelations and foreboding in this one... 👀 Also, I just love having Beau say the word "coyotes" for some reason 😂

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@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

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@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @autistic-gothic

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser @spnfamily-j2

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 10 Look everyone! 10 days of Junkan! What could mark this epic milestone?

Junko holding Mikan.

So in the future I end up using every 10th entry in this project as an excuse to do something with a bit more effort cause why not be extra for the occasion. But it wasn’t until No.20 that I decided that would be a thing.

Since I don’t have anything interesting to say for this pic, time to divulge more lore! For Day 8 I made note of how fast I was working on these Junkan pics during the early parts of it, even while I slowed down I still had a really good pace up till No.60, but how was I able to pull that off?

Simple, I accidentally created a feedback loop of Dopamine and Serotonin.

You see, when it comes to art a big thing that keeps me going is validation for my efforts, I like to see the reaction my art gets from people. One of my main goals in life is to create a webcomic with the goal to have it hopefully influence people's lives positively, even if it’s just cheering them up on a bad day. But because I need that validation, it’s a bit of a hard sell for my brain to draw art of something where I’m too scared to show anyone (more on this later). I had a total of 3 people that I would show this art to at first.

Two of them were supportive and thought the art was good, but weren’t really invested in the ship like me, and the other was invested but still wasn’t as deep into it as me. 

Even for the small amount of effort the lack of positive feedback would have probably killed the project early on. However again thanks to one of those people pushing me forward, I messaged VanadisValentine! Remember her? Good.

She was someone like me starved for art of these two, so I nervously showed her the art, and she liked it! Keep in mind, I’m on good terms with Val now and can comfortably say we’re friends. But when I first talked to her she was still “The Author of Fanfics that rewired my fucking brain” and my self worth was a lot lower at that point in the year. So here’s where the feedback loop comes in. I draw Junkan > I show it to Val, who I really respect and admire > She likes it and says nice things about it > I am overjoyed from the feedback > I experience a rush of adrenaline from the euphoria > Loop repeats

Even now the loop still works. It's just significantly slower now both because after a certain point in the project I’m putting way more time and effort into each piece, AND I have other responsibilities other than drawing gay people. Like Webcomic, or commission work, or OTHER gay people. I also have other people now who I show this art to that like it who I’ve even heavily sold on it, so it’s not like I’m just relying on the opinion of a single person to keep me going. All that said Val’s really been a big help and influence on this project, which I’ll likely go more into later down the line :)

Reblogs, comments, and little notes in the tags are always appreciated!~

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 28

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: mentions of violence, rape, therapy, depression

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

My new-found insomnia has me up before dawn, so I pull out my phone and start researching affordable therapists in New York City. Unsurprisingly, their idea of “affordable” doesn’t meet mine. I very briefly consider asking Jensen to help, but I dismiss the thought just as fast. I refuse to rely on him for that, this is for me and I’ll find a way to fund it myself. So, instead, I start going over my bank account, considering my income and bills and calculating what’s left over. With the extra manager paycheck from the cafe and my measly salary from Broadway, it seems just about doable. While I’m now confident that I can do it, I also know it will eat into the tiny fund I had started to amass for Summer in Texas. I sigh and decide to put my mental health first; I choose one of the cheapest, yet still good-sounding therapists and book an appointment for later in the week. The only time available is during one of my acting classes, but I accept that this has to come first. So, feeling a slight sense of accomplishment for taking this massive step, I shut off my phone and try to go back to sleep, even for just a short nap. 

I shut my eyes and curl into the blanket, but when I open them again and check the clock, only 15 minutes have passed. I accept that I won’t be getting anymore sleep. I turn my phone back on and text Jensen.

Hey, hope this doesn’t wake you…I couldn’t sleep, but I just wanted to let you know that I booked an appointment with a therapist. You’re right, I need help to get through this, and if I ever want anything between us to be possible. And I also wanted to say thanks again for tonight.And I’d appreciate your support while I continue working through it all. Not financially, I can cover it, just you know…mentally.

I reread the texts a few times. I wait a few minutes, but when I don’t get a response I relax. As much as I’d love to talk to him, I’m glad I didn’t wake him up. I get up and tidy up the couch so it’s usable again and then go into the kitchen and try to earn my keep by making everyone breakfast. As quietly as possible, I pull out everything I need to make pancakes and bacon. I serve up four plates and make coffee to go with them, I just finish off everything as Stella and Nick come down stairs. Nick gives the set up a once over before giving me the nod of approval.

“Thanks, Y/N. I don’t often get breakfast cooked for me.”

“You’re welcome. It’s really the least I can do after everything you guys have done for me, all time but especially recently. I just want you to know that I appreciate it.”

Stella pulls me in for a big hug. “You didn’t need to do anything. You’re family ‘sides, you’ve been through a lot.”

The three of us dig in and then Anna comes down and joins us a little later. Over breakfast, I tell them about the therapy appointment I booked and create a plan for Nick to pick me up from the theatre every night and drive me either home or to their place at least until the new security guard starts at the apartment. Anna understandably gets a little upset and feels guilty and while we do our best to tell her we don’t blame her at all, I can tell she doesn’t quite accept it. 

Once Nick goes up to get in another nap and Stella goes to work, Anna and I clean up the kitchen. I use the opportunity to talk to her about it all. I tell her what I’ve been going through with the fear and the nightmares and she starts to open up a little more too. She tells me about how he was sweet in the beginning, how he used to take her out on dates around the city but then she said as they realised how expensive the city was he started to change. She tells me that he would control her spending. He talked her out of taking classes because they needed her money for the rent and groceries. And he stopped taking her out or letting her go out because it cost too much, but he would still go out every other night, only to stumble back late smelling like a liquor store had exploded on him. When she questioned him about it, that’s when the physical abuse began. Then when she struggled to find a job and her money started running out, it just got worse. He blamed her whenever their cards declined at the store and when he had to start paying rent. He then told her she’d have to earn her place in his apartment by other means, and if she tried to say no, well, it just wasn’t an option. 

Once she finishes talking we’re both in tears and the dishes have been long forgotten. I hold out my arms to offer a hug, but wait for her to come to me. When she doesn’t, I nod. We finish the dishes in heavy silence and then sit on the couch together. She flicks through the channels aimlessly, likely trying to distract herself, while I attempt to work on an assignment. After a while my phone buzzes on the couch beside us. She stiffens briefly then looks down and reads the name and relaxes.

“It’s your actor friend…” she says. 

I nod. “Yeah. I can call him back later though if you need me.”

“Thanks. I’m okay though.” Then after a beat she adds, “Is he nice, like Nick?”

I nod. “Yeah. He is,” I reply without a second thought. Then I answer the call without getting up. “Hey Jens.”

“Hey, Darlin’. I’m proud of you. And of course I’ll be your support! Whatever you need, I’m here. As long as it takes.”

“Thanks.” I look over at Anna briefly and then add, “Hey Jens, can you promise me that you’re one of the good ones?”

“I could but you shouldn’t believe me. I want to do my best but you’re the one who’s been through it before. All I can promise is that if I ever make you uncomfortable, I’ll do my best to make it better. As long as you tell me your boundaries, I’ll do my best not to cross them.”

Anna looks over and I can tell she heard him in the quiet of the room. I smile at her and nod. And she quietly asks, “does he have any single friends?”

He hears her and says, “Am I on speaker?”

“Not exactly, but it is quiet here.”

“That’s okay. Well, that was Anna, right? If you can hear me now…” I put the phone on speaker for her. “I do, but you’ll find the right guy on your own when you’re ready and when the time is right. You never know when the right one will come into your life and spill a coffee on you.” 

Anna looks at me, “He spilled coffee on you?”

I shake my head, “I spilled one on him.”

She laughs and it’s beautiful. And then Jensen joins in with a sarcastic scoff, “I’m glad you girls find my pain amusing…”

Looking back at Anna, I give her a small smile. “He’s right though. When the time is right and when you’re ready you will find Mr Right.”

Jensen adds, “And even if you’re not quite ready, the right guy will understand and wait for you and support you until you are.”

I almost blurt out three little words that would potentially change everything, but I stop myself because I know he wouldn’t hear them for how I mean them, plus when I do say them, I want them to mean the same to both of us. 

Anna moves to get up, “I’ll uh, let you guys talk.”

I gently place my hand on her arm. “It’s okay, you can stay.”

“Yeah, Anna, don’t go,” Jensen pipes up. “I can’t talk long anyway, they’re gonna call me for hair and makeup soon. I just wanted to check in.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. Have fun on set, Winchester.”

“You ladies have a wonderful afternoon too. I’ll call you tonight, Darlin’”

“Alright, talk later.”

Anna sheepishly says, “Bye, Jensen. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” He hangs up and she relaxes back into the couch. 

“He’s nice.” 

“Yeah, he is.”

Anna puts some afternoon TV talk shows on and I go back to my assignment until an hour before I have to go to the theatre. Nick comes downstairs and throws together an early dinner for the three of us. While he cooks, I quickly shower and borrow another outfit off Stella, knowing she won’t mind. After we eat, Nick drives me to the theatre on his way to work. He points out exactly where he’ll be waiting to pick me up. 

I go inside and straight into the dressing room to change into my costume and start doing my hair and makeup. Just as I’m almost done the stage manager comes up behind me.

“Get changed, you’re stepping in as Sandy for the first act tonight and possibly the second if Mary doesn’t show up.”

“What?” I say in shock.

“Did I stutter?” I shake my head. “I didn’t think so.” I look over at Alyssa and she shrugs. It takes me a few minutes to compute what’s happening. Aly grabs the other costume and then drags me out of the chair. 

“Come on, this is the dream! Get changed! I’ll help with your hair and makeup after.”

Finally coming to my senses a little with Aly’s help I quickly change costumes and let her redo my hair and makeup for Sandy. As more of the cast fills in, we find out that the Mary had a last minute family emergency and that no one has seen the other understudy since the live shows started. As Aly’s helping me get ready I run over the lines, trying to stay as calm as possible. Once I’m ready we have 15 minutes to curtains. I quickly call Jensen hoping he picks up. I give it four rings before he answers.

