#fuck i hate it here so much i need this quarter to end before i do

[mashmouths]

one of my finals just got moved up by a WEEK and when the prof asked if anyone objected i was the only person to raise my hand so he said i could arrange to take it by myself at some point. killing myself.

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

PLEASE MAKE MAKE A FIC WHERE YOUR TRAPPED IN A REALLY CLOSED SPACE W BO

Please I love youuu😫🙏🙏

Tight Quarters||Bo chow x Fem!reader

Explicit MDNI 18+

Word Count—2.2k

Warnings: smut (P in V), fingering, biting, bloodplay, dirty talk, size kink, rough sex, claustrophobia kink, predator/prey dynamics, mild dubcon (reader is into it), power imbalance, vampire teasing, harsh language borderline hate sex

Summary—Locked in a closet with Bo Chow, the vampire who’s been getting under your skin for weeks, things heat up fast. The space is tight, the danger outside is real, and Bo’s not the type to waste an opportunity especially when he can hear how fast your heart’s beating. With nowhere to run and too much unsaid between you, he pushes every button you’ve got until resisting him isn’t even an option.

@abriefnirvana

The storage closet wasn’t supposed to lock from the outside.

You found that out about two seconds too late—just long enough for the heavy metal door to slam shut behind you, locking with a clang that echoed like a gunshot. Now you’re pressed up against the back wall, shelves digging into your spine, and Bo Chow is standing way too close.

Correction he was looming over you.

His tall frame blocks most of the light from the single emergency bulb overhead. Shoulders broad. Arms crossed. Fangs barely hidden behind a smug fucking smirk.

“Cozy,” he says, voice rich and low, eyes flicking over your body like he’s deciding which part to eat first.

You cross your arms tighter. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking about it,” Bo murmurs, stepping forward. The distance between you shrinks fast, suffocating and electric. “Weeks now. Ever since you got blood on my favorite shirt and looked at me like you wanted me to pin you to the wall.”

You scoff, trying not to show the way your thighs clench. “I looked at you like that because I wanted to stake you.”

“Mmhmm.” He tilts his head, tongue flicking over a canine. “Funny how close those looks can be.”

Your back hits the wall. Bo doesn’t touch you yet but he plants one hand beside your head, gaze hungry. The air’s thick with tension. You’re aware of every inch of him. The way his body radiates cold. The way he smells like blood and smoke and something more primal. The way your chest rises and falls faster than it should.

“I’m serious, Bo,” you whisper, trying to ignore how your pulse is hammering. “We’re trapped. This isn’t the time.”

He leans in, lips a whisper from your neck. “Baby, it’s the perfect time.”

You hate the way heat pulses between your legs at the sound of his voice. You hate that he knows it, too.

Because of course he knows. He can hear your heartbeat stuttering, your breath hitching, the way your scent changes. Predator instincts, vampire bullshit. He’s always had the upper hand. But here, now, with you trapped together in a tiny dark closet, he’s playing a different game.

One that ends with you begging.

His hand trails down your side, fingers brushing your waist, your hip, the curve of your thigh. Not touching where you need him. Just letting you know he could.

“You keep pushing me away,” he murmurs, nose dragging along your jaw. “But your body’s honest. Bet if I slipped my hand down those pretty little pants, you’d be soaking for me.”

Your breath hitches.

“Not denying it,” he chuckles darkly. “Want me to prove it?”

You mean to say no. You do.

But what comes out instead was “Do it.”

Bo doesn’t need more than that.

His hand dips under the waistband of your pants hot, fast, greedy. Two fingers slide through your folds and come back slick. His grin turns wicked.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice tight. “You’re so wet for me, sweetheart. Gonna let me play with you?”

You nod before your brain catches up.

And then you’re gasping his fingers circling your clit with slow, devastating pressure, teasing at your entrance but not entering. Your hips roll against his hand, chasing more, but he doesn’t give it. Not yet.

“You’re gonna be good for me, yeah?” Bo growls, pressing you harder against the wall with his body. “Let me have a little taste?”

Your head tips back, baring your neck. That instinct submitting to the monster sends another rush of heat to your core.

He doesn’t bite. Not yet. Just licks a stripe up your throat, cold tongue sending shivers down your spine.

“So fucking sweet,” he mutters. “Gonna fuck you right here. Right up against this wall. Quiet, though—unless you want the hunters to hear you moaning for me.”

You want to tell him to shut up. You want to call him an asshole. But what comes out is a whimper as he sinks two fingers into you, curling just right.

Your knees buckle.

He catches you easily, one arm sliding under your thighs to lift you like you weigh nothing. Your legs wrap around his waist on instinct.

“You’re gonna take me like this, baby,” Bo breathes, grinding against you. “No prep, no warm-up. Just my cock stretching this pretty pussy open.”

You grind back, desperate now. “Then do it.”

That’s all the permission he needs.

You feel the blunt head of his cock press against your entrance, and then he thrusts in, slow but unrelenting. Stretching you wide. Filling you completely. You cry out, biting your lip to muffle the sound. It’s too much, too good, too deep.

“Goddamn,” Bo groans. “You were made for this. Fuck.”

He sets a brutal pace, fucking you against the wall like a man possessed. The slap of skin, the wet sounds, the little noises you can’t suppress—it all echoes in the tiny space, obscene and delicious.

His fangs graze your throat, and this time, when he bites, it’s gentle a nick. Just enough for blood to leak.

Bo groans like it’s his last meal.

“Gonna cum for me?” he whispers, licking the wound, still fucking you deep and hard. “Gonna squeeze me tight and soak my cock like a good girl?”

Your whole body trembles. The pressure coiling in your belly snaps all at once white heat flooding you as you cum around him, gasping into his shoulder.

Bo doesn’t last much longer. A few more thrusts and he’s spilling inside you, groaning your name like a curse, like a prayer.

For a moment, there’s only ragged breath and your pulse in your ears.

Then Bo pulls back, still buried inside you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“You’re lucky I like tight spaces,” he murmurs, lips quirking.

You slap his chest, breathless. “Asshole.”

He grins wide, eyes glowing faintly red in the dark. “You love it.”

And maybe you do but you weren’t going to say anything about that.

[justmeinadaze]

Curiosity (Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: When I tell you that this did things to me...omg.

I was going to do a one shot but there's a few stories to tell with this two (and I love them already so bleh!)

There is a small glimpse into future steddie activity ;)

I dedicate this to the older girlies looking for their own Eddie Munson <3

Warnings: Younger (Early 20s) Daddy (kinda camboy) Eddie & Older (early 30s) Plus Size Sub Fem Y/N, SMUT, SO MUCH dirty talk <3, daddy kink (cause I'm me), praise, semi-public (back of his van), big dick Eddie Munson, squirting, etc. FLUFF, these two work together and talk about being each others "work spouses".

ANGST, Y/N stumbles upon Eddie's "second job" on OnlyFans, struggles with the notion of telling him, reader (like myself) makes jokes about being older, weight doesn't play a factor in here and its barely mentioned. Eddie does say how beautiful and sexy he thinks her body is. I think that's it.

The main angst here is her stumbling onto his account and not telling him.

Word Count: 7874

Donate to Me <3

"Yeah, she's got those pretty eyes

But behind them lies

Thoughts of him at night she can't seem to fight

Feelings that she knows she's gonna have to feed"

You hated call center work but it paid alright and it was something you could do while you worked towards your goals of becoming something more. While the work and customers were tedious, the environment wasn’t too bad. Your manager was a sweet girl a little younger than you and the company did a bit more for its employees than the typical “You did well this quarter. Here’s a pizza party.”

Your head falls on to your desk as you hang up the phone after one of the rudest customer experiences in your life. 

A slight draw back was, like your manager, a lot of the coworkers around you were younger, ranging from just graduating high school to their mid-twenties. Listening to most of these kids talk made you feel old as hell which is part of the reason you connected to the boy on the opposite side of your cubicle. 

While Eddie Munson was in his early twenties, he had a slightly older soul. When he wasn’t talking to you or anyone else, he had hair metal playing in his headphones and even had that long, wild hair to match. He talked about things you remembered growing up with fondly as if he was born around the same time and when you questioned him about it, he just said he was “raised right.”

“Fun chat?”, he teased as he leaned back in his seat.

“Exciting!”, you mumbled into your arm that your head was resting on. 

Eddie’s warm laugh filled your ears as his palm extended out to rub your back. 

“I know, sweetheart. These fucking people can be real pricks sometimes.”

“Edward Munson.”

“Mrs. Angela.”

“Language. Just because you aren’t on the phone doesn’t mean people can’t hear you on the other end.”

You laughed as you sat up, meeting his radiate grin as he chuckles. 

“Yes ma’am, Mrs. Angela. I apologize for the foul mouth I was born with.”

Your manager mumbles a soft mhmm and he continues to smile as he leans in closer to speak at a much softer volume. 

“Don’t let these people walk all over you. Remember, they need your help.”, he winks before lightly poking your nose. 

As the day came to a close and you both walked out together, you asked him what his plans were for the evening and he responded the same way he always did. 

“Um, probably going to put in some hours at my second job. I want to put in more recording time this weekend and the fucking manager at the studio is demanding we put down payments before we can use the equipment. It’s fucking stupid. I mean it’s not like we’re taking the stuff home.”

“One day, you’ll have to let me hear you play.”, you smile his way as you throw your things into your car. 

“And one day you’ll finally accept my invitation to come see us play on stage.”, he grins as he opens your car door and rests his chin on the top while he watches you put your things away. 

“I think I’m too old to be hanging out in a bar.”, you giggle. 

“Says who? Definitely not me because if I met a pretty lady like you at The Hideout she’d never go home alone again.”

Eddie’s smile widens and he sticks out his tongue through his teeth as you roll your eyes. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, weirdo.”

“Bye, babe.”

After he closed your door, your eyes followed him as he pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit the end on his way to his van. 

He really was a good man and utterly adorable. People in the office called him your work husband which gave you secondhand embarrassment till he himself began playing into the role. 

“Hey now Mrs. Angela, don’t talk to my work wife that way. Don’t worry, baby girl, I got your back.”, he joked with the manager as he slid his arm around your shoulders. 

Eddie made you laugh constantly and when you had a hard day, he was your sound board allowing you to vent. A part of you felt guilty because he seemed to know more about you than you did about him besides the fact that he wanted to be a rockstar. 

You genuinely did want to hang out with him outside of work but the insecure part of you couldn’t help but always wonder why he’d even want to spend his free time with someone your age when he could be giving his attention to any of the slimmer, more attractive women his own age. 

The sound of him slamming his car door brought you back into the moment as you pushed your gear into reverse and sped to your home. 

***

“Hey, can I use your laptop to watch a movie in bed?”, you ask your roommate as her heels click along the floor behind where you were sitting on the sofa. 

“Seriously? That’s what you’re doing with your Thursday night?”

“Relaxing after a long day at the office? Yes, Kelsey.”

“Why don’t you go out on a date or something?”

“So is that a yes or…?”

Your roommate sighs as she scurries somewhere before she wiggles the device in your peripherals and you thank her. 

“Don’t judge me when you open it. I was watching this sexy guy on Only Fans. Hot damn.”, she swooned making you laugh as she quickly hugged you and hurried towards the door. “I love you! Don’t wait up for me!”

Shaking your head, you take her laptop and throw yourself on your mattress as you flip it open. 

Images of cute people caught your attention and you couldn’t stop yourself as you nonchalantly began to browse. You had never signed up for one of these let alone really knew anything about the platform besides the obvious. You weren’t a prude by any means, you had just never gone down avenues like this.

There were probably millions of people on this site… so the chances of your eyes landing on a face you knew had to be astronomical.

Yet as you clicked a “featured” link, a face you very much recognized appeared front and center. 

Eddie or as the name read, EddietheBanished, was smirking up at the camera with his upper torso bare showing off all the muscle you were completely unaware he had.

You should have let it go; respected his boundaries and closed the browser but it was like autopilot moved you as you clicked his link.

There he was.

The metalhead was sitting at a desk in what you assumed was his bedroom with his head hanging and hair in front of his face as he strummed his guitar. Shaking his mane, his gorgeous eyes met the camera before that sexy smile painted his lips. 

“I see a lot of new ‘faces.’ Welcome. I’m a nice guy I swear. I’ll be getting started here in a minute so take your time, relax, get comfy.”

You immediately backed out and slammed the computer shut, powerwalking into your kitchen to get a glass of wine. 

“No, no Y/N. He’s your friend and your coworker. Don’t invade that boundary. Don’t…”

As you took a sip of your beverage, you glared at the device that felt like it was taunting you from your bed. 

“Maybe…I can make my own account and just…see what he does. Maybe he just plays guitar without his shirt on. People do that right?”

Sitting back down, you reopened the laptop and logged out of your roommates account, selecting to create your own. 

“Name…name…I need a name…”

Um CurvyCorporateMillennial.

“God that’s dumb.”, you sigh at your internal thought as you upload a picture of a random flower as your profile pic and search for his name after you set everything set up. 

“Alright, friends, you know the drill. You get an hour to ask me questions and tip if you wish. The private group session will begin after.”

Over the course of the hour, you listened to him talk about music and his instrument, strumming along to random songs you definitely recognized, making you smile as you watched his fingers moved. Eddie was incredibly charming, replying off every innuendo with something cute or sassy in return. You enjoyed the regular answers more than anything as he came out of his shell a bit differently than he did at work. 

