#but i desperately needed to see es on paper again.

[the-acid-pear-art]

Estefany frustration compilation

[romanarose]

Misunderstanding

Marc Spector x fem!reader

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Summary: When the boys come home early and see boxes all packed and furniture on the street, Marc jumps to the worst option. Clearly, you're leaving him.

Warnings: PIV sex, wall sex, oral f!recieving, manhandling, rough needy smut but loving and passionate, anxiety attack, Marc's self loathing but reader adores him. Calling Marc all kinda of cute nick names.

Immersability: Reader is fem, afab. Reader can be largly supported against the wall by Marc's strong arms <3

A/N: Commission done for @minigirl87 thank you SOOOOOOO much for your patience!!! Next time I do commissions i need to not do them right before moving. Left me quite behind. Anyway appreciate you so much!

Support creators! Reblog!

2.2k words

********************

Chaos made Marc anxious.

So, that’s why you decided to do spring cleaning while he and the boys were at work, hoping to get most of it done before the boys returned from work. What threw all your plans out of whack was a chance spotting on facebook marketplace. The prettiest furniture you’ve ever seen in your life was for fucking free. The owners were cleaning out the house from their mom who just passed, and just wanted the furniture to go to someone who’d love it like their mom did. And boy did you love it. The style was French Louis XVI. Fucking beautiful. So, you were making room. 

A lot was going to be given away with permission from your boys, and you’d be doing a lot of reorganizing of Steven’s books. A lot of trash, oh my god so much trash. Marc sure did love take out, even if it drove Jakey crazy. Then your old furniture was hauled out into the street for the garbage on tuesday, or some desperate soul. You hadn’t quite gotten to organizing Steven’s books and papers, but the trash was picked up, floors swept and mopped, and the old furniture was out. You needed to pick up your dream furniture, so you hopped into your car.

Steven was elated he got to go home early. It was only an hour, but that’s an hour more with you!!! You loved extra time with you!! There was a spring in his step, happily humming along to some song on Jake’s playlist on their phone. 

Until he saw it.

‘Aye, ¿que es?’ Jak asked, interrupting Steven’s happy thoughts.

Marc. ‘Is that… our furniture?’ 

“Oh my god…” Steven murmurs, slowing his steps. All their things were on the street.

‘She’s leaving us.’

“Oh, will you calm the hell down.” But Steven was a little nervous. He walks up the apartment stairs, ready to find you and get it all sorted out but… you weren’t there. The place looked so bare, so empty… The pictures on the walls were taken down, all the memories together, clothes were half-sorted in the bedroom and sheets off the bed…

You were gone. You didn’t want them anymore.

Marc took the body, pulling out his phone and calling you multiple times, but you went straight to voicemail.

“She’s done with us” Marc groans, backing against the wall. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

‘Mate, you need to calm down’ Steven tried to assure Marc, but he was nervous too.

Marc slid down the wall, beginning to panic. “Not this again…”

Jake and Steven attempted to tell him there’s another reason, logically.

‘She wouldn't just us… leave us’ Jake insisted. ‘She’s not like that. She’d tell us if there was an issue.’

None of this helped calm Marc, and he mentally checked out, sitting against the wall on the floor staring out the window.

That’s how you found Marc, dissociating and mentally checked out when you got home.

“Marcy Marc? Baby? Are you okay?” You toss your keys onto the counter and approach him, but stop when he suddenly jerks towards you like a scared animal.

Marc looks up, eyes wide and mouth agape as he scrambles to stand up. “Holy shit, you’re here…” He mutters, dashing over to you. “Baby, whatever it is, I swear to god I’ll fix it-” Marc hugs you so tightly it knocks the breath out of you with the force of him, strong arms wrapped tightly around you. Normally, you loved his bear hugs, they made you feel safe and oh-so loved, but right now his actions warned you he was upset. You always knew when your man was in distress, even when he tried to hide it. He wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry-”

You hug him right back. “Marc, honey, what’s going on? You didn’t do anything wrong.” That you know of, but honestly you couldn’t foresee Marc, Jake or Steven doing anything bad enough for you to be upset about. Only thing would be… Gently, so he knows you aren’t rejecting his affection, you nudge him away so you can look in his eyes. However, you keep hold on his arms. Marc’s love language was physical touch, so you always showed your love to him this way.

“Baby…” You look into his eyes, keeping your tone and facial expressions soft. “Have you heard from Khonshu lately?”

Confusion spreads on Marc’s face, his already large eyes widening. “No! Nonononono is that what this is about? You thought I was with Khonshu again?”

You were confused too. “I didn’t think anything was happening until I came home and you were against the wall. Marc, sweetheart.” You search his face for answers. “Can you just tell me what’s going on? I’m confused.”

He sputters a bit, trying to find the words. “Y-you’re leaving! You’re leaving us…”

You blink at him. “Huh? I’m not leaving you, god Marc, whatever got you this worked up? Sweetie, I’ve never been happier than with you three…”

“The furniture is on the street… Things are packed up… And, and and- the pictures! The pictures, they’re are taken down, our whole life together is off the walls-”

Ah. “Marc…” You realize what happened now. “Oh sweetheart, sweetie pie… I’m not leaving you. I’m doing spring cleaning. Remember, last week we went over what I could give away?”

The recognition slowly starts to spread across his face. “But… the pictures…”

“I took them down to wash the walls.”

“Oh… and the furniture?” It was beginning to click for him. This was all a misunderstanding.

You smile softly. “I found the coolest furniture. Steven will love it.”

He blinked. And again. “So… you don’t hate me?”

Your heart nearly broke at his words. “Oh Marc, no!” You gather him up in your arms again. “My sweet, sweet man I could never!”

You see his lip quiver a bit, but instead of crying Marc crashes his mouth into yours, large hands groping at your body with a fevur, like he couldn't believe you were real, that you were still here, still wanted him.

And he needed you.

“C’mere-” He grunted, gripping your asscheeks and pulling you towards him as he kisses you, mouth claiming yours in desperation.

Instantly you were filled with desire; Marc tended to do that to you. He was so handsome, so kind, so gentle you couldn’t help giving your all to him right away. Marc backed you up against the wall, the hand behind your head preventing you from smacking it against the plaster. He always looked out for you like that. You could feel his hardness as his wide hips ground into you, his plump pressed stomach against yours. You love how he’s softened, still so strong, but the safety of your home and the very idea that he wasn’t on the run and living in storage units… His body felt as safe as his mind did.

Marc’s mouth consumed you, licking into your mouth as his knee rid up between your legs. In loose, thin basketball shorts you felt his thick, manly thighs and sigh and pleasure.

“Marc…” You moan for him, unable to control the sounds of pleasure from escaping your mouth as you work yourself on his body. Hitching a leg up against his side, you cling to Marc for stability as he uses his grip on your ass for leverage, dragging you up and down on him. Marc’s kisses are insatiable, you feel as if he is attempting to breathe you in with heavy pants, kissing your lips and neck. Your face is wet from the open-mouth kisses.

Suddenly, and without warning, just as you are approaching the precipice humping his thigh, Marc pulls away and for a moment you think he got in his own head again, but then you are turned, face pressed against the wall but not painfully. Marc pulls your hips out, bends down to pull down your shorts and fucking picks you up by your pressed together legs to pull the shorts away. If that wasn’t sexy enough, he then kicks apart your ankles forcing your legs open. You aren’t even sure when Marc undid his pants, but before you know it, he is thrusting into your pliant and waiting body.

“M-Marc…” You repeat, his name the only thing on your mind is his name and his cock. Okay and maybe his hand wrapping around your front and snaking up your body. He plays with your grunts, grunting with his breaths hot against your ear and in time to the slamming thrusts of his hips. You brace against the wall, pushing your ass out more to take more of his length inside you.

“Thought I lost you…” He mutters, face tucked into your neck. 

“Never, never Ma- AH!” You cry out when he  squeezes a tit hard, pressing bruises through your shirt. “You-mmmph-you’re stuck with me.”

He pounds your core, rough thrusts mixed with soft kisses. You tilt your head back, desperate for his mouth, his love, his affection yours. He obliges, always knowing what you need and meeting your mouth to sloppily make out with you like horny teenagers. It was needy, it was desperate, it was Marc’s complete and utter relief that he was not going to be left shattered. He filled you over and over and again, the fat tip of his cock pressing up against that beautiful spot inside you. When you came, it was hard, pulsing on his cock again and again and again. Marc wrapped his arm under your middle as your legs began to feel like jell-o. 

“Mine.” He growls, spilling his cum inside you. “Fucking mine. Don’t every fucking scare me like that again.”

You want to tell him you didn’t that he jumped to his own conclusions but you were barely standing when he twirled you around again. Dropping to his knees, Marc looked up at you, large and wet brown eyes gazing at you in adoration. He was beautiful, so fucking beautiful…

“I won’t…” You whisper down to his hopeful face. “I promise. I love you so much.”

With a relieved look on his face, Marc smiles at you and god is it nice to see him smile. “I love you too, baby.” With that, he hitches a leg over his shoulder and dives into your pussy. Between his cum and yours, it’s a mess down there and that’s further evidenced by the absolutely obscene sounds coming from his mouth as he sluuuurped up the evidence of your time together. Marc was eager, eating his own cum out of you while keeping your supported against the wall. You knew he wouldn’t let you fall. His tongue swirled against your clit, making you buck against him so one hand pinned your hips to the wall. He ate like this was his last meal, like his salvation came from your pleasure.

When he sucked on the sensitive nub, you cry out his name and dig your fingers into Marc’s dark curls, keeping him close to you. As if he’d ever leave. You were close again, the whirling swirling feeling deep inside you continuing to build like a twister into a tornado as you chant Marc, Marc, Marc like the repetition of a Rosary. His tongue flicked inside you, one hand keeping you upright against the wall and the other playing with your clit, making you come apart directly into his mouth.

You pull on his hair so hard you worry you’re hurting him but the way Marc shoves his face into you even harder spurs you on. You can hear and feel him moaning into you as he laps up your release, a soft mmmmmm reverbating against your pussy and prolonging it as you ride his face. Your left leg is so tired, so sore, starting to wobble and Marc notices as he finally pulls away. Marc helps you slide down the wall, landing you safely on your bottom.

On his hands and knees, Marc Spector crawls to you, kissing your lips tenderly but you can see his own exhaustion too. Cupping his face in both your hands, you kiss Marc as you lay him down on your naked lap. You’re surprised with how quickly Marc’s full lashes flutter closed, his head resting between the crux of your thigh and stomach.

You play with his hair. He seems so tired, today must’ve taken it out of him. After a whole day of work, coming home to thinking you were gone. You know how anxiety can physically drain you.

“That really scared you, huh?” You say, petting him like a cat. You swear you can hear him pur.

Marc talks soft, sleepy, eyes never opening. “Yeah. Thought I lost you… I can’t do that.”

“I’ll never leave you, sweetie. And I’d certainly never leave like that… But I know how anxiety can be.”

His voice was groggy with sleep, quiet and muttered. “Yeah, it fuck’n sucks.” 

You can’t help but chuckle. “It does, baby, it does. But I’m here, and I ain’t going nowhere. Can’t get rid of me if you tried, Spector.”

He hums constantly, and in another moment, Marc is snoring softly. He’s so cute.

Then, he’s snoring loudly.

Why didn’t Steven and Jake snore? Made no fucking sense.

Sighing, you settle back against the wall and maneuver enough to grab your shorts without waking your sleeping, tuckered out little boyfriend. You pull out your phone, take a few cute pictures (some with flowery or silly snapchat filters) then go play Candy Crush. He needed to rest.

Mostly, because he had a long day and was so so adorable when he was sleeping even if he was loud as all goddamn hell.

But also, you still had several pieces of furniture sitting in your car and there was no way you were going to move all of them yourself.

*************

We love a reader who can take care of an anxious baby <3

Thank you so much for reading!!!! This is my first marc, or any moon knight in a few months. I MISSED HIIIIIIMMMMMMMM

My beloved one <3

MY MOON KNIGHT RETURN IS HERE!!!!!!

I got a dark reader x marc coming up IF I OULD EVER GET A GOOD KNIGHTS SLEEP follow @romana-after-dark for that

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[barcalover86]

Your mute (only talk to your younger sister), you work at Barca as a sports medicine physician. Pedri, always tries to talk to you, however you never answer back, despite that you can always write your answer down, however, you don’t like getting attach, since you have trust issues (due to past trauma, with friends and family). One day you bring your younger sister, since no one can watch her. She ends up lost, however you’d unaware, but Pedri finds her and immediately knows that that is your sister, since you guys look alike. You the realize that your sister is missing and search for her. You then tell for her all around the building until your find her with Xavi and the guys at practice, you run to her and tell her to never do that again. Once you get up you realize everyone, including Pedri are in shock for hearing you speak for the first time. Later on, Pedri tries to speak to you, however, you go silent again, but he is still determined to hear your voice.

PEDRI ONE SHOT

Summary: You don't want to speak, being afraid that you will get attached. One day, you lose your sister at your work and find it where the barca's players were training, and then Pedri hears your voice for the first time.

fluff and angst

Thank you so much for your request. Enjoy

After you left your country with your mom and little sister, Sofia, because of your abusive dad, you went to Barcelona. You loved football since you were a little child, and your dream was to work at Fc Barcelona, your favourite team. After a lot of work and a little luck, short-long story, you managed to work there as a sports medicine physician.

Not many football players were going to you when they needed help with recovery or wanted to make sure everything was alright with their muscles because you, being new there, they wouldn't trust you. They were going to your boss, who worked there for 30 years.

One day, when all began, Pedro Gonzalez, the famous footballer that everybody love, had to go to your office because your boss wasn't at work. When you first saw him, you really admired his beauty.

"Bon dia, señorita" he politely said to you while you smiled and nodded to him. You were happy that eventually someone went and asked for your help.

You showed him with your hand a chair, and he sat down. After a while of no one saying anything, he finally spoke.

"Bien, entonces tengo un problema en mi apretado. Me duele mucho cuando empiezo a correr y tengo muchas ganas de jugar el próximo partido." (Ok, so I have a problem in my tight. It hurts a lot when I start running and I really want to play the next game.)

You went to a bed near your medical stuff, and one again showed him to sit down. When he laid down, you asked with your eyes if you could touch him. He totally understood you and nodded.

He was wearing training shorts, but you had to raise them a little so that you could have enough space. He felt uncomfortable, and you noticed, pulling the shorts as down as you could so you could see the hurt muscle.

"No, está bien" he said quickly, raising the shorts again.

He had great leg muscles, and you thought that he really ran a lot in his life. You touched the hurt muscle, and he groaned loudly. Ouch, it doesn't look so good. He saw your worried face and asked what it is.

You took a piece of paper, writing down the prescription. You gave him some lotion that he had to put 2 times per day and some painkillers.

"Oh, gracias. Puedo ir a entrenar ahora?" (Can I go to training now?)

Your eyes widened.

"Que?" he asked confused.

You took hardly the paper from his hands and wrote down that he had to stay out for at least 3 weeks.

"Estás bromeando??? 3 semanas!!! No es tan malo, verdad?" (Are you kidding??? 3 weeks!!! It's not that bad, is it?) he desperately asked you.

You wanted to write down your answer, but he stopped you.

"Puedes decírmelo, lo recordaré. No necesitas escribirlo." (You can tell me, I'll remember. You don't need to write it down.)

You stopped for a second.

"Por favor, háblame" (talk to me)

You couldn't talk. Your family was the only people who knew your voice. Since your dad abused you, you started to be insecure. He used to tell you that the only thing you do is talk shit, so since then, you haven't spoken. All your friends betrayed you, so your trust was really at your lowest right now.

You turned around and showed his door to him. He looked worried and confused but didn't want to make you feel bad, so he left as you wished.

He was so confused. Why didn't you talk to him? Didn't you like him at all? Did he make you uncomfortable?

When he told his teammates about it, they were also confused.

"Ella es al menos bonita?" (Is she at least pretty?" Pablo Toree asked Pedri

Pedri only smiled at him.

"Ooo, alguien esta enamorado" teased Gavi (someone's in love).

"No, no exageres" the boy smiled at the think of you. He really find you pretty and wanted so bad to hear your voice, so the next day he went again to you.

Of course, you didn't talk. The only way to understand eachother was to write down your thoughs.

He went every day to your office for 4 weeks until he started to get better. He loved your company, and you also loved spending time with him. You showed him exercises that were helping with his recovery, and he did all the time more sets just to see your face more.

After you wrote to him that his recovery session was done, he felt sad. Of course he wanted to join the trainings with his teammates, but not having a reason to see your face was devastating his soul. He started to feel something for you. He enjoyed your company more than anyone's.

It's been 1 week since you two didn't see each other. You also felt sad because you missed him as well. Your sister was asking you for months to take her with you to your job. You finally accepted her.

When she saw where the amazing barca players were training, she started to cheer up. She was so happy that you couldn't help smiling.