“Hey Darl, what’s up? You okay? I’m on set, I can’t really talk right n-”

“No! I’m going on stage in 15 as the lead! I can’t do it!”

“Okay, Okay. Yes you can! Take a breath for me. You’re gonna knock this out of the park. You’ve been working hard for this. You’re gonna be an amazing, Sandy! Just focus on your lines, play off your co-star who’s been doing this longer and show off those amazing skills of yours. You’re gonna do amazing, I just wish I could be there to see it.”

“Thanks, Jens.”

“I’m so sorry, but I really have to go, but you’re gonna be so good! You got this!” He hangs up and I run back into the dressing room. I dump my phone on the bench and run up the stairs just in time for the first call. 

Jake, the actor that plays Danny takes my hand. “I wish we had more time to rehearse together, but as long as you remember the lines and follow my lead we can get through tonight.”

I nod. We switch on our mics and take our place on stage just before the curtains rise. I get one look at the massive crowd looking at just us and freeze. But Jake goes smoothly into character, makes me look at him and I do as Jensen said, let him lead me. I play off each of his lines to remember my place and lines. I’m sure everyone can see my nerves still and I feel bad that they’re not getting the best possible rendition. But I also try to let myself enjoy the experience.

Much to our dismay, Mary is still a no-show by the end of the intermission, so I go back on as Sandy. My nerves are fried by the time the curtains fall after our final bow. I’m a hair away from bursting into tears, but I pull myself together just long enough to get changed and clean off the make-up. Aly gives me a reassuring hug and assures me that I was great, but it’s hard to believe it. The only thought going through my mind is that I’m glad it’s over and I hope Mary is back from whatever the emergency was in time for tomorrow night’s show. On shaky feet, I make my way out to the parking lot to meet Nick.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala

@lmg14, @superrey, @kamisobsessed

[randyortonofficial]

title: you can't lie (when your eyes are talking for you) [ click here for ao3 version ] pairing: roman reigns/cody rhodes with past rolleigns and past candy word count: 5824 important tags: hurt/comfort, anal sex, blowjobs description: After Roman interferes in the main event, thus allowing Cody to retain his title, Cody has a lot of questions. When he arrives to his tour bus after the press conference, Roman is there to answer any questions he might have.

August 3rd, 2024

Cody’s eyes widen as Roman cages him against the wall. Big, tattooed arms pinning him at either sides and the heat of his massive body radiating against Cody’s, so much smaller in comparison.

Roman looks Cody up and down before allowing his gaze to flicker into Cody’s eyes. “I’ll meet you at your tour bus after the press conference,” he murmurs just inches away from his lips.

And just like that, he’s leaving as quick as he came.

Cody blinks a few times and watches Roman continue down the hall. He didn’t even have a chance to ask Roman what for, or try to protest, and at this point, Roman is disappearing down the other hall.

Even throughout the press conference, Cody’s mind still played the events of his match with Solo over and over. Not even events, plural, but rather one singular event in Roman returning just to save him.

That’s what Cody thought at first, but once the adrenaline of it all wore off, he knew it was just a coincidence he was saved. Roman was only trying to get one over on Solo and come after him for trying to drag his name through the mud ever since he left, but then if that was truly the case, why did Roman look at him the way he did before he turned to head to the back?

He had stared Cody down with those dark brown eyes and even winked at him. Are those the actions of a man who is solely serving his own needs?

Cody isn’t surprised to see Roman leaning against the entrance to his tour bus. Roman had told him he’d be there, after all, but he’s keeping his guard up. Ever since Cody won the Royal Rumble, he hasn’t fully trusted Roman, and that tryst they had was just that - a fun night solely to get off with no intentions of more. Roman’s hot and so is he.

It was a no brainer for them to fuck. Not anymore, however.

Cody hitches the title higher on his shoulder as he looks Roman over. “Have you been waiting long?”

Roman shakes his head. “Nah, just a few minutes.”

Cody nods and presses his lips together before looking over the area. He doesn’t want people to see them entering a tour bus together, just for the sake of him not wanting to hear rumors and the annoyance of having to disprove them. When you’re the champion, everyone is looking for a reason to take you down and Cody is being extra careful to stay vigilant.

Of course, if he really was being careful, he wouldn’t have easily walked into two Bloodline beatings in a row. Just blame it on the macho need to prove himself and show how strong he is.

“We’re good, man.” Roman nods his head to the door. “C’mon.”

“Making yourself at home already,” Cody mumbles loud enough for Roman to hear on the way to his bus.

“They’re all the same,” Roman tells him as he watches Cody open the door. “Figured you’d want things to speed along. I know you don’t wanna deal with me anymore than you have to.”

Cody frowns a little. “I wouldn’t say that,” he argues quietly. “You first, by the way.”

“Think I’m gonna stab you in the back?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Roman huffs a chuckle and nods. “Smart. Alright.”

And Roman goes first then, Cody following close behind.

“It’s not that I don’t wanna deal with you, per say,” Cody begins as he locks the door behind him. “I just don’t know what we'd talk about.”

“Oh, I bet you do.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re wondering why I did what I did out there.” Roman smiles up at Cody as he easily plops down onto the couch of his bus, a muscular arm resting across the back. “I know you haven’t stopped thinking about it since it happened.”

A grin hangs at the corner of Cody’s lips. He raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement and sets his title on the table across before sitting next to Roman, though he puts a bit of space between them. “Maybe so,” he admits. “Like, I know why you did it, but for some reason, I feel like there’s more-”

“And why do you think I did it?”

“Why else? To get back at Solo for trying to take your place as the Tribal Chief. By the way,” Cody chuckles, “he absolutely fucking sucks. Like, big time.”

Roman chuckles. “Yeah, he really does, don’t he? Like a little boy trying to act like his daddy.”

Heat rises to Cody’s cheeks as he looks out the window blinds, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of his zipped hoodie. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “That’s uh, that’s an apt comparison.”

“But what makes you so confident I did it just for that?”

“That’s it though, I’m not so confident.”

“Then why else did you think I did it?”

“Because… because…” Cody takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh as he shrugs. “I don’t know, to save me? I know it sounds silly, but-”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, I fucking stole your title at the biggest stage of them all,” Cody scoffs and rolls his eyes before looking over to Roman. “Not just that, but the 40th anniversary of the biggest stage of them all, and it was a world record title reign. It’d take me a long time to get over that.”

“That’s what makes us different, bro. Wasn’t a thing to me at all.”

Cody raises his eyebrows. “It wasn’t a thing to you at all? Why do I doubt that?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I was - I was definitely all up in my head about it, but it wasn’t you I was that upset about. You proved yourself to me, Cody, you beat me. I was - I was mad at everyone else. Mad at myself for letting it happen, like, I was so close to beating you, man. I really was, I could’ve had it and then…” Roman blinks and bites at his lip before looking down to his lap. His hand curls into a fist and he twists and turns it before dropping it into his lap. “Fucking Seth,” he says quietly. “He just - he got to me. After all of this time,” he chuckles bitterly, “and he still got to me. He banked on the fact that I would ignore you and go after him and…” Roman sticks his tongue out before slowly letting it roll across his bottom lip, and Cody’s eyes follow the action before he quickly reminds himself what the vibe of the conversation is.

This isn’t the time for that, and that door is closed. It’s not, as he would say, apropos.

The silence hangs heavy between them but surprisingly, it’s not uncomfortable. Cody can only look at Roman and try to get a read on what he’s feeling. He wonders if anyone else has seen him like this, almost vulnerable and even admitting to his failures. The Roman that everyone else gets to see doesn’t admit to mistakes. Nothing he does is wrong and he’s always the victim. There’s still shades of it here when he says he was mad at everyone else, but then he goes on to say he’s mainly mad at himself.

Cody proved himself to Roman. Those were the words that came direct out of Roman’s mouth, and he doesn’t think Roman has ever said that about anyone.

“I loved him,” Roman breathes out. He still hasn’t looked up at Cody. “I… I would have done anything for him. God, I did everything for him - everything he asked, everything he wanted, everything I did, all of it, I did it for Seth. Always him, and I wanted to do that, because I loved him. And he…” He intakes a sharp breath and closes his eyes. “He was everything to me and we did everything together, we went to bed together a-and woke up together, traveled the world, rode together, made love together, all of that, and for what?” Roman scoffs and shakes his head as he opens his eyes. “So he could sell me out and go be Hunter’s fucking lap dog? And look where that got him!” he laughs. “Cause Hunter sold out his ass too! So he sold me out for fucking nothing and…” Roman blinks and looks up to Cody, who has nothing but sympathy playing out across his face.

Cody is frowning heavily, eyebrows furrowed in concern and blue eyes twinkling with the need to take all that pain away. It’s in his nature to want to make people feel better, even his greatest enemies. He has sympathy, sometimes too much of it, and his heart aches heavily to hear this confident man like Roman Reigns absolutely lose it over someone like Seth Rollins.

And he and Seth have made up. They’re friends now, and Seth has changed, but Cody knows all too well how complicated relationships can be.

Relationships bring out the best and worst in people. You’ll do and say things you never thought you would. The absolute depths of humanity on every side of the spectrum comes out in relationships, and every single one will change a person. Nobody leaves a relationship the same way they entered.

  Roman presses his lips together and swallows heavily. His eyes dart around before he proceeds to look out the window blinds too. “Look, uh,” he clears his throat, “I let my need for revenge… take over. It felt fucking good in the moment though.” He whistles and shakes his head. “Felt like the best fucking thing in the world but after I lost the title and I was sitting all alone in my bus, I was thinking about shit, shit I didn’t even wanna think about and… I’ve been letting him run my life this whole time.” He shakes his head. “I’ve made everything about him without even knowing. And… there was a whole lot of shit I had to sit on, and I’m still sitting on it but I wouldn’t have got there without you.”