“Yeah, a lot of these tattoos I got because I had the money and I wanted it.”, he chuckled. “But this one here… I got for Master of Puppets and that album. Do you guys know who sings that?”

“Metallica.”

“Damn…CurvyCorporateMillennial answered that quick. Good girl.”, he chuckles making you smirk before you internally panic. 

“Shit. How am I the only one who answered that, that fast?”

“My mom and my uncle really loved all kinds of music. Inspired me to learn to play…”, he sighed as his eyes went a bit glassy. 

Your heart broke for him as you listened to the sad tone in his voice, wondering if something happened there. He never talked about his parents but to be fair you also never asked. 

“You play very well.”

A soft smile spread across his lips as he winked at the camera causing you to bite your own lip at how fucking sexy the action genuinely was. 

“Alright, we’re nearing the end of this hour. It was nice talkin’ to you guys. To my special group, I will see you in about five minutes. I hope to see you there to, Millennial.”

With that he turned off his stream, leaving you dumbfounded as you stared at your screen. 

“No…there’s no way he was talking to me. There have to other people with Millennial in their name… Y/N, you’ve been here long enough and you even engaged. You need to back away now.”

The entire time you went on the hunt for your credit card, you had that debate with yourself, down to the last minute and point you hit enter. 

When the new room opened, he was smiling at the camera as if he had been waiting just for you before they flicked down to the monitor in front of him. Instead of having a guitar in his lap, the metalhead displayed his palm absently rubbing his crotch through his sweats.

“Hey, guys. Thank you for your time and money. This is where the conversation gets fun.”, Eddie chuckles. “Ask away.”

“I shouldn’t be here.”

You can’t see anything displayed on the screen but you can see the reflection of words glisten within his chocolate eyes. 

“Aha, no. No, Steve tonight. I did ask but he said he’s incredibly busy this week…Ok, JulieGirl, I’ll let him know you miss him. Shit, I miss him to. Man definitely knows how to leave me a mumbling mess… Yeah? You’d sit on Daddy’s cock?”

“F-Fuck me.”, you panted, completely frozen as you watched him reach into his pants and take out his dick to spit over his tip, stroking it along his shaft. 

You had never thought about Eddie intimately like that but seeing him wrap his large palm around his girth had your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“Fuck, no, wrong!”, you shout as you close the browser and slam the laptop closed. 

##################

“Hey, sweetheart.”, Eddie murmured while his hand rubbed along your back as he flopped down in his seat beside you. This was an action he did everyday which is why he was startled when you gasped and jumped in your chair. “Whoa! You alright, honey? Too much coffee?”, he joked, nervous when you didn’t laugh.

“I’m fine.”, you replied curtly, choosing to focus on your computer in front of you. 

For the rest of the day, you avoided his gaze and kept your head down to work. During your lunch you two would usually sit together but today when he asked if you wanted to go anywhere, you declined and gestured towards your monitor.  

As soon as he clocked out, you waited for him to exit the floor, clocking out as well before following. You hid when you noticed him waiting for the elevator, counting to 30 after he got on and the door closed before pressing the button to ride your own. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as you prayed you’d miss him coming back in, your eyes widening in surprise when the elevator door opened and Eddie was leaning against the opposite wall. 

“Hey, um, oh fuck. I forgot something—”

As the doors began to close again, the metalhead took long strides forward and his palm loudly smacked against the bumpers causing them to slowly open once more. 

“Did I do something to make you mad?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Did I say something or do something to offend you?”

“Pfft, Eddie, what are talking about?”, you reply as nonchalantly as possible while stepping around his broad frame and heading for the parking lot. 

“Oh, come off it, Y/N. You’ve barely said two words to me and now you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you—”

“Just tell me what I did wrong—!”, he shouts as he reaches for your bicep to get you to slow down but pauses when you abruptly turn and glare his way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…grab you… I just…I don’t like this…you treating me like most of the people in this fucking town.”

“Huh?”, you inquire, genuinely confused. 

“Shit. I forget you’re not from here sometimes. Um, let’s just say I don’t have many friends. I know we don’t really hang out outside of the building but I like talking to you. It would seriously break my heart if you never spoke to me again.”

Your own heart cracked hearing the sincerity in his voice as his gaze shifted to his feet like a nervous kid. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything. I’m just…I have a lot on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”, he asks. “As your work husband it’s my duty to hear about my work wife’s woos.” As you laugh at his joke, a sigh of relief leaves his chest. 

“No, I’ll be alright.”

“Ok…may I buy you lunch, my lady?”

***

You exhaled as you got home and threw yourself flat on your bed, exhausted from the day and your constant thoughts about what you had seen the night before. 

You considered just telling him what you saw but you didn’t want to embarrass him nor did you want to come off like some kind of pervert. You knew he had a “second job” but you never asked what it was mostly because you didn’t want to pry. 

He seemed so hurt today when you ignored him and it didn’t help that you were now pent up, needing a release after hearing him talk the way he had. 

Your phone dinged and originally you ignored it, thinking it was most likely your roommate who was letting you know that she got to work safely like she always did being that she worked a late-night shift at one of the restaurants nearby. 

When you finally looked at the screen, you were surprised to see a notification from the OnlyFans account. 

Your private session with EddietheBanished starts in five minutes.

“Huh? I didn’t…”

Once again you debated with you internal self as you got to your feet and headed to grab your roommate’s device. 

“I can log in and just tell him ‘Hey it’s Y/N. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have clicked on your thing…’ Yeah…Ok, Y/N.”

As soon as you opened the browser and signed in, you made sure the camera was off as you entered the session link sent to you. 

“Hey, Millennial.”, Eddie’s sultry voice cooed as he smiled at the screen. “I hope it’s alright. I scheduled this session here. I noticed you left the group thing before it really started and since you paid for it, I thought it only fair to do this so you don’t feel like you wasted your money.”

Your face softened at his kind confession as you sighed and began to type. 

“You didn’t have to do that. You seem very sweet. I wouldn’t have felt like I wasted my money at all.”

“Aw, thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate that. May I ask why you left so abruptly?”

“I…”

“It felt wrong.”

The metalhead blinked as he nodded and leaned back in his chair as his palm absently rubbed his tummy, the action in itself filling your own stomach with little butterflies. 

“You’re not an OnlyFans normal, are you, honey?”

“Not really no. I was borrowing my roommate’s laptop and when I opened it I saw your face. I got curious.”

“It’s alright to be curious. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I seem to be unintentionally doing that.”, he chuckles causing your head to tilt. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear about my problems.”

“No, please. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just… I work at this boring ass job during the day but the only person that keeps me sane seemed upset at me today…kinda scared me. My coworkers call her my work wife.” 

“I’m sure she just had a lot on her mind.”

“Hm, that’s what she said but…she doesn’t really talk to me about her personal life. I hope everything is ok. I invite her out sometimes but she always declines…says she’s ‘too old’.”, he laughs as he shakes his head. 

The two of you casually talked for what felt like minutes before you glanced at your phone and realized it had actually been over four hours. Eddie opened up to you, talking about his family especially his uncle, his dreams of being a rock & roll legend, and things he enjoyed like D & D. 

“I know absolutely nothing about that game! Lol. I wish I did though. It seems like fun.”

“Oh, baby, it is. Maybe you’ll let me teach you one day…see that pretty face behind the flower…”

“Pfft, how do you know my face is pretty? Lol.”

“Because how can a gorgeous soul like yours not be gorgeous.”

Eddie’s words gave you pause as your breath caught in your throat. He had said it with so much confidence to that you couldn’t help but physically hide behind your hands.

“I hope I’m not being too forward. I don’t mean to make you nervous or anything.”

“No…you don’t make me nervous…I think you’re just wasting that charm on someone my age.”

“Hm, well, I may be younger but I can still be Daddy.”

As he winks at the camera and smiles your whole body comes to life. 

“Eddie…there’s something I should tell you…”

“Did I move to fast? I’m sorry. It’s so weird but I feel like I’ve known you for years, you know? Fuck, probably sounds like a line.”

His hair moves from side to side as he shakes him head in shame and laughs making you laugh along with him. 

“It does but that’s alright. I’ve never done anything like this before. Not just the whole online thing but…the Daddy thing… God, that sounds so stupid.”

“No, no, baby, you don’t sound stupid. May I ask, sweetheart…did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“Hearing me refer to myself that way; as Daddy.”

“Yes.”

Eddie’s smile stretches across his face as he bites his bottom lip and leans back in his seat. 

“I wish I could see you. I’m picturing you like blushing and being all giggly. Fuck, the thought of seeing you like that turns me on.”

Your breath shakes at his words as your thighs rub together. 

“You’ve spent so much time talking and getting to know me, baby, I’d like to return the favor.”

“How?”

Scooting his chair a bit closer to the camera, he adjusts his body so you can see more of his lap and chest. 

“How’s this, sweetheart? Got a good view?”

“I can’t see your face very well.”

You vaguely catch it as his cheeks turn a bright crimson and he smirks as he messes with the camera once more so you can see all his face a bit better. 

“Most people on here want to see my abs or my cock.”

“With partners, I like seeing their eyebrows scrunch together or their mouth fall open.”

“Hear that whimper most men try to hide under their heavy breaths.”

“Fuck me, honey. You definitely have a way with words. I like it. What, um, damn, you threw me a bit off my groove there.”, he chuckles as his palm rubs up his pec and over his opposite shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Maybe…we can talk next weekend. I can schedule the session myself this time. 

“Would it be too forward if I asked for your phone number? I’d love to talk with you through the week.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Eddie.”

“Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

####################

You tried so many times to tell him about finding his account and how you were the girl he spoke with that Friday night, you really did. But the longer you waited, the harder it became. 

When he came in that Monday morning, Eddie had a different glow about him as he lightly tugged your hair and said hello. 

The week went by like normal and you spent every day hyping yourself up, finally deciding you would tell him on Saturday after surprising him by seeing him play at The Hideout. You figured he’d be in such a good mood that you showed up to see him, maybe he wouldn’t be so angry after you told him the truth. 

When you opened the bar entrance door, you were met with loud blaring music and a lot of young voices chatting over the music. Mumbling small apologies, you pushed past people to find a table near the stage hoping you’d be able to catch his eyeline so Eddie knew you were there. 

Lucky for you, they were already on stage preparing their equipment so you hastily snuck to the corner and called his name. When his chocolate eyes met yours, he smiled wide before seeming to freeze as he took you in. 

You weren’t sure what was normal for bar attire so you went with a green spaghetti strap dress with matching heels and light make up to accentuate your features. 

“Hey! I hope I’m not distracting you. I just wanted you to know—”

“Hey, no. No, no. You’re not…distracting me…”, Eddie interrupted as he jumped down from the stage to give you a hug. 

Fuck, he smelled amazing.

“Wow, sweetheart, you look gorgeous. I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”

“I wasn’t sure what was normal or…”

“Pfft, fuck normal.” As his eyes continued to run along your face, you both seemed to realize he hadn’t taken his arms off your waist after your embrace. “Fuck…I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. Usually, I’m a lot smoother than this.”

“Are you?”, you tease causing his grin to reappear as he takes a step back and pokes your nose. 

“There’s my work wife I know and love. Alright, I have to finish getting ready but please stay afterward and let me buy you a drink, ok?”

***

“Eddie, oh my God, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play like that!”, you continued to compliment as he laughed, chugging back another bottle of beer in his grasp.

“Thank you, baby. Now, if you could advocate for us to get more record time so we can actually get something out.”

“Whatever you need. Do you have a shirt or maybe I can get a tattoo on my forehead.”

You giggle as he laughs and shakes his head. 

“No, Y/N. Would be a shame to damage a gorgeous face like yours.”, Eddie smirks as you bite your lip. 

“So, did your mom teach you to play guitar like that or did your uncle?”

The metalhead blinks, slightly taken aback. 

“What would make you say that? My mom or my uncle and not like my dad?”

“Oh, um, we’ve talked about your uncle before and you’ve never really mentioned your father so I just assumed… I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry.”, he sighs as his gaze shifts to the table.  “My mom got me into music but my uncle taught me to play my guitar. My dad taught me other bullshit like how to hot wire a car and how to spend the rest of your life in prison.”

Your heart breaks for him and on impulse you lean your head on his shoulder as you place your palm over his.

“Yeah, this is why I don’t usually talk about myself.”

“You can always talk to me, Eddie.”

The man smiles softly as he lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulders and pull you closer to his side. 

“I’m glad you came, Y/N. It was nice seeing you out here bobbing your head and cheering for me.”

You laugh as he tilts his head against yours and his hand slides from your shoulder down your bicep. 

“I’m your wife. I thought it was about time to come see my husband play his loud records for the youngens.”

Eddie’s throat vibrates as he chuckles through his teeth but you barely notice as you nuzzle your nose into his neck and inhale the smell of his cologne. 

“You always talk like you were born in 1943 or something.”

“Psh, my body makes me feel that way sometimes.”

“Now why do I doubt that? With a body like yours, honey, I bet you feel better than any of these other girls.”

Leaning your head back, your eyes lock with his as your hand comes up to rest on his cheek so your thumb can caress his bottom lip. 

Just as his mouth is about to press to yours, you gasp as you push away from him. 

“Oh my God…Eddie…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

As he watches you panic, confusion floods his face and freezes him in place until you hurriedly push out the front door. Before you make it to your car, a ringed palm grabs your arm, pushing your back against an adjacent van as he crashes his lips to yours. 