"Chill, hermanita" you laughed.

"Estoy muy feliz, y/n" she said in a baby voice. She was only 12 years old, 8 years younger than you. You loved her a lot. You wanted to help her be happier than you have been when you were a child.

While you were showing Sofia the place, you received a message from your boss where he told you that he needed your help with a document and wanted you to read it and say your opinion on it until tomorrow morning. You opened the document to see some really bad injury. "Ouch" you thought. That must be really painful.

While you were looking at it, Sofia disappeared. You started to panick. You called her name and went everywhere to look out for her, but she wasn't anywhere.

After some time, you heard her laugh. You looked around to see her with Pedri, Balde, Ferran and Jordi.

"Sofi, me asustaste! Qué te he dicho? No me dejes!" you shouted at her (You scared me! What have I told you? Do not leave me!)

You didn't even realise that you spoke around the players. They all looked at Pedri, who was insistently looking at you with wide eyes. He heard your voice for the first time, and somehow, his heart melted at the touch of your voice. Even if you were angry at your sister, he absolutely loved your voice.

"Lo siento mucho y gracias!" you said and left them with your sister looking angry at her. She smiled innocently at you, and you couldn't stay mad at her. After all, she was your sister, your little sister.

All day long, pedri's teammates teased him. He couldn't stop thinking about your voice so the next day, he went to your office.

"Hola, y/n" he said being shy.

You smiled at him. Your heart was beating so fast because all night you couldn't sleep because of your thoughts. You didn't even realise that you spoke. And not only to one person, but 4!!!

He sat down in front of you. He waited for you to speak first. He waited 5 minutes until he decided to tell his thoughts.

"No sé tu vida pasada, no sé por lo que pasaste en esta vida, pero quiero saber. Quiero ser la persona a la que le dices lo que piensas. Quiero conocerte y tal vez es demasiado pronto y no quiero asustarte, pero así es como me siento. Mi corazón llama tu nombre. Tu toque es mi terapia y cuando no te veía, lloraba todas las noches. Te extrañé y hoy, cuando vi tu hermoso rostro, mi corazón explotó de felicidad. Quiero escuchar tu risa y tus gritos. Quiero gritarme solo para poder escuchar ttu voz, porque mi querido medica, estoy enamorado de tu. Eres como una música para mí." he said, almost crying. (I don't know your past life, I don't know what you went through in this life, but I want to know. I want to be the person you tell what's on your mind. I want to know you and maybe it's too soon and I don't want to scare you but that's how I feel. My heart calls your name. Your touch is my therapy, and when I didn't see you, I cried every night. I missed you, and yesterday, when I saw your beautiful face, my heart exploded with happiness. I want to hear your laughter and your screams and cries. I want you to shout at me just so I can hear your voice, because my dear doctor, I'm in love with you. You are like music to me.)

You felt getting emotionaly. You didn't know what to say, so you touched his hand. He smiled, but when you removed your hand and stayed silent, he started to tear up, his heart broking.

You were so scared to feel love. You didn't know if it existed, because of your parents. Seeing him cry in front of you, made you so sad and not even understanding why.

His hands went to his face to cover his tears. He stood up and walked to open the door to leave, until you said to him to wait.

"Esperar!"

He stopped immediately and smiled sadly at your voice. It was so beautiful.

You went to him, took his hand in yours and brought yourselfs to the couch. You kissed one of his tears and put your head on his shoulder.

He wanted to wait for you to trust him so he would do anything to make you his. Enjoying your moment now and hoping for many more in the future.

I really hope you like this. It took me some hours.

NOT MY GIF!

[oddbrainedtboy]

trying to get into writing with one of @wolfstarmicrofic's october prompts. let's see how it goes...

Prompt: Patronus

The moon was high in the sky, thankfully showing itself as a simple line among the stars, and Remus Lupin was still in the library.

It was way past supper. In fact, it was almost curfew, but the boy insisted on reading over and over again the same pages of his arithmancy book. He had NEWTs on that subject the very next day, and he refused to get a bad grade. He could not bear to see a D in his results.

But he was exhausted. His eyes felt heavy, his head hurt from the lack of food and water, and he hadn’t left the castle to enjoy the beginnings of summer in days, too busy with exams. He desperately needed a break.

As his eyes start to close and his mind to drift away, he catches a glimpse of something silver.

Rubbing his eyes to shake the sleep away and straightening his back, he got a better look at that shining thing.

It was a dog. A huge dog, almost the size of a bear, and it was standing right in front of him.

Sirius patronus’s.

“Moonyyyyyyyyy, come to bedddddddddd.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly at his boyfriend’s way to call him back.

“It's late, Moons! And you still haven't eaten! You need to eat, Moony. And sleep. Like, a lot. I know you haven’t been sleeping properly in the past days, and you need to rest baby!”

He knew his boyfriend was right, but he was still scared. What if he failed badly? What if he got a Dreadful? Oh Merlin what if he got a Troll…

“And I know you. I know you’re scared about your grade, but you’re one of the best students in that class Remus! Remember those brilliant papers you wrote that got you many Es and even Os? You know what you’re doing baby, and you’ll do great on your exam tomorrow!”

Biting the inside of his cheek and staring at the silver dog, he started debating with himself. He really didn’t want a Troll, but he was tired, the pain in his head was reaching his muscles, and he really missed his bed.

“And if that wasn’t enough to convince you, which probably wasn’t, I know you… I got your favorite chocolate and some cuddles waiting for youuuu.”

And that was all Remus needed to grab his books and run back to his dorm, heading right into the comfort of the sweet treat and his boyfriend’s arms.

word count: 417

[oboetemasuka]

Final Judgment - Beans

Well, well, @good-beans, you've finally finished Final Judgment. And now, it's time for your execution.

Hi Kyanako. I see that you titled each chapter with the character that dies. And I have to wonder. WHERE IS THE "BEANS" TITLE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Here it is now! The Beans chapter! ^_^

(If anyone has read this in advance, there are some changes here and there.)

(cw: descriptions of deaths, albeit watered down from the original "Final Judgment")

-

Beans stood in the middle of the courtroom, or what was left of it. Amidst the charred debris, the prisoners were scattered. Prisoners she was supposed to protect, who instead ended up as collateral in her attempts to strike down the bringer of chaos. Kyanako was lying at Beans's feet, desperately clutching a roll of papers that miraculously survived the blast.

Beans knelt down and pried the papers out of her hand to read them.

That was a big mistake.

Character death angst headcanon I've had for a while...

She sent that ask, didn't she? And Kyanako went through with it. With every last one of the Milgram characters.

It started with the first three. Haruka, Yuno, and Fuuta.

A seemingly painless death until the piranhas swam in.

A fall from a height, preceded by twenty-eight stab wounds.

A witch hunt- Was this not already the end? The final blow?

She wasn't sure. This could all be just a dream.

But it was Muu and Shidou's turn a month later. A shift from emotional to physical horror. A lovely rhythmic piece, and yet it

Hurt like hell

And after that was Mahiru, sweet Mahiru, ending up on the other end of her symbolism, weathering the execution through injuries that never healed, that she would never feel again.

And Kazui, standing up for those who remained to make up for those he failed to protect.

Why not stop the story here? Even with the downer ending, there was a ray of hope. A breather. There was no need for any more senseless violence.

But Beans knew all this time that it wasn't going to end there. Amane's chapter had been written out long before the rest. The massacre truly began with her. With a piece that the public might never see.

Of course, Kyanako's specialest little girl wouldn't go down without a fight, but the execution was designed to drain every last bit of hope from her. From everyone.

And Mikoto remained clueless to the end while John protected him with all his might.

And Es had no more room for regrets.

Neither did Beans.

There was one last chapter that she hadn't read. Kotoko.

For the sake of everyone, Beans had to finish reading Kyanako's harrowing story. It's what she would have wanted.

Beans took a deep breath and smoothed out the last few pages.

Kotoko would not go gently into the good night, and neither would the prisoners of Milgramblrgram. Taking down as many of the captors as possible was nothing short of expected.

But Kotoko had met her end, and there were still a few pages left.

What? What more was there to tell?

Es.

Many had speculated that Es might die at the end of Milgram. But for them to succumb and take their own life...

Beans let go of the manuscript in shock, only to realize it was lodged into her heart. She tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't budge. It was going to haunt her forever. The defender of justice in Milgramblrgram, undone by an elaborate answer to a morbid question.

She cried out in pain until she had no more breath to scream. Then she looked down at Kyanako's cold face once more and realized she was smirking. She always had been.

[veranda-larkspur]

Wait you write for alter ego????!!!!! Can you do just any headcannons you have for Es I don’t care what they are I just need alter ego content aaaaaaa

Sorry, I’m not usually like this but pretty lady…. Fhhcssdgkcufxrys

Please take all the time you need, and feel free to ignore my request if for whatever reason you’re uncomfortable with it. Have a great day!!

I am so sorry I didn't answer sooner, I just got my ass kicked with school and the all-consuming apathy. But pog, es is here to help me <3 I decided to write a little thing for Es with an S/O who is a writer! I hope you like it!

You are a godsend to Es and she can't even hide it if she tries.

She's read so many books countless times, but eventually they all become boring. Become as dull as the room she's stuck in.

She begins to realize that they all follow the same tropes. And while she likes them, they've become stale and repetitive.

But then she sees a couple sheets of paper stapled together and she reads what can only be described as an unfinished story.

She asks you about it when you return.

When you eventually tell her that "yes that's mine." She looks so... in awe? Like your amazing?

She asks for the rest.

She's intrigued, and how can you say no? Especially to Es.

The answer is you cant

So as you write, she'll become your first reader for any and all books or short stories.

Also she likes being a second pair of eyes as well as an editor. She's really good at English and Grammer.

Sometimes she gets into one of her..."episodes"

This is where she feels like she's going insane again, and needs you by her side.

Tell her short but calming stories, she'll get a hold on herself soon.

To summarize, Es cares for you dearly, and she needs your creative mind by her side.

With all those twists and turns of yours, she can't help but want to read more, trying desperately to read more into your mind.

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 192 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: mowing the lawn.

MARTIN: "Wait, seriously? I thought you had this whole ‘invisibility cloak’ thing going on?" GEORGIE: "Sure, but I’m not exactly keen to test it against the eyeball tower guardians. I don’t know the limits of our ‘invisibility’, and it seems pretty dumb to saunter up and hope it works on them." That's fair. Considering she just threw a pebble at them and they reacted. I'm sure that pebble stone also doesn't feel fear, which means they still very much react to other stimuli like sound, touch maybe etc.

JON: "And tell Melanie… Tell her I’m sorry." GEORGIE: "That’s… not what she wants to hear from you." JON: "Well, then… what does she want?" GEORGIE: "I don’t know. But… it’s not going to be another apology." Uhhh, I'm also at a loss here, what would be the appropriate thing to say? Way I see it, they don't really have anything left to say to each other...

GEORGIE: "Anything you’ve got to say to me, that can wait too." So, and in case he doesn't come back? I just don't understand these two girls anymore...

MARTIN: [Wearily] "Ah, sure. Lead on, Macduff." JON: "It’s, uh, “Lay on –”" MARTIN: [Frustrated] "Sh– I know, I know! I know. Go. Just go." Hahaha, theater kid...

JON: "I insist." [ROSIE SIGHS] ROSIE: [Softly] "Your funeral…" And yours, Rosie. Big Boss won't come out an yell at Jon, he'll yell at Rosie (as far as he is able to right now... Or, if this was pre-Change). That's the thing about being front desk. You're just the person everybody gets to yell at. God I hated that shit...

ROSIE: "Yes I – Yes, I-I understand, I jus– I – Sorry to interrupt." See? What did I say...

Nosy Rosie... Of course she's Eye-aligned...

Oh god, I hate job interviews. I hate being put on the spot, hate stupid questions, or the questions that are none of their business...

"'So why do you want this job, Ms. Zampano?' ‘Because I need money to live, you pompous ass,’ she didn’t answer." Yeah, stupid questions like this! Oh, because sitting at a desk doing paper crap while being on display to get yelled at by everyone is my goal in life! Sure, idiots...

"They weren’t actually Cockney, she knew that for certain. They might as well have been asking to take that table up the ‘apples and pears’." Oh, that one of these cockney slang things, like dog and bone? Do people actually say things like that? I actually do not have any British friends, I don't know which phrases are actually used in the UK and what isn't... Like raining cats and dogs? Do British McDonald’s say "chips" instead of "french fries"? The name we call fries in Austria has actually changed since I was a child. We used to call them Pommes Frites ("Pomm Free-ts", I guess it's French? I'm a total dummy when it comes to French, but “french” fries...), but now everyone says "Pommes", so we do now actually say the silent "es". ... Okay, I now googled UK McDonald's and it says fries? xDD 

"‘Jonathan Sims’, the name read. She knew him. Well, knew of him, the things they said about him in the break room, the sort of things that passed across Mr. Bouchard’s desk about him." [...] "Sims was different. He was insecure, aggressive, desperate to be taken seriously. Of course, having seen his file, Rosie kind of understood. Why on earth Mr. Bouchard had given him the job at all was a mystery to her, but it didn’t make it any easier to talk to him." That is so Eye of the Eye (does that make sense? xD). To feed Jon what people thought about him...

"She still smiles, though. Just in case." God, that gets me...

It is really cool to see all these events through the eyes (heh) of someone else, someone in the periphery.

"Behind his desk, without missing a beat of his conversation, Elias caught her eye, and suddenly she was a child again, creeping towards the rotten board in her parents’ attic, burning to know what lurked behind it, [FLOORBOARD CREAKS WARNINGLY] unsuspecting of the squirming nest of half-dead insect bodies she was about to reveal. [INSECTILE AND SQUIRMING NOISES] Then she was back in the office. Mr. Bouchard was still smiling." Hehehe, Elias doing his memory insertion thing...

"What if he got angry? She couldn’t afford to lose this job. She couldn’t." I am, fortunately, in a very privileged position of being almost unable to be fired, but I'm the same... Afraid the boss will get angry. She can't fire me, but she can make work a living nightmare for me. And she knows it. And she knows that I know.

"but… what if it made Mr. Bouchard angry? Why did the thought of that terrify her so?" Yeah that. Rosie's statement got me a lot more than that of MAG 188, which did sound very much like a social anxiety statement.

"She was working for evil. Not someone misguided, not selfish, but truly evil. And she knew she was going to sit there and ignore that fact. She knew the sort of information he had on everyone, and now she knew what he was capable of, what he might do if he thought Rosie might be a threat." Capitalism is the enemy!!!11

"People have come to see Elias. No. Not people. Not anymore." Ouch... (Thinking of Jon and Martin here because she wondered about helping them.)

"Where else could she have gone? Mr. Lukas was dead. Mr. Bouchard was missing. So many friends and colleagues dead. The violence, the gunshots. The old man and his… daughter? Their murderous joy. She couldn’t stop thinking about their faces. How they had looked right past her as they ran through the building." Rosie should get a good therapist when all this is over... And uh... this of course requires a therapist, who can do their job... Like post Change doesn't sound like fun for anyone...

MARTIN: "Oi! Dickhead! Come down here so we can kick your arse!" I'm so proud of you, Martin! xD

MARTIN: "Yeah I got that. What’s wrong with him?" JON: "Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with him. He’s the pupil of The Eye." MARTIN: "Meaning?" JON: "He won." Hmm. I thought it was clear that he won as soon as he got his Eyepocalype? xD What they think he’s doing? Sitting in a corner all sad while listening to Caramelldansen?

@a-mag-a-day

[bombuni]

hi hi! what’re ur thoughts on needy mingi? i’m thinking he’s a whiner ^^

contains: nsfw, needy!dom!mingi, sub!fem!reader

minors dni

ofc he isss he’s a leo he wants all the attention on him<33

I think Mingi is totally whiny when he’s needy, not letting you step away from him for 5 seconds.

I don’t think he’s necessarily a sub, but he’ll play into it for you and beg if you’re being bratty and not letting him touch you.

“Pretty baby,” he pouts as you swat his hand away for the 3rd time in the past 10 minutes, “why are you being like this?

You scoot away from him, laptop shifting along with you. His frown deepens and his arms cross and you can’t help but giggle because he’s unbearably cute, “I need to focus on work stuff, Min. Can’t have you distracting me,”

His frown is replaced by a playful smirk, leaning into your ear and hovering over you. He likes making you feel small, “‘Cause we both know how distracted you get with me, huh?”

Your typing stops, his breath hot on your cheek stirring something familiar deep inside you. He’s smirking right beside you with a knowing look in his eye. Mingi knows how to play you like a fiddle, unfortunately for you.

You don’t say anything, much to his dismay, and return to typing.

So, Mingi resorts to plan B. If you’re too busy to play with him, he’ll play with you instead. He sits for a moment, letting you believe that you’ve won and defeated him for a few minutes before sliding down the couch and in between your legs.