He looks back to Cody then but their eye contact isn’t long as Roman’s gaze dips to Cody’s lips. It’s only for a second, but Cody catches it, and that’s when the aura of the tour bus really begins to shift.

  “I’m not asking for vulnerability here, Roman,” Cody tells him. “I’m just asking to be pounded into your bed. You don’t need to tell me your life story, don’t need to tell me all about the intricacies of what makes you who you are, don’t even need to keep talking to me afterwards. You can fuck me and we can go back down our own paths and act like this never happened.”

  That was what Cody told Roman the last, and only, time they fucked, immediately after the Royal Rumble 2023 press conference, but maybe he should have pushed Roman into being vulnerable with him. Probably would have done Roman some good, because it seems like he has years of shit to unload. Has to be hell keeping all that inside all this time, and for what? Just to show everyone he's this confident manly man that doesn't have emotions or feelings? That no one can ever hurt him? That's an act that gets old fast, and it's not an act that's sustainable.

  Cody swallows and quirks a weird grin before chuckling and shaking his head. “You - it wasn’t because of me. I mean - yeah, m-maybe I like, help inspired it-”

“You’re the only one that’s ever been real to me,” Roman tells him. “You’ve never lied to me. Everyone else has, they’ve always sucked up to me, but you didn’t.”

Cody’s upturned lips fall into a pressed line then. “Come on,” he almost whispers, “you can’t give me that much credit-”

“I wanted to save you tonight,” Roman admits to him with firm conviction. “You’re right, I did wanna put Solo in his place, but I wanted to save the one person that hadn’t done me dirty like everyone else did. I owed you that, especially after the shit I pulled on you.”

Cody snorts. “So you admit you were doing me dirty?”

“Wanted to keep my place at the top,” Roman tells him. “I was gonna do everything it took to stay there.”

“As someone who was aligned with Randy Orton for awhile,” Cody sighs and looks up at the ceiling as the memories pour through, “I understand that. Once you’re on top, you don’t wanna lose that place. It’s intoxicating to have that power of being number one, and I understand how that power gets to people, and how that power can…” Cody bites at his lip before looking down to his own lap. “Well, I get how that power can change someone. For the best, but… for the worst,” he sighs.

Randy hadn’t betrayed him quite the same way Seth did, In actuality, it was Cody, but that was after almost 2 years of verbal abuse and physical attacks. Their relationship was explosive, but with that came a lot of passion and what they had was the most intense experience of Cody’s life.

That said, he doesn’t want that again. He and Randy came a long way since then. They’ve seen each other at their best and worst and he’s glad they’re to a point they can actually count on each other.

Randy may turn on him one day. In fact, Cody is expecting it, but in the meantime, he’s trying to enjoy the friendship as much as he can.

“I don’t hold any hard feelings against you, Roman.” Cody looks back to Roman. “I never did. For me, it’s always just been business… except for the time it wasn’t.” He winks, knowing that Roman will understand.

The smirk that spreads across Roman’s lips definitely prove that.

“Yeah, uh… that was a fun time, wasn’t it?” Roman hums and lets his dark eyes go over Cody’s outfit, his tights and ring boots with a shirt and jacket. “You know something?”

“What’s that?”

“I guess you do owe me a little.”

Cody swipes his tongue across his lip before raising his eyebrows. “Oh, is that so?”

Roman stands up with a sigh. “Yeah, why don’t we uh, discuss it in your bedroom?”

As Cody unzips his jacket, he replies with, “yeah. Why don’t we?”

And after shedding the jacket off, he’s following Roman to the back of the bus where the bedroom is.

The moment that door is closed, Roman is pushing Cody up against it, hand gripping his shoulder and other gripping his chin, to smash his lips against his.

Considering how the last time went, Cody was expecting to be pushed down onto the bed so they could go at it quickly, but he has a sneaking suspicion that this is going to go a little bit different.

Maybe a lot a bit different. Who knows, but Cody certainly wants to find out.

  Cody is instantly moaning at the strength of Roman’s mouth, and he’s clinging to Roman’s biceps for purchase. He’s always loved to be dominated, he did their first time and he does now. Roman’s fingers are digging into his chin, not painfully but definitely with applied pressure, and his tongue pilfers Cody’s mouth with a desperate yearning to explore and Cody just lets him. He lets Roman take whatever he wants because he wants to see how much of him Roman wants.

A soft breath exhales out of Roman’s nose to hit Cody’s upper lip before he lets go of his chin entirely to instead frame one side of his face. His thumb is brushing back and forth against Cody’s jawline as he tilts his head, pulling away just enough to bite at Cody’s lip and drag it out with his teeth before licking up his chin and back into his mouth, the obscenity of it causing Cody to moan out again and Roman is groaning out at the noise of approval.

The hand Roman has on Cody’s shoulder moves down over his chest, fingers curling the fabric tight between his fingers. Cody’s hands drag up those big biceps and up Roman’s neck to hold his face in his hands, and he’s sucking Roman’s lips with his before sliding his tongue along the bottom to savor his taste - so sweet, and he detects a hint of alcohol, just the faintness of beer - and after locking the taste in his mind, their lips meld once more.

Their kiss is strong and passionate, ignited by a burning flame that Cody hasn’t felt in a long, long time. To say Roman is an amazing kisser is an understatement, because he’s kissing Cody like he’s done it for years, but after hearing everything he’s spilled about Seth, it makes sense that he’s amazing. Roman is a man with a lot of passion, and he’s probably been holding that in for a long time. That passion was transferred to the protection of his belt but now he no longer has that and with nowhere else for the passion to go, it makes sense for it to spill out right now.

Thank fuck Cody is the willing recipient.

Their lips are slow to drag apart, neither of them wanting to end it but knowing they have to or it’s all they’re gonna do. They’re panting hotly against each other’s lips as they lid their eyes open to drink upon each other’s hungry gaze, the unspoken agreement shared between them that this is only the start to, what most likely, be a long night.

“You know what I didn’t get to do last time?” Cody murmurs against Roman’s lips. “That I really wanted to do?”

“What’s that?”

“I really wanted to get my mouth on you,” he admits in a low tone. “And just choke on you.”

“Shit,” Roman groans and brings his hand up to gently push down at Cody’s head. “Say less and get down there then.”

And Cody does, sinking onto his knees before the bigger man but not without stealing one more kiss. His hands run down Roman’s body along the way to his belt, which he’s quickly undoing and slipping through the loops to drop to the ground. The button is undone next, followed by the zipper, and then he’s grabbing his pants, along with his briefs, to pull them down enough for that thick cock to present itself right in front of his face.

Natural instincts from long ago take over as Cody whines before leaning forward to immediately lick all the way up Roman’s length to take him in all the way. He’s not wasting anytime sucking him off, eagerly moving down and up, his fingers gripping at the open flaps of Roman’s pants as he happily sucks away.

“Damn, baby,” Roman chuckles through a moan as he rests a hand on the back of Cody’s head. “You really fucking love this shit, huh?”

The moan Cody gives around his length is all the answer Roman needs, and the extra vibration causes him to moan out in pleasure.

“Fuck, your mouth is amazing,” he sighs and lulls his head back just to savor in the moment. A few moments later, he’s humming and dropping his head forward, eyes lidding open to watch Cody work his magic. “You look like you were made for this. So fucking pretty, you’re sucking me so damn good, baby…”

His pretty pink lips are stretched wide around him, cheeks hollowed out and eyelashes looking so heavy until Cody is opening his eyes to stare right up at Roman, with the brightest blue eyes he’s ever seen. It’s mesmerizing, honestly, such an innocent looking color on such a filthy man like him, but filthy in the best way, filthy in a way that Roman is currently benefiting from.

Cody pulls off to suckle at the head, letting his tongue trail all over it inside his mouth and dip into the slit before letting go to trail a stripe down Roman’s shaft. It licks all the way down and then he’s breathing him in deeply to inhale his manly musk, let it fill his senses before his lips rub back up. As he does so, he lets the spit build back up in his mouth and after mouthing his way back to the tip, his tongue rolls out for the spot to drop off onto Roman’s length.

“God, that’s so hot,” Roman breathes out.

Cody’s gaze flickers up to Roman with a moan before cutting the tether of spit with his tongue, and Roman is groaning as he harshly tugs Cody back by his hair.

“You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that,” he warns.

“Wouldn’t be so bad,” Cody tells him. “You don’t wanna make a mess over my pretty face? You don’t wanna cover me in you?”

Roman takes a deep breath and looks up to the ceiling in thought to mull over the image. Biting hard at his lip, he looks down to Cody and says, “don’t tempt me. Get your ass on that bed.”

With a grin, Cody tells him, “can do.”

  It’s not without undressing first, though he goes slow so Roman has time to appreciate his body. He can feel Roman’s gaze burning with each inch of him that’s shown and even as he climbs onto the bed. He’s settling himself on his elbows and knees before looking back at Roman over his shoulder. “Like last time?”

Roman’s tongue pokes around the inside of his cheek as he continues to look Cody over. While the back of him is certainly nice, it’s something they’ve done before. He shakes his head and says, “nah. Roll onto your back.”

After Cody rolls onto his back, he sees Roman removing his boots, pants, and briefs, though the shirt stays on. He wants Roman to take it off, after all, Cody’s already seen him shirtless in the ring, but there has to be a reason Roman is keeping that on specifically, so Cody doesn’t say a word.

The bed dips with Roman’s weight as he stalks up towards Cody. Strong hands force Cody’s legs apart so Roman can get in between and Cody has to bite back the moan that wants to push past his lips at the sight of his massive body between his legs.

Like, yeah, he’s so much bigger now, but men like Roman always make him feel like that starry eyed twink all over again.

Roman’s voice breaks him out of his trance when he asks, “you keep lube anywhere in here?”

“Oh, um…” Cody looks over to his nightstand. “Should be a bottle in there.” As Roman reaches to grab it from within, Cody chuckles. “I didn' remember this last time.”