It was a messy kiss but fuck did it taste fucking good. 

Pressing his forehead against yours, he allowed you both a moment to catch your breath as his tall, broad frame kept you boxed in.

“Please, Y/N. I want this…I want you…I want to feel you…”, Eddie whispered as his mouth ghosted your neck to your ear and your eyes rolled shut at the sound. “I want to taste you and hear all the noises you make, baby.”

“F-Fuck…Daddy…”

“Uh my God.”, he breathily panted as his hand absently reached for the door handle and opened the back. “It’s ok…this is mine…I promise.”

The metalhead didn’t even wait for a response as he lifted you by your waist and placed you inside, shutting the door behind him. 

As you crawled backwards further into the back of his van, he hastily climbed up your body to attach his mouth to yours again. Placing his knee between your legs, you took advantage desperate for friction to relieve the ache making you dizzy with need. 

“That’s it, baby girl, use Daddy’s leg. Fuck, I can feel how wet you are.”

Your fists grabbed at his shirt as you moaned against his lips. 

“Are you gonna cum, sweetheart? What a desperate little thing.”

The rhythm of your hips hastened as your grip on him tightened and your back arched as the coil snapped. 

“Good, good girl. Fuck.”

As his mouth attached to your throat, your fingers reached between you two and sloppily fumbled with his belt as he reached back to help you pull his pants just below his ass. 

“Holy shit.”, he whispered as your palm took hold of his incredibly hard cock and moved the cotton blocking your core to the side to allow him entry. “Fuck, baby.”

Your arms came around to cling to his shoulders as his head fell into your nook and he set a steady pace.

“Oh my God, Eddie…your dick is so big…” He grunted at your words as he rolled his hips, pushing his length as deep as your pussy would allow and then some. “I’ve never…I’ve had anyone so… fuck…”

“Tell me, honey, please.” When you don’t immediately respond, he lifts his head to kiss you. “You can do it, beautiful.”

“I-I’ve never had anyone so deep.”

“Fuck, baby girl. Tell Daddy how you want me to make you cum again. Do you want it slow?”, he asks as he gradually pulls all the way back till it’s just his tip before thrusting back into you. “Or do you want it fast and hard?”

“Faster, please.”, you beg as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Eddie does what you ask, his head falling again as he roughly pounds into your cunt. Your fingers tangle in his hair and his own palm slides behind your back, holding you to him as your body trembles and your pussy squeezes him like a vice as you cum. 

“Shit…good, baby. Fuck, you choke my dick when you cum…so fucking tight…where do you want my cum, honey.”

“In-Inside, Eddie, please.”

He started to lift his head to make sure you were sure, but your hand kept him against your throat as you rolled your hips to meet his eliciting a loud grunt from him as his mouth fell open.

His whole frame collapsed on top of you as his pace faltered and you felt his release paint your walls. The strangled groan followed by his heavy pants were the sexiest things you had ever heard and as you lazily turned to look at his face his mouth was waiting. 

Compared to his other kisses, this one was much more tender. 

A soft kiss between two people who had known each other and been friends for a long time. When he pulled back, his chocolate eyes met your irises as his fingers caressed your cheek. 

After a few moments, he silently pulled out of you, kissing your forehead when you winced before crawling towards his glove box and rifling through it. 

“Shit. I thought I had tissues… Ok, um, let me grab some napkins real quick from inside and then…if you’re up to it…maybe we can go to the diner and have some dinner…talk?”

You nod, smiling as he fumbles with his own pants and belt while almost falling out of his van before catching himself on the door. 

“Fucking shit! Uh, I swear I’m more, uh, graceful than that…ok, I’ll be right back.”

################

Eddie was an absolute gentleman that night; taking you to dinner where you got to know him a bit better. Afterward, he drove you home and walked you to your door with a smile that you returned with a soft kiss. 

After closing your door, you looked through the peephole to find him beaming wide before throwing his hands in the air in victory and heading back to this car. 

You dreamt about his arms around you and thought about him all morning, the subtle soreness between your legs a constant reminder. 

“Hey. Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you and I hope you’re feeling ok. I have to work tonight for a bit but maybe after I can call and we can talk?”

You smiled at his text before the realization hit you that his “work” was the website and he still had no idea you were one of the accounts he was talking to. As if to emphasis that a point, a notification flashed on your screen reminding you that you had a session scheduled with Eddie the Banished later that evening. 

Opening the computer, you sat there preparing your speech and apology, ready to tell him everything but when his face illuminated your screen it gave you pause. Before when you saw him online, he usual had on just sweats or boxers but this time he was wearing a long sleeve shirt with a Dio album on the front. 

Still donning black sweats, he had his hair pulled up and out of his face making you smile. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I hope it’s ok but I need your advice.”

“You want my advice?”

“Yeah. You seem incredibly smart and with our last conversation I know you’re easy to talk to.”

As Eddie grinned nervously, you couldn’t help but blush as your fingers flew along the keyboard.

“How can I help?”

“Ok, so I was playing my show last night and this girl…woman…I work with finally showed up to see me. I’ve been asking her for months to come and each time she said she couldn’t for one reason or another. Usually because she said she was ‘to old’.”, he laughs, rolling his eyes. “She’s not. She’s probably the same age as you since she’s a Millennial to but anyway… I loved seeing her come out of her shell, you know? She danced in her seat and headbanged; it was so fucking cute.”

As his smile grew at the thought you bit your bottom lip at the sight. 

“After the show, things got…intimate… and, um, so I guess my question is…how do I tell her about this?”, he asks as he gestures towards his computer and camera. “I don’t want her to think I’m like…a whore or something. I do this for the money because call centers pay their fucking employees jack shit. Add in the fact that I still kind of need to do it because my band and I are SO close to finishing this record but I don’t want her to be uncomfortable or feel like I’m cheating or something. I’m not my dad… I don’t fucking know…”

“Honey.”, you type as he covers his face with his palms. “Breathe. It’s ok. The fact that you’re even thinking of all this I’m sure will mean a lot to her. Eddie, I have to tell you something.”

“I just don’t want to lose her. No one has ever made me feel the way she does. At work I get a glimpse of what a relationship with her would be like and I love it. She’s so funny and sweet. Whenever she’s frustrated, her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk and she sighs like she wants to throw her computer out the window. When she smiles, the entire room lights up. She’s so beautiful, you have no idea.”

“Have you told her any of this?”

“Before last night I didn’t think I stood a chance. In my hometown, people don’t exactly like me. The Munson name carries a lot of weight because of my dad. He conned so many people here and add in the fact that I grew up in a trailer… they see me as trash. It would kill me if she saw me the same way. 

“No, Eddie. She would never think that.”

“Then she makes jokes a lot about her age and sometimes I get worried that she’d see me as like a kid or something. I’m highly aware that a man her own age could probably give her way more than I ever could but… I don’t know. Maybe if she can call me Daddy like she did…she can see me as someone who can take care of her because I will, honey. I don’t care what I have to do.”

“Sounds like you already know what you have to do :). Just talk to her, baby. She… she may surprise you herself.”

“She surprised the hell out of me last night. When she called me Daddy, I almost fucking came in my jeans. I’m sorry. Don’t mean to be crude.”, he grins as he sticks out his tongue towards the camera. 

“It’s ok lol So it was good? The intimacy?”

Eddie’s gaze shifts off camera as his teeth drag along his bottom lip. 

“We’re friends right?”

“Of course.”

“It was the best I’ve ever had, Millennial. Fuck, her lips tasted amazing. I can only imagine what her pussy tastes like. Shit… It happened so fast I wasn’t able to take my time with her but next time… I’m going take her on a date Friday if she says yes. I want to take her to dinner and really make her feel special. She deserves that. Then I’m going to explore her gorgeous body till she’s begging me to stop.”

 Your thighs rubbed together at his words as that similar ache between your legs lit a fire in your belly. 

Without thinking about it, you grabbed your phone and texted his number. 

“Eddie when will you be free??”

Instantly, you heard vibration on his side of the stream and watched as he leaned forward to grab his device. As he smiled down at the screen, you felt your need for him rise as you watched his long, thick fingers fly along the phone’s keyboard. 

What is it about this man that has you feeling like this?

“I can be free now. Why? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just…”

“Do you think you could come over?”

“Hey, uh, Millennial, I have to go but I’ll keep you updated. Maybe next time you can give me your number and we can keep in touch. I may need more advice!”

Your brain is too foggy to register how that will be a problem later as you type out your goodbyes and he signs off. A moment later, another text from him comes through to your phone. 

“Yeah, I can be there in ten minutes. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I need Daddy.”

The three dots flash on you screen for a millisecond before he replies, “I’m on my way, baby.”

***

Eddie’s fist barely has a chance to knock before you’re opening your apartment door and tugging him inside by his collar, roughly bringing his lips to yours. 

“Ro-Roommate?”, he asks as his eyes briefly notice the two bedrooms. 

“Work…works…overnight…”, you answer between passionate kiss as you tug off his leather jacket and he lifts up your shirt tossing it aside. “Need you…please…”

“I got you, sweetheart. Daddy can take care of you.”

You practically melt into his embrace, backing him into the living room wall and yanking off his shirt so you could drag your lips down his chest as you start to descend to your knees before he grabs your arm.

“No, no, honey. I said Daddy is taking care of you.” With one swift turn he spun you around, placing his palm beside your head to steady himself. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Can I taste you, baby? 

Eddie smirks when you emphatically nod and places a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“Can you say it?”, he whispers. “Tell me what you want.”

His eyes stay on yours as he slowly falls to his knees and his palms reach up to pull down your underwear till you were completely naked. While his lips gently pecked along your belly, your own hand reached out to pet his head. 

“I want you to feel your t-tongue in my pussy.”

As his smile grows, Eddie abruptly lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and dives into your cunt, doing what you requested. With every flick of the muscle between his teeth, you felt yourself falling deeper into euphoria. This metalhead definitely knew what he was doing and reveled in it as his tongue roamed. 

“Oh…Oh my God, Eddie. Just like that…” 

Your fingers pressed him harder against you and his moan vibrated through you at the sensation. As he picked up his pace, his mouth overwhelmed you as he sucked and made out with your clit till he felt your body quiver as you came. 

Rising to his feet, you circled your arms around his neck as he slid his middle and ring fingers inside of you trying to elongate your high. 

“I knew it. I knew you tasted like fucking heaven. Fuck, such a good girl.”

After pushing down his sweats, you licked your palm and wrapped it around his girth, his glassy eyes fluttering at the feeling. 

Eddie’s free hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could see your face. 

“Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, pretty girl. I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard on my cock. Goddamn, I keep thinking about how tight your little pussy gets when she cums. Fuck, baby, you drive me crazy.”

You suddenly let him go as your hand flew down to grab his wrist trying to push him away as you whined.

“No, no, sweetheart. Don’t run from it. Daddy’s got you. Give in to it. I’m right here.” At his murmured words, you continued to cling to him as your hips rolled against his fingers. “Atta girl. I know, I know. Cum again for Daddy, baby.”

A string of uhs left your lips as his eyes remained glued to your face and your nails dug into his skin as the coil snapped. 

“Goddamn, you are so fucking sexy.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle as his mouth latched onto your neck and you carefully guided him to your bedroom while tried to stumble out of his pants. 

“Motherfuck—I swear I can walk.”, he jokes as you both fall naked onto your bed. 

“Well, only if your pants are on correctly.”

Eddie laughs as he pushes up on his forearms to look down at your beaming features. Your index finger gradually extends to caress his cheek and along his chin, grazing the light stubble that clung to his skin. 

“You’re handsome.”

At your compliment, his jaw flexes as he tries to contain the obnoxiously huge smile that wants to stretch from ear to ear at your adorable tone. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I mean it. I always thought you were.”

“Yeah?” You nod, biting your bottom lip to contain your own smile. “You want to know a secret?”

“Hm?”

Eddie crawls a bit further up your frame, gently kissing your jawline till he finds the shell of your ear. 

“I always thought you were beautiful to, baby.”

Utilizing his knee, he pushes your legs further apart as he grinds his cock between your dripping pussy lips but before he could guide himself inside of you, your hand lightly pushed on his hip as you gently pulled his hair. 

His face flooded with concern as his eyes scanned you over. 

“I want to see your face this time, Daddy…Please…”

A relieved chuckle left him; thankful you were ok. 

“You’re going to kill me, honey.”

Licking his lips, you watch as Eddie’s eyes momentarily shifted to the void as he reached between your bodies and pressed his mushroom tip to your entrance. When his irises found yours again, he brought his arm back around and tenderly petted your head as he slowly thrust his cock inch by inch. 

“You’re doing good, baby girl…taking me so he well.”, he praised when he noticed your eyebrows twitch in what appeared to be pain. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Do you need me to go slower?”

“No…No, Daddy. You’re… you’re just…”

“Yeah? Just what, princess?”

“You’re so big.”

“I know, baby, I know but you’re doing so good. I’m almost all the way in.”

“Y-You can…you can go harder…you d-don’t have to be so—fuck—gentle.”

Eddie stops moving for a moment as he smirks down at you before suddenly smacking his hips into yours eliciting a loud moan from deep within you. 

“Like that?”, he teases as he pounds into you again. “I told you…Daddy’s got you.”

Finding a faster rhythm, he kept his intensity as he repeatedly abuses that sensitive, spongy spot deep within you that has your mind reeling. 