He bullies his way into you, jostling your laptop and important papers thrown haphazardly. You stop his big hands-which are already halfway through slipping your shorts off of your sides-and stare at him with the most resolve you can muster.

“Min. I have deadlines.”

Because it’s Mingi and because he knows every single one of your weak spots, he stares up at you with pouty lips and his best puppy dog eyes you’ve seen yet.

You don’t want to admit to the gush of wetness that came from just seeing him on his knees and begging for you out loud, so instead of saying anything you help him slip your shorts off.

He giggles, leaning up to kiss the shame off your face. “You’re gonna let me use you?”

He’s not letting you off that easy. Mingi waits for your voice to sound out, all the while sucking on your neck to satiate himself.

You’re too distracted by his possessive lips, so when he hears no answer he runs his big hands up and under your shirt, kneading your tits as if they’re his own personal toys. “Come on, baby, answer me,” he whines out.

He’s desperate to hear your approval, to hear you just as broken as him. He needs you to answer him.

Mingi knows exactly how to make you melt under him, how to make you his over and over again. “Ye-es you can use me, Min,” you breathe out.

He smiles into your neck, giddy at how you’re already putty in his hands. He rewards your answer by sliding a long finger into you. Slowly and languidly, taking his time to tease you and break you some more.

“I’m gonna take care of you, okay, baby? Just let me fuck the shit out of you first,”

You don’t meet your deadlines <3



[layniapetrovnaaa]

“No boys”

 Request: @soytrash

Hey beautiful 🤍 how about a cute little moment between reader and Logan with Laura regarding a crush 🥺And Logan is just overprotective, but prior to Laura coming home from school and talking about a crush, Logan is trying to get some from reader 🥵 please and thank you hun let me know if that’s okay or not 🥰 (maybe with the baby from your family series too) sorry if it’s too much I love your writing 🥺🤍 

Warnings: Smut, swearing (if you squint).

A/n: Do you guys picture yourself when reading fanfiction? Cause I do and don’t haha. Typically when I read/write for Logan I picture myself as Scarlett Johansson in Match Point and The Island lol. I’d love to hear about you guys, so just let me know!

Reader is written as under 30 y/o, if you are older, just change the number :)

I hope this is good enough (I’m not really that confident in this one). Let me know if you have any constructive criticism. 

[The Howlett Family series] 

It was a particularly warm day in the Canadian Rockies, warm enough to open a few windows and have the cozy log house smelling of the fresh outdoor air. the window above the sink that you were currently standing at let a breeze into the house that tickled you just enough to have your body bear a small chill. 

As you rinsed one of the bowls you had used this morning to prepare breakfast, your hips swayed side to side in a fluid manor that matched the rhythm of the song that lightly boomed out of the speaker which sat by the fruit bowl on the counter. The reason behind the low volume was that Logan was currently trying to put your youngest daughter down for her daily afternoon nap. If the wails and grumbling coming from the baby monitor was any indication, it wasn't going very well.

You dried off your hands and picked up the monitor, holding down on the button that allowed your voice to come through on the other end.

“You need some help?”

“We’re fine. I just cant find her goddamn pacifier.”

“Did you check on the shelf by her changing table?” you spoke again.

Suddenly the crying stops and you smile knowing he found it.

He lets out a quiet “Thanks.”

You set the monitor back down and go back the the half a dozen dishes left in the sink.

“Kid’s quite the screamer hm?” you announce as Logan walks out from the hallway a few minutes later.

“Yeah she is, I think she got it from her mother.” he jokes walking around the island to be closer to you.

You let out a breathy gasp like-laugh.

“Oh really?” you say in an exaggerated tone, humor still consuming it.

“Mhm, and speaking  of screaming...” he places his hands on your waist and squeezes a bit.

“We can’t baby, Laura's gunna be home in like ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes is enough time. I can’t help it, you just look so sexy--”

Before he can finish you interrupt.

“Logan, you know damn well ten minutes isn't enough time.”

“I just need something [Y/N].” he says as his hands find your breasts and you let out a small moan, abandoning the dish towel and griping the counter.

He kisses your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft flesh, which brings forth light breathy moans from your mouth.

You turn your head to kiss him and you can feel yourself throb a bit when your lips meet. his hands dip into your top and pull your breast out of their confines, teasing your nipples with his fingers.

He continues to grope and kiss you as his dominant hand makes its way into your pants.

You moan loudly into his mouth as the pad of his middle finger circles your clit a few times.

His lips separate from yours so he can speak.

“Hmm, You like that?” he says in his breathy and gruff voice.

You can’t seem to make out any words, so instead you offer an almost whiny sounding “Mhm.” as his fingers inch lower.

You gasp, throwing your head back onto his shoulder, your right hand coming up to hold the back of his neck, as his middle and ring fingers enter your tight lubricated hole.His fingers curling in the classic “come hither” position, making you squeeze around his digits.

Even after all of the time you had spent with Logan, your body still didn't know how to handle the pleasure, that being evident in the way that your back arched and you sporadically bucked your hips back into his crotch with every jolt of pleasure that you felt.

Your moans were absolutely erotic as he seemed to push further into you, finding that spot that did in fact make you scream.

And the explicit squelching noises were making you even more desperate as he fucks you with his fingers.

As you let out another slew of loud moans, you feel his hand come up to cover your mouth.

“As much as I love hearing those pretty noises you make, baby, you gotta be quiet.”

Your eyes rolled back and fluttered shut at his his words and the vibrations from your moans bouncing against his cupped hand.

His thumb starts to circle your clit in the same rhythm that his fingers were moving in.

God, you were so done for.

He releases his hand from over your mouth before he asks:

“You gunna cum?”

“Mhmm” you let out in high pitched whine.

“Ouh! Don’t stop.” you pleaded as that marvelous feeling started to take over.

“That’s right baby, jus like that.” he speaks, egging you on until your mouth falls open and your eyes squeeze shut, your orgasmic euphoria taking over.

Eventually your body comes back down to earth.

“Look at that, you got three minutes to spare.” he coos in a triumphant tone.

Your breath is heavy and you whimper slightly when he pulls his fingers out of you.

You glance over to the built in clock in the stove before readjusting yourself and catching your breath.

Turning around, you plant your hands on the space where his shoulders and neck connect, and kiss him. Your tongues danced together sensually until you pulled away.

“I wish I could return the favor...” you hum and he kisses you again.

“You will later.” he says as the screeching of the school bus tires alerts you of Laura’s homecoming.

You look up at him and bite your lip, giving him a sensual smile as you nod.

You separate from him as you hear the front door open, going over to greet Laura.

“Hey honey, how was school?”

You could hear Logan in the kitchen, chuckling at your total change in demeanor. 

You turn slightly to roll your eyes at him, but the small amused smirk on your face gives you away.

You turn back to your daughter as she answers you while getting her homework and lunchbox out of her backpack.

“It was alright. We got to watch a movie in my english class, so that was  nice.”

You follow her to the kitchen where she sits at one of the bar stools at the dark wood island, slapping her purple folder and pencil onto the table.

You noticed something off with the young mutant, like she wasn’t telling you something.

When she looked up to see you and Logan analyzing her, she knew she would have to put on a better performance if she wanted to keep her secret. Fortunately for you, she wasn’t feeling up for a challenge today. And it’s not that she wanted to hide what her friends had told her was called a “crush”, but she knew how her parents would probably react.

“Laura, is there something you need to tell us?” Logan spoke.

“Sweetheart, you know you can tell us anything, right?” you squeeze her shoulder in a loving manor.  

She nods, taking in a breath before turning to you and muttering: No puedes decírselo a papá... (You can’t tell daddy...)

Hearing this concerned you. Laura and Logan had a pretty open relationship, despite their constant bickering.

Your eyes quickly flick over to Logan, who was watching you and Laura, his arms crossed while he leans against the kitchen counter.

“Que es Laura?”

Logan was accustom to yours and Laura’s more private conversations you had in spanish. He wasn't really a fan, only because when they would occur, he felt left out. But, he figured this must be important and waited patiently before asking you what she had just said about him.

“Hay un chico en mi clase que está enamorado de mí.” (There is this boy in my class who is in love with me). Her voice is quiet, but her tone sounds exasperated.

Logan's brows furrowed when he heard “un chico”. He didn't know much spanish, but he did know that un chico meant a boy, and he did not like the sound of that.

You snort, your hand quickly flying up to cover your mouth before you speak.

“Aww Laura!”

A shy grin spreads across her face.

“What did she say?” Logan speaks up

You bite your lip, trying to hold in your small bit of laughter. You look over at Laura and can tell that, although she is nervous for what her fathers reaction may be, it would be best to tell him about her dilemma.

“Laura has a not so secret admirer.”

“He wrote me a note.” she says, grabbing a crinkled white paper from her pocket.

You could tell by her humorous tone that she found the situation comical, and didn't seem to reciprocate the feelings.

Logan on the other hand had immediately gone into full protective father mode, snatching the note from her hand, and reading over it to make sure nothing obscene had been written/drawn on it.

After he is finished looking at it he crumples it up and puts it in the garbage.

“No boys until you are 30.”

“Logan don’t be ridiculous.” you say, walking over to fish the note out of the can.

“I am not being ridiculous.” he scoffs, incredulously.

“In fact, I think I’m being a bit lenient. 30 years old is a perfectly reasonable age to start being romantic with someone.” he says, and now it was your turn to scoff as you hand the paper to Laura.

She makes a disgusted face and holds the very corner with her pointer finger and thumb. You couldn't tell if it was because it had been in the trash, or because of it’s contents.

You turn back to face Logan and cross your arms.

“You do realize that we’ve had a baby together and I’m not yet 30, right?”

He retracts slightly, and grumbles:

“That’s different.”

“Uh-huh” you reply sarcastically.

“The feelings are not mutual by the way.” Laura finally speaks up. Deciding to clear the air before an argument started brewing.

“I don’t have a crush on him.”

“That’s my girl.” Logan says, and you chuckle.

“That conversation is not finished by the way.” you say while you walk over to the pantry to get Laura a snack, Logan grimaces, thinking of the conversation that would come later.

“Daddy?”

“Hmm?”

“How did you and Mama end up together?”

“Uhh, well...” he starts, glancing up at you, not sure if it was the right time to share.

Yours and Logan’s story was a bit controversial. The reason being that you were only 19 when you first “got together”, and Logan was your ex-teacher. And it wasn't exactly the most orthodox either. Instead of the typical flowers and a dinner date, it was more like neither of you could sleep one night, and one thing led to another, which led to you waking up in his arms in the morning. You had always had romantic feelings towards The Wolverine. Though they were never truly discussed, you both knew they were there, and you knew they were unbreakable. So, after that night, you two became exclusive.

“We met at Charles’ school, you know that.” you speak, setting the packet of crackers in front of the pre-teen, and walking over to grab an apple to cut up for her.

Laura sighs, knowing that she probably wouldn't get the answer she was looking for if you weren't willing to share it.

She rips open the wrapper, glaring at Logan when he steals a cracker from her.

“Well, how did you know you had a crush on each other?”

You chuckle lightly as the knife cuts into the ripe and scarlet colored fruit.

“We didn’t exactly have a crush on each other, Laura.” Logan starts, but a dry cough finishes the sentence.

You look up at him, asking if he was alright with your eyes.

He gives you a blunt nod as he lets out a deep breath.

You notice your daughters furrowed brow as she munches on the biscuit, and elaborate on Logan’s previous statement.

“Your father and I’s relationship is a bit complicated and unconventional, Laura. What he was saying was that we have and had a connection on a level so much more than a crush.”

She nods and pops another cracker in her mouth.

“But,” the crisp sound of the apple interrupts you slightly.

“usually when you have a crush on someone, you get the feelings of butterflies in your stomach whenever you see or think about that person. You smile when they smile, and laugh when they laugh. You want to be around them all the time, and you try to get their attention. You sometimes get nervous, and jealous of others that are close to them.”

You place the apple slices on a plate and slide it over to her, cleaning up the slight mess you had made and you glance over at her.

Laura sat starring at the plate as she thought of all of her symptoms you had just listed.

“Why were you asking?” Logan asks, his voice stern and suspicious.

She looks up, once again nervous.

You smile, getting an inkling as to where this is going.

“Well, there’s this-”

“No Laura. No boys, remember?” Logan interrupts, his custodial protectiveness resurfacing.

“It’s not a boy.” she mutters.

Logan blinks a few times, looking over to your grinning face.

“It’s a girl?” he asks, making sure that he wasn’t getting mixed up at all.

Laura looks up from the oxidizing apples a second time and nods.

“Well,” he leans back in his seat, breathing out.

“Tell me ‘bout her.”

She grins and you smile back, lovingly.

And then she doesn’t stop talking about the girl with the dark umber skin and curly caramel highlights until you have to remind her to eat her apple slices.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 19

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

While at first the days and nights that Mulder is away on a case feel lonely, she soon comes to appreciate the time to herself. She reads more, watches the rom-coms that he despises, has one-sided conversations with Priscilla, and gives her vibrator, long since relegated to the back of her bedside drawer, a second lease on life. When Mulder is home he’s more animated and energetic, their sex exciting and passionate. The things she loves best about him magnified, but also some of the worst. There have been a few nights he’s missed dinner without so much as a phone call, and her worry quickly gave way to irritation when he waltzed in the door raving about secret storage facilities hidden in mountains. They create new routines, new boundaries and expectations, and as time wears on, they adjust. He’ll call if he’s going to miss dinner, and she won’t guilt trip him when unexpected cases ruin their plans.

The day before Thanksgiving, he gets a tip from one of his sources about a UFO crash site in Utah and books himself and Monica tickets for that night. Scully questions whether he’s going to miss Thanksgiving dinner at her mother’s and he grimaces, saying he hopes to be back but as usual, can’t make any promises.

The last she hears from him is around 8:00 am on Thanksgiving day when he asks her to send his regrets to her mom. She tries to keep the disappointment out of her voice as she promises to pack up some leftovers for him to have when he gets home. When he hasn’t called by Friday afternoon, she’s a little bit worried. By Friday night, she’s panicking.

Not knowing what else to do, she goes to the Gunmen’s, using her own special knock that spells out “doc” in Morse code.

“Hey, Sis, are you okay?” Missy greets her with a worried frown, now an honorary fourth member of the trio.

“I haven’t heard from Mulder in over twenty four hours,” she answers, breezing past Missy and into the tech room. “I need you to find him for me.”

The Gunmen work their magic while Missy pours her drink after drink. They track his flight into Salt Lake City and then ping his cell phone just outside Provo around 8:00 pm Thursday night. After that, nothing.

“What do you know about the case he was investigating?” Byers asks, perched behind a computer with Missy’s arms draped over his shoulders, her chin resting on his head.

Scully rubs her hands over her face in frustration. “Nothing, other than an alleged UFO crash site. He didn’t give me any other information.”

“What about his partner, Agent Reyes?” Langly asks, “do you have any way to get ahold of her?”

“I’ve tried her cell a hundred times, it’s off,” Scully replies, feeling tears coming up again.

“Does she have a family, someone else you could contact to see if she’s been in touch?” Byers adds.

“She has a partner, Dahlia,” Scully explains, “but I don’t know her last name to look up her number. I’m sure it’s in Monica’s file as her emergency contact, but the whole Hoover Building is shut down for the holiday. I know that her first name is Dahlia, she works at a flower shop in Alexandria, and they live in Palisades. That’s it.”

“Well we can work with that, why don’t you go home and get some rest?” Frohike offers, resting his hand on her shoulder.

She shakes her head, quiet tears slipping down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be alone,” she whispers, her voice small and afraid.

“I’ll come with you, Sis,” Missy says, replacing Frohike behind Scully and wrapping her arms around her sister’s shoulders.

After Missy has gathered her things and kissed Byers goodbye, she drives Scully’s car back to her apartment and plies her with more alcohol. They hold hands as they sleep, Scully’s dreams plagued by visions of Mulder detained, hurt, or worst of all, dead. If she’d had any idea that having the X files reopened would put his life at risk, she never would have entertained the idea.

Please come home, she begs God, the universe, Mulder himself if he’s somewhere listening. Please be okay.

The phone shrieks and she sits up abruptly, her head spinning. Early dawn light is just beginning to seep into the room and she feels like she hasn’t slept at all.

“Mulder?!” she blurts out, a thousand prayers on the tip of her tongue.

“No, it’s Langly, sorry. We got a number for Agent Reyes’ partner.”

Missy is now awake, and scrambles to the hallway to get a pen and paper so Scully can write down Dahlia Vidales’ phone number.

“Thank you Langly, bye,” she says and hangs up without waiting for a response. She dials Dahlia’s number with shaky hands, repeating please please please in her head over and over.

“¿Hola?” says a creaky voice, and Scully glances at the clock to see that it’s only 6:00 am.

“Dahlia?” she asks desperately, her head feeling thick and muddy.

“¿Si, Quién es?”

“This is Dana Scully, have you heard from Monica recently?” Her throat feels thick and dry, her ears ringing in protest of what they might hear.