“Last time was different,” Roman tells him as he sets the lube down on top.

“How so?”

Roman rolls his lips back between his teeth while he settles himself on his stomach between Cody’s legs. “Just is.”

Cody would argue, but Roman’s skillful fucking tongue is lapping at his hole like a delicacy and it tears any thought out of Cody’s head as he whines out loud and throws his head back.

Roman’s wrapping his arms around Cody’s thighs, hands clutching tight at them as he opens Cody up - and properly this time, unlike the last. He’s really taking his time, sticking his tongue inside and moving it around all over where he can. He’s sucking at his hole, tracing the rim with his tongue and running it up the seam of his balls before spitting on his hole and sticking his tongue back inside.

Cody is trying hard to lay flat but it’s not working all that well. Nor is he keeping his noises in check, because he’s whining and keening and thrashing his body all over the place to the point Roman has to tighten his grip (because somehow, it could get tighter) to keep him firmly on the bed and fuck, is that so hot. Fuck, Roman is so strong and Cody doesn’t wanna fight back, doesn’t wanna overpower him, he wants to just lay here and let Roman do whatever he wants.

And now that he’s the undisputed champion, he kind of can.

Roman is adding a finger, after a point. And another, and another after that, and each one pulls a louder moan out of Cody each time. He’s still tonguing Cody open with all those fingers too, and he didn’t fucking do this before. He just ate Cody out then shoved himself inside and that was it, but this, this is…

Fuck, is he getting Roman at his best right now? And he thought their last tryst was great, but this is already better and Roman hasn’t even got his dick in him yet.

Oh shit, Roman hasn’t even got his dick in him yet, how the fuck is Cody going to react when that happens?

When Cody has been thoroughly opened up and broken down, Roman is sitting up between his knees with a rather triumphant grin. He knows he did well, and he knows he’s going to keep doing well too. Kind of reminds Cody of someone else in his life, but that door is closed forever. It was an agreement he and Randy made a few years ago, an agreement for the best.

Roman pops the cap of the lube to drizzle it along his length. He’s stroking his cock to fully apply it before easily pulling Cody forward by his thighs, lubed up cock bobbing down against Cody’s. “You think you can take me or-”

“Yes, fuck yes, I can take you, fucking give it to me already,” Cody whines out and doesn’t even care for how it sounds.

“You gonna keep up that begging for me when I get inside you, baby?”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck you want when you get inside me, so please.”

A hum rises from low in Roman’s throat as he uses an arm to push both of Cody’s legs back from behind his knees. “I got you, sweetheart. Stay real still and be a good boy for me.”

Good boy is all it takes to settle Cody once and for all. He relaxes totally and stares at Roman with a renewed softness in his eyes before his gaze dips to watch Roman line himself up. The head of Roman’s cock smacks against Cody’s hole a few times before he pushes inside.

And it’s slow when he pushes in, but he’s determined to give Cody every single inch and he feels it.

Cody’s eyes are fluttering shut in pure bliss as a long, drawn out moan slips past his lips to enter the warmly lit room. His head is rolling over to the side, hand coming up to grab tightly at the pillow and other hand dragging through the sheets to keep himself grounded with how many of his senses are lighting up.

It’s so much in the best way and he hasn’t had that kind of overwhelming sensation in awhile. Fuck, probably not since the last time they fucked.

“Theeere we go,” Roman shushes as he bottoms out inside. “Just like that, baby, doing so good. Look so good like this bent in half underneath me, and I’m gonna give it to you so good too, you just wait.”

“Don’t wanna,” Cody whimpers and opens his eyes just enough to send Roman a pleading look. “Please, Roman, give it to me, I can take it, I swear I can-”

“Oh, I know you can,” Roman chuckles and throws Cody’s legs over his shoulders so he can lean in real close. “Just relax and lemme take care of you tonight, alright?”

Cody’s eyes fall back shut as their lips meet again, much softer than the last. While their lips move against each other, Roman begins with slow thrust, but each one packs a punch. He pulls out slow, just to slam back in, and Cody is moaning into his mouth each time it happens. Cody feels it so deep, literally, as the inches drag along his tight, inner walls. Roman is really taking his time with him and ensuring Cody feels good, unlike the last time - fucking for the sake of it, to size each other up in a way that would benefit the both of them.

Their tongues swirl around each other before their lips meet again, still in that soft, but passionate manner. Cody’s hands come up to thread through Roman’s luxurious black locks, and Roman has his hands planted firmly on either side of Cody. His thrusts are steadily beginning to speed up and their kissing is becoming quicker, hell, sometimes they stop kissing just to chase each other’s lips, get each other desperate before allowing them to meet again, up until the point where Roman’s thrusts get so fast that Cody can’t even concentrate on kissing.

“Oh fuck me, you feel so good,” Cody moans out. “Fuck, give it all to me.”

“Yeah, you want more?” Roman asks with a grin as he tilts his head to kiss Cody’s ankle. “You gonna be a good boy and take everything I give you?”

“Even if it hurts, fuck yes, Roman, yes, I’ll be a good boy and take everything you give me.”

“Hey, you asked for it.”

Yup, Cody certainly did, and he is so glad for it when Roman does, indeed, give him exactly what he asked for.

It’s hot, fast, and intense. Nothing better than to get fucked stupid and not think of a damn thing beyond letting himself get wrecked. Cody’s had so much responsibility to uphold lately with being the top guy that it feels good to let someone else take the reins. He’s always enjoyed it even before he had the responsibilities, but now it’s like a need for someone else to take charge, a burning need that’s been increasingly harder to satiate.

  Roman is grunting, breathing heavy as he pounds into Cody with every iota of strength he has. The bed is shaking, rocking against the wall and Cody’s mouth hangs open as he cries out with each thrust, moans becoming higher pitched, body writhing, and he’s practically sobbing with how good it feels, but Roman can barely contain himself either with the slew of curses he’s spouting off.

“Fucking - fuck, god damn, Cody, so fucking tight around me. You know I couldn’t stop thinking about this last time we did it? I hated it, hated thinking about it because I didn’t want to, I didn’t wanna like it, but you were good, you were amazing and you better keep fucking coming back for this dick, you understand?”

“Yes, Roman, I-I’ll keep coming back, keep letting you fuck me and use me, I promise,” he gasps. “Whatever you want, j-just keep fucking me good like this, keep making me feel good, please-”

Cody’s cut off when Roman kisses him again, but it doesn’t go for long. It’s a hard kiss that only lasts a few seconds before Roman pulls away with a loud groan, teeth gritting together as his thrusts begin to lose their rhythm. Cody’s legs drop from his shoulders and Roman wraps an arm tightly around them to keep them both pressed against his chest, other hand pressing down hard on the bed to anchor himself.

“Take it,” Roman breathes out. “Be a good boy and take my come, alright?”

Cody is so far gone that he doesn’t even realize it when he moans out, “yes, daddy, give it to me!”

That name, that fucking name is all it takes for Roman to finish inside him with a primal moan as he throws his head back with pleasure. The feeling of being pumped full with hot come sends bouts of pleasure through Cody’s body and he’s immediately slipping a hand down to quickly start jerking himself off, moans bubbling up his throat as his climax nears in and then it happens and he’s finishing all over himself with a loud cry as his body shakes, his extremities heating up as he pleasure crashes through him in constant, overwhelming waves.

And by the end of it, Cody is a shell of a man. He can’t stop whimpering because he can still feel the pleasure, long after it subsides, and his body is buzzing. His ears are ringing and he feels like he’s floating.

Maybe he really is floating. Maybe he’s floating off high into the clouds to the heavens above. Maybe he was fucked so good he died.

Okay, he isn’t dead, but fuck, this would have been a lovely way to go.

  Roman lets out a shaky breath as he runs a hand back through his hair. He stares down at Cody, still whimpering, and his eyes continue down until he sees the mess on Cody’s stomach.

“Wait here,” Roman tells him.

Cody is groaning out in frustration as Roman pulls out, hand reaching down to feel at his ass in an attempt to replicate the full feeling. He knows it’s futile, but placebo and what have you.

Roman comes back momentarily with a wet, warm rag to help clean Cody’s abs. He even wipes his thighs before setting the rag aside on the nightstand with the lube. Afterwards, he sits up and looks back to his clothes, sans the shirt, lying on the floor.

He places his hands on his hips and bites at his lip. “I uh, guess I should probably head out-”

“No.”

Roman looks back at Cody’s protest and then looks down when he notices a hand clutching - weakly - at his wrist. He raises an eyebrow and looks up to Cody. “You want me to stay?” he asks.

Cody swallows heavily before letting out a gasp of air. “I mean - you don’t - you don’t have to like, stay for hours but if you wanna stick around for a bit, you can.”

“Nah, it���s cool.” Roman grins. “I can stay for a bit. Or… a lot a bit. Whatever you want.”

Cody manages a grin. “Yeah?”

Roman shrugs and climbs up to the headboard of the bed. “Yeah, I don’t got any place to be.” He rests an arm over his chest and then closes his eyes. “I’d rather be in bed with a pretty blonde than sleep by myself anyways.”

Cody’s grin grows wider as he looks over to Roman. He bites at his lip just so his happiness isn’t that obvious, and pulls himself up to properly lay his head on the pillow. “Yeah, I’d rather be in bed with a super hot, super strong Samoan than sleep by myself.”

Roman huffs a chuckle through his nose. “Looks like our desires are mutual.”

He’s right - and maybe a few other things could be mutual too.

[epic-sorcerer]

How gay people were actually precived in medival times

Ok so even after years of obsessive research, it sitll took me until recently to finally grasp a medival point of view on homosexuality. I’m assuming I’m not alone in my not understanding of it so I figured I might as well break it down for my fellow Merlin fans.

So basically, there was no consept of heterosexuality and homosexuality. There was only “female attraction” or “male attraction.” If a man possessed the same sexual attraction as a woman would, he would have a female attribute.

For this reason, they were considered “hermaphrodites.”