Pushing upright onto his knees, the metalhead pressed your thighs flat into the mattress as he watched himself disappear inside your cunt. 

“Shit—your pussy feels too fucking good. Cum again, Y/N. Cum on Daddy’s dick, baby.”

“Something…something’s different…”

Eddie slows for a fraction of a second before he realizes what’s about to happen. 

He sees it all over you scrunched face. 

Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit as he keeps a steady pace. Again, your hand tries to grab at his wrist but he’s much stronger than you as your movements don’t deter him. 

“It’s ok, sweetheart. Daddy’s right here, baby. Just let it happen.”

A wave of pleasure stronger than you had ever experienced before washes over you as the ball in your tummy drops and you scream his name. 

“Atta girl! Fuck, Y/N.”, he groans, his thrusts faltering as he pumps his release deep inside you. “Fuck…it’s ok…you’re ok.”, he pants. “I’ve…I’ve never made a girl squirt before.”

It took him a moment but it was only then that he realized you were crying. 

“Hey. Hey, hey, what’s wrong, baby. Talk to me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you hug him and he continues to try and comfort you. “Everything’s alright, Y/N.”

“I-I-I’ve never done that before. I…ruined the moment…”

“Oh, honey, no. No, you didn’t ruin anything.”, Eddie cooed as he moved back to allow you to sit up and he could wipe your eyes with his thumbs. “What just happened was incredibly fucking hot.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, beautiful girl, it was. I’m honored to be the first guy to make you cum hard like that. I mean…of course being your husband only IIII can do that…”

At his joke, you laugh as you reach out to lightly hit his bicep as he giggles along with you. 

“How about this? Let’s get you into a bath and all clean, then I can change the sheets and get you in some nice comfy pajamas.”

“Will…will you lay with me after?”

Caressing your cheek, he leans towards you to gently kiss your lips. 

“Of course.”

After your bath, Eddie gave you some alone time to complete any needs you felt you needed to complete before bed and as soon as you were done, you stepped out of your bathroom to find him just finishing making the bed.

“I hope this is alright. I found these sheets in a closet in the hallway.”

“These are actually my roommates.”

“Oh… well…sheet.”, he jests, smiling when you breathy laugh. “Sorry, bad joke.”

“I like it.”

Stepping towards him, you grab his arm and push him under the covers so you could curl up into his side. Lifting his arm, he circles it around your shoulder and you pleasantly sigh as he plays with your hair. 

“At some point, sweetheart, we’re going to have to talk about this…us…”

“Is that bad?”

“No, fuck, I made it sound like it was going to be. I just…there’s some things I need you to know…about me…my life—”

Your palm cuts him off as your eyes meet his. 

“Later. Tonight, I just want to be close to you like this.”

“Yeah…”, he sighs before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. “Me to.”

###################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @twirls827 @micheledawn1975 @chelebelletx @hardladyheart @spiderxbatty @twirls827

[revelboo]

I love how instantly protective Rumble is in Alcohol Eyes. He’s very open about what he wants especially compared to the other Decepticons. He knows he likes this human and he’s willing to show the other people around too :)

He’s pretty much in love- or thinks he is. 18+ 🌶️

Alcohol Eyes Pt 6

Rumble x Reader

• Laughing instead of crying, because he’s so serious about it. And of course, he’s a bit off. Actually believes he’s an alien robot because he’s wearing a costume. You’ve always been able to pick them. So it’s no real surprise, just a disappointment. Smile wavering as your eyes dip down. Snag on that bit of his anatomy that’s still happy to see you despite what you’d just done. And, oh. Yeah, that’s not part of the costume. That’s real.

• “Damn, you are an alien.” Uncertain, he watches you flop on your back with an arm across your eyes. Still not screaming, though. “Holiest of shits, I fucked an alien.” Crawling up your body and bracing himself so his face is inches from yours, your hand bumps his jaw when you move your arm to look at him. Aware of his spike pulsing against your belly, as he waits for you to freak out, reject him. Wanting you to want him still.

• “To be fair, we both did,” he says, voice so solemn about it you start cracking up again. Half tempted to drag him down and go another round, since sanity is already out the window. And because that thick spike is rubbing against you as he shifts over you, leaving a wet smear. Gently pushing against his shoulder until he reluctantly shifts to lay sideways beside you, you sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed. Pleasantly sore and desperately needing coffee to make any sense of this madness. “Don’t go,” he murmurs, moving to hook an arm around you and drag himself closer. Feel his mouth on your hip and you shiver as you look down at him.

• “I’m not running away,” you say, soft hand touching his helm as he mouths your warm skin. “But I need to do human things. Do you, um eat? Food?” Rumbling softly as he allows you to slip out of bed, he shadows you as you bend to retrieve a sheer covering off the floor and he moves up behind you, hands on your hips. “Guess the whole alien thing explains the stamina,” you moan, a hand landing on your dresser as he finds and enters you again, keeping you bent forward as he ruts against you.

• Can’t stop himself, just wants to lose himself in the scent and feel of you. Because if this is all he’s allowed, he’s going to enjoy it to the fullest. Wonders if he can just keep you, ask for his own quarters and just take you. Keep you in his berth. As tempting as the idea is, he’s not sure that you wouldn’t come to hate him for it. Part of what he enjoys so much about you is how impulsive you are. How wild. Trapping you might kill that spirit. But he could sneak out and return here, couldn’t he? Spend his nights in your bed. Groaning as his hips snap against you, listening to those scandalous, illicit sounds you make as you take his spike, he never wants this to end.

• You’re not going to be able to walk if he keeps this up, already sore in the best way possible, thighs trembling. Not only meeting your need, but exceeding it. In the back of your mind, there’s concerns, because this sci-fi stuff? You probably need to be asking some questions instead of pushing back to meet his thrusts on a breathy moan. Head dropping as your fingers claw at the dresser top when his thrusts become rougher, wilder, you hear the knock on the front door and swear explosively. Feel him shift against you, grinding against you and tipping you over the edge. Coming apart as his hips snap against you with wet sounds before he’s joining you. And whoever it is at the door is banging on it now. “Want me to kill them?” He growls in your ear, hips rocking shallowly against you. Feeling his excess sliding down the inside of your thigh.

• Laughing, you reach back and push against him until he lets you go and you find your coverup again and slip it on. Seeing his lips thin in disapproval. Hearing him growl that he’ll answer the door. Tempting you to point out that he’s just swinging free right now, but hell, if it’s a census worker or a solicitor at this time of morning, they deserve an eyeful of angry, alien junk. Moving into the kitchen, you get coffee going and play with the hem of your sheer coverup. A present from the last guy, it really doesn’t do anything to actually cover anything. When you hear the door close without any screaming, you turn toward the hall and freeze. Oh, yeah. There’d been two of them, hadn’t there. Your alien bestie and his alien twin. Who’s staring openly at you and your everything not at all hidden by sheer lace. Oops.

Previous

Next

[panchulien]

nobody asked but here's Part 2 of Mafia Boss Nikolai / Hitman Price. Part 1.

Nikolai was currently pinned to the ground by a very strong Englishman. One that he's grown accustomed to for a few weeks now. Noticing his presence in every room, the little hints he leaves behind of his visits to Nik's quarters. Nikolai didn't feel threatened by it, even now, with a knife pressed to his throat.

"Go on, then. Do your job." Nikolai smiled under him. They came close a few other times but the hitman was unlucky. Nikolai always found an escape in this little cat and mouse game they had going on.

Nikolai was also aware of the effect he had on the other man. His grin grew wider, so it wasn't a fruitless effort after all. Judging by the wide blown eyes of the man on top of him and his quickened breathing. Did he hit a nerve?

Price was unfocused, staring at Nikolai's face so close to him, his words echoing in his head. This was finally it. He came here to finish the job and collect his prize. After all that running around, Nikolai was finally under him, defenseless.

But it felt wrong. Something was off. Why was he grinning? Price brought the knife closer to his throat, nudging the soft skin under his hands. He was aware of the movement on his lower body but decided to ignore it. Nikolai was playing with him. Mocking him. Price hated it. Hated how his brain became cloudy just because the man grinded against him once. Goddamn him for being so gorgeous. Fuck.

Price snapped out of it by the sounds of footsteps rapidly approaching. It had to be Nikolai's men. That'd explain why Nikolai was so relaxed. Price grit his teeth before drawing himself back, cursing under his breath. "Damn it."

Nikolai had that shit eating grin on his face still, not even bothering to get up from the floor, he looked up to him. "Until next time, then, John."

Price froze on the spot. Hearing his real name from the man he was supposed to kill sent a shiver down his spine. Nope. This job was fucked from the beginning. It shouldn't have come this far. Price dreaded the implications of it, the inevitable stain on his record. This man was too much for him.

He had to move before he could think too much about it. Until next time it is, he thought to himself.

**

It's been a few weeks after that occurrence, Price laying low for a while to gather his information (and his head) together. He had to take a step back. Nikolai, the actual fucking target, was too much of a distraction for him, with the way he became so frustrated that he'd end up emptying a load into his hand while angrily muttering the Russian's name on lonely nights.

Price turned the key and entered his apartment, too caught up in his own head to notice the signs of an intrusion. The lights were off, but before he could turn to switch them on, he found himself being pushed against the wall with force.

The wind was knocked out of him, Price in shock, as strong hands grabbed him by the throat and pulled him close. "Hello again."

That voice. "You.." Price rasped out, struggling to breathe as he squirmed under the man. It was him.

"Been a while, thought I'd pay you a visit." He had the same teasing tone in his voice, which Price loathed.

Price struggled for a while, trying to get himself free from the mans hold, but the hands on his throat were too strong, taking his breath away and fogging his mind. He decided to focus on his breathing instead.

"Now, now, I'm surprised you didn't notice the car in front, I expected you'd barge in with a gun in your hand, but I guess you were distracted, hm?" Nikolai kept teasing. He could feel the man grinning despite the darkness in the room. Price hadn't noticed he came closer, bodies pressed together now, too busy trying not to suffocate.

"You and I are going to have a talk, but I need you to behave, okay?" Price could feel Nik's breath on his face, his expensive cologne hitting his nose, dizzying him even further. He wanted more of it.

Nikolai patted his cheek before he released him, taking a step back to let the man collect himself, currently in a coughing fit. "I know you won't do anything stupid. So how about we sit down?" Nikolai turned his back and walked into the living room, taking in the surroundings. He didn't turn on the light, just observed Price's living space as he sat down on the couch. The dim light coming from the streets were enough for the two to see each other.

Price fell to his knees, trying to collect his breathing after almost getting his windpipe crushed. Fuck, the man was strong. And he'd be lying if he said that didn't set something on fire in his stomach. Having his body so close to his, their groins pressed together, the hot breath on his face and the threatening hand on his throat. The sick thrill of it all. He was fucked.

Nikolai greeted him with a smile as Price finally entered the room, following his lead and sitting down across him. He could kill the man right here, right now. Nikolai came to him, willingly, not even armed. After all that chase, after everything. It was all confusing to John. He needed answers before he finished the man.

"Why are you here?" Price said flatly, his voice a bit hoarse, staring directly into the other mans eyes. He felt uneasy under Nikolai's gaze, it was as if the man was considering something, looking him up and down. Didn't help the fucking butterflies in his stomach when the man licked his lips thoughtfully before speaking,

"I believe we haven't had the chance to talk properly before, no?" Nikolai replied with a smile. Price could tell he was enjoying this.

"No, reckon I was too busy trying to do my job."

Nikolai paused for a moment, "Ah, right. Your job. I assume it's killing me." Price kept staring at him.

He continued, "I must say I'm flattered, John, nobody has ever come this close to actually finishing me, you know?" He didn't break the eye contact. "Someone must really want me dead." He chuckled.

"Why are you here." Price repeated again. He didn't know where Nikolai was going with this, and he was getting tired of the mind games. He hated everything about this. Failing at his job, his own frustrating feelings towards the man sitting in front of him, the stupid grin on his face and his annoyingly charming accent, he hated it all. He wanted to wipe that grin off his face with a punch, or a kiss, whatever worked. Damn it.

"You see, this isn't my first time dealing with people who are out to kill me. I've handled many of them, finished them with my own hands. But you, I must say, you've picked my interest over the last few weeks."

"Yeah? What's so special about me, then?" Price replied.

"You're.. how to say, persistent. Normally I would have you executed after the first attempt, but your methods are.. different. I am quite charmed by you." Nikolai said, his eyes never leaving John's. "Too bad you want me dead, I could've used someone like you in my... business." Price knew that's not what he meant. He'd be stupid to think this was a simple "job offering".

"You came all the way here to compliment me?" Price was amused. He didn't know how to feel about the fact that his interest in the man was clearly mutual.

"Da. You could say that." Nikolai grinned before continuing, "But also it'd be nice if you told me who sent you after me. I would hate to ruin such a pretty face like yours just to get that information."

Price swallowed, the words sending shivers down his spine. If he had any doubts about it before, this cleared all of them.

[aaand I got stuck. The dialogue kept going, as bad as it was. Just so you know they're definitely fucking. The tension was evident and they both want to fuck each other stupid. thanks for reading this far???????????? i doubt anyone would tbh]

[witchygagirlwrites]

Matt Casey x Reader

Dating the Captain means squeezing in time whenever and wherever

Quickie at the firehouse? It's smut 🤷‍♀️

You loved Matt. He was an amazing boyfriend, treated you like you’d never been treated before. He was gorgeous and kind, brave and an amazing man. The only issue was the fact that considering he was the captain of the station house and you were the paramedic in charge that left the two of you scrambling some days trying to meet certain needs.