“Oh, Hi Dana. Yes, I spoke to her last night around ten pm.”

She lets out a shaky breath, feeling a wave of relief.

“Was Mulder with her?” she questions, her jaw quivering.

“Si, she said their cell phones were confiscated and they had stopped at a diner to get something to eat. She called me from a payphone. Is everything okay, Dana?”

She’s shaking, her body suddenly freezing even under her down comforter. The tension she’s been holding for the last two days erupts in a wave of tremors and she starts sobbing.

“Did she say when they’ll be home?” she forces out around her tears.

“They were hoping to get a flight this morning, so sometime today, should be.”

“Thank you, Dahlia. Sorry to wake you,” she says, and hangs up.

Missy holds her as she shakes uncontrollably, her head aching as her racking sobs jostle her dehydrated brain. Missy runs her a hot bath and after some ibuprofen, two big glasses of water, a set of warm clothes and a hot meal, she feels physically much better.

Mentally, she has shifted from worry, fear, and despair to white hot rage. When he walks in that door, she is going to kill him.

———

“Later, Reyes, sorry to hijack your Thanksgiving,” he says with a regretful smile as Monica slides into a cab. He grabs the next one, chucking his duffel bag into the trunk and slumping into the back seat with an exhausted sigh.

It’s been a long few days. They’d located the crash site and even got a little peek at it from behind a utility shed, but soon after they were loaded up in a paddy wagon and interrogated for six hours in a place that was definitely not a police station. When they were finally released, it was without their cell phones, though the suits were kind enough to let them keep their FBI badges.

He needs a shower and a shave, and a good night's sleep. He hopes Scully has gone grocery shopping, and if he's really lucky, there will still be Thanksgiving leftovers. He’d tried calling her from the terminal but she hadn’t answered. At least he has a full day off tomorrow before getting back to the daily grind on Monday.

The cab drops him off outside Scully’s apartment building and he tosses some money over the seat before retrieving his bag. Once inside, he’s fitting his key into the lock when the door swings open and he finds Melissa on the other side.

“Oh, hey Missy,” he says with a touch of surprise.

“I was just leaving,” she replies with an icy stare, and he wonders if something is up with her and Byers.

“Okay, see ya,” he says as she brushes past him and down the hall.

The apartment is dim, a fire crackling in the fireplace the only source of light.

“Scully?” he calls out as Priscilla trots up to him, rubbing her flank against his leg. He picks her up and scratches under her chin, letting her rub her cheek against his two-day stubble.

“I’m here,” Scully says flatly, and he realizes she’s lying on the couch.

He picks up his bag and walks it to the bedroom, dropping it on the floor and discarding his suit jacket on the bed. Returning to the living room, he leans down to kiss her on the cheek and then stands between the fire and the couch, facing her.

“Did you have plans for dinner?” he asks, “I’m starving.”

She scoffs, but he can’t make out her face in the dim light.

“Make your own fucking dinner,” she spits at him, and he physically recoils. Scully very rarely swears, so when she does, it means something.

“Whoa,” he says with a concerned tone, “What’s going on with you?”

“What’s going on with me?” she repeats, moving to sit up. “What’s going on with me? Hmm, let’s see,” she continues, her voice shifting to angry sarcasm. “Perhaps, Mulder, what’s going on with me is that my boyfriend skipped town just in time to miss Thanksgiving dinner with my family and I had to answer questions all night about where he was. Or maybe,” she says as she leans over and snaps on the lamp on the end table, illuminating her face. Her eyes are red and puffy, pronounced bags resting underneath them. “Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t heard from you in over fifty hours, not a single phone call, or email, nothing. Maybe what’s going on with me, Mulder, is that I have barely slept in two days.” She stands, moving towards him, her voice rising in volume and her bottom lip quivering. “Maybe what’s going on with me is that I thought you were fucking dead, and I had to track down Dahlia to learn that not only were you alive and well, but you were also perfectly capable of calling me, but simply chose not to. MAYBE that is what is going on with me, Mulder!”

He stands there shell-shocked as she pushes past him, slamming the bedroom door shut as wails of agony erupt from the other side. Priscilla jumps up on to the coffee table and quirks her head at him with a meow.

“I have no idea,” he says to the cat.

He cautiously opens the bedroom door and finds Scully sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, a wad of tissues in her hand and tears streaking her face. She looks up at him with a wounded expression that he’s never seen before, and would never like to again

“I’m sorry, Scully, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” he says softly, approaching her.

She gives him an incredulous look.

“How the hell would I not worry if I hear nothing from you for two days, Mulder? What was I supposed to think? And why didn’t you call me?”

“They took my phone, Scully,” he offers, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“What about the phone in your hotel room, Mulder? Or a pay phone, or a goddamn stranger’s phone. Your cell phone is not the only device available for you to contact me with.”

He’s starting to feel like he’s being lectured by his mother for staying out past curfew.

“Okay, Jesus, I get it. I’ll try to call next time,” he says with an irritated tone.

“You’ll try?” Scully asks him, the anger taking center stage again.

He shrugs. “Shit happens, Scully. You don’t know what it’s like out in the field. Sometimes you don’t have access to a phone, or you’re running down a lead and just can’t waste the time to make a call.”

The shift in her demeanor tells him that was the wrong thing to say.

“Waste the time?” she asks in a tight whisper. “Calling me so I know you’re okay is a waste of your time?”

“God, no, Scully, that’s not what I meant. You’re twisting my words around. Look, I’m exhausted, I’ve barely gotten any sleep, can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“YOU’VE barely gotten any sleep?!” she screams, then stands and walks towards him. Even with the ten inches he has on her, she looks larger than life, imposing, and scary. “I have been lying awake crying for two days worried about you!” she shouts up at him. “Get the fuck out of my apartment!”

He’s dumbstruck. He can’t remember the last time she referred to it as her apartment instead of theirs.

“Scully, you can’t be serious, all my stuff is he-”

“I said get OUT!” She cuts him off. She picks up his bag and walks it to the front door, tossing it into the hallway.

He walks slowly towards the door, waiting for her to say she doesn’t mean it, that they should get some sleep and talk about this in the morning. She stands beside the open door, her chest heaving and her jaw set, eyes focused on some far-away point but most certainly not on him. He steps into the hallway, opening his mouth to speak, and she slams the door in his face.

He hears the thunk of the deadbolt, and the sound strikes him as similar to the final nail in a coffin.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Corazon (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1.2K Premise: When Ethan meets her mother and sister for the first time, they accidentally embarrass her by remembering the crush she used to have on him.

A/N: Happy birthday @aestheticartsx!

A/N 2: Spanish translations provided :)

Lilac tried her best to remain professional as she spoke to Marlene at the nurse's station. That was a nearly impossible feat, it turned out, when she felt the intensity of blue eyes admiring her from afar. As Marlene hurried off, Lilac's eyes met Ethan's, a fierce, hot blush raging on her cheeks. 

As if that roguish half smile, reserved only for her, wasn't enough, those lush lips she longed to kiss mouthed something. The words could have easily been I love you or I want you. Either way, her balance was compromised and her heart skipped a beat. 

If they were trying to keep their relationship quiet, they were doing an awful job. Lilac was certain anyone walking by could plainly see the desperate longing pulsing between them. 

“Doctora?” 

The words startled her from her thoughts. Lilac turned, expecting to see a patient who needed care in her native language, but instead, she was surprised to see the beautiful, smiling face of her mother. 

“Mom?” 

Lilac had no time to process anything else because she found herself in a tight embrace, her mother's perfume hitting her with a sense of comfort and nostalgia. 

“Long time no see, Doc,” another voice said when they broke apart. 

Her eldest sister, Laurel, stood a few paces behind her mother, grinning broadly at her. Lilac almost shrieked with delight before hugging her sister too. 

“What are you two doing here? Why didn't you tell me you arrived in Boston?” 

“We moved our trip up so we could surprise you. How have you been, corazón?” 

“I've been great,” she responded, her cheeks stinging from smiling so broadly. “Where's Dad?” 

“He's arriving with your brother in a few days as planned.” Her mother eyed her shrewdly with those eyes Lilac had inherited. The only difference was the lines decorating her mother's and the spectacles she wore. “You look tired, mi vida. Are you getting enough sleep?” 

Lilac waved her hand dismissively. “The usual.”

Her mother and sister exchanged an uneasy, panicked look. Laurel had the good sense to mask it mere seconds later, no doubt for Lilac's sake, but it was far from successful. Neither her mother nor her sister had forgotten the attack and how close Lilac had been to death, even if it had been six months ago. The way their faces drained of color was evidence enough. Even more proof was the mere fact that they had put their lives on pause to fly across the country to see her, as though hearing on the phone that she was fine over and over again was not enough. 

Lilac suppressed a sigh, her chest feeling heavy with guilt. She imagined the same worried exchange would happen between her dad and her brother when they did arrive. 

“So none?” her sister quipped, an obvious attempt to dispel the thick veil of tension between the three. 

It worked. Both Allende sisters laughed, which earned them a disapproving look from their mother. Before Lilac could get the usual lecture about getting more rest, Laurel interjected. “We're here to take you to lunch. Can you get away?” 

“Sure, let me just tell my boss I am stepping out.”

Lilac turned to where Ethan still stood, well within earshot. At first glance it appeared he wasn't listening, his attention on the chart in his hand, but Lilac knew better. Something in the way his eyes flickered away from the paper every so often and the way he tilted his body told her he was listening to them. After all, she had learned observation from the best. 

“That's your boss?” Laurel asked, following Lilac's line of sight and gaping. “Holy shit.”

The last time they were at Edenbrook they had been too worried about Lilac's wellbeing that no introductions were made. 

“Shut up,” Lilac muttered between gritted teeth. From where she stood, he could see the slight quirk of his lips. 

“Esta guapísimo, hija,” her mother added, also openly stating. He's so handsome, daughter. 

“Mom.” 

Mrs. Allende seemed to piece something together because she let out a small gasp. “He's the same one you've talked so much about, isn't he?” 

Laurel all but cackled as she realized the truth of her mother's statement. “The same one you had your little crush on when you started here?” 

“I didn't—” 

“Ah, yes. The grumpy, handsome one you spent hours talking to me about on the phone.”

They held the entirety of this conversation in Spanish, perhaps assuming the subject of their remarks would not understand even if he heard. 

“You were right, mi amor, he's extremely handsome and sexy.”

Lilac wanted to die on the spot. Even if they spoke in their native language, the word sexy was the same in both. Also, her boyfriend was fluid in many languages, Spanish included. Her only hope was that he hadn't heard. 

She braved a glance in his direction, only to see him approaching. Face burning, she forced herself to maintain eye contact but she was mortified to find poorly veiled amusement there. 

“Dr. Ramsey, I am stepping out for lunch,” she blurted before he could say anything. 

The easy, charming smile he responded with was too taunting for her liking. 

“Sounds good, Dr. Allende. Enjoy.” His eyes fell on her mother and sister, both gawking openly at him. 

Yes, Lilac wished the linoleum floor would swallow her whole. 

“Doctor, this is my mother, Margo Allende, and my sister, Laurel,” she murmured to Ethan. “Mom, Laurel, this is my attending, Dr. Ethan Ramsey.”

“Señora, es un placer,”* Ethan said with flawless intonation. He stepped forward to shake Mrs. Allende's hand. 

Lilac's mother blinked, recovered, and shook his hand fervently, not without casting an impressed look at her daughter. 

“El placer es mío, doctor,”** she returned. 

Ethan, charming as ever, exchanged pleasantries with her family entirely in Spanish. By the time Lilac reminded them about lunch, they almost seemed disappointed to part ways. 

They agreed to wait in the lobby while Lilac finished up in the office. When at last she was alone with Ethan, he laughed, no doubt at the violent flush of her cheeks. 

“So,” he started casually. 

“Don't.”

“You had a crush on me?” 

Lilac rolled her eyes, aware of how unconvincing the small gesture must be. “You're dreaming.” 

“You can tell me. We sleep together.” He whispered the last part against her ear, his chest now pressed against her back, arms encircling her.

“I knew you were eavesdropping.”

“You thought I was handsome and sexy,” he continued with a soft chuckle. 

“I didn't—” she returned defensively. Her body burned, partly from blushing but also because of his strong hands on her hips. “Do I look like I use the word 'sexy'?” 

“You used it the other morning to describe me bringing you breakfast in bed.” 

“Well, I take it back.”

Ethan laughed and spun her around. He placed a loving kiss to her nose. “It's cute when you're flustered,” he informed her. “Have fun at lunch with them.”

Lilac paused, turning to face him. “You should join us.”

He responded by casting her an uncertain look. 

“We can tell them. They already adore you.”

The adoring smile that broke across his face made her stomach flutter with butterflies. He kissed her forehead in his customary way. 

“Just,” she started, scrunching her face. “No more embarrassing conversations about my early infatuation with you.”

“No promises, Rookie.”

_________

Translation

* ”It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

** “The pleasure is all mine, doctor.”

________________________

A/N: Posting this for Preet’s birthday because it’s her favorite out of the pre-writes <3 Thank you for always putting up with me! You deserve the best day :)

Ethan speaks Spanish like that one hot af white guy on TikTok. Damn. 

Also, I’m thinking of a part two? But we’ll see! 

Thank you so much for reading!

_____________

Tags:

@openheart12 | @ethandaddyramsey | @aestheticartsx |  @silverlitskies |  @flyawayboo | @paulfwesley | @hatescapsicum | @myusualnerdyself | @thatysn​ | @choicesyouplayandmore​ | @chasingrobbie​ | @trappedinfandoms​ | @togetherwearerapture​ | @nooruleman​ | @axwalker​ | @parkerattano​ | @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ | @kaavyaethanramsey​ | @edith-eggs1​| @choices-lurker​ | @jens-diamondchoices​ | @tefigranger​ | @ethanrcmsey​ | @coffeebeandragon​ | @senator-adrian-raines-wifey| @binny1985​ | @mvalentine​ | @sanchita012​ |  @ramseysno1rookie​ | @takeharryandgo​ | @aworldoffandoms​ | @desmaranj​  | @oofchoices​ | @ethxnrxmsey​ | @octobereighth​  | @lilyvalentine​ | @honeyandsunfl0wers​ | @enmchoices​ | @colossalpainintheass​ | @rookie-ramsey​ | @humanpokemon​ | @apphia12​ | @kiara-36​ | @eramsey28​ |  @custaroonie​ | @helloblueeyedcat​ | @dr-ramseys-rookie​ | @thegreentwin​ | @decadentwinnerjudgedream​ | @jeerapp | @doilooklikeiknow​ | @dulceghernandez​ | @starrystarrytrouble​ | @angela8756​ | @maurine07​ | @blossomanarchy​ | @openheartthot​ | @rookieoh​ | @nerdydinosaursweets​ |  @canigetanawwjunk, @aarisa-frost @livelife-laughloud​, @interobanginyourmom​, @perriewinklenerdie​, @nikki-2406​, @cinnamonspongecake​ | @professorkingslay​

@lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite | @titaniaangel |

[1001scoganmusings]

Loving you shouldn’t be this easy pt. 3

A/N: sorry for the delay tumblr wasn’t letting me post. Plot has finally come! I’ve decided to make this a crossover series tell me what you think. This story is also on my ao3 account.

Word count: 6.9k

Translations:

Niño- little boy

Flug y yo soy un hombre de dieciocho años no un niño - Flug and I’m a man of 18 years old not a little boy

Oh bilingüe eh. En ese caso, encarjarás aquí muy bien. - oh bilingual huh. In that case you’ll fit in just fine here

usted gusano sin valor- you worthless worm

No me importa lo que crees que sabes o de quién lo escuchaste- I don’t care what you think you know or what you heard from anyone else

Cobarde-coward

And as always minors DNI

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

A wave of nausea went through blackhat as he awoke to the blinding white lights of the lab. Every breath he took burned his throat it was as if he was inhaling smoke. His whole body cried in protest as he sat himself up right. It felt like he had taken a beating of some sort. Blackhat could see he was in a cage of pure silver with holy markings etched into the bars. He could feel the markings dampening his powers leaving him weakened and sluggish. He gave a low throaty growl. He’d rather peel the flesh from his bones with a dull knife layer by layer than to ever feel weak.

He had only himself to blame though. He thought he should’ve have been able to control himself but judging from the horrendous events of last night it seemed that he was wrong. The bond between him and Flug would no longer tolerate being suppressed and ignored. Blackhat could feel his magic was too weak inside the cell no longer able keep up with straining the bond. Flug would eventually piece things together he just knew it. He knew this would eventually happen but he had just hoped it would be much later down the road. He signed in defeat resting his head in his hands.