Unfortunately I’m going to have to keep saying this word, because modern ones jsut don’t make sense here. But please know that it is widely considered a slur among intersex people and originates from a Greek myth where hermaphrodite gets his body murjed with a woman who wants to rape him. So. Don’t call people that, please.

Anyways. Hermaphrodites were considered a medical condition and had to pick a gender to be, as they couldn’t simply exist as a third gender. This of course carried a lot of shame amongst the people who were concidered hermaphrodites. The gender was often chosen based on what sex characteristics were most prominent.

So, assuming the only “female traits” a male has is his homosexuality, they would likely stay as a man unless they really did not want to be. And even then, they would have to do it in secret because any deviation from their strict idea of gender was considered a threat to society. Witch is why hermaphrodites had to live as one male *or* female in the first place

I think this puts in to a lot of perspective on how I write Arthur especially. I originally would write Arthur as feeling very emasculated by being queer from a perspective of toxic masculinity.

But looking at it now, is that not gender dysphoria? Of course he doesn’t want to have female sex characteristics. When I’m a guy, I don’t either!

I’ve done lots of research and sighlent lurking on intersex spaces for a while now just because. But I think now I’ll start using that knolage to my advantage to my writing because it’s more realistic. I think murjing my experience as a queer person and intersex people’s experiences would make the sotry make a whole lot more sense.

I would recommend anyone to simply just follow the #intersex tag. But yk….if you’re not intersex you should probably stay silent unless you have a question or something. They get talked over a lot.

I am thankful that I have a direct tie from my hyoerfixation to intersex because while I have done my own research without it, it’s still difficult to do just about anything if it’s not about Merlin. Perhaps some other people reading this struggle in the same way.

I hoped this helped you guys, here’s my main source that really helped me. And you can ask me questions if you’d like.

[rubyreduji]

feels so good — ksy

summary: you and soonyoung wake up, and have sex. that simple really.

tags: smut (minors dni!), fluff, established relationship, trans male!reader warnings: brief touch on dysphoria but it connects to discussions of consent, explicit unprotected sex, switch verse!soonyoung and reader, strap ons, fingering, anal, oral, praise, degradation, use of titles and pet names (sir, tiger, baby), cum eating, hair pulling, light pinning, light choking, dick riding, aftercare reader notes: pre-op but on T, wears a binder, no use of female anatomy terms wc: 3.6k an: really any afab person can read this fic but just know the main intent is a transmasc reader and will reference trans things. happy birthday to me 🎉🏳️‍⚧️

Still bleary eyed, Soonyoung pats the bed next to where he’s laying, frowning when he finds it empty. He sits up and blinks a couple times until the room comes into a clear view.

“Well good morning sunshine,” you drawl from where you’re standing in the doorway. Soonyoung turns his head towards you and smirks a bit when you finally come into view, his eyes trail up and down your figure.

You’re leaning against the doorframe, staring right back at your boyfriend. You’re dressed in nothing but a tight pair of boxers that hug your thighs deliciously. Your hair is still a bit of a mess from your sleep and you have your arms crossed over your bare chest.

“With you looking like that, it is a good morning,” Soonyoung flirts and you snort in response.

“Oh shut up,” you mutter. You walk over to Soonyoung’s side of the bed and he reaches over and grabs you by the waist, tugging you onto the bed next to him. He flips you two around so he’s on top before he leans down to press kisses onto your face.

Soonyoung pulls away, staring down at you as he straddles your hips. “I’m so lucky to have such a handsome boyfriend.”

“You’re a fool,” you laugh. Your hands land on Soonyoung’s thighs and you rub your palms up and down his muscular legs. You start to get a bit advantageous as your fingers dip under the hem of Soonyoung’s sleep shorts and travel up farther up to the tops of his thighs.

Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at you with a small upcurve of his lip. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I’ve been waiting for you to get up.”

“You should have just woken me up if it was for this.” Soonyoung looks like he’s about to jump your bones (even more than he already has) but he stops himself. “How are you feeling this morning?”

No matter how many times Soonyoung does it, you can never get over how your heart swells with love when Soonyoung asks you about where he can touch you before having sex. “Uh, I’ll probably put a binder on before anything else starts, but you can touch over it. Down below I should be good for anything but I’ll keep you updated if it changes.”

Soonyoung nods along as you talk. “Do you want to put a binder on right now?”

“Yeah, kinda,” you admit and Soonyoung doesn’t hesitate to climb off of you. You stand up and dig through your dresser drawer to find one of your looser binders, knowing you’ll be doing physically exerting activities. You slip it on and adjust everything the way it should be before turning back to Soonyoung, feeling more secure and ready to continue on.

He’s still up and he walks over to where you’re standing. He slides his hands over your waist before pulling you into a kiss. You happily accept, pressing firmly into him. Your hands bury themselves into the hair at the hair at the name of his neck. You can feel Soonyoung’s hands rubbing up and down your back as you two make out.

Soonyoung uses his hold on you to move you towards the bed, still not pulling his lips away from you. Soonyoung pushes you back onto the bed before climbing back over you again. He leans down to attach his lips to your neck.

“M’gunna touch you, okay?”

“Yeah.”

You’re expecting his hand to move down your body but instead you feel him push his knee up against your core and you automatically buck your hips into it. Ever since you started hormones it doesn’t take much to get you going and your cock has been hard since the first time Soonyoung threw you onto the bed so you feel everything as Soonyoung’s knee crowds up between your thighs.

“Holy shit Soonyoung.” Your hips start to rock against Soonyoung’s leg as you try to get as much stimulation as you can.

“You’re making me hard,” Soonyoung says.

“That’s kinda the point.” You reach down and palm Soonyoung through his clothes. Soonyoung moans and throws his head back. He thrusts into your palm.

Soonyoung leans down to kiss you again. His bulge is nestled between your legs and you can feel him grinding against you. “Please fuck me,” he begs.

“You have to fuck me first though,” you tell your boyfriend through sporadic kisses. Soonyoung pulls away from you fully at your words, a whine leaving his throat.

“What? Why?”

“Don’t whine at me Kwon Soonyoung, you know why. If you let me fuck you first then you’ll be too worn out to fuck me and then I’ll be left here to jerk myself off while you recover.” You’ve made this mistake one too many times.

“But you hate putting the strap on after you’ve already cum. Please, please, please fuck me first. I promise I’ll fuck you afterward,” Soonyoung tells you. You cuss internally, he’s right.

“Fine, but if you don’t live up to your word I’m kicking you out of the bed for the rest of the week.” Before Soonyoung can complain again you push him off of your lap as you stand up to grab your strap on.

You love your dick. It’s a seven inch long, one and half inch diameter, upward curved model in your skin tone. Soonyoung bought it for you for both of your pleasures, his sexually and yours euphorically. You slide on your harness and attach the extremity to it.

On the bed Soonyoung is fingering himself open for you. He’s got two fingers crooked inside himself and you stare and watch him fuck his hole. You appreciate how good his body looks right now, naked and toned and flexible. His breath comes out in small pants, needy and wanting.

You walk over to the bed and push Soonyoung so he’s laying on his front. You pull his hips up so his knees brace his ass in the air. You run a finger over Soonyoung’s rim before dipping your finger in.

“Are you all prepped for me, tiger?” Soonyoung groans at the name and you smirk to yourself. You know exactly what you’re doing.

“Y-yes, please. Please, fuck me,” Soonyoung begs. 

You grab the lube Soonyoung left on the bed and drizzle some on your cock, smearing it over the tip and then down the length.

“So desperate already. You worked just from a few fingers in your hole?” You push the tip of your cock against his rim. It would take just one small thrust to enter Soonyoung, but you feel like making him wait a bit more.

Soonyoung pushes his ass up against you, grinding his hole against your strap. “Yes, please. You’re so hot, I need it, I need you.”

“What do we say?”

“Please, sir.” 

“Good boy,” you tell him. You grab onto his hips steadily and shove your hips into him. Soonyoung lets out a wanton moan, burying his face into the mattress as you do so. You chuckle.

Soonyoung’s fingers clench at the sheets and it reminds you of a tiger burying its claws into something. You roll your hips at a slow pace into Soonyoung. Your own fingers dig into his hips and you relish the way you can feel his taut muscles under his warm skin.

“Please, I need more, sir,” Soonyoung tells you.

“You want more? And here I thought we were going to have a soft morning, but my pretty boy wants me to be mean to him, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, please be mean to me.”

“Your wish is my command, love.”

You pull your hips back and slam them hard into Soonyoung’s ass. Soonyoung barely has time to gasp before you’re doing it again, and again, and again, gaining speed as you do so. The sound of slapping fills the air, mixed with Soonyoung’s shameless moans.

“What a little cockslut,” you say to no one in particular. “Drooling all over my sheets just from a small little dick being shoved in his ass.”

You can feel your own dick rub up against the base of your strap and you’re getting wetter and wetter as it does. You can’t focus on that though when you have a pliant little slut like Soonyoung under you right now.

You run your hand down Soonyoung’s spine before moving your hand back up to between his shoulder blades. You push down, shoving Soonyoung into the mattress even more. You pound into him harder and you’re sure that his ass is going to be sore later. You don’t really care though.

You move your hand up even further and bury your hand in the hair at the nape of his neck. You tug a bit and you feel Soonyoung shudder. 

“That’s it. Take it. Take my cock just like that, you like that don’t you baby?”

“S’much,” Soonyoung slurs out. “Feels s’good.”

Soonyoung’s eyes can barely stay open as his face is smushed against the bed. You think he looks pretty good like this. You want more though. Your pull your hips back and your cock slips out of Soonyoung and he whines at the empty feeling that overtakes him. You watch for a moment as his hole pulses.

You smack his hip. “Turn over. I wanna touch your cock.”

Soonyoung quickly obliges, happy with this arrangement. He turns over so he’s laying on his back and you line yourself back up to him. You slide in easily and Soonyoung lets out a soft sigh at the feeling. His head tilts back, his eyes closed, content with your cock buried inside of him again.