You were restocking your rig and trying to ignore the fact that Matt was outside with Kelly and a few of the other guys because you knew for a fact if you watched him go through half the training exercises they were showing the new guys, you were going to end up sticking your foot in your mouth so better to just stay your butt inside where it was safe.

Yield not to temptation and all that. As fate would have it, apparently temptation wanted to find you because your boyfriend decided to come walking past your rig about that time wearing a white shirt and fixing his pants. “Well damn captain if you needed help of any sorts with your pants you know I’m the woman for the job” you spoke and a grin split his face as he cut his eyes up at you “I know baby” you winked at him.

You leaned out to watch him walk through the bays and when he got to the door he tilted his head inside then walked in. You knew that meant he had a few minutes. You looked around then hopped out of the ambulance and slammed the door before heading inside.

_________________

Making it through a station house of nosey firemen was so much harder than it sounds and doesn’t it sound hard enough? The moment you managed to squeeze in the door of the captains quarters Matt had your back against the door and was kissing you, his mouth moving from yours to work across your jaw then down your neck as your hands went to the hem of his shirt trying to get it off of him. 

He moved back long enough to slip his shirt off then went right back to your neck. Your head fell back against the door when he bit down on your pulse point. “Dammit Matt” you whispered and he grinned “C’mon sweetheart we gotta be quick before we get a call” you groaned and turned to pull him towards the cot, knowing he locked the door already.

His hands went down to unsnap your pants as the two of you stumbled your way across the room. “Grab a condom” you managed and he broke away from your lips long enough to fish one of the foil packs out of his desk. The two of you had long since figured out they came in handy for quicker clean up when a call could come in at any time.

You turned to push him down onto the cot and when he sat down you went to your knees in front of it. You reached to unzip his pants and his eyes widened “Baby” “Shh quiet Captain, someone may hear you” he watched as you pulled his half hard cock out of his pants and licked a solid line up it. His head fell back with a light moan of your name.

You cut your eyes up at him “I love you Matt” he smiled “I love you too” you lowered your mouth onto him, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock and listening to the sounds falling from his lips, god those sounds were heavenly. 

“Baby..baby” he called twice before pulling you off of himself. You glared up at him for half a second before you realized he was rolling the condom onto himself. “Get up here” you grinned and pushed your pants and boots off onto the floor. Yeah fully naked sex was definitely not happening on duty but you were taking what you could get.

You climbed onto the cot and he positioned himself between your legs “I hate having to fuck you quick” he whispered before sliding into you. Your hands went to his shoulders, nails digging into the material of his shirt “Matt, I’ll take you however I can get you” you assured him as he gave a tentative roll of his hips and your answer was to spread your legs a little further to let him go a little deeper. His head fell forward into the bend of your neck, one of his hands gripping one of your thighs to hold your legs open as he sat a hard pace chasing that high for you both trying to beat the ever ticking clock of either a call coming in or someone realizing one  or both of you were missing.

“Fuck, right there Matt” you whispered, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth in an effort to not moan loudly. He knew you were close so he caught your lips in a kiss swallowing your moans as his hands slipped between your bodies, rubbing tight circles onto your clit. You felt your orgasm hit and when your walls clenched down that brought him along with you. He bit down onto your neck to muffle his own moans as he spilled into the condom.

You both laid there for just a second trying to get your breathing back to normal before knowing you had to move. Matt stood up and pulled the condom off, cleaning himself then you up with tissues and tossing them before helping you redress. You put your hair back up in a bun and was checking your reflection when you noticed the aftermath of his kissing and the bite on your neck “Matthew Casey, you are a fucking vampire I swear” 

He grinned and gave you a small smile “I love you” you shook your head “At least the captain of the house can help me get out of trouble for having a hickey” he nodded “That he can” you shook your head “You better be glad I love you and just know when we get home I am leaving hickies everywhere I can” he smirked “Sweetheart that is not the threat you act like it is”

About that time an alarm for a call rang out. You glared at him and pulled your hair down “I’ll have to just push it back with a headband and pray no one notices” he laughed as you stepped out of his quarters “If they do at least you know I’ll get the blame, not you”

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Houses of the Holy | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: MNDI 18+ ONLY, canon violence, canon gore, SMUT, breast play, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl pls and thanks), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, clit spanking, descriptions of religious trauma (there’s a lot of talk of the two things you should never talk about in here: religion and politics)

Word Count: 5892

A/N: need i say it again, goodbye, minors!!! Be gone!!! please!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Every twenty or so minutes, you reloaded the FBI’s database you’d managed to tap into. You were getting incredibly anxious about Dean’s presence on their radar following the bank “robbery” the week prior. 

Sam went out to pose as a psychotherapy nurse to interrogate a woman whose personality seemed to have changed overnight after killing a man, claiming an angel led her to do so. You were placed on “Dean duty” after Sam insisted his brother stay here to avoid being seen. You were right on board with that idea, but you needed to stay behind to make sure Dean didn’t go stir crazy and leave stupidly.

A thousand thoughts swirled through your head as you wrote in your journal. 

“When I was on my own, I was a fucking expert at staying away from police,” you wrote. “Now, suddenly, I’m on cases with these two where every time I turn around, a cop is on my ass. I’m not super crazy about that idea. However, I don’t wanna leave them. They’re my best friends, and I know Dean is something more to me. I don’t wanna give that all up just because I’m starting to sweat a bit, y’know? 

“I am not one to shy away from trouble, and I’m loyal. Those are two qualities I’m super proud of,” you continued writing, “I just am worried. And I feel like that’s completely normal. But it’s a different kind of worry. I’ve never had to be concerned about two other people when I’m hunting. This is the first time I’ve had partners who are just as good as I am. And I’ve never cared about my partners this much. And in a way, that sucks.

“And what the hell was I thinking promising Sam that I’d kill him if necessary? Am I out of my fucking mind?? I don’t know what I’d do if Dean hated me. But I’d still rather him hate me than hate himself. I can go it alone again. I really could. I just don’t think I want to.”

You dropped your pen and scrubbed a hand over your face before pulling it through your hair. 

“Sweetheart. C’mere,” Dean groaned from the other end of the room. He was laying on a vibrating motel bed with his headphones in his ears. He’d been obsessively fueling the “Magic Fingers” machine with quarters. 

You headed over to him just as the bed stopped vibrating.

“Damn, that was my last quarter,” he huffed, taking his headphones out of his ears. He seemed not to notice you until that moment. “Oh, hey.” 

You sat on the bed next to him, and he was still laid out in the center of the bed on his back.”Whatcha need?”

“You,” he said, smirking.

You laughed as he pulled on the ends of your— his— shirt, trying to get you to lay on top of him. You happily complied, leaning forward to kiss him. Between kisses, you giggled, “Dee, we already fucked this morning. You’re seriously ready again?”

He hummed against your lips. “Always.”

You rolled your head away from him. “I have sex with you once, and suddenly, you’re insatiable.”

“I can’t help it,” he smirked. “You’re gorgeous.”

You faux-pouted. “That’s it?”

He rolled on top of you and kissed up your neck. “And smart.” He kissed you again, moving to your left cheek. “And badass.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “And sexy.” He kissed your lips. “I hate how much I need you.”

You mocked offense. “Why do you hate it?”

“ ‘Cause I don’t like to need anyone,” he replied. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I need you, too.” You leaned up to him and pecked his lips before leaning back down on the pillows. “And not just sexually,” you clarified.

He chuckled. “Same here,” he told you earnestly.

You grinned widely, pulling him back down to your lips by the nape of his neck. He eagerly bit your bottom lip before trailing his lips down your neck. He sucked a dark spot on your collarbone, making you tug his hair and moan. He groaned against your skin before hiking the shirt up your body, swirling his tongue around your nipples. Still sensitive from your activities earlier in the morning, your back immediately arched into him and you keened, encouraging him to keep going. He switched to your other breast and chuckled as you continued writhing underneath him. “Wonder if I could make you cum just like this,” he said, looking up at you. 

“Stop teasing, Dean,” you whined, shoving his shoulders down to your pussy.

“Hmm, but it’s so much fun,” he replied. Dean skimmed his fingers down to the band of your underwear, playing with the hem. You sucked in a sharp breath and squirmed beneath him. “Why would I do what you want when this is so much more enjoyable for me,” he chuckled darkly.

“Dean!” you cried out. “Please!”

“Fine,” he responded. The man above you pushed your panties down your legs before dipping his fingers into your cunt. “So wet for me already?”

“Fuck you,” you murmured in embarrassment.

He tsked. “Is that any way to talk to the guy who made you cum three times this morning?”

“It is if he’s being a fucking tease,” you replied, running your nails over his abs just above his V-line.

He groaned at your actions before grabbing your wrist and pinning it next to your head. “Now who’s being a tease?” Dean used one hand to pin your wrist above your head and the other to grab your other. He pinned them above your head, instructing you to keep them there.

He moved back down your body, stopping when he reached your core. He eagerly ate you out like a man starved, and your hands flew to his hair. He immediately stopped. 

“What’d I say?” he asked gruffly.

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly, grabbing the headboard above you to keep your hands there.

He moved back to your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth and making you grip the headboard tighter. “Fuck, Dean!” you cried out.

He curled two long fingers inside you, groaning at the slick pooling between your thighs. Your orgasm was quickly approaching as he hit your g-spot with the tips of his fingers and continued harshly sucking your clit, every now and again swirling his tongue around it. 

“Fuck, fuck, please, I’m gonna—” And then he was gone. “What the fuck?” you whined at the feeling of his fingers leaving you.

“You don’t get to come until I say,” he growled. “You understand?”

You nodded eagerly, still white-knuckling the headboard. You spread your legs wide, fully displaying your pussy to him. “Fuck me, Dean.”

His hand came harshly down on your clit. You yelped in surprise.

“You don’t make the demands here, I do.” He spanked your clit one more time for good measure before shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them in earnest, closing your eyes as you licked them clean. Dean groaned at the feeling and freed his fingers from your mouth, gripping your throat as he bent down to kiss you. 

Before you knew it, Dean’s cock was inside you, making you gasp into his mouth. He sheathed himself fully inside you, and you locked your legs around his hips. He rocked into you roughly, each thrust making you come more and more alight. 

“Can I touch you?” you breathed out. “Please?”

“Beg,” he replied, still keeping his thrusts even.

“Dean, please let me touch you. Please, please, I need to touch you,” you groveled through shallow breaths. 

“Hmm…” he smirked, rolling his hips into yours roughly. 

“Dean! Please! Please!” you cried, gasping. “I need to feel you, Dee.”

“Okay, sweetheart, you can,” he said.

You were on him in an instant, one hand in his hair and the other winding around the underside of his shoulders. You kissed your way down his neck and nipped at the base of it, careful not to leave any dark marks; even though you really wanted to. Dean’s pace began to falter as you felt his cock twitching inside you.

“Cum with me,” he instructed you. He reached down to your clit, drawing rough circles, before burying his face in your shoulder. “Cum with me, now, (Y/N).”

You came with a high-pitched moan, your orgasm crashing into you suddenly. Your legs locked around the base of Dean’s spine, keeping him inside you as he came. You moaned again at the feeling of his cum spilling inside you. His thrusts slowed, and he pulled out, causing you to whine at the loss. Dean laid on your bare chest, breathless. 

You took a few minutes to linger in this feeling which you decided was your version of heaven. No monsters, no fighting, no police run-ins— just Dean laying on your chest, breathing in time with you. However, you knew Sam would be coming back any minute now.

“Dean,” you said, trying to wiggle out from under him.

“Hm?”

“We gotta get up, Sam’s gonna be back soon.”

“Who cares.”

“Me!” you squealed as his grip tightened around you. “I don’t really want Sam to see my bare tits!”

He kissed between the valley of your breasts, nuzzling your left one with his cheek. “But I wanna keep lookin’ at ‘em.”

“Dean!”

“Alright, alright.” He finally let go of you, and you pulled your clothes back on. This time, you put your jeans and the shirt you wore before you and Dean fucked for the first time that morning to avoid Sam knowing what had been happening. You headed back over to your laptop, and reloaded the FBI’s database page.

“What is so important over there?” Dean asked, coming over to you. 

You turned your laptop to face him. 

“Seriously? You’re gonna drive yourself crazy lookin’ at that.”

“Well, sorry, but I’m trying to keep you from getting arrested,” you scoffed.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

You looked away from your computer and back up to him with big doe eyes.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that,” Dean growled.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Why?”

“ ‘Cause I’m not gonna be able to control myself if you don't,” he replied.

Despite your earlier activities, heat flooded once more between your thighs. “Dean—”

At that moment, Sam burst through the door. “Hey.”

Dean jerked away from you, and you awkwardly returned to the computer in front of you.

“So, did you get in to see that crazy hooker?” Dean questioned, scratching the back of his neck. 

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Gloria Sitnick. And I'm not so sure she's crazy.”

“But she seriously believes that she was... touched by an angel?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean, she's living in a locked ward and she's totally at peace.”

You scoffed. “Definitely completely sane. What about the guy she stabbed?”

“Uh, Carl Gully. She said she killed him because he was evil,” Sam explained. 

“Was he?” Dean asked.