These passed days have been horrible. All he could think about was the damn scientist. Even going so far as to spy on him when he was working and completely ignoring his own work. He didn’t really care for what Flug was doing but the need to be close to him was so great he on more than one occasion tried to touch Flug. Only through sheer willpower alone did he stop himself. For so long he thought the right choice to dismiss flug as his mate was the right one. Now feeling emotions he didn’t quite understand try to claw their way out of his chest from just holding Flug close last night had him second guessing his choice. He could still remember the warmth of Flug’s body as pressed himself against him. Flug had sounded so needy as he touched the scientist’s body with delicate touches that had him mewling and moaning as if he’d never been touched before. Oh how he had desperately wanted to take Flug on his bedroom floor and make him cry out his name as he buried himself over and over again inside of Flug till his eyes rolled into the back of his skull. He shook his head trying to shake the memory before he embarrassed himself any further. If only Flug hadn’t come to him that day begging for a job.

Yes he remembered the day Flug had shown up out of the blue demanding to be his right hand man.

Blackhat had just come back from a meeting in hell when a plane crashed in to his manor.

He rushed to the roof expecting to put down a pathetic hero with delusional visions of grandeur. But when he got there all he saw was a kid with a paper bag over his head dusting himself off and getting out a large duffel bag from the cockpit. But that wasn’t what held his attention. The younger mans clothes were singed from the fire of the wreckage leaving holes and in his pants and shirt. On his thigh a mark could be seen peeking through. He knew that mark all too well. He had a similar one on his chest over his heart. Blackhat stood froze in shock as this kid walked over to him. A determined and cautious look about him.

“Lord blackhat sir I’ve come to work for you and to be your right hand man.”

Blackhat regained his composure making his face as blank as possible. “And why would I hire you? What qualities do you possibly poses that I might even remotely find useful?”

“I’m a scientist first and foremost. I invented most of the technology the heroes use. Which means I know how to defeat them and get them out of your hair for good. I promise to make blackhat organization the number one weapons distributor in the world with my inventions.” Blackhat seriously doubted this.

“A bold claim coming from someone who hasn’t even made a name for themselves.” The teen seemed to deflate a little but blackhat could smell the anger in him rising. Blackhat had heard of this inventor from a few moles within hero society on his payroll. Supposedly a genius child prodigy inventor made all the tech that the hero’s used but he had never seen him with his own eyes before. They had been doing quite a good job at hiding him away from prying eyes.

“How can I trust that this isn’t some ploy you and the heroes cooked up to gain access to the intel inside my manor.”

The young man put the bag down and unzipped it. The smell of rotting and decaying flesh hit blackhat as it wafted through the air. It was the mangled remains of a hero by the name of The Contortionist. A pesky hero who had been interrupting his distribution of weapons on the black market. Blackhat didn’t know what the hero had done to the kid to deserve death but it did warm his cold unfeeling heart to see one of their own turn against them.

“A gift if you will. I’d like to submit this as my resume sir.”

“What do you call yourself Niño?”

“Flug y yo soy un hombre de dieciocho años no un niño.”

“Oh bilingüe eh. En ese caso, encarjarás aquí muy bien.”

Still Flug wasn’t the evilest name in the world but that was just the nature of scientists he supposed. They were always named something incredibly plain and uninteresting.

Blackhat reached out to shake Flug’s hand. “Fine your hired. But under the condition that you give all the info you have on all the hero’s you worked for. I want secret identities, home addresses, normal work places anything that can help me to destroy them.”

“You got it boss.”

Over the course of the next few weeks blackhat watched Flug very closely not giving him a moments privacy just incase he tried to contact anyone outside the manor. He noticed two things during his observations. One Flug was very hygienic almost to the point of being a germaphobe. And two Flug was very brilliant. Not that he would ever tell him to his face. He could produce an invention in record time no matter how ridiculously short of a deadline blackhat gave him. Flugs inventions always superseded his expectations drawing even more customers then ever before with their efficiency. This was a level of dedication that you couldn’t buy or intimidate someone in to having. He was convinced Flug was serious about the things he had said. Rare since human rarely ever followed through with their promises in his experience. How foolish the heroes had been to let him slip through their grasp.

As for the little surprise of the scientist being his soulmate he had decided to disregard it completely. There was no reason to tell Flug if he didn’t have to. The bond seemed happy enough that they were in close proximity to one another and Flug had not noticed the link between them. Blackhat could constantly feel how Flug was feeling. How could creatures who lived and died in the blink of an eye feel so much all the time. It was making him sick to feel things he couldn’t even begin to describe. The worst so far had been feeling Flug’s constant need to sleep. Backhat never slept but the drowsiness coming from Flug was hard to ignore. So with no choice in the matter Blackhat slept for the first time in centuries. This pissed him off beyond belief. There were so many hours lost that could’ve gone to working on his business. Getting fed up and annoyed he used his powers to strain the bond to prevent Flugs emotions from seeping through. It was a temporary solution but better than revealing what was actually going on and having to deal with uncharted territory. The plan had seemed full proof or so he had thought.

They had been in his office going over the plans for their next set of inventions for the year that would need to go out before the end of the month when a letter shot out from the green flames of his fireplace on to his desk. Blackhat picked it up and opened it.

“It seems we’ve been invited to this years villains ball.”

“We sir?”

“Yes we Flug. You do work for me correct?” He said raising a brow.

“You know I do.” Flug said crossing his arms giving blackhat an unimpressed look.

“Then why say something so idiotic.” Blackhat rolled his eyes wondering how someone so smart could say the stupidest of things sometimes.

The day of the ball had arrived. Blackhat could see the usual villains dressed to the nines in their gaudiest outfits most of them being his customers. A villain by the name of Ms. Marianna Moriarty approached them greeting blackhat with a beautiful sweet smile, her long green sequin dress trailing behind her as she walked.

“Ahh blackhat I’m so glad to see you it’s really been too long.” She said in a thick country accent shaking his hand warmly. She was a thin pretty woman with long curly brown hair and a curvy figure. She looked more like a model from magazines and runway shows than a crime lord. “You remember my nephew Julius.” She gestured to the fellow beside her. He was tall with a lean build with slick back blonde tawny hair. He wore a suit that matched the color of his aunt’s dress. He looked like a younger version of Jude law but with green eyes. A handsome guy really. Julius smiled a charming smile as his aunt introduced him. “Yes I remember.” He said extending a handout to shake. “How are you settling in to your family’s business?” The Moriarty family had been in charge of all the money laundering that went on in villain society for the last 200 years. A true crime family if he ever saw one. “It’s fine sir but every now and then you get a cop or a judge that tries to play a hero even after they spent our money.” He laughed shaking his head ruefully at the end.

“The audacity of some people really. I trust they have been dealt with.”

“Not to worry sir. I deal with those matters personally. Can’t have people thinking their money isn’t safe in our care now can we.”

“No you most certainly can not.”

“Who’s the quiet fella you brought with you?”

Ms. Moriarty said pointing to Flug who had been standing there quietly observing their interaction.

“This is the newest addition to my business Dr. Flug. He’s my new scientist.”

“Nice to meet you.” Flug stepped forward shaking hands with the Moriarty’s.

“Ohh a new scientist huh. Well then you just have to meet rodolpho. He’s also a new scientist around here. You don’t mind if I borrow him for a bit do you honey?” She said sweetly as she linked her arms with flug and Julius already walking away disappearing in to the crowd.

Blackhat rolled his eyes at his old pet name and made his way up a grand staircase to the private rooms needing to get away from the stifling crowd. He reached the private rooms and placed his left hand in the center of the door letting his energy pour out and seep in to the door. There were no door knobs on the private rooms you could only get in if you were powerful enough to get passed the wards. This prevented any unwanted visitors from sneaking in and overhearing things they shouldn’t and ensured perfect secrecy. The door melted away letting him into the room. He stepped through in to the dimly lit room letting the door close behind him. It smelled of furniture polish and cigar smoke.

A group of demons were playing poker in the middle of the room not having seen him come in. A demon with red hair with matching deer ears and black small black antlers was the only one at the table smiling. He threw down his cards down revealing a royal flush and announced triumphantly “Read’em and weep boys.” The demons groaned in unison some of them cursing and banging their fists on the table.

“You fucking cheated Alastor!” A two headed demon that looked like a cross between a gorilla and a crocodile stood and shouted looking at the red haired demon with venom in his eyes.

“Don’t be a soar loser Santiago. I can’t help it if you suck at cards old sport. Maybe next time don’t gamble if you don’t have the money.” He said giving Santiago a cocky smirk. Alastor spotted blackhat from the corner of his eye.

“Well Its been fun and all taking all of your hard earned money but I have a very important business meeting now gentlemen. If you’ll excuse me I bid you all farewell and a pleasant rest of the evening.” Alastor stood and made his way over to blackhat. “This way please.” He gestured for blackhat to follow him. They walked through a pair of double doors that connected to the adjacent room next door. Blackhat heard the doors lock behind them as they entered. He made his way over to one of the large burgundy leather chairs and sat in it. It had an old world charm to it that blackhat had missed since the style had gone out. Alastor walked over to a mini bar in the corner of the room pouring two glasses of Scotch. He walked back over to blackhat handing him one of the glasses. “It’s Glenfarcias 1851.”

He sat down opposite of blackhat swirling his drink and taking a sip. “I do hope your enjoying the party old friend.”

Blackhat scoffed and took a drink feeling the burn of the scotch as it went down his throat. “You know I detest these gatherings. The only reason I showed up was because you said you had information I might find interesting in that letter you sent me.”

“Yes I think you’ll quite like it.” He put his drink down on the small table in between them. He sat forward and leveled blackhat with a serious expression. “Im going to kill Lucifer and take control of hell.”

“To think you dragged me to this accursed party just to say something so impossible.” Blackhat said shaking his head in disapproval.

“No it’s true I know how to take Lucifer down and gain control of hell. Just humor me for a second will you old friend.”

“You have until I finish my drink Alastor.”

“You and I both know how heavily hell relies on soul power. Demon royalty use it for almost everything but most importantly for protection against other citizens in hell. Technically hell should be a free for all. Why does demon royalty get a pass but the rest of hell has to fight just to survive being killed on a day to day basis. It’s not fair if you ask me.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know Alastor.”

“Well what if there just weren’t enough souls to go around in hell to power any of the protection wards.”

“What are you talking bout? Hell is the fullest it’s ever been. Humans can’t help but sin nowadays and even more are losing faith in the old god with each passing day. We won’t have to worry about a power shortage in hell anytime soon.”

“Well Lucifer’s daughter Charlie has come up with a brilliant idea. She wants to reform souls in hell so that they can go to heaven.”

“Her plan is as crazy as yours. Who in the hell would want to even go through with that?”

“Trust me it sounded crazy to me too at first.”

“Can it be done though? I’ve never heard of anything like that in all my years of existence.”

“I don’t know but she has theorizes that if she can reform even one denizen of hell who truly regrets their lifes actions and is willing to put in the work to change their ways for good that their soul will be saved and allowed in to heaven. I plan on helping her. If I can make this work then there’s a shot at killing Lucifer for good.”

“Why do you want Lucifer dead? It’s not like he’s ever meddled in to your affairs. He didn’t even bat an eye when you killed some of hells oldest and most powerful demons. No I know you. I know you couldn’t careless about redeeming souls or even owning hell. If you did you’d have taken over already. What’s the real reason your doing this? It has something to do with that princess I’d wager hmm?”

Alastor got up from his chair and stood in front of the fireplace with his back to blackhat. Blackhat heard him let out a heavy sigh as if he was being forced to say something he’d rather not but had no choice. “She’s my soulmate.”

“What?!” Blackhat said coughing as he felt burn of the scotch go down the wrong pipe.

Alastor took of one of his gloves and right on the back of his right hand was a golden apple. “Talk about forbidden fruit am I right.”

“Your sure it’s her.”

“She has the same mark on the back of her neck. I saw it one day when she was out with her family at a high party. I was invited by her father to talk business. He wanted to make sure the killing numbers stayed high in my part of hell. Then she walked up to us in a pretty thigh length red dress and her hair in a high bun. He introduced us and we talked making polite conversation till her mother called her over to where she was standing. And that’s when I saw it, a golden apple on the back of her neck just at the base as she turned to walk away. It shocked me to my core I’ll say that.”

“So you want to kill Lucifer because he might not approve of you?” Blackhat said raising a brow.

“No” said Alastor matter a fact tone as he put his glove back on. “I’m sure he couldn’t careless who his daughter dates. But, if Charlie does succeed do you think Lucifer is above killing his own daughter, his own flesh and blood, should she pose a threat to his iron grip on hell?”

“No I don’t.”

“I want to kill Lucifer before he kills Charlie. Will you help me?”

“Help you we don’t even know if her plan will work. For all we know Lucifer is letting his daft daughter go through with this ridiculous plan because he knows it won’t work. In case you’ve forgotten let me remind you he’s an angel.”

“Fallen angel old chum.”

“Fallen or not makes no difference. He has divine knowledge unknown to us on his side.”

“Yes but he’s the youngest angel in creation and, let me remind you, he is not all knowing. There’s no way the Christian god would have revealed something like that to one of his lackey messenger boys. Not even his favorite.”

“Maybe but we can’t know that since we went there.” Blackhat got up from his chair and went out on to the balcony this whole conversation was giving him a migraine.

Alastor came to stand beside him patiently waiting for his answer. “You know in all the centuries I’ve known you I’ve never asked for your help. But this is different. It’s important to me. I can’t lose Charlie, I refuse to. I will do anything in my power to keep her safe from harm.”

Blackhat chugged the last of his drink looking down at bottom of the glass as if it held the answer he should give. “One soul. Prove to me that she can save at least one blasted soul and then we can go from there.”

He could see that the ball was in full swing as he looked out on to the floor. There were couples dancing round and round in sync. They looked like little tiny dancers like the ones in a music box after you wound it up. He spotted Flug his temper rising at what he saw. Julius held Flug very close as they danced on the ballroom floor. Maybe it was the way Julius’s hand was a little too low on Flug’s hip. Or maybe it was that his face was too close to Flug’s but what ever it was blackhat didn’t like it.

“Here I think you need this.” Alistair raised his hand and held out a handkerchief to him.

“Why devil would I need that?” Alastor merely gestured down to his hand. In his anger he had shattered his glass in to pieces from holding it too tight. There was blood dripping down his arm on to the balcony ledge. He took the handkerchief picking out the pieces of glass from his skin before wiping his hand.

“My my to think, someone here has actually captured your eye. But who?” He look out into the direction blackhat had looked.

“I have no idea what your talking about.”

“Oh I see him but who is he? Can’t tell if he’s cute or not with the bag on his head. Have you ever seen him without it?”

“He’s Flug the new scientist I just hired and no I don’t know what he looks like. He never takes off the bag.”

“Surely a quick and thorough background check could provide you with some semblance of who he is.”

“Already tried that. He wiped out any known trace of himself from all data bases. He’s a damn ghost.

“What a smart little human. But that still doesn’t answer why you care about him?”

“Honestly it’s obvious to anyone with eyes blackhat. I’ve never seen you be so infatuated -“

“Infatuated?!”

“I just assumed you couldn’t feel love but I see I was wrong.”

“Your right about being wrong. I feel nothing for that human!”

“Oh that’s it isn’t it! Could it be? Oh say it isn’t true my friend.”

“What ever conclusion you think you’ve just come to let me be the first to tell you your wrong! Do you hear me! Wrong!”

“Has Cupid finally shot an arrow straight and true in to that cold and withered heart of yours.” Alastor said clutching his chest right over his heart. Blackhat rolled his eyes and shook his head at his friends dramatic antics.

“Or maybe it wasn’t cupid at all but the great Fate herself. Yes I see now. It’s as clear as day. He’s your soulmate isn’t he!?”

“Keep your voice down you fool.” Blackhat said even though he knew no one could hear them from on top of the balcony. Blackhat was quiet for a while not wanting to answer. “Yes” he mumbled in a hushed tone.

“What was that I couldn’t quite hear you over your delusional denial.”

“Yes blast you he’s my soulmate.” Blackhat yelled.

“You haven’t told him yet have you?”

“How did you know that?”

“Figured you must not have told him otherwise he wouldn’t be sneaking off to a private room with Marianna’s nephew.”

“He what!?” Blackhat turned back to the dance floor ready to jump over the ledge and maul Julius but they were still in the same place as before.

“Kidding.” Alastor said sticking out his tongue at blackhat. “You should tell him though. Um why haven’t you told him?”

“I don’t want a human for a mate. Its absolutely preposterous have you ever heard of such a thing? Plus I doubt he would be ecstatic about a demon being his mate.”

Alastor didn’t answer despite blackhat seeing he had something on the tip of his tongue to say.

“Out with it! what is it?! If you have something to say then say it.”

“Nothing really it’s just I think you should tell him is all.” He said resting his elbows on the ledge with a thoughtful look on his face. “Humans have a weird way of surprising us you know. Their reactions sometimes are quite the opposite of what we expect.”

“I don’t care what you say I will not be telling him. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve finished my drink and I’ll be taking my leave.”

“See you soon old friend.” What had he just gotten himself mixed up in. He left to collect Flug before he could make anymore stupid promises that might end up getting him killed. When he got to the dance floor Flug was nowhere to be seen.