You grab his muscular legs and throw them both over your shoulders before starting to thrust into him again. One of your hands reaches around Soonyoung’s thigh and you find his neglected cock. You run your finger around the rim of his tip before grasping his length. You run your thumb over his slit and press down and Soonyoung hisses.

“Y/N,” he whines. You chuckle. Your pretty, pathetic boy.

You start to pump at him, matching your hand to your thrusts. You turn your head and kiss one of his calves and Soonyoung squirms. You can tell he’s getting close from the way his cock keeps twitching in your hand.

“Sir, please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me. You’re making me feel so good and I need it. Please, please, please,” Soonyoung babbles. You think it’s kind of cute and normally you’d draw this out more just to be mean, but you’ve soaked your thighs with your own arousal and you need Soonyoung just as bad as he needed you.

“Okay tiger, let it all out.”

Soonyoung cries at your words and he bucks his hips into your hand. Your cock speeds up inside of him and it only takes two more thrusts until Soonyoung is falling apart. His hole clenches down around your strap and his cock twitches in your hand as you milk him dry. His cum spurts all over his stomach as he whimpers through his orgasm.

You’re still slowly bucking into him as he goes limp, trying to catch his breath. He pushes at you with his legs and you understand what he means. You slowly pull out of his ass, letting his legs drop back to the bed.

You stare down at your boyfriend as he lays sprawled out on the bed. He’s covered in a sheen of sweat and there’s a bit of drool running down the corner of his mouth. His eyes are closed and you watch the way his chest moves up and down.

“You’re so pretty Soonie,” you whisper as you lean down and press a kiss to the tip of his cock. His body shudders at the feeling but you don’t let him rest as you run your tongue over his abs, collecting his cum on your tongue. You lick it all up, cleaning him off as you do. 

“Fuck Y/N,” Soonyoung mutters. “You didn’t have to go that hard.”

“But you were begging for it and you know I can’t resist it when you’re being a good boy for me.” 

“I thought you wanted to get fucked as well.”

“I do!” You’re throbbing even as you’re having this conversation and it’s driving you crazy.

“Then you shouldn’t have fucked me so hard!”

“C’mon Soonie, please. I’m so wet and my cock aches. It literally hurts. You did that to me. Please take care of it?” You beg. It’s not always so easy for you to switch between your dominant and submissive sides, but you’re feeling just needy enough today that you can easily slip from one to the other.

You climb up the bed so you’re face to face with Soonyoung. You give him your big eyes and his sighs. “Just, give me like five minutes.”

“Can we at least make out?”

“If I ever say no to making out, take me to a hospital,” Soonyoung says to you before pulling you close to him. 

Your lips slide together, fitting perfectly against one another. Soonyoung’s hand cups the side of your neck, just below your ear. You’re half laying on top of him and you throw one of your legs over his body so you’re straddling his waist.

“Fuck baby,” Soonyoung breaks off the kiss. You grind down against his abs, your wet, bare hole rubbing up against his warm body. “You’re fucking dripping. I can feel it on my stomach.”

“I told you, I’m so fucking needy right now Soonie.”

“Fuck, lemme eat you out. I’ll be able to get it back up after that.”

You snort at his words but still climb off of him. You lay down right where Soonyoung just was, and he climbs down to the foot of the bed. He pushes your legs apart for you, staring down at you like he’s a starving tiger and you’re his newest meal. His eagerness just makes you wetter. You’re glad you got rid of your boxers earlier or they’d be drenched by now.

His fingers reach out and trace around your entrance before dipping in and dipping back out, spreading your arousal all around. 

“Soonie,” you whine. “You’re really gonna tease me?”

“Sorry baby, I can’t help it. You’re so pretty like this,” Soonyoung whispers to you. “Want me to suck your cock?” You nod and wiggle your hips a bit. 

Soonyoung lays down on his front and leans down between your legs. His tongue pokes out of his mouth and circles around your bottom growth and you automatically buck your hips up at his face. Soonyoung laughs at you.

“Be a good boy and I’ll let you cum on my tongue,” Soonyoung tells you and you groan. His lips close around your cock and he sucks. His lips are soft and plump and made for sucking dick. Your thighs tense up as he continues to lick and suck at you, basically making out with your most sensitive parts.

You look down to see Soonyoung already looking at you, his eyes staring intently at you, watching to see your reactions, as he countinues to suck at your cock. Your walls clench down on air at the sight.

You move your legs to wrap around Soonyoung’s back, pulling him even more into you. Soonyoung isn’t seeming to have that though, and he hooks his arms around your thighs, holding you down.

“Behave,” he says, not bothering to pick his head up from between your legs. Fuck. That definitely turns you on even more. “Want something here?” His finger plays at your hole and you whine.

“Please, please. Fill me up Soonie. You know I need it.”

“Yeah baby, I do know.” With the slips his head even further down and his warm, wet tongue pushes into you. He licks into you and you cry out at the pleasured feeling that floods your body. His fingers replace where his mouth once was, and he plays with your dick, rubbing at it.

You grab a spare pillow from beside your head and push it onto your face, covering up the noises you’re making. You can feel your walls pulsing as Soonyoung tongues at you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so close, I can feel it,” Soonyoung murmurs. The movement of his mouth vibrates against you and you’re mixed between wanting him to continue doing that or shutting up so he can go back to sticking his tongue in you.

“Please Soonie, please. I need it. I’ve been so needy all morning.”

“I know baby. Cum all over my tongue.” His lips slide over you before he pushes his tongue back into you. His fingers tug at your cock in just the right way and your hips buck up and you’re clenching down. 

“Shit, shit Soonyoung,” you growl as he puts all of his efforts into working you through your orgasm.

He eventually comes up from between your legs, a stupid smile on his face. “You always taste so good, baby.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter. It’s now you’re turn to be the fucked out on.

“Mmm, I told you I’d be able to get it back up.” Soonyoung says, looking down at his hard cock. “Still have more in you?”

You scoff like he’s presented you with a challenge. Instead of replying you climb up onto your knees and shove Soonyoung around until you can push him up against the headboard. You kiss him deeply and he accepts. He wraps his arms around you, his hands sitting in the small of your back. You two fight for dominance in the kiss, your teeth and lips clashing against each other’s.

“Gonna fucking mount you,” you say to him as he moves his mouth to kiss at your neck. “You want me to ride your dick?”

“Just as much as you want to ride my dick.” You’d scoff at him but, well, he’s not wrong.

Soonyoung grabs his cock and lines it up to you before helping you sink down onto him. His cock is long, but on the skinnier side, and you can feel his his tip touch your wall with ease as you settle down against his balls.

“Fuck me hard Soonie,” you whisper to him and Soonyoung lets his resolve break as he grabs onto your hips.

He guides you up and down his cock, thrusting his hips to meet each of your bounces as he does. He leans forward and kisses at your neck and chest and any other free skin he can reach from his position. You can hear the squelch of your hole and you cringe a bit at just how wet you are. You blame the hormones.

You can't so much as Soonyoung fucks up into you, so you just dig your fingers into his shoulders. You let out small moans and grunts as Soonyoung keeps ramming up into you.

“God, you’re so good for me like this. You feel so good around me Y/N, it's insane.”

“Soonie,” you whine.

“Mmm, good boy,” he tells you and you preen at the praise you were hoping to get. His hand moved up your body, sliding up your chest from your hip up to your neck. He doesn’t grab onto your neck completely, but he has a firm grip on the base of your neck, his fingers digging into the skin right above your collar bones.

Your head goes light from it. Soonyoung knows it’s one of your favorite things, and one of the quickest ways to get you off. He must be getting close already, as well. You guess it’s just one of those days. You reach down and slip your fingers against your cock, rubbing at it to get you even closer.

Soonyoung pulls you down to kiss him again before sticking his tongue into your mouth, licking up against your own tongue. Your mind is foggy and all you can think about is Soonyoung and your pleasure. His cock is digging deep into you and your legs feel weak and you can barely breathe and it feels so fucking good.

With one final jerk to your cock, you feel your body give out. Your legs tremble as you spasm around Soonyoung’s cock. You fall against him, not able to hold yourself up anymore. Soonyoung doesn’t care though and he wraps his arms around your back before speeding up his thrusts. He fucks into you like you’re nothing but a toy for him to use to get off.

“Fucking, ugh, love your hole,” Soonyoung grunts as he pushes into you one last time before spilling his seed right into you. It takes him a second to empty out all the way and when he finally goes he falls back against the headboard, tired out. You lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder, his cock still twitching inside of you.

Neither of you move, just hold on to each other and catch your breaths. Soonyoung’s hands rub up and down your back soothingly and you press soft kisses into his shoulder. It takes another five minutes before Soonyoung slides out of you, his cum dripping out of you as he does.

“Hot,” Soonyoung mumbles and you snort. He climbs out of the bed and you watch as he walks on slightly wobbly legs out of the bedroom. He comes back a few minutes later with a rag and a glass of water.

He helps clean you up and presses a kiss to your hip when he’s finished. You drink half the glass of water and give it to him to drink the rest of it.

“You should go piss,” Soonyoung tells you as he flops down onto the bed. “And change out of your binder too, you can take one of my sweatshirts if you want.”

“Yeah, okay,” you mutter. “Promise me cuddles when I get back?”

“Yeah, of course,” Soonyoung says, kissing your cheek. “It’s not like I’m getting up anytime soon. I’m not joking, my ass hurts so much right now.” You laugh at your boyfriend, you called it. 

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[trans-luis-serra-navarro]

hi! do you have serennedy headcanons about luis and leon being parents?

Hello!! Of course I do omg are you kidding me!!!!!!! I have a whole tag on my main @wisecrackingeric-2 titled ‘DadSerennedyAU’ if you wanna see my own spin on the idea!!!!! ORRRR if you wanna read something from yet another incredibly talented artist and author I CANNOT recommend @mooseonahunt ‘s AU enough!!!! And I know the lovely @geddy-leesbian has made some posts on this subject also!!!!!!!