The brunet shrugged. “I don't know. I mean, I couldn't find any dirt on him. I mean, he didn't have a criminal record, he worked at the campus library, had lots of friends. He was a churchgoer.”

Dean paced around, all-business mode. “Hm. So then Gloria's just your standard-issue wacko. I mean, phew, she wouldn't be the first nutjob in history to kill in the name of religion. Know what I mean?”

“No, but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little bit odd, don't ya think?” Sam countered.

“Well, little odd, yes, supernatural, maybe. But angels? I don't think so.”

“Agreed,” you chimed in.

“Why not?” Sam asked.

“ ‘Cause angels aren’t real,” you replied.

“(Y/N/N), there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted,” the younger brother reminded you.

“Yeah, you know what? There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they, they ride on silver moonbeams, and they shoot rainbows out of their ass,” Dean grunted.

Sam sat down across from you, deadpanning, “Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?”

“That's cute,” Dean monotoned, “I'm just saying, man, there's just some legends that you just, you file under ‘bullcrap’.”

“And you've got angels on the bullcrap list.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause I’ve never seen one,” you chimed in.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “So what?”

“So I believe in what I can see,” Dean argued.

“Dean! You and I have seen things that most people couldn't even dream about.”

“Sam,” you started, trying to mollify both brothers. “I think that’s his point. We can actually see that stuff. Hard proof, y’know? We don’t have hard proof of angels.”

“This is a– a demon or a spirit,” Dean continued. “You know, they find people a few fries short of a happy meal, and they trick them into killing these randoms.”

Sam sighed. “Maybe.”

“Can we just— I'm going stir-crazy, guys. Hey, let's go by Gloria's apartment, huh?” Dean begged you and Sam. 

“I was just there. Nothing. No sulfur, no EMF…” Sam trailed off.

“You didn't see any fluffy white wing feathers?” Dean deadpanned.

“But Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign, right beside Carl Gully's doorway,” Sam huffed.

Dean perked up at that notion. “Could be something at his house; it's worth checking out.”

“I don’t love that idea, Dean. Please… stay here, okay? Sam and I can handle it,” you argued.

Dean groaned. “(Y/N), I’m going fucking crazy in here. Please?”

You crossed your arms. “No.”

He went to say something again.

“No. Sam, you’re on Dean duty. I’ll be back in a few hours,” you stated firmly.

“(Y/N)—”

“Dean,” you warned. “I’ll bring you back some beers, okay?”

He huffed. 

“I’ll throw a burger and some quarters in there, too, okay?” 

Dean huffed again, but said nothing in response. 

You tugged your boots on, and Sam tossed the keys to you.

“Not a scratch, (Y/N),” Dean told you firmly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

***

About two hours later, you returned with a six pack and burgers and fries for the boys. 

“Oh, (Y/N), thank god,” Sam exclaimed when you returned. 

“What, has he been that bad?” you asked. 

“I’m right here, y’know,’ Dean grumbled. “You bring any quarters?”

“Told you I would.” You chucked the roll of quarters and his car keys back at him. 

You put the six pack down on the table and began distributing the food between the brothers.

“Woman, you’re fucking awesome,” Dean groaned as he took a bite of his burger. 

Sam laughed. “So, what’d you find out?”

“Well, Mr. Gully had some pretty dark secrets,” you began. “I found three sets of bones buried under his house. Poor babies were kids from the local college who disappeared about a year ago. And get this; all of ‘em were last seen at the library.”

“Sick bastard,” Dean grunted. 

“So Gloria's angel—” Sam started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“Angel?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay. Whatever this thing is…”

“Whatever it is, it's struck again,” Dean jumped back in through a mouthful of food.

“What?” you questioned.

“Dean hasn’t put down the police radio since you left,” Sam told you. “There was this guy, uh, Zach Smith, some local drunk; he went up to a stranger's front door last night, stabbed him in the heart.”

“And then I'm guessing he went to the police and confessed?” you asked.

“Yep. Roma Downey made him do it,” Dean quipped. He took a post-it note off the mirror. “Now, I, uh, got the victim's address.”

“Dean—”

“(Y/N), I am not staying here again. Just this one thing? Please?”

“No, Dee. I’m not taking that risk. You have got to lay low,” you insisted.

“(Y/N), how are you gonna stop me from doing my job?”

“Because if it involves putting yourself at risk, then it’s not happening,” you protested. 

“My whole job is risk,” he argued, stepping closer to you. “There’s just… an added level now.”

“Exactly. Which means we have to be that much more careful. Especially considering we have the feds on our ass. I’m not letting this happen,” you shot back.

“Hate to say it, Dean, I think (Y/N)’s right,” Sam jumped in. “I’ll go check out the vic’s house. (Y/N), stay here.”

“Fine by me,” you said. 

Dean grunted in aggravation, and flopped down on the bed after putting a few quarters in the Magic Fingers machine. You knew he’d probably stay angry with you for the rest of the evening. 

After a few minutes of silence and when the rumbling came to an end, you spoke up again. “Dean,” you sighed. “I’m not trying to be a huge ass, okay? I’d be angry with me, too. But this is just… It’s a lot. And I’m trying to keep you boys as safe as possible. And I wanna help Sam with this case, but I can’t if I’m worried about you not staying put, okay?”

Dean didn’t respond, and you thought for a moment that he’d fallen asleep. At least, that was until you heard him murmur, “Okay.”

*** Sam informed you and Dean that the most recent victim had been planning to meet with a thirteen-year-old girl. Your stomach turned when he told you, and Dean looked like he would’ve kicked the guy to hell and back given the opportunity. Sam also told you that both victims went to the same church called “Our Lady of the Angels.”

“That’s funny,” you’d commented. 

Following last night’s conversation with Dean, you felt more comfortable leaving him to his own devices. And so, it was up to you and Sam to go talk to the priests at said church.

“So you're interested in joining the parish?” the priest, who’d introduced himself as Father Reynolds, asked you.

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

“Where'd you say you lived before?”

“Fremont, Texas,” you said without missing a beat.

“Really? That's a nice town,” Fr. Reynolds noted. “St. Teresa's parish, you must know the priest there.”

“Yes, sir. He’s wonderful,” you nodded.

“You know, we're just happy to be here now, Father,” Sam broke in.

“And we're happy to have you, we could use some young blood around here.”

“Hey, listen, I gotta ask,” you began hesitantly. “No offense, but uh, the neighborhood?”

Fr. Reynolds sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Well, it's gone to seed a little, there's no denying that, but that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle, but in the meantime you work your butt off.”

“Yeah, we, uh, heard about the murders,” you acknowledged.

“Yes. The victims were parishioners of mine, I'd known them for years.”

Sam quirked his head to the side. “And the killers said that an angel made them do that?”

“Yes. Misguided souls, to think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder. It's tragic,” the priest sighed. 

“So you don't believe in the whole ‘angel’ thing?” you questioned. 

“Oh, no, I absolutely believe,” he chuckled. “Kind of goes with the job description.”

Sam nodded toward the painting on the wall. “Father, that's Michael, right?”

“That's right. The archangel Michael, with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons. Holy force against evil.”

“So they're not really the Hallmark card version that everybody thinks? They're fierce, right? Vigilant?” 

“Well, I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful. But, uh, yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors. ‘An angel of the Lord appeared to them, the glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified’,” the priest finished.

You nodded sagely. “Luke two nine.”

The priest seemed surprised you knew that. “Yes, actually.”

You laughed uncomfortably. “My, uh, my mom was a pretty zealous Catholic,” you explained as Fr. Reynolds began leading you out of the door. “She’d quiz me on the bible verses every now and again.”

You could feel Sam’s eyes on you while you began heading down the steps of the church. 

“Well, thank you for speaking with us, Father,” the brunet said. 

“Oh, it's my pleasure. Hope to see you again,” the priest nodded.

You noticed a collection of tribute items at the bottom of the steps; candles, flowers, pictures, and rosaries. “Hey, Father, what's, what’s all that for?”

Fr. Reynolds deflated a bit. “Oh, that's for Father Gregory. He was a priest here.”

“Was?” you questioned.

“He passed away right on these steps. He's interred in the church crypt,” he explained.

“When did this happen?”

“Two months ago. He was shot for his car keys.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you told him.

“Yeah, me too.” The priest couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from his friend’s memorial. “He was a good friend. I didn't even have time to administer his last rites. But like I said, it's a tough neighborhood. Ever since he died I've been praying my heart out.”

“For what?” Sam asked.

“For deliverance. From the violence and the bloodshed around here. We could use a little divine intervention, I suppose,” he replied.

“Thanks, Father. We’ll see you around sometime,” you nodded solemnly. He headed back inside.

“Well, it's all starting to make sense. Devoted priest dies a violent death? That's vengeful spirit material right there,” you noted.

Sam seemed a bit uncomfortable.

“And he knew all the vics, because they went to church here,” you continued. “In fact I'm willing to bet that because he was their priest, he knew things about them that nobody else knew. Reconciliation and all that jazz.”

“Then again, Father Reynolds started praying for God's help about two months ago, right? Right about the time all this started happening?” Sam countered.

“Sam,” you sighed. “I know you wanna believe, but I’m not really sold on this whole ‘angel’ idea. Why do you seem so convinced?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “But I do know that I pray. Every single day. I have for a long time.”

You startled a bit. “Really? I had no idea.”

“And what about you?” he asked. “What made you stop?”

“Well, like I said, my mom was always a bit of a zealot,” you began. “And… let’s just say I saw how well prayin’ worked out for her.” 

Sam shot you a puppy-dog-eyed look. 

“C’mon, let’s go check out Fr. Gregory’s grave.”

Sam followed you down to the crypt. It was a bit of a maze of stone hallways lined with numerous stone angel statues. You headed a little ahead of Sam deeper into the crypt. You turned back when you noticed Sam wasn’t behind you, and then suddenly felt the ground beneath you shaking.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmured before running to where you thought Sam may be. “Sammy?” you called. “Get the rocksalt out—” You halted momentarily when you noticed Sam’s slumped over form on the ground. “Hey! Sam! Wake up!” you cried, grabbing his face in both your hands. He jerked awake as soon as you touched him. “You okay?!” you asked worriedly.

He looked past you at the angel statue behind you. “Yeah. Yeah. 'm okay.” He seemed a little startled.

You helped him to his feet and led him into the sanctuary. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, (Y/N), I saw an angel,” he said.

“You—” You shook your head, unsure how to approach this situation. “So. What makes you think you saw an, uh, angel?”

“It just, it appeared before me and I just, this feeling washed over me, you know? Like, like peace. Like grace,” he explained.

You swallowed harshly, feeling suddenly unsettled. “Wh—” You laughed uncomfortably.

“I know this is a lot, but I’m telling you, it spoke to me. It knew who I was,” he said.

You shook your head. “Spirits can do that, though, y’know that, right?”

Sam didn’t seem convinced. 

“Okay, let me guess,” you tried. “You were personally chosen to smite some sinner. You've just got to wait for some divine bat signal, is that it?”

“Yeah, actually,” Sam nodded.

“Great. I don't suppose you asked what this alleged bad guy did?”

“Actually I did, (Y/N). And the angel told me. He hasn't done anything. Yet. But he will,” Sam nodded.

You started pacing. “I don’t believe this.”

“(Y/N), the angel hasn’t been wrong yet!” Sam protested. “Someone's going to do something awful, and I can stop it!”

You scoffed. “You’re supposed to do something awful, too. Does that mean I’m just supposed to nuke you right now?”

“Y’know what? I don't understand! Why can't you and Dean even consider the possibility?”

“What, that this is an angel?”

“Yes! Maybe we're hunting an angel here, and we should stop! Maybe this is God's will!”

“Y’know what, Sam, if that’s what you believe, fine,” you sighed. “If faith is what helps you sleep at night and brings you a little peace, then, that’s great and I’m happy for you. But I cannot rationalize worshiping a god who’s gonna condemn me to a pit of fire and suffering for the simple fact of non-belief. I mean, think about it, man. He knows exactly what it would take to get every person to believe, and he still chooses not to show it to us.” You began to pace faster. “And, and? Why would homosexuality be the thing he chooses to put his foot down on? And if you are this great and good god, why is that love wrong? And if people believe in other religions, why does that mean they’re going to hell? What if they’re Buddhist and an exceptional person; they still have to go to hell? Hindu? I don’t fucking get it, Sam. And if my options are going to heaven with all the churchgoers— who are mostly hypocrites and these fuck-os who are abusing kids and murdering on Tuesday after just leaving church the Sunday before, then send me straight on down to hell. I’ll take eternity with actually decent people over these yuppies and troglodytes any day.” You stopped, taking a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Sam seemed shocked. “It’s okay,” he said, despite himself. 

You huffed, scratching the back of your head. “Anyway, I got some hard proof we’re dealing with a spirit.” You led him over to Father Gregory’s grave. It was crawling with mangled vines, and you crouched down in front of it. 

“That looks like—”

You cut Sam off. “Wormwood. Plant associated with the dead; specifically the ones that are not at rest. I don't see it growing anywhere else, except over the murdered priest's marker. It's him, Sam.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Maybe?”

“I don't know what to think,” he said honestly.

You sighed. “Okay. You want some more proof? I'll give you more proof.”

“How?” Sam asked.

“We'll summon Gregory's spirit,” you responded simply.

“What? Here? In the church?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just need a few odds and ends and my journal for a séance ritual.”

“Oh, a séance, great. Hope Whoopi's available,” Sam quipped.