“There you are handsome we’ve been looking for you all night. Were you hiding from us?” A group of beautiful women that usually kept him company at these drawling events swarmed him. A few linking arms with him. “Ladies I have no intention of entertaining your pathetic excuse for advances tonight. Now leave me be I’m looking for someone.”

“What do you mean? Who could be so important that you don’t have time for us.” said a woman Silvia or something he couldn’t remember. She was in a silver gown that made her look as if she was wrapped in tin foil than a designer dress with gaudy awful makeup. “I assure you madam I’d rather be with anyone else than here with you.” He broke free of the swarm and went out to the gardens.

“Finally blessed peace.”The fresh night air a soothing balm on his nerves. He stood at the entrance to the maze of a rose garden. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the link between him and Flug letting it pull him towards Flug using it as a sort of tracking device. Flug emotions are all over the place at the moment he couldn’t quite place them. It was making blackhat a little nauseous. He walked a while until he turned a corner coming to a clearing and saw the maze give way to a small white gazebo with a lake behind it. Soft smacking sounds could be heard from inside. There was a couple making out and getting handsy inside. Blackhat was about to turn around not wanting to interrupt until he recognized who exactly the couple was.

He saw Flug pushed up against the wall with his bag half way up leaving half of his face exposed and kissing Julius. Flug’s hands were buried in Julius’s hair pulling him closer and moaning as Julius pressed his body against Flug leaving no space between them.

“We are leaving come.” Flug righted his mask and clothes but said nothing as Blackhat opened a portal back to the manor and walked through it with Flug in tow.

Blackhat rounded on Flug the moment the portal closed. “I can’t believe you. I leave you alone for few moments and you let that pathetic excuse for a villain slobber all over you.”

“Why would that bother you? Last time I checked we weren’t an item?” Flug said calmly shrugging his shoulders.

Blackhat stopped for a moment. Flug was right there was no real reason for him to be upset. It’s not as if they were lovers and Flug didn’t know they were soulmates. So why did he react the way that he did?

Flug balled his hands at his side and stalked forward a predatory look in his eye. Each step he took forward caused blackhat to step back till he back hit the wall. Flug caged him in with his hands on either side of his shoulders leaving the tiniest bit of room between them. Blackhat was shocked to his core. No one had ever been able to corner him and throw him completely off guard ever. But something about Flug in this moment screamed danger.

“You know Ms. Moriarty told some funny stories at the party.” Flug said in a hushed tone. “Wanna hear my personal favorite of the night?” Blackhat was at a loss for words for the second time this night.

“She said back in the day when she younger and was still new to her family business you and her used to be a thing. She said she was happy the entire time you guys were together. That is till she caught sight of your soulmark.” Blast Marianna he vowed to throttle her the next time he saw her. How dare she share such personal information about him with just anyone.

“Can you guess know why that was?” Blackhat’s heart was jackhammering in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to escape these words but was pinned down by Flug’s piercing gaze.

“No? Well let me tell you. She said her soul mark didn’t matched yours and was inconsolable for weeks until you got fed up and dumped her. Now me being the curious person I am, I asked her what this soulmark of yours looked like. And what do you know, it was the exact description of my own soulmark. So I guess the question is, how long have you known that I’m you soulmate?”

Blackhat brought his hand up to Flug’s throat and spun them around so that Flug was now pressed against the wall. Blackhat was panicking. How had Flug turned the tables on him so quickly. Then it hit him. If Flug had already known from Ms.Moriarty that blackhat was his soulmate then the stunt with Julius was his test and blackhat had failed spectacularly. Only confirming what flug already knew. That’s why he was so calm when he flung his date in to the lake. What a smart little human indeed. Blackhat was almost impressed. His grip wasn’t enough to hurt Flug but just enough to get the message across. Blackhat brought his face so close to Flug’s that if someone were to pass by it would look as if they were about to kiss. “Don’t ever think you can over power me in my own home usted gusano sin valor. No me importa lo que crees que sabes o de quién lo escuchaste but put those nonsensical notions out of your head before you get yourself killed doctor.”

“Prove it then cobarde. Let me see with my own eyes that the soulmark on your chest doesn’t match mine.”

“I have nothing to prove to you.” Blackhat released Flug and turned into a dark cloud of smoke and phasing through the ceiling all the way up to his office.

That should have been the end of that conversation but no Flug had to be the meddlesome type. He burst forth theough the double doors panting and heaving. He stood at the door way trying to regain his breathing but he only sounded as if he might just pass out at any moment. Blackhat just stood there watching and hoping Flug might pass out in the next few moments.

“Just admit it you ass. You knew the whole time that you were my soulmate and you kept quiet about it.”

“I know doctor. I’ve known it since the moment you came here. You think I’m a fool! You think I don’t know everything that happens in my own home.”

”So you knew it was me the whole time and you let me suffer. Why?!” Flug yelled hurt and anger marring his voice.

Blackhat walked over to Flug, who stood his ground fists clenched head held high, and towered over him in his full height. “Get this through your head human because I’m only going to say it once. There are only two things in this world that I can say without a doubt that I love. Money and power. That will never change. It will never be you. How could I want someone as weak and fragile as you.” He said as he leveled Flug with a look of disdain instantly regretting the words coming out of his but it was too late and the situation was already spinning out of his control. All he really wanted was for Flug to leave him alone to sort out how he felt.

Blackhat watched as Flug’s paper bag began to be soaked with tear streaks as he stormed out of blackhat’s office. The pain blackhat felt was instantaneous. It was as if he had been stabbed with a knife in his chest and someone was twisting the blade. How was Flug sending him these horrid feelings with the bond being strained. Was Flug feeling even worse than blackhat if this was just a small taste? God he just wanted them to stop. He heard humans had high pain tolerances but this was something else. He was brought to his knees gasping for air as he tried to block the bond but it was no use. Flug’s will was greater than his in that moment. He layed on his office floor for what seemed like forever till the pain died down to more of a dull ache. He needed to put a stop to this. Never again did he ever want to feel any of that ever again.

Blackhat watched from the corner of Flug’s room as the scientist fell asleep. He waited an hour or so just to make sure he was out cold. Blackhat came down the wall and pressed a button on the cryo-bed opening it revealing a sleeping Flug. Blackhat placed his hand on flugs head sifting around his mind till he found the memories he was looking for. He pulled out a roll of the memories of that evening much like that of a film from a movie or a camera roll. He quickly waved a hand over them causing them to turn grey and discolored. He couldn’t necessarily erase them without hurting Flug so the best he could do was to block them from Flug’s memory. He let the strands of memory fall back in to Flug’s head already he could feel the pain slowly ebbing away. All he had to do was never take flug to one of those damn villain events ever again and no one would be the wiser. True this was not a permanent solution but by the time Flug eventually found out again he supposed he’d be better equipped to handle the situation.

He thought then that he had felt no love in his heart for Flug but now he felt differently. Had something in him changed or had it always been this way and he had been too arrogant and prideful to see it then? It just didn’t make any sense to him. No matter which way he looked at it the cases of demon and human soul mates was slim to none. Blackhat couldn’t even recall of ever hearing of such a thing. A human as his mate well that was just complete nonsense. It made just as much sense as a lion wanting to take an antelope for a mate.

He heard the deadbolt unlock and turned towards the lab door watching as Flug walked in. He was checking something on his data pad as he walked right up to the cage.

“Oh good afternoon sir.” Flug answered in a cheery mood as if he could not see how pissed off and tired he was. “I’m sincerely sorry if you are in any discomfort but the cage was a necessary precaution for both our safeties.” He didn’t even remotely look sorry. Blackhat stayed silent not sure how to broach the subject of last night or what was even going through Flug’s mind for that matter. Thankfully Flug made the first move.

“Well the good news is I sort of figured out why you had such a strong reaction to me last night.”

“Prey tell.” Blackhat was mentally sweating bullets. He knew how Flug had been feeling depressed about not knowing who his soulmate was. If he found out that blackhat knew and purposely kept it from him. He shuddered to think about it. True he couldn’t kill blackhat but with this little cage weakening him Flug could really do a number on him if he wanted to. And really blackhat couldn’t blame him. He’d be feeling murderous rage if someone had done something like this to him.

“Do you remember when I spilled the animal changing serum on you.”

“Yes.”

“Well while the serum didn’t turn you in to in animal it did however make your animalistic instincts go into hyper overdrive causing you to act like you really wanted me last night.” He trailed off almost whispering that last part.

Blackhat could smell Flug though the cage. Flug smelled of lavender mixed with fresh dug up wet earth and a hint of jasmine. An intoxicating scent really. His traitorous instincts screaming and demanding that he go to Flug and protect him. Blackhat’s hands twitched, his claws peeking out and leaving small scratches on the cage floor, longing to pull Flug closer to reassure him that he was wanted. He could feel through the bond that his mate was worried and a little apprehensive. He had to test Flug. Just a small test just to see how much he had actually figured out. If he had found out anything.

“How did you know blessed pure silver would weaken me?”

Flug crossed his arms and looked at blackhat a look of bewilderment on his face. “It’s funny you ask that because it was the strangest thing you know. I was thinking to myself how in the world was I going to restrain you so I could figure out what was wrong with you when all of a sudden these images flooded my mind. The exact thing I was looking for came to me and I just knew it would work. But how? How could I have known? I mean I’ve never studied the occult or anything of the spiritual nature so how could I have known. I’ve been asking myself this over and over again racking my brain and I’m no closer to figuring it out right now than when it happened.”

So he hadn’t figured it out. Blackhat wasn’t sure sure why he felt disappointed that Flug hadn’t figured out that they were soulmates but he’d take it. If Flug wanted to believe his slip up was some experiment gone wrong he wasn’t about to correct him. A silver lining if you would to this wretched situation. This way Blackhat had more time to sort out his feelings because later was going to eventually catch up with him and there would be no avoiding Flug once the cat was out of the bag.

“So you had a lucky guess big deal.”

“Sir if I may. I feel like it was more than that.”

“None sense.” He waved off any further protests Flug might have had. “In any case as you can see I’m fine now so unlock the damn door if you don’t mind. I’d like to leave this accursed cage and get back to business.” Flug pushed a button on the data pad letting the cage door swing open. Blackhat rose to his feet despite the aches and pains in his legs threatening to send him face first on to the floor. The second he was out of the cage it was like a heavy weight had been lifted from his body. He could feel his strength returning even if it was only a little bit.

Flug reaches out to help steady him worried that he might fall. “Sir. do you need -“

“Don’t touch me you imbecile!” Flug jumped back fear beinging his hands up as if to shield himself from an attack. “Ok ok got it! No touching got it.”

Blackhat could smell the fear coming off of Flug in wafts. Usually this scent would have smelled intoxicatingly delicious to him but seeing as it was coming from his mate it made him feel angry and guilty. How absurd! He never before felt guilt for anyone or anything. He needed to get out of here before he did something as absolutely ridiculous as apologize or even worse ask for Flug’s forgiveness. Blackhat snaped his fingers and was teleported directly in to his office.

He walked over to his desk letting himself sink down into his chair. He need a drink this whole situation was just too much. Just as he was about to get up and fix himself a drink a letter shot out from his fire place. “What now?” Blackhat groaned. Blackhat grabbed the letter and opened it.

They’d done it. Charlie had actually done it. A soul had successfully been able to be redeemed and sent to Heaven. Blackhat sat back down in his chair shock and awe on his face. The game was on and there would be no telling what would happen now. He needed to meet with Alistair and talk. But first a drink.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ THE DREAM CAR ❜

with Che ‘Taza’ Romero.

Request: Hey , could you do a fic of a girl being tazas younger girl that he try’s to hide from the club but the eventually find out about her ,Please?

BY ANON

Warnings: none.

Word count: 1.4k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @angels-reyes

Masterlist.

“You have to be fucking kidding me”.

Taking off his sunglasses, close to Bishop and Tranq, Taza watches how the crane drived by Chuckie carries your black Mustang into the scrapping. His brothers are looking at him confused, seeing how his face turns from perplexity to a jolly one. And for a moment, he's about to text you, but he's going to enjoy it.

“Do you know that car?” Hank asks, following him through the alley towards the office.

“I bought it”. He just says, turning at him with a petty smile on his lips.

“For whom?”

“Find Coco”. He replies to Bishop going upstairs.

You have to sit over the edge of the sidewalk, taking off a cig from your pocket to light it up and have a deep smoke. The crane warning on the floor with the number of your license and a telephone to call, have given you a heart attack. Che bought it for you three months ago, and you love that car more than you love him. You're almost sobbing, with some tears running down your cheeks, typing the number on your phone and placing it on your right ear. Rubbing your forehead, taking care to not get burned by the cig, you wait for an answer.

“Good morning, how can I help you?”

“Hi, ahm… my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I have a Ford Mustang GT, license seven, romero, delaware, delaware, six, four, nine. From Santo Padre, California”.

“Let me check it, miss, one second”.

Moving your leg nervously, having another drag and spitting the smoke by your lips, with a heavy sigh, you know you're starting to lose your shit. If Che finds it out, he's going to tease you for the rest of your life.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?”

“Yeah, I'm here”.

“Do you know ‘Romero Bros. Scrap and Salvage’?”

“Oh, shit… Shit, shit, shit… Why did you take it there, and not the municipal'?”

“It was completed, mi—”.

Hanging out the call, you know that you are really fucked. Throwing away the cigar to stand up, you hire an uber to pick you up, praying that Che is not there. And the road to the scrapping feels like an eternity, stepping up from the car to run through the alley and trying to find the office.

“Hey! Hey! You!” Spotting two men somewhat older than you, they turn around. “My car is here, and I need to take it. Like right now”.

“Which one, mami?” One of them with long and black hair opens a notebook between his hands.

“It's ahm… a black Mustang. A GT”. You say trying to have one look from it.

“Yeah, it came an hour ago, more or less. You have to pa—”.

“Yes, whatever. I need my fucking car”. You interrupt him so desperate that you're about to lose the left calm you have.

The other man shrugs his shoulders at him, before making you a soft move with his hand to follow them.

“Is it Che here…?” You ask then, scared like never before.

“Oh, yes”.

“Sh—”.

“TAAAZAAAAAAAAA!”

“FUCK, NO, SHUT UP”. You're trembling, trying to cover the mouth of the taller man, when you hear your boyfriend's voice.

“Yeah?”

You can see him coming closer from nowhere, followed by another four men. You can recognize them. You have seen some pictures at the ranch. Your cheeks are burning, your lips shaking, about to cry again. The apache looks at you, raising an eyebrow surprised.

“Who's that?” He asks, pointing at you and making you twist your neck, crossing both arms over your chest.

“We have her car, brother. The Mustang that came this morning”.

“Sorry, miss, but we received the order to make it a cube”.

Your mouth drops to the floor, with your heart about to stop. Starting to laugh freaking out, you shake your chin.

“Don't play shit with me, Che”.

“Miss, your car has been pressed”. He insists, with a serious look on his face.

“Are you… fucking kidding me?”

“No, miss. Is over there”. Moving his head to behind you, you turn over your steps.

Some meters away, you find a big black cube with a silver horse badge almost destroyed. Your heart stops for a second, before speeding up to the limits, while you start to cry inconsolably running to what it's supposed to be your car. Or, at least, what's left from it. Kneeling next to the cube, you bow down your head, with the eyelids strongly closed. You can't believe that Che, knowing it, allowed it to be destroyed. Sitting down, you curl your legs against your chest with both hands on the back of your head, feeling a real anguish ending up on waking your anxiety. And it's not because of the car, but because Taza bought it for your anniversary and now he's playing the ‘I-don't-know-who-you-are’ game, probably because of what's happening.

And it's painful because his friends don't know you. You're aware of what he does there and outside of Santo Padre, but you talked about separating both worlds to keep you safe. If not, this would not have happened.

Bishop pulls the guys apart, rubbing his chin looking at his brother.

“Man, that's fucking breaking my heart”.

“Yeah, she probably is gonna break up with me”. Che chuckles, having so much fun.

“She what?” Angel asks, cleaning his hands with a cloth.

“I bought her that car for our first anniversary, three months ago”.

“Wait, wait, wait… is that your girl?” El presidente has to shake his head, a little confused. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Man, it's just a joke”.

“I don' see the fun here, carnal. She's fuckin' fallin' into pieces”. Coco says turning at you for a second, watching you grab the silver badge.

“C'mon, brother. I think she learnt the lesson. We don't even know if the car was parked correctly or not. Lately, the municipal crane is having a lot of trouble, for taking cars properly parked”. Tranq says palming his back.

“Yeah, and she looks really affected…” Riz adds frowning.

“It's funny because I met her looking at that car through the shop wind—”.

“Man, I'm gonna shoot you down”. Creeper threatens him.

“Miss, we need you to sign the papers”. Che says then.

“Fuck… you”. You reply back, standing up and trying to figure out how you can carry the heavy cube, to take it out of here.