But in terms of Headcannons I have plenty!! I’ll put them below the cut to avoid clogging anyone’s dashes!!

Edit: THIS IS UH UM. V E R Y LONG. I WENT KINDA BUCKWILD WITH THIS ONE AHDNCHDNXUXJXJ SO UH PLEASE ENJOY I GUESS!!

• First and foremost they are t4t. Sorry I don’t make the rules (also. Look at my blog name HQNAHWNEHDNDUDJ /lh)

• I imagine it was probably Luis who wanted a kid- we don’t know much about Leon’s childhood other than the fact that his parents died (the very wonderful @highball66 has some more information on the backstory we DO have for him!!) and thus we don’t really have a good idea of what his relationship with his parents might’ve been- but Luis is the TOTAL opposite. We know from context clues that he had a really strong relationship with his Grandfather, who went as far as to encourage his love for science and the unorthodox in an incredibly strict Catholic environment, and it’s implied on some level that Bitores Mendez had some hand in helping raise him, so I can imagine that Luis is very attached to the idea of parenthood and would probably wanna be the same kind of man his Grandfather was to him!!!

• Leon???? Realistically???? Probably a whole lot more hesitant- like he almost dies on the job everyday there’s no way he’d feel fit enough to raise a kid. But also,,,,, this is resident evil and also fiction where we can do whatever the hell we want so hell yeah he comes around to the idea eventually!!!!!!

• Luis is probably accidentally VERY clingy with their kid/a lil overbearing during the toddler age. Everything he’s ever contributed to in his life has either hurt others or he’s destroyed it one way or another- and everyone he’s held closest to him dies in some way. And going off of the first point, he’s probably put a LOT of pressure on himself to be a good Dad like his Grandfather was, so that usually ends up with him hogging the baby HCNNSSNSJSNIS

• Leon, again similar to my last point, would probably have the opposite reaction where he has this gut instinct to keep his distance- like he’s worried if he gets too attached it’s all gonna be ripped away from him just like Sherry was all of those years ago. But I highly doubt either of their qualms last for very long- they’d talk things out and figure out something that works for the both of them <3

• They’d probably go with the same middle and last name as Luis- ‘Serra’ and ‘Navarro’. I know I keep repeating myself but Luis had a really good relationship with his Grandfather and his culture/heritage clearly means a lot to him (ie; the intro to Seperate Ways), so being able to keep that little piece of his history alive would probably mean the world to him <<33

• And going off of that, Luis is ALWAYS trying to encourage their kid to learn more about their culture and heritage- teaching them Spanish, cooking them traditional foods, etc etc etc and when Luis isn’t there to do it, Leon is always more than happy to do so <<<<<<33333

• Let’s be real,,,,,,, Leon is coming up with the cringiest baby names ever HXNEHENDUXNXU CMOOOOOON LOOK AT MR. WHERES EVERYONE GOING BINGO!!!!! But Luis probably isn’t much better BCNENWEJSJ I can easily picture him convincing Leon that noooooo Alonso or Miguel aren’t references to Don Quixote hahahahahaha omg what’re you taaaalking abooout. So anyways if it were a girl what about Dulcinea-

• I’m picturing them choosing to have a kid a lil bit later than most people (like,, late 30’s-early 40’s??? So not like they’re old or anything but it’s not like they’re having kids in their early 20’s yk HNCSHDNSJ) so for that reason in my mind they’d probably only want one kid

• Very predictable but they both read Don Quixote to their kid when putting them to sleep and/or they sing them lullabies in Spanish. Who here is surprised for that one certainly not me

• And once again WHO IS SURPRISED, the kid’s room is very subtly Don Quixote themed. Lil stuffed donkeys and windmill motifs everywhere you get it (<- normalest guy alive)

• Leon’s probably the one who does more physical activities with their kid- realistically, Luis is N O T surviving that knife to the back without some major lifelong injuries, so Leon’s the one who always carry’s their kid on his shoulders or swings him around when they’re playing etc etc

• I think Luis would be a lil sad that he isn’t able to join in on those kinds of physical activities, but he’d absolutely make up for it by taking their kid to work or teaching them general hands-on skills n stuff!!

• Leon ABSOLUTELY would wanna teach their kid self-defence as early as possible. He obviously mellows out and realises hey maybe teaching a 10 year old how to wield a knife is a Bad Idea, but with everything he’s seen in his life there’s no way he wouldn’t want his kid to know how to defend themselves at LEAST

• Wild-card one here but the three of them ABSOLUTELY take family trips to Madrid or other cities in Spain during the summer

• Last wild-card one but sometimes Luis will look at their kid and see his Grandfather so clearly he just starts fuckim bawlimg. Same with Leon. He sees the childhood he could’ve had and sometimes he’s gotta excuse himself to cry. Love these beautiful idiots

Tl;dr they would be very very wonderful parents who would love their kid with all of their heart and soul and you can put that headcannon from my COLD DEAD HANDS!!!!!!

[poisonedspider]

poisonedspider: INDIE roleplay blog for ANGEL DUST (ANTHONY) from HAZBIN HOTEL. Incredibly NSFW muse. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Spoilers present. Canon divergent. Semi-selective. Medium activity. Multipara/Novella literate writer for 20+ years. Multiverse and multi-ship. Mostly head canon based representation of (one) famous porn star. Mature and triggering content present, must be 21+ to interact. Blog will explore extreme trauma, abandonment, s*xual assault, physical violence, death, etc. Mutuals only, please! Authored by Strode, he/him, 30+. Re-established April 2024 (originally wrote in July 2019). Please read rules under the cut on this post.

Stand-alone blog, not strictly affiliated with the Hazbin/Helluvaverse and community (and certainly not in support of Vivzie). Open to any and all characters and interactions. Let it be known I am NOT AN ASK BLOG. Personals are allowed to follow, but will not be followed back and will be BLOCKED if they keep interacting with my stuff. Do not reblog this post.

Angie's main bitches: @featheredbarkeep, @sirserpentine, @veelentino, @hazbinned, @mothvalentino, @widdlestwucifer, @doublejango, @grimowled, @voxxisms and @hzbinsouled.

Don’t be an asshole. Literally my number one rule, and basically my only rule. This is a hobby. We are nerds writing as fictional characters. I’m too old to feel in high school again. If you don’t like what I write, the block button is a function. Block me, and move along. Forget I exist. I do not participate in call out culture, and will not be forced to choose sides.

Memes are definitely the best way to interact with me. I personally will turn all memes into threads, as I feel that’s the point of them. You don’t have to necessarily continue them, but I’d appreciate if you did because I put a lot of thought and energy into my replies.

Never feel the need to match my length (I write a lot), but also know that I reserve the right to delete a thread if I don’t feel like what you wrote gives me enough information to write a well thought out reply. Also always feel free to delete threads I send to you that you no longer have muse for. This is for fun, it isn’t a homework assignment. You don’t need to explain yourself on your own blog!

I don’t work full-time, but that doesn’t mean I’m not constantly busy. I’m traveling almost every other weekend, and I’m trying to put my energy into being off Tumblr if I can help it. I may not always have the spoons to talk or do replies, even if you see me online. Just please be patient with me!

There will be a LOT of R-rated material on this blog. Almost everything will be NSFW - look at the show content, and especially this character. I do my best to tag all triggers, but please let me know if something specifically triggers you and I’ll edit it to be tagged right away so you can blacklist it. I’m still going to keep writing it, though. This is my blog. It is not my duty to make sure that you have a safe space, and if you don’t feel safe, I will not be remotely offended if you unfollow to keep your dash what you want it to be. It’s kind of impossible to write Angel and Angel’s story without some triggers coming up (Episode 4? Yeaaaah.)

Personals, do NOT reblog things. It already happened from the hour I made this blog, and it will become an automatic block. This is a roleplay blog. Period. I am also not an Ask Roleplay Blog, so while I may respond to some of those things in jest, it isn’t the purpose of this blog. Hazbin fan blogs and whatnot, leave my stuff out of it. If you continue to do this, I will report your blog. 

Angel Dust is gay. He will not be having romantic relationships with any females in the show. The only way he would ever be with a female, is if for whatever reason Valentino decided that he needed to sleep with a woman for his porn. Which I can’t see happening but….yeah. 

Speaking of Valentino, the way I play Angel is him still definitely within the confines of the contract. He might do things he is ashamed/embarassed of and doesn’t want to actually do because of the contract. Dubcon will probably be explored on here to some degree because he struggles saying no to Val. That doesn’t stop him from fighting back, but he’s going to do some gross things because his soul is owned. Also, my Angel does have love for Val. That doesn't mean I ship them AT ALL. It means that I have no shame as a therapist in exploring the cycle of abuse and toxic relationships, and that this is incredibly important to my Angel's story.

This being said, dubcon would be the only thing I'd put under a Read More because I know other people hate it. I don't really intend to write it out, but people could argue that Valentino using his 'poison' is considered dubious consent, and yeah, I'm going to write that and flesh it out a bit. As for other read mores, I'm lazy and it ain't gonna happen. You followed a character who is a sex worker. There's going to be smut. Murder. Cussing. That's the content of the show. I have no shame putting it out in the open. As mentioned, you can check the trigger warnings on my posts before reading something.

I’m a multipara/novella roleplayer. I’ll do some one liners and crack stuff, but it won’t be as common. I want to have elaborate threads. I want to flesh out this character. I’m going to come up with things about him that Vivzie doesn’t and make him a little bit my own. And that comes from writing, writing, writing. If I don't reply to you, it's probably because I can't work with one liners and I am stumped.

All the graphics and whatnot on this blog were either created or commissioned specifically by/for me. (I know I’m not a fabulous photoshop graphic maker but hey I tried). Do not steal from me. If I find out that you have, I will report your blog for theft. Majority of the graphic work on here is done by both @cerberuscommissions and @17webs.

DO NOT GODMODE. I will literally scream, cry, and throw up (okay, not literally). This is my blog, and I want to control Angel in my way. Please and thank.