You deadpanned at him, “Cute. Seriously. If Father Gregory's spirit is around, a séance will bring him right to us. If it's him, then we'll put him to rest.”

“But if it's an angel, it won't show. Nothin' 'll happen.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “And then we’ll know for sure. And then I can grovel in front of Michael or Zachariah or Castiel or whichever the hell angel it is and beg for their forgiveness before they smite me.”

“The hell kind of angel’s named Castiel?” Sam’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Angel of temperance and serenity. Not traditional Catholicism, but I digress. I told you, my mom was a complete Jesus-freak,” you snorted. “Alright, let’s go get my journal. Hopefully Dean’s still there. I swear to god, I’ll send him to hell and back if he’s not.” *** Thankfully for Dean, he was right where you’d left him. He looked bored out of his skull, but he actually listened to you. “Jesus, how fuckin’ long does it take to talk to a priest?” 

“Not right now, Dean. Sam’s a little, uh, possessed? Cursed? Don’t know what the right word is in this situation. Divinely inspired?” you continued.

“What? He saw it?”

Sam nodded.

“We don’t have time to rehash all this. Now, Dean, you comin’ or not?” You turned to the elder brother.

“Wait, you’re letting me out?”

You scoffed. “Dean, you’re not a hostage. C’mon. We could use the help especially now that Sam’s been angel-drugged.”

Dean chuckled. 

“What?” you asked.

“Sam got touched by an angel,” he snickered.

You burst out in laughter, and Sam just deadpanned.

***

Your next stop was a small grocery store that you hoped didn’t have security cameras that would be able to identify Dean. Sam bounded out of the store holding a paper sack and chuckling. “Guys. I'll admit we've gone pretty ghetto with spellwork before, but this takes the cake. I mean, a Spongebob placemat instead of an altar cloth?”

“We'll just put it Spongebob-side down,” Dean shrugged.

Sam’s laughter subsided suddenly as he stared at someone across the street. 

“What is it?” you asked him.

“It’s him,” he replied. “That's the sign!”

“Where?” Dean questioned.

“Right there, right behind that guy! That's him, Dean. And we have to stop him,” Sam pleaded.

Sam started after him, but you and Dean held the giant man back.

“Wait a second,” you stated. 

“What are you doing? Let me go,” Sam grunted.

“You're not going to go kill somebody because a ghost told you to, are you insane?” Dean hissed.

“Dean, I'm not insane, I'm not going to kill him. I'm going to stop him.”

“Define ‘stop’, huh? I mean, what are you going to do?” Dean pressed.

“Dean, please, he's going to hurt someone, you know it.”

“Alright, come on,” Dean said finally. You moved to the other side of the car, and Dean quickly shoved you down into the backseat. 

“Dean. Unlock my door,” Sam commanded, still standing on the sidewalk.

“You're not killing anyone, Sam. (Y/N) and I got this guy, you go do the séance,” he nodded.

“Dean!” Sam called after you, but Dean was already pulling away. He followed the man who’d been holding the yellow flowers down a short distance down the street before the guy stopped in front of a girl. She got in the car with him, and your heart sank as you climbed into the front seat.

“I don’t like where this is going,” you murmured.

“Yeah, me neither.” Dean gripped the wheel tightly and started trailing the blue car again. 

The allegedly evil man soon turned down a dark alley, and you temporarily lost sight of him. Dean cursed, “Dammit!” and slammed the steering wheel in frustration.

“Dean, Dean, follow him, c’mon,” you begged, and he slammed his foot on the gas, turning down the alley he thought he’d seen the man head down. Thankfully, his guess was correct, and you and Dean quickly ran to opposite sides of the man’s car. You could hear the young woman crying and the man shouting at her as you approached. Dean punched the window, and you took that as your opportunity to quickly pull the girl out of the car. 

“Are you okay?” you asked her, grabbing her shoulders.

“Thank god!” she cried, surging forward to hug you.

You called to Dean as the man sped off in his blue car. “Dean! I got her, you follow him! I’ll catch up with you later!”

Dean nodded, sprinting back to the Impala and following the man out of the alley.

“Did he do anything to you?” you asked her.

She shook her head, still crying.

“Do you have any friends nearby? I’ll walk you to ‘em,” you told her. 

The woman nodded. “Yeah, um, my friend—” she hiccuped, “my friend Sarah lives around here.”

“Okay, can you call Sarah? Let her know you’re on your way?”

She nodded again, and you rubbed her back with your hand to soothe her while you started walking toward her friend’s apartment.

You got to know her as you walked to help her calm down and distract her from what had just happened. Her tears slowly subsided, and you seemed to have calmed her down by the time you arrived at her friend’s apartment complex. She hugged you tightly after announcing the two of you had made it. 

“Thank you so much,” she told you. 

“Anytime,” you told her. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She nodded and headed up the front steps. She turned to you when she reached the door, waving goodbye one last time.

***

You somehow managed to get back to the motel. Surprisingly, Sarah’s apartment hadn’t been too far from it. You only needed to walk about thirty minutes before you stumbled upon it. 

“Hey,” you said as you opened the door to the Winchesters’ room. Both Dean and Sam were packing. “How’s everybody doin?”

Sam looked demoralized. “You were right. It wasn't an angel. It was Gregory. I don't know, guys, I just, uh—” he sat down on the bed. “I wanted to believe… so badly. It's so damn hard to do this, what we do. You're all alone, you know? And there's so much evil out there in the world, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up—”

Dean sat next to him. “Yeah, well, don't worry about that. All right? I'm watching out for you.”

The brunet smiled. “Yeah, I know you are. But you're just one person, Dean. And I needed to think that there was something else, watching too, you know? Some higher power. Some greater good. And that maybe…” he trailed off.

“Maybe what?” you asked.

“Maybe I could be saved.” He suddenly realized what he admitted and chuckled nervously. “But, uh, you know, that just clouded my judgment, and you're right. I mean, we've gotta go with what we know, with what we can see, with what's right there in front of our own two eyes.”

“Yeah, well, it's funny you say that,” Dean said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Gregory's spirit gave you some pretty good information. That guy in the car was bad news. We barely got there in time.”

“What happened to him?” you questioned.

“He's dead.”

“Did… Did you?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No. But I'll tell you one thing. If— The way he died, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes I never would have believed it. I mean— I don't know what to call it.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “What? Dean, what did you see?” 

“Maybe… God's will.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[yoongis-property]

ATEEZ FIC RECS 

last update: 09.06.2023

m- mature , f- fluff , a- angst , ☆- personal favorite

e2l- enemies to lovers, s2l- strangers to lovers, f2l- friends to lovers, bf2l- best friends to lovers, cf2l- childhood friends to lovers, fwb2l- friends with benefits to lovers, ex2l- exes to lovers, i2l- idiots to lovers

MASTERLIST

PARK SEONGHWA

click here for seonghwa masterlist

KIM HONGJOONG

⇢ A LITTLE SOMETHIMG MORE by @flurrys-creativity (established realtionship!au, a, m)

❝ Why didn’t you pick up your damn phone?” Hongjoong hissed, on the verge of exploding, “I called three times already.”.. ❞

⇢ MARIGOLD by @yoongiseesawmp3 (frat boy!hj, bf2l, f, m, light a)

❝ annoying frat boy!hongjoong. your best friend and the bane of your existence is probably the love of your life, and you’re not sure how to tell him. your mutual friend seonghwa knows about your true feelings for hongjoong, and he does everything in his power to get you two together. one halloween party, one rainy car ride and one emotional rollercoaster later, you finally get a taste of what you’ve been waiting so long for. ❞

⇢ PIRATE KING by @cybrsan (pirate!au, m)

❝ You are playing a dangerous game with an even more dangerous man, and you don’t know how much longer it can go on before everything falls apart around you. ❞

⇢ TELL ME TO STOP by @tenelkadjowrites (bf2l, m, ☆)

❝ Having been best friends with Hongjoong since childhood, you thought a camping trip might help breach the growing distance between the two of you. However, when a storm sweeps Hongjoong’s tent away, you find yourself in rather cramped quarters with him when he has to share your tent. ❞

⇢ THE BEST FRIENDS CODE by @tenelkadjowrites (m, bf2l) feat. hwa

❝ Hongjoong swears up and down that if you don’t touch each other, it won’t ruin the friendship...and what is the harm in blowing off some steam? ❞

seonghwa is in part 2 and part 3

⇢ THIS WORLD by @hongism​ (dystopian!au, m)

​ ❝ What he’s given you is essentially one chance and night. Nothing more and nothing less. ❞

⇢ TOUCH ME NOW by @slut4hwa​ (m)

❝ it wasn’t on purpose of course. the topic was already there so it kind of just slipped out.“yeah i’ve always wanted to know how squirting feels-” you blurted it out. fuck. ❞

⇢ WHAT HAPPENS IN A BLACKOUT by @tenelkadjowrites (kinda e2l, m)

❝ Stuck in an elevator with Hongjoong, the person you hate the most, you aren’t ready for when things take an unexpected turn. ❞

YOURE HONGJOONGS BIAS by @jnginlov​ (idol!au, f)

❝ when you and your group go on idol radio to promote your latest comeback, you don’t anticipate one of the hosts to be completely enraptured by you ❞

JEONG YUNHO

⇢ KILLING ME by @yoongiseesawmp3 (frat boy!yh, m, a) 

❝ after last year, yunho swore he would never live in a frat house ever again. that doesn’t mean he’s leaving the frat, though, so he moves into an apartment just down the street. and you? well you need somewhere cheap and walkable to campus, and yunho is leasing a room. so that’s how you end up living with the human embodiment of sunshine and puppies, but the more time you spend with yunho the more you realize he may have a darker side lurking beneath the surface. ❞

⇢ LIKE A DREAM by @cheollipop (established relationship, m, f) feat. mingi

❝ with only the orange hues of the lamp illuminating the room, they have you for the first time, and it feels just like a dream. ❞

⇢ OUT OF THE WOODS by @sluttywoozi (vacation!au, one bed trope, f2l, f, light m, ☆)

❝ You’ve been driving Yunho nuts lately and he just can’t figure out why. He hates being annoyed with his friends, so he’s been avoiding you. It’s difficult to stay away when you’re locked together in a cabin with seven of your closest friends, though. ❞

pt. 2

⇢ SUMMER NIGHTS by @honeyhotteoks (roommate!au, bf2l, m, f)

❝ he's your best friend and roommate, but during the heat of summer and the confinement of quarantine, you just can't seem to help yourselves. ❞

pt. 2

⇢ THE DRILL by @byuntrash101​ (m)

❝ yunho cant seem to pick up anyone at the club. for two main reasons, two problems if you will. the first one: his rizz level is negative and the second one... well it's bigger. much, much bigger. a huge problem wooyoung has named "the drill" ❞

⇢ THIS NIGHT TOGETHER by @honeyhotteoks (werewolf!au, m, f, a) feat. mingi

❝ you’re finally getting your dream job, working with some of the best dancers in the business, but a job change means a break in your healthcare coverage and suppressants these days are expensive. going into heat at the studio pretty much seems like the worst case scenario, but you find yourself in the care of two alphas who won’t let you go through it alone. ❞

unfinished!

⇢ TUTOR BOY by @cas-skz (m)

❝ After begging your tutor to help you with your last assignment, he agrees to help in return for a favor. He proves that even the most innocent looking people, aren’t so innocent. ❞

⇢ TWO IS BETTER THAN ONE by @songmingisthighs (f2l, m) feat. mingi

❝ Mingi’s sweater felt comfortable on you, it was warm and it smelled like him. Not just his perfume, but his own scent.. ❞

⇢ YOUR FAN, YUNHO by @hwaightme (game developer!reader, f)

❝ a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if yunho was stanning you. ❞

KANG YEOSANG

⇢ FREAKS by @mingigoo (bf2l, m, a)

❝ after being friends for ten years, your triad friendship with Yeosang and Wooyoung is falling apart, all because of a simple game—spin the bottle. ❞

⇢ I´M IN LOVE by @anyamaris (m)

❝ You wake in a dream to be met with a dream inside a dream. ❞

⇢ OBSESSIVE by @mingigoo (e2l, fwb!au, college!au, m, f, light a)

❝ You tried to pay no mind to your brother’s friends and their flirty antics, but it always confused you when only one of them seemed disinterested in you. Even though you’d never admit it, he intrigued you—to the point where when you kissed drunkenly at party, you wanted more. And you were going to get it. ❞

CHOI SAN

⇢ FIRST THINGS FIRST by @sluttywoozi (college!au, f2l, m, f)

❝ San had hoped you were coming to the party tonight but he never expected it to end like this. ❞

pt. 2

⇢ HEARTWORM by @atinyidea (college!au, f2l, f, light a, light m)

❝ n. a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smouldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire. ❞

⇢ HEISTS AND CELEBRATIONS by @cheollipop (criminal!au, m) feat. woo

❝ with the stolen necklace secured around your neck, wooyoung slumped back in his seat, fingers gripping the steering wheel while his eyes remained focused on the overhead mirror, watching his two partners celebrate another successful heist in the back of his van. ❞

⇢ IN THE QUIET SPACES by @honeyhotteoks (established realtionship!au, f, m)

❝ a quiet morning snowed in at the cabin with san ❞

⇢ IT'S SWEATPANTS SEASON, OH MY! by @thisthatpinkvenom​ (jock!san, established relationship!au, college!au, f, m)