“Hey, mami, it—”.

“Shut the fuck up!” You yell enraged at him, with your eyes reddened, cleaning your tears with a hand.

“Cariño, es una broma”. (Honey, it's just a joke). Your boyfriend breaks into laughter, walking towards you to surround your body with his arms. “Shit, baby… you're so inn—”.

“Isn't that my car?” You mumble sobbing. Confused, you raise your eyes at his.

“Where the fuck did you park it, ah?”

“I just… I just stop… five minutes to pick up your watch…”

“My what?” Pulling himself away, he looks how you take off a red bow from your bag.

“Give me my car, please”. You almost beg, snuffing.

“Did you… fix it up?”

Some days ago, he fell from one of the horses in the ranch, and the glass broke. So you, secretly, brought it to the best watchmaker in Santo Padre. Wearing it, he hugs you in front of his silent friends, leaving a kiss on your head.

“Sorry, babe… It was just a joke”. He says somewhat regretted. “Come here…”

Leading your steps, and passing away the other men, you cross another scrap alley to what looks like the clubhouse he has talked about it thousands of times. Close to his bike, you find the spotless and freshly cleaned black Mustang. And you feel your legs tremble running straight to it.

“Shit, I will never let you alone again”. You mutter lying on the hood with open arms.

“Do you wanna meet my other family or you're gonna break up with me, ah?” Che chuckles, coming closer.

“I hate you… I swear I hate you, pendejo”. You growl looking at him, before standing up.

“Nah… You know you love me. C'mon, mi amor, let me introduce you”.

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[kittensjonsa]

Otherwise, Engaged

The Proposal AU. 

Summary: Flashbacks. A discussion on consent, freedom and independence. Jon finds his heart again -  and the burden of feelings that comes with it. 

Note: Some angst and a backstory.. before the hot smut can begin, of course! Hence, the length of this one. Sorry not sorry. Rated M.

Chapters 1 - 6 

Chapter 7

THREE YEARS EARLIER

“Sansa!”

Sansa wanted to run. Run away from it all. From everyone and especially her mother.

“Honey, please.. just let her be,” Sansa heard her father’s calm voice behind her as she stomped past the hallway and out the door.

Yes, just let me be. Be my own person and away from anything Winterfell or anyone named Stark.

It wasn't so much of the place or the people, it was just the fact of the importance of being a Stark she has had to deal with all her life. Grow up, live and breathe Winterfell. True that she was indeed very much a Northern girl and every bit a Stark but she still had her own character and personality, her own person - didn't that count for anything?

“So, here's our new guy, Jon Snow. Someone you all are familiar with I am sure,” Jeor gave Jon's shoulder a firm squeeze as the introductions made their rounds at the table. Jon smiled and nodded at the elderly gentlemen and a lady seated with them. Jon spoke very little and merely listened throughout the dinner. Jon realised very quickly that it was all business and had little to do with him, managing polite yes-es and a laugh at every dull joke every once in a while. Besides, he was far more concerned about getting his affairs in order and with so many accounts under his name, Jon feared he desperately needed an assistant. My brain can only handle so much, great as it is.

It had only been two weeks since the move into the swanky corner office of Mormont & Sons Publishing and it had been dinner every night as Jeor insisted on making sure Jon and his talent was right smack in the faces of the right people. Small price to pay for being the new hot shot editor in town.

“Hey Ryan, if you have a minute, send me some resumes my way would you? You know, for the opening for the exec assistant? Haven't heard anything from HR.”

Jon was ignored as Ryan, the HR head only continued his conversation on his phone. A token nod greeted Jon as Ryan finally waved a hello to him, patting down a pile of papers in a corner of his desk, his ear still glued to the phone. Jon wasn't sure what that meant but perhaps he was pointing out to the resumes the department had received along with the personal assistant posting. It was obvious Ryan did not really care if he existed or not.

Jon Snow was just another name on the payroll, amongst hundreds of others. Ryan had his work cut out for him indefinitely, though Jon couldn't care less, as long as he got the right person he wanted for the job. Another name on the payroll. Sorry, Ryan. Jon decided to help himself to the pile seeing how busy Ryan was, the active lines on his phone on hold blinking impatiently.

“Oh right, yeah. So, there are already some here you might want to look at. Sandra already found hers and these were the shortlisted ones. They seem promising.”

Sighing, Jon took the messy folder off the desk.

“Right. Of course. I'll look through them then. Thanks.”

No thanks.

Jon was about to say something about scheduling appointments when he saw Ryan going back to ignoring him as soon he got on the phone again.

Looks like I'm on my own. Story of my life, ain't it.

Jon stared tiredly at the piece of paper before him. This was the last resume from the pile of rejects Sandra had left him. The only piece of resume was from, quite possibly the only candidate left worthy of any attention. Jon was exhausted, realising this was tedious work - from the mingling dinners every night to reading manuscripts one after another - he was quite content with an extra pair of hands really. He hardly looked after himself recently. And if he had to eat from another take out box and sleep on the office couch again, he'd quit. So done. There was no way he could do everything himself. Especially the phone calls. Waking up in bed with his phone on his face was something he'd like to avoid as much as possible.

“Sansa Stark, let's see if you're the one,” Jon skimmed through the cover letter.

University of Westeros. Okay good enough.

“Please, please say you can start immediately.”

Jon rubbed his tired eyes as he clicked 'send' and decided he was done for the day. His head was pounding away, drained from all the reading he had done and all he wanted was his bed. He'd check for any emails from a Sansa Stark first thing in the morning. Right now, he needed to sleep and at home, not another night on the couch in his office.

Sansa Stark. God, I need you. Save me.

The blaring alarm had Jon spring out of bed and while he was normally up quite early for his workouts, he was not feeling quite up to it that morning.

Stumbling about, Jon grabbed the first shirt he found his hands on in the closet. It looked decent enough with yesterday's suit jacket over it.

Right, twenty-four hour dry cleaners. That's going on the list.

Twenty four hours never seemed enough ever since he started his new job with the Mormonts. Exhausted was an understatement. Although, now he was a little relieved, looking forward to the next few days when he could sleep a little easier thanks to Sansa Stark. Well, hopefully.

“Mr Snow, your 8.30 is here.” A bored tone greeted him the moment he stepped out into the lobby.

It was too early to choke on his triple shot espresso. "My what?"

“Mr Snow? Hi, I got your email yesterday and I replied, though I wasn't sure if you got it. So... hi, I'm Sansa Stark.”

Oh.

“For the executive assistant post? I figured the HR department knew about our appointment but looks like… nobody's quite in yet.”

A tall, leggy redhead with blazing blue eyes and a smile that lit up the sky.

Ahh...right.. Sansa Stark.

---

Her sultry drawl that lingered on a breathy rasp was his reckoning. Say my name. Again and again. Jon gently brushed away the soft copper locks from the creamy skin of her neck and kissed it. He inhaled deeply, as deep as he could drink her in, hungrily desperate, because this might the first and only time he'd have with her.

Her scent was unmistakable. A heady mix reminiscent of lavender and rose, Jon recalled how it greeted him every morning, almost every day the past three years. He had grown fond of it, comforted by it, knowing that she was a constant at his side. How he looked forward to seeing her leap into his office and greet him with a smile and his favourite coffee. How he noticed the way her lips pursed, poring over pages of manuscripts whilst sat next to him with her long slender legs crossed ever so daintily. Little bits and pieces of her, that if only she knew he'd taken a liking to- Sansa probably wouldn't have despised him so much.

He had chosen this life. He was good at it. There was no compromise on his career because it was the only thing he ever had that was his and his alone. Jon refused for it to be taken away for the sake of a mere whim or an itch to scratch. Years and years of hard work had him where he was right now, and it would have all gone to dust, if he were to ruin everything for the sake of feelings. Feelings he had buried so deep within that are now on the verge of imploding, teetering on losing the one thing he yearned for all his life. Acceptance. And if fate wasn't cheeky enough, it was all Sansa gave him and it was exactly what he needed.

It was fortune that smiled on him, chancing upon a resume his former editors had passed on due to her clear lack of experience. It was his first week at Mormont & Sons and it was clear, with all the new accounts thrown at him, the golden boy of print and press, that he was in dire need of an assistant. As long as they were willing to put in the time and work, Jon wouldn't be picky. Even a naive, inexperienced fresh graduate would do, he told himself that. It was just assistance he needed, nothing more.

Only thing was, he didn't expect a tall beautiful redhead named Sansa Stark to step into his office, all eager and enthusiastic and willing to do whatever it took to be an author of her own right one day. The day Jon couldn't possibly forget. And now, the one person Jon could not lose.

“Sansa…” Jon nibbled at her ears as his hands roamed to parts of her he once longed to touch while his lips quickly found their way lower to her bosom.

Sansa seized a fistful of his curls as his mouth hovered closer to her teats, soft yet hard from arousal. Heaving full mounds of soft flesh so scintillating Jon couldn't help but open his mouth wide and devour them still clothed. She was perfect in every way, just like he had pictured in his mind.

“Oh god… Jon..”

The kiss had gone further than they imagined as Jon and Sansa laid on her bed, a tangled mess of legs and arms caressing every inch of the other. Sansa writhed at every contact his lips made with her skin, with the hem of her dress shifting higher and dangerously above her hips, where his hands and mouth were only a breath away from a place no man had been before.

Sansa groaned at the clothed yet growing hardness stroking against the sides of her thighs as Jon's body moved along with his lips pecking lower and lower below her stomach. Jon had to pause, because if he went on, there would absolutely be no stopping him. He needed to be sure. He needed her to be sure. It was happening indeed, despite his best efforts to control himself.

“Sansa… please.. for the love of God... tell me to stop.. right now.. if you want me to… because I... cannot,” Jon muttered at the end of every kiss as he made his way up to kiss her lips again. Sansa groaned at his touch and responded with a deep kiss, like the one he gave her moments ago. Sansa hissed as Jon's mouth left hers and back to her lower body.

“Jon… don't.. stop.. but.. I have to tell you something,” Sansa answered in between gasps and hisses, her skin burning hot at every lick of Jon's tongue on her belly.

“Tell me… what?” Jon continued in bliss as his mouth found hers again, this time his eyes gazing deeply into hers.

“I…. haven't... done this.. so.. be gentle?” Sansa confessed, blushing as she cupped and kissed his face.

Jon could hear the sound of tyres screeching in brakes in his head. “W-wait… what?”

No... Hold on. Wait.

Jon sat up immediately the moment the reality hit him. He refused to face up to it but he now he had to. It took a moment before Sansa opened her eyes and found Jon sitting at the end of her bed watching her with a frown.

Oh God, what now?

“Jon? What.. why.. what's wrong?”

Jon bit down his lip. Should he ask? Should he say it? Perhaps not. It was an amazing moment they both shared and she gave her consent. True, that was enough, but why did it feel so awfully wrong? Sansa waited but grew impatient. It was a look she had never been acquainted with before and it worried her.

“You mean to tell me.. you haven't done it yet? Shit.. this is not happening.”

What?

Sansa felt the usual annoyance rising in her again and this time it was seething. Suddenly she felt naked and stupid. From a high she didn't want to come down from, it only took minutes to feel like she had been spat out onto the ground.

“What.. why are you being like this, Jon? Why.. why does that matter? I said yes didn't I?” Sansa dared to ask, her eyes filling with tears she didn't expect. Jon only sighed and looked away. Shame. She knew that look well enough.

“Why.. am I not good enough now?”

Jon panicked and hastened to cool the growing tension. “No, that's not what I meant, Sansa. It's just-”

“Just what? How ridiculous it is that I'm here almost topless and you giving me a hickey seconds ago and then.. for posterity's sake, I say I'm a virgin, because you know, I just wanted to let you know since I've never done this before, ever.. and then all of a sudden, you stop and GROW A CONSCIENCE?!”

“No, Sansa that's not what-”

“Then, what the hell do you mean? Because it was was as clear as day when you had your tongue down my throat seconds ago!”

Jon gulped, his eyes slowly meeting hers. “I just.. didn't expect us to-”

“To what? Have sex?” Sansa asked, her voice wavering.

“Sansa, look.. let me just explain, please?” Jon pleaded, lowering his tone and voice, hoping Sansa would do the same. The last thing he wanted was an argument about sex with Sansa under Ned Stark's roof and everyone else hearing them.

“Just say it... I'm not good enough am I? Well, screw you, Jon Snow, you're on your fucking own.”

Sansa wiped away her tears as she hastily put her dress back in order and stood up, wanting to leave. Sansa flinched and almost elbowed him as Jon reached out to console her. He didn't know what to do or say exactly and he did not want to leave nor did he know how. They had come this far and certainly this can't be it. This has gone way, way off course.

“Sansa, please.. listen to me. I.. I don't want to impose anymore than I already have Sansa. Please try to understand that. I can't… lie to your family and then.. take you.. like that... Under these circumstances. This.. just doesn't feel right.. I can't do that to you.”

Sansa blinked as she tried to comprehend what Jon was trying to say.

“Take me? What the hell am I to you? Cattle? So, you're saying if I wasn't untouched and pure like you said, you'd do it? And all of the above?!”

This wasn't going well at all.

“No." Jon paused.

"You're on thin fucking ice, Jon. After all I've done for you.”

Sansa knew the right words to hit right back. Ouch.

“Yes and you deserve better than this! Than all of this right now! You've been.. everything to me since we met. I don't want to ruin this just because I needed dick relief!”

Dick relief. Some editor you are. Jon groaned, exasperated. He was losing, fast.

“How would you know what I want or deserve? Don't I get a say in this? I chose it, yes. I played along with this, yes. Did I want to be intimate with you? Yes! What part of me telling you not to stop meant anything but?”

Sansa sighed and watched the trees sway in the chilly breeze from the balcony. She couldn't face him now. She had become just another conversation, an afterthought.

“It's 2019, you know. My body is mine to give, Jon. It's not for anyone to take. And I wanted to give it to you. It was my choice.”

Ah, fuck. Touché. And I wanted it.

Sansa could hardly believe what was happening. From pure passion one moment, to wiping away tears the next. Of course, it had to be Jon. Sansa had cried tears over the tyranny of the workload he dumped on her, but this.. this was something else.

Sansa turned and sat back down on the bed, seeing Jon seated at the bench, his face in his hands.

“Let me tell you something, mister. Do you know how hard I've worked to find my own two feet? Moving to the city and be a writer some day? All this, without relying on my parents, while being a Stark? Do you know how much I had to give up to get here? I did that on my own, because I chose to. Without any help from my family, knowing how much it hurt them. All my life, I've been told what to do, what to be and how to do it and for the most part, I played along and obliged. But one day I decided, no. I'm going to do my own thing. Myself. And from then on, I decided whatever I choose to do, it would be me who says so."

Sansa sighed, recounting the numerous arguments she had with her mother and the times she's had to skip Skyping her brothers just to prove her point on how well and busy she was doing on her own.

Jon had no idea how it had been for her but he understood what she meant. Sacrifices.

He raised his hands in surrender. It was getting far too deep and deviated away too much from what they had in mind - this wasn't how he wanted the weekend to go. They had one plan and no matter what, they both had to stick to it.

Sansa bit down her lip, struggling not to say too much before it was too late. She had said enough to make her point. Enough of everyone telling her how she should live her life. Enough. Besides, there was nothing to be ashamed about it, Jeyne consoled her once. The whispers behind her back, how she was the ice queen of the North, the ways they all stared at her in university the moment she stepped foot there. Sansa Stark, pride and joy of Winterfell - what shame if she was ruined. Sansa couldn't do that to herself and her parents. Being the eldest daughter of the North's power couple was already hard enough. Sansa assured herself constantly, how there was no one remotely interesting enough to spark any interest anyway. Plus, the Stark name was repellent enough. Everyone knew who her parents were, so nobody dared to try.

“So, all this, fake fiance bullshit? Yeah, I chose it. Me, working for you and staying on despite your royal douche-ness, I chose it. Why is that such a strange concept to you.”

Jon wanted to strangle himself if he could. Or kick himself in the balls, as it would be appropriate. Pretending to be fake-engaged with the threat of five years in prison looming over their heads was one thing, if only he could explain how taking Sansa's untouched body was quite another. And to think he was so close to ruining every single area of Sansa's life just moments ago. He couldn't do it to her.

“Sansa… you don't know.. how much I owe you for this. All of this. And.. man.. the things I want to do to you..” Jon scoffed at the irony of it all.

“Well, now you're just saying that,” Sansa huffed indignantly at the revelation.

Jon reached out to grab her hand but Sansa pulled back.

“No, I'm not this time. Listen, let's just-”

A loud knock jolted both of them back to reality. “Sansy? Can Jon come out and fish with us? Can he? Please?”

Ah, shit. The family.

Jon looked to Sansa for an answer. Clearly they both had forgotten about the day's program.

“Uhh.. yeah. We'll be out in a minute.”

Sansa sat on her bed, watching Jon deliberate his next move.