I don't necessarily need people to reblog from the source, but if my activity is blowing up with the same person reblogging and reblogging, I'll kindly ask you to stop. If you continue, that will lead to a block because I already have hundreds of drafts and don't have time to swim through activity.

Sorry fam, I don't do Discord. I've had a few people ask, and while yes I do have it, I have it with a burning fiery passion. All roleplaying will be done here and here alone, because I like to have a Tumblr blog as a sort of 'archive.'

As for the mains (listed above), to not be discouraged just because I have mains. I was avoiding choosing them for a bit because I hate how it can feel like favoritism, but the fact of the matter is that there are unfortunately people on here that Angel has much more muse for, and that I talk to ooc almost every day. Those people get first priority. Let it be known that does NOT mean they are exclusives. As mentioned, I will be writing with every single character, no limitations. Nor are there any rules specifically associated with my mains. Mostly just means they get priority on things.

I don't have any triggers. Period. I appreciate people asking me if such and such is okay in a thread before we do it, but really, just do whatever your character feels they would do. I'm a therapist. And sure, therapists have their triggers too. But I've been exposed to so much shit that nothing really phases me anymore.

I do not own the character Angel Dust or any content from Hazbin Hotel. I am not associated with Vivziepop and am in fact an Anti-Viv blog (please don't associate me with her). Shocker, I know. But gotta put that on here. 

Tldr; Be chill, have fun, don’t follow if don’t like hypersexuality, severe trauma, or sassy gay men.  

[courtingchaos]

Tryouts

Bully Masterlist

Summary: Lucas and Max have a conversation without having one; end of summer signups begin.

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: None

A/N: I was gonna be corny here and talk about the long lead up but like, no one else has been anticipating me posting this the way I have. I’ve been on the edge of my own seat waiting and the muse finally came back from the corner store, surprisingly with the cigarettes she promised. This is a prelude of sorts, a small snippet of life outside of the main story. Expect more of these as it progresses, everyone is up to something.

No Explicit Content but 18+ No Minors

“Wait so you’re gonna actually try out for soccer?” Lucas stops walking out of shock while Max just keeps across the parking lot towards the arcade.

“It isn’t so much a ‘try out’ as it is ‘show up and be interested’.” She stops to wait for a car and shoots her boyfriend a look over her shoulder. “So don’t get too excited, they’ll take literally anyone.”

“Hey! I’ll be excited anyways!” He catches up to her at the door, shooting his arm around her to cut her off from grabbing it for herself. Lucas sees the eye roll and chooses to ignore it. “We can be like, an athlete couple.”

“Oh my god.”

“We could trade Lettermans.”

She tries to hide it but he can see her grin that she pulls off to the side of her face. “Sick. You’re sick Sinclair.”

“Oh come on, you know you want to.”

Max stops at the token machine to dig out her wad of dollar bills. “I don’t even know if I want to play! I’m just…looking for something to get me out of the house.”

Lucas leans on the top of the machine to singsong at her. “There’s always a seat at the table.” He wiggles his eyebrows and she hates that she laughs.

“In Wheeler’s fart infested basement? I don’t think so.” She scoops the tokens out to hand them to Lucas, her own personal coin purse while she keeps her high score for the afternoon. “He doesn’t make El do it so why should I be forced to play?”

“He doesn’t force her and plus, they aren’t talking right now.”

“What?” She whips her head to look at him. “She didn’t tell me anything!”

Lucas gives her a side eye before walking away towards the Dig Dug machine and Max follows him close, hands pulling at his shoulders to get him to stop moving, and when he doesn’t, fingers dig into his side to try and tickle it out of him.

“Tell me! What happened!” If this was anyone else she might consider this bullying with the way she pulls at the hem of his shirt and shakes his whole body when all he gives her for an answer is a laugh at her pretend annoyance. It isn’t until she manages to get a leg up off the stool and onto his back that he threatens to drop her tokens.

“If I get off you, you’ll tell me?” She asks him directly in his ear so he winces away with a chuckle.

“If you get off me I won’t drop your coins.”

Lucas hands her two tokens when she puts both feet on the ground and nods his head at the arcade. A silent standoff for a moment before Max gives up with a heavy sigh, sitting down when the tune jingles behind the screen.

“Okay, this morning Mike called to hang out and I told him we were gonna be busy but he could tag along if he wanted to.”

“Why do you do that?”

Lucas ignores her. “But he said he didn’t want to be around you because you were probably gonna make fun of him all day and if he wanted that, he’d just go over to El’s.”

“So they had another fight?”

“I guess? It sounds like she was teasing him about being in the basement all summer with his Nintendo and he blew up.”

Max frowns at the screen. “Did he say that? I don’t think I’ve ever heard him own up to a damn thing.”

“Surprisingly, yeah. He said that Hopper came in and told him to get the hell out if he was gonna yell like that.”

“He got yelled at by dad? No thank you.” She shakes her head a little to stop the memory of last night from resurfacing and of course Lucas catches it. Try as she might to keep her family stuff firmly behind the front door of their home, it’s been sneaking out lately and waving at anyone who pays attention, Lucas in particular.

“You okay?”

Her eyebrows knit before she can stop it but she’s focused on the game, fingers tapping on the thick buttons. If she doesn’t respond then maybe Lucas will shrug it off and keep telling her about Mike having a tantrum. Maybe he’ll tell her about the Fighter he built for her and try for the hundredth time this summer to get her to play the dumb dice game. Or maybe he’ll double down and bring up her brother’s black eye.

“I saw Billy peeling out earlier.”

There it is, she thinks to herself and holds back the eye roll. “So did half the neighbors. He likes the attention.”

“He stopped long enough to flip me the bird.” He laughs like it’s normal.

“Yeah?” The game means nothing now. Her fingers slap at the cabinet and Lucas just keeps looking at her with pity. “Well don’t feel bad for him, he should know when to shut up.” She acknowledges it but won’t name it, especially when she was there for its christening. Voices that raised over her headphones, the splintering of a mistreated door being kicked in for the twentieth time and a loud smack of knuckles before it’d gone silent. “He pushes Neil for fun.”

Lucas stares at her like everyone else has that’s ever seen her stepdad go off on his kid.

Max feels the lump crawling fast up her throat so she swallows to keep it tucked below her ribs where it can settle until later. “Lucas…” His name comes out soft on the end of a heavy sigh. She doesn’t really have anything to say, nothing she wants to admit to him right now, at least not while the sun is shining.

To his credit he looks uncomfortable in the face of her minor slip but it’s gone as soon as she notices it. “You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

Talking without talking. It’s like their special ability, their mutant powers, not quite mind reading but close. He asks her the obvious question without using the words so she isn’t embarrassed. So others don’t overhear.

She really thinks about it. Tries to remember a time that Neil had ever directed that temper at her and comes up with a blank. It’s always anger by association, always behind Billy when the blame rolls in no matter how loud she’d get about her part in the issue. That had only happened once and her mother had swiftly pulled her out of the room and into the car and they’d gone to the mall for most of the day. Max thinks about all the times she’s come home to a new bruise on Billy or another broken dish in the trash. She thinks about how Lucas has never seen the inside of her house but she’s been all over his, every nook and even through the attic, even through Mrs. Sinclair’s garden.

“Yeah.”

The game jingles at her in a mocking defeat but the wasted tokens don’t matter. She stares at Lucas who does his best to wait for her, his hands shoved far into his shorts pockets until she makes the slightest move for him and he wraps her in a hug, tight and lighting quick. Thankfully it’s lunch time and thankfully the attendant today has wandered off and thankfully it’s just them in the arcade with all its trills and beeps. Cabinet screens flash around them and all that matters is the hug and the quietly whispered “I’m sorry” that Lucas presses into the top of her head.

Lucas agreed to meet Max at the field ten minuets after her drop off time to avoid anymore general jackassery from Billy, but when he’d folded himself out of the backseat of Steve’s car he’d had to brace himself. The Camaro sat idling on the far side of the field with its owner leaning on the hood, a brunette vying for his attention next to him, but no redhead in sight.

“You okay?” Steve asks while pointedly staring at Billy across the field.

“Yeah I’m…he won’t do anything here.”

There’s the trill of whistles and Robin is shooting out of the passenger seat, cursing and slamming her foot into a cleat. “I told you we were gonna be late!” She screeches at Steve as she barrels down the small slope with her bag swinging wildly from her shoulder. She waves both hands at the coach and yells something about traffic and that’s when Dustin gets out of the car finally, his finger pointed to the middle of the group of girls.

“There she is.”

Red hair shines bright in the early morning sun and Lucas can’t help the smile that grows wide. Beside him Dustin nudges him, says something about googly eyes and makes his horrible whip sound but Lucas tunes him out. Max is tucked into herself until Robin pushes her way over and a smile appears, a laugh too when she points up to the three of them on the hill and she grabs Max’s hand to flop it at them in a crude wave.

Dustin waves back with the folded up signup sheet and he elbows Lucas again. “See man? Nothing to worry about.”

“I know. I just—“

“Worry?”

“Shut up.” It’s good natured. Dustin laughs and asks him again if he filled out the papers, if he brought his character sheet and it isn’t until Steve whistles at them and points to the school parking lot that Dustin finally cuts it out. A van has rumbled in and before it can park, a shaggy head pops out and looks around before throwing his hands up and yelling.

“Henderson!”

Dustin takes off, calling Lucas with him over his shoulder to follow, but Lucas hangs back for a minute. He watches Max whispering with Robin, can see her easing up. The smile hasn’t left her face, just faded into the conversation as she nods her head along to something said to her. Beside him Steve sighs when the horn on the van goes off three times in quick succession and Lucas looks over to see Dustin giving him a pointed, annoyed look.

“I’d go over there before he pisses Munson off.” Steve seems to be watching Lucas struggle to leave and he taps him on the arm to assure him. “I’ll keep an eye on her, okay? I promise I won’t let anything happen.”

“Thanks man.”