“Well? Don't make my dad and brothers wait,” Sansa prompted.

Fair enough. “Sansa, please.. can we talk when I get back? I promise I have a point to make. I'm just failing badly at making it right now.”

Sansa couldn't listen to anything, not to a single word he'd say, anyway. Time apart would be good. She needed to think, go over what had just transpired and perhaps how to move on from there. Surely she didn't want to lose her job if Jon went to jail, that was a fact whether she liked or not. Crawling back to Winterfell with her tail between her legs, hearing her mother gloat how she had been right all along, was hard to swallow too. Damn decisions. All after that speech about independence, Sansa Stark. Great.

“I'll be in the treehouse. It's behind the shed. Find me there when you're done.”

Jon nodded and grabbed his coat as he headed out.

All Jon wanted to do was tear his hair out. If only she knew how much I want her right here, right now. But the fishing call was a good save, he'd might have said worse things and dug a deeper hole than he was already in. He would think about what to say and how he'd say it. It was clear that this little adventure to meet the family, to convince some immigration officer and avoid going to prison was turning into something else entirely.

It was a nice but cold day out on a rocky boat that Jon mustered enough will to survive. He didn't like the water and certainly not the icy cold one at Winterfell and he longed to see Sansa again, counting down the hours.

He needed to do right by her, at least in keeping the boundaries, though they were already crossed. But that didn't matter as boundaries were boundaries. He had to do something. If he truly was a cad through and through, he'd have her four ways to Sunday, against the wall in her own room, in her parent's house where she grew up, having her scream his name for her mother and all to hear - and then leave and go back to normal once the visa got approved. But we can't go back to how things were, can we? Not after that kiss.

But he wasn't a cad, safe to say and he was proud of it. He actually cared for Sansa. Infuriating, smart-mouth and gorgeous Sansa Stark. He'd end the whole charade right now, if he had to do the right thing. A small part of him feared that it perhaps was already over.  Whatever it may be, he'd rather go to prison in Dorne than put Sansa through all of that on top of everything he had dragged her into.

I would. She deserves better than this.

“Well, I guess better luck next time eh?” Jon turned to hear Ned's voice call out to him. He was talking about the day's poor catch but to Jon, it meant something else.

If there's a next time, indeed. So help me, God.

[queenofcats17]

I was thinking about ES Benrey’s isolation issues and how they likely flared up while the evil G-man was trying to turn him into a replacement.

First part is here. 

Eternal Stream belongs to me, @liliflower137, @arcanist-valtrois, and @lady-lampblack

The original G-man replacement idea is not mine.

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

The Benrey was proving more trouble than he was worth. 

G-man was loathe to admit when he was wrong, but he might have been wrong to simply choose the first person who might fit. It had just seemed so easy. The Benrey hardly had any memories, hardly had anyone who would look for him. He’d thought it would be simple.

Except it hadn’t been simple. 

The Benrey came with his own trauma that G-man hadn’t anticipated and didn’t know how to deal with. 

Most notably, his issues with isolation. 

Which, in retrospect, G-man should have expected given the Benrey had been trapped alone in a computer for two years. 

The first time G-man had tried to leave him alone the Benrey had grabbed onto his arm and refused to let go, begging for G-man not to leave him by himself. G-man had insisted he was only leaving to run an errand, which was true, but that had failed to remedy things.

The Benrey had remained inconsolable, screaming and crying and clawing at G-man’s sleeve. He’d managed to tear up the fabric of G-man’s sleeve rather badly with his claws and leave some deep scratches.

Even if G-man had erased the Benrey’s memory of his time of isolation, it seemed the trauma had remained, etched into his very consciousness. 

Even after G-man had managed to separate himself and leave the Benrey in the void, he’d returned to find the Benrey had torn apart what little furnishings G-man had left him with, both with his shapeshifted claws and with his powers going out of control. He’d reprimanded the Benrey for this little tantrum and removed his furnishings for a time, hoping this deprivation would discourage the Benrey from repeating his little meltdown.

But this failed to fix the problem. (And, really, he should have known that this would only make things worse. But he didn’t stop to think. Didn’t stop to consider Benrey’s trauma and its source. Because it didn’t matter to him)

Every time G-man left, the Benrey would destroy everything in a frenzy, often injuring himself in the process. Each time G-man would reprimand him and remove his furnishings in an attempt to teach him a lesson. 

This repeated over and over again, with G-man getting increasingly frustrated the longer it went on. He could certainly have controlled the Benrey, but he wanted a replacement, not a puppet. 

If this was going to work long term, the Benrey needed to learn and change.

In an attempt to ease the Benrey’s separation issues, G-man created a construct to leave him with. He assumed the problem was that the Benrey needed to be able to see and hear someone, so he made sure the construct was able to say a few words. Just simple phrases. 

...This had been a....poor decision.

G-man had returned to the construct ripped apart and the Benrey sitting in the middle of his once again ruined room with a dead look in his eyes. He’d taken a broken piece of chair and carved “LET ME OUT” into the floor over and over and over and over and over and over until the piece broke. The pieces of the construct littered the room like pieces of paper, lacking any real substance. If the construct had possessed blood, the Benrey would have been covered in it.

When G-man had spoken, ready to reprimand the Benrey once more, the Benrey had sprung up, moving faster than G-man had ever seen him move before. G-man was barely able to restrain the Benrey in time, the Benrey’s shapeshifted claws inches from his throat.

The Benrey was screaming incomprehensibly, still trying to claw at G-man’s throat while he sobbed, freezing and unfreezing time around them. Presumably, he’d worked himself into a frenzy after being left alone. Evidently, the issues ran too deep for G-man to fix in his capacity.

That was when he’d decided he needed to get rid of the Benrey. It was too much of a hassle to try and turn this wreck of a human being into a functioning replacement.

Time to move on.

.

He’d begged his supervisor not to leave him alone. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t be alone.

The thought of being alone, staring out at the blackness through the clear walls that made up his room, filled him with a sense of visceral terror. 

For some reason, whenever his supervisor left, he couldn’t help but be terrified that he was never coming back. That B was going to be stuck in this black void by himself forever. 

His terror overwhelmed his body, leading him to lash out, tear up everything in an attempt to find someone, something. 

He needed to get out. 

He needed to know he wasn’t alone. 

His supervisor’s ire grew each time he returned to find B’s destroyed dwelling. 

The times B spent without furnishings only made things worse. Each time he was afraid this was the time he would be left floating in the blackness forever. Each time made him even more desperate for human connection, even more desperate to not be left alone.

He’d been in a downward spiral that he didn’t know how to escape from.

And then his supervisor had left him with the construct. 

Seeing its blank face, hearing it parrot back those same words over and over...something in him had broken.

That rampage had been worse than any of the others. Holes in time and space had opened all around him as his claws dug into the flesh of the construct. It yielded easily under him. It was like ripping apart wet tissue paper. Only one thought occupied his mind. 

He had to get out. 

He had to get out. 

He couldn’t be stuck again.

He lashed out, both with his claws and the power his supervisor had given him, attempting to break down the clear walls that kept him trapped. 

But his powers weren’t strong enough to overcome the cage his supervisor had put in place, which had led to him taking out his anger by carving “Let me out” into the floor over and over and over until he tired himself out.

In the end, he’d been forced to crumple in the middle of his chaos and cry.

He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

[remywrites5]

Please please please more spider-man/deadpool fluff!!!! That fake-ex thing you posted was *chefs kiss*

Thank you! This was actually inspired by a post I saw of Tom Holland talking about having to wear thongs under his suit. I was like man Wade would lose his shit if he knew about that. 

***         

  Wade Wilson was bored. He was between movies, and he’d just been sold to Disney, so he didn’t have a lot going on. So Wade decided to do what he always did when he was bored – bother Spider-man.

           He snuck into Peter Parker’s apartment through the window and began going through his stuff. It seemed like Spidey wasn’t home but Wade wasn’t exactly in a hurry. Besides, it gave him some time to snoop on Spidey and that was just delicious.

           He made himself a hot pocket from Peter’s freezer and walked around while he ate it, taking everything in. Whitey was mentioning that maybe Peter would see this as a huge breach of Spider-man’s trust after Peter went and revealed his secret identity to Wade. Wade promptly ignored him as he took a bite out of his hot pocket, some of the contents spilling out onto his suit. “Fuck,” he said, grabbing a paper towel and wiping it off.

           He found an old photo album Peter had and sat down on the sofa to peruse it. He cooed at pictures of a baby Peter, giggled at pictures of teenage Peter, and swooned at pictures of Peter now. Man, did Wade have it bad. He also got his first glimpse of the illustrious Uncle Ben, knowing all about Peter’s backstory.

           He flipped the book closed and left it on the couch as he went into Peter’s bedroom. If Wade hadn’t already been aware that Peter was a massive dork, he certainly got that impression from Peter’s room. He had a periodic table on the wall, a bunch of Star wars shit, and even a microscope. Everything about Peter’s room screamed nerd.

           Wade went over to the dresser and began rifling through it. He slid open the underwear drawer and smiled to himself. He pushed aside a few pairs of boxers and his eyes widened in shock when it landed on a few very thin strips of fabric. He lifted one up and held it between his fingers, stretching it between them to get the full view. “This is the greatest day of my life,” he said, staring at the thong.

           “Wade? What the fuck are you doing here?”

           Wade hadn’t even heard Peter come in. He spun around with the underwear still in his hands.

           “Oh my god,” Peter said, turning almost as red as Wade’s suit.

           “You wear thongs?”

           Peter sputtered for a moment. “I – It’s my suit… it’s very tight and – you know – can be very revealing.”

           Wade cocked his head to the side and watched Peter have a tiny meltdown. “I always wondered why your ass was super jiggly.”

           Peter buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, can we not – “

           “But talking about your ass is one of my top three favorite subjects of conversation, baby boy.”

           “Wade…” Peter pushed his fingers up into his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm down. He was still a bit red though. “Why are you in my apartment?”

           Wade shrugged. “I was bored. I thought I’d come see you but you weren’t home.”

           Wade flipped open one of his pouches on his suit and as stealthily as he could pushed the thong into it.

           “Please don’t make a habit of breaking into my place,” Peter said with a heavy sigh. He walked over and opened the same pouch Wade had just stuffed the underwear into. Taking it back, he slipped it into his own pocket. Apparently Wade hadn’t been quite as sneaky as he had hoped. “That is absolutely the last thing I need.”

           “Fine, baby boy, I’ll keep the B&Es to a minimum.”

           “Thank you.”

                                                            ***

           Wade was so distracted the next time he went out on patrol with Peter that he got himself killed. They had been in the middle of stopping a robbery with two guys who had knocked over an ATM. It was just a tiny little killing of getting shot in the head but Peter was very unhappy with him. In Wade’s defense, it was absolutely not his fault. He couldn’t stop looking at Peter’s ass and imagining what he was wearing underneath. Especially now that he’d seen it.

           He woke up back in Peter’s apartment after his brain stitched itself back together. Peter was in the kitchen back in his civvies and looking extremely annoyed. “Back with us then, Wade?”

           Wade groaned and sat up, rubbing the side of the head where the bullet had been. “How long was I dead?”

           “A couple of hours,” Peter responded, bringing Wade a beer even though he looked pissed as hell.

           “Problem, baby?”

           Peter’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Of all the idiotic ways to get yourself killed,” he said, his hands curling into fists.

           “I heal up fine, Petey, there was no reason to be concerned,” Wade said, rolling his mask up and taking a swig from the beer. “Thanks for dragging my sorry ass out of the alley though. Waking up in alleys isn’t my favorite.”

           “Wade, I swear to God – “

           “What’s got you so upset, Petey?” Wade asked, unsure why Peter cared that Wade had kicked the bucket. “I always bounce back.”

           “That’s not the point!” Peter shouted, grabbing Wade and hauling him up to his feet. Wade was so surprised that he dropped his beer and it began spilling over the carpet. “Do you think I like watching people get shot in front of me and being unable to stop it?”

           Suddenly it all made a lot more sense. Uncle Ben had been shot by a mugger. Probably brought up some painful memories for Peter and then Wade had gone and practically done a reenactment for him. Shit.

           “I’m sorry,” Wade said sincerely. “I didn’t think – I didn’t mean to – “

           “Yeah, well you did,” Peter said, releasing Wade and shoving him away.

           “I didn’t know you cared so much about me, baby boy,” Wade said, chewing on his bottom lip. “I would have thought you’d be glad to be rid of me.”

           Peter worked his jaw for a moment, his eyes hard, and Wade knew instantly he’d said the wrong thing. “I don’t want people to die, Wade. Yeah, you drive me crazy some times but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

           “So you do…care?”

           Peter sighed heavily and scrubbed his hand down his face. “Look, I’m kind of wrecked right now. You can stay or not but I need to crash. We can talk about this some other time when I feel a little more ready to answer that.”

           Wade nodded and mimed zipping his lips. Peter immediately went into his bedroom and shut the door. Wade sat in the living room and debated between staying or getting out of Spidey’s hair. Eventually he finished his beer and decided it’d be better for Peter if he made himself scarce.

           He stopped to steal a thong from Peter’s underwear drawer because – well – he couldn’t help himself.

                                                           ***

           Wade took a job in Barbados and didn’t see Peter for a month. He felt like he owed Peter some peace and quiet after their last run-in. It hadn’t exactly been a successful team up and Wade didn’t want Peter to hate him.

           It was his first time back in New York since his hiatus and he was looking for a little action. The job in Barbados had been a lot of surveillance and very little un-aliving people so Wade felt a little restless. He wanted to beat up some baddies and maybe if they were bad enough give them the old katana through the neck.

           He was on the rooftop waiting for any signs of commotion or distress when he heard the unmistakable noise of web shooters. He turned around just in time to see Peter land on the roof behind him.

           “Where have you been?” Peter asked accusingly.

           “Took a job in the Caribbean, you know, have to work on my tan for summer,” Wade quipped, trying to play off how awkward he felt.

           “Oh,” Peter said, rubbing the back of his masked head. “You didn’t mention anything about it the last time we spoke. I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”

           “I was, a little bit,” Wade said, shuffling his feet. Fuck but this was uncomfortable. The last time they had talked it had been some heavy shit.

           “So are you going to give them back or am I going to have to take them by force?” Peter asked, clearly grinning by the stretch of his mask.

           “I have no idea what you’re talking about Petey.”

           “Mmhmm, sure you don’t,” Peter said, walking towards Wade. “I guess force it is then.”

           “I don’t have them on me, baby boy.”

           “Oh but you do have them,” Peter said, confirming his suspicions. Shit, Wade had said too much. “I guess I’ll just have to break into your place and take them back.”

           “You wouldn’t do that,” Wade insisted, taking a step back when Spidey got too close. “You’re a good guy.”

           “You broke into my place,” Peter reminded him, closing the distance between them again. “I think it’s only fair.”

           “Spidey, you woudn’t steal.”

           Peter pulled his mask off. “Well considering they were mine to begin with, it’s more like reclaiming.”

           “I could buy you a new thong, a better thong,” Wade offered, wondering why Peter kept getting so fucking close to him.

           “I don’t need you to buy me underwear, Wade.”

           “Maybe I want to,” Wade shot back.

           “I missed you,” Peter said, reaching up and beginning to roll up Wade’s mask until Wade’s mouth and nose were revealed. “I’ve thought about you a lot over the past month.”

           “Okay, who are you and what have you done with Spidey? Are you an evil clone? An alternate dimension Spidey who lost his marbles?” Wade asked, hating that his fucked up skin was partially on display. He desperately wanted to cover himself back up but Peter must have rolled his mask up for a reason. Besides, Peter had seen him without the mask before. It didn’t mean Wade didn’t feel better with it on, though. “Touched any black goo lately?”

           Peter laughed and shook his head. “Nope, I’m just me.”

           “I don’t believe you.”

           Peter rolled his eyes. “You asked me a month ago if I cared about you,” he said, reaching up and touching Wade’s cheek. “I’ve had an entire month to think about it and I’ve decided the answer is yes. I care about you a whole fucking lot.”

           “Petey…”

           “Wade, for once in your life shut up,” Peter said, closing the gap between them and pressing his lips against Wade’s. Wade couldn’t help the little surprised noise that escaped from his lips.

           He wrapped his arms around Peter and held him close just in case Peter ended up changing his mind. If this was all Wade was getting, he was going to make the most of it. He slid his hands down and gripped Peter’s ass.

           Peter chuckled and broke the kiss. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. “And you better not be planning on going anywhere either.”

           “Are you sure about this, Petey?” Wade asked, still slightly awed that Spider-man was willingly kissing him. “You’ve seen what I’m like when you let me in just a little bit. If you give me more I’m just going to keep taking it.”

           Peter smiled and wrapped his arms around Wade’s neck, pressing in closer to him until they were touching in all the right places. “Then take it.”          

           Wade didn’t need to be told twice. He captured Peter’s lips and proceeded to take and take and take.