❝ autumn has arrived; the season of pumpkin spice lattes, corn and—unfortunately for you—grey sweatpants. those pesky little things have attached themselves to your boyfriend's legs like glue, and you're having a hard time keeping your mind out of the gutter. ❞

⇢ LET`S FUCK by @ughsimpp (m)

❝ hearing your close girlfriends talk about how their mans made them orgasm is an interesting topic but you couldn't really relate with them. in your past relationships (like 2), none of your ex's could ever make you reach that high. you kept quiet and listened as your friends continued to talk. ❞

⇢ MILKY WAY by @ad0rechuu (sm!au, idol!reader, f, a) feat. hwa & mingi

❝ It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else… ❞

⇢ ODD EYE by @luvteez​ (sm!au, soulmate!au, college!au, f, a)

❝ when the public finds out that rookie idol choi san has a soulmate, he’s forced to retire from the entertainment industry and stays low as a full time university student and part time barista. never does he intend on finding his soulmate, but fate seems to have other plans for him. enter: you. ❞

⇢ OH HE´S GOOD by @yoongiseesawmp3 (m, f, ☆)

❝ san, a non-believer, has one of the best voices in the church choir, and maybe one of the best voices in the world. fresh off a break up, you’re not looking for anything serious, and he isn’t either... but someone definitely falls faster and harder than they should. ❞

⇢ ONE MORE REP by @cheollipop (personal trainers!au, f2l, m) feat. woo

❝ san got a little too excited watching you exercise in purple – his favourite colour – and wooyoung was nothing if not a tease. turning their attention back to you, they didn't expect to see you equally worked-up. ❞

⇢ PARTY OF THREE by @cybrsan (established realtionship!au, m) feat. woo

❝ Things take an unexpected turn when Wooyoung walks in on you and San. ❞

⇢ POP QUIZ by @yoongiseesawmp3 (college!au, f)

❝ who knew being late to class one day would lead to you kissing the cute ta a few days later? not you. but who’s complaining? also not you. ❞

SONG MINGI

⇢ AFTER LIKE by @sluttywoozi​ (plug!mg, light a, m, f)

❝ Mingi has been your plug for nearly three years now. You've always liked him well enough, but something has changed between you. What happens after like? ❞

part 2

⇢ ALL IN by @tenelkadjowrites (bf2l, m, ☆)

❝ A night of drunken debauchery with your best friend in Las Vegas leads to something you never could imagine. ❞

⇢ DITTO by @sluttywoozi (f2l, f, m)

❝ You've liked Mingi for a while now, but every time you try to hang out one on one, it turns into a group thing. Will you be able to act normal now that you've finally gotten him alone? ❞

⇢ DREAMER by @mingigoo (college!au, bf2l, m, f)

❝ you couldn’t live without your best friend, Mingi. You did everything together, and whenever you needed a shoulder to lean on, he was there. But when something suddenly changes how you see him, you’re not so sure you can stay friends. You wanted more. ❞

⇢ LIKE A DREAM by @cheollipop (established relationship, m, f) feat. yunho

❝ with only the orange hues of the lamp illuminating the room, they have you for the first time, and it feels just like a dream. ❞

⇢ MILKY WAY by @ad0rechuu (sm!au, idol!reader, f, a) feat. san & hwa

❝ It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else… ❞

⇢ MIND OVER MATTER by @mingisaddctn (bf2l, m)

❝ the two things you can be sure in life is that 1. you will die and 2. you've never wanted to suck a dick so bad. ❞

⇢ ONCE by @tenelkadjowrites (roommate!au, m)

❝ After accidentally sending a naked photo of yourself to your roommate Mingi, things take a turn. ❞

⇢ ONE QUESTION by @tenelkadjowrites (best friends!au, m) feat. hwa

❝ I was wondering how long it was into the friendship before the two of you realized that you want to sleep together?” ❞

⇢ SHY CAPTAIN by @rosy-wooyoung (basketball captain!mg, college!au, f, ☆)

❝ “Are those credits really unavoidable?” you asked your friend as you counted the number of credits you earned for the past two years. “Yeah,” she answered and you huffed. “If you don’t take part in any extracurricular activities, you won’t get enough credits to pass the year. It’s written in the rules.” ❞

⇢ SLOWLY, I´M GOING DOWN by @yutasbellybuttonpiercing​ (college!au, m)

❝ mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice.

or mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves. ❞

⇢ THIS NIGHT TOGETHER by @honeyhotteoks (werewolf!au, m, f, a) feat. yunho

❝ you’re finally getting your dream job, working with some of the best dancers in the business, but a job change means a break in your healthcare coverage and suppressants these days are expensive. going into heat at the studio pretty much seems like the worst case scenario, but you find yourself in the care of two alphas who won’t let you go through it alone. ❞

unfinished!

⇢ TWO IS BETTER THAN ONE by @songmingisthighs (f2l, m) feat. yunho

❝ Mingi’s sweater felt comfortable on you, it was warm and it smelled like him. Not just his perfume, but his own scent.. ❞

⇢ USE IT by @a-soft-hornytiny​ (m)

❝ Mingi has a huge dick but is shy about it and has no idea what to do with it. ❞

⇢ WE FELL IN LOVE IN AUGUST by @mingigoo (best friends brother!au, m, f)

❝ Believing that you were destined to be with your best friend seonghwa all your life, his little brother Mingi was never a thought in your mind. After reuniting with the brothers after years of being abroad, you had your mind set to get together with seonghwa—until Mingi stole your heart without warning. ❞

JUNG WOOYOUNG

⇢ GENTLE by @cheollipop (hybrid!au, m, f) feat. hwa

❝ desperate and whiny, your heat pheromones triggered wooyoung's feral instincts, forcing seonghwa to step in and teach him how to treat you properly. ❞

⇢ HEISTS AND CELEBRATIONS by @cheollipop (criminal!au, m) feat. san

❝ with the stolen necklace secured around your neck, wooyoung slumped back in his seat, fingers gripping the steering wheel while his eyes remained focused on the overhead mirror, watching his two partners celebrate another successful heist in the back of his van. ❞

⇢ MADE FOR THIS by @yoongiseesawmp3 (f2l, f, m, ☆)

❝ you’re volunteering for this year’s vacation bible school, and wooyoung’s little brother just so happens to be in your group. is it wrong of him to use kyungmin as his wing man? eh, who cares. wooyoung is just determined to get you to fall for him before the week is over, and he’ll do whatever it takes. ❞

⇢ MIDNIGHT KISSES by @mingigoo (bf2l, single parent!reader, m, f, light a, ☆)

❝ you weren’t sure how well you could raise your daughter as a single mother, but your best friend, Wooyoung, has been there every step of the way with no strings attached. When you decide that it’s time to try and date again, he realizes too late that his love for you doesn’t just stop at friendship. ❞

⇢ ONE MORE REP by @cheollipop (personal trainers!au, f2l, m) feat. san

❝ san got a little too excited watching you exercise in purple – his favourite colour – and wooyoung was nothing if not a tease. turning their attention back to you, they didn't expect to see you equally worked-up. ❞

⇢ TRY ME by @tenelkadjowrites (coworker!au, m, f, light a)

❝ Having to work with Wooyoung while your marriage is crumbling is frustrating. He’s a cocky brat and barely completes what he needs to. But when you find out your husband cheated on you, Wooyoung proves his worth in another way. ❞

⇢ PARTY OF THREE by @cybrsan (established realtionship!au, m) feat. san

❝ Things take an unexpected turn when Wooyoung walks in on you and San. ❞

⇢ PILLOW TALK by @jungkxook (fwb!au, m, f)

❝ so maybe asking your best friend to take your virginity is wrong for a number of reasons, but you swear you’re still just friends. nothing more, nor less ❞

⇢ SMILE FOR THE CAMERA by @yoongiseesawmp3 (youtuber!woo, brothers best friend!au, f)

❝ wooyoung is best friends with your brother, yeosang, so you get to see him a lot. that would be fine if you weren’t totally head over heels in love with him. now yeosang is onto you and you have to keep him from running his big mouth to wooyoung about your big fat crush. ❞

CHOI JONGHO

⇢ GET CLOSE TO ME by @honeyhotteoks (kinds e2l, m)

❝ you’re pretty sure he hates you. and you know you hate him, until a night out turns upside down. ❞

⇢ ...RAMEN BEFORE YOU GO by @mingigoo​ (neighbor!au, m, f)

❝ you thought things couldn’t get worse after finding a cat in the dumpster behind the liquor store, but now here you were, alone in your new apartment, staring at that damn cat that somehow got stuck behind the washing machine. You needed some strong hands….but the minute you met him, you didn’t want him to leave. Do you want some ramen before you go? ❞

⇢ PATIENCE by @sxcret-garden (established relationship, m)

OT8

⇢ HOTEL CALIFORNIA by @mint-yooxgi​ (yandere!au, a, m , f)

❝ You can check out any time you’d like, but you can never leave ❞

[arsnof]

ArsCo Presents the Inaugural Arsnof's Great American Yard Sard Comics and Sundry Sale 2024!

Hello there! I'm Arsnof. You may remember me from content such as "Canadian Illustrator", "Dungeon Mentat", or even "Transformers Meme". I'm here today to host a celebration of buying things, thinking they're so super cool, and then putting them away and never looking at them again. Comics, books, toys, anime, manga, CCGs, rare webcomic goodies, tiny figurines of yokai, a Little Golden Book adaptation of Gremlins that ends before midnight, Chuck Norris's Karate Kommandos, can you read Japanese because I can't, official Soul Coughing stickers, a hoard of well read Wizards and Toyfares, Funko Pops, feet pics (you can get off, but only if you can correctly diagnose what's wrong first), Transformers...

I could go on forever, but I got it, you want it, we can make a deal (no tongue).

Why is this happening? I'm shit broke and getting shitter. Going down like a Trump Casino. Guy paying his bills on time? I haven't heard that name in forever.

I've been taking care of my ailing father (tried to die on us three times so far this year) and the rest of my family (I don't owe you an explanation, cop) and then someone just up and decided to make my automobile a notomobile.

They didn't have insurance, but that's okay because we have full cov-*hand to ear*-what? We don't? Only comprehensive? Since when? FUCKING shit... Okay, but we still have uninsured motorist, so-four thousand? Four thousand. Dollars. $4,000. To replace an entire ass truck.

We are in desperate need of a car. I've got a lifetime of memories. You, on average, have some change sitting around. Can I have some? I'll trade you stuff.

I'm starting with my comics because they're easiest to catalogue. See something you like? HMU, as the kids say (please God don't let that be a sex thing) and I'll see what I can do. I'm giving the comic shop at which I used to work a vague preference, but I can be swayed.

Next up will be the trades and manga, DVDs of varied origin, toys, and so on.

Criminitly.

If life can stop kicking us in the gender neutral pain zone for five fucking minutes, @paulyollyoxxenfree and I will get back to handicrafts. They're getting back into the amiguroove and I'm going to hit the pad - finish and print Kitty, start Dr. Doctor. Stickers and stuff. I'm not shaving for a while to put me in mall Santa shape by Thanksgiving.

But what if you've got too much money and you're sick of it, but you hate being given things? I take donations. If you put a special request in the memo, I won't even give you the thanks. I'll just spit. I take requests.

Papal

Cache

Fuck, I don't know, antelope? My email - arsnof@gmail.com

I might make one of those kofi things.

Oh and, heheh, one more thing...

Launching in the fourth quarter 2024, ArsCo is proud to announce Alone With Arsnof, the happening new app that gives you the power to have some one-on-one time *gunshot* wit- *sudden fade to red-tinted black, gunshot echo. Sirens fade in. HE'S DOWN! OVER THERE! THE ROOF? A high-pitched whine. Bright light. The late afternoon sky comes into focus. Fireballs? The sun is so bright. Automatic gunfire. No, jets. Falling. Screams. Recognizable screams. Unrecognizable screams? Inhuman? The sun blinks*

[mirrorballpages]

Azriel leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as Cassian poured himself another glass of wine—his third bottle, at least. The conversation had dragged on for hours, moving in circles around the problems in Windhaven. Azriel had already gathered all the necessary intelligence, and Rhys had already made his decision, but Cassian, fueled by both frustration and alcohol, needed to vent.

It had been days since Elain’s vision, and Azriel was no closer to finding answers on the vines that surrounded her. He hated that. Hated that no matter how many books Clotho searched for, he still didn’t know exactly what was happening to her. The clock chimed nine, and a whisper curled against his ear.

She has moved to the kitchen.

Azriel barely resisted the urge to exhale in relief. The conversation at hand had shifted to Nesta, a discussion he wanted no part of. "I just don’t understand why she had to move out," Cassian grumbled, frustration thick in his voice.

Azriel pushed his chair back, standing smoothly. "You should ask her yourself," he murmured, already walking away. Rhys gave him a knowing glance but said nothing. His shadows trailed ahead, slipping through the townhouse like dark silk. She’s alone, they whispered.

Where were Nuala and Cerridwen? He assumed they had retired for the night, but he also selfishly didn’t care. The truth was, he wanted to be alone with Elain. The only times they had to themselves were those quiet, golden mornings in the garden, or the occasional late evenings once everyone else had gone to bed. Those hours before the rest of the house stirred, before duty or expectation pulled them apart.

He had learned her morning routine as intimately as he knew his own. She would wake just before sunrise, stretching lazily beneath her blankets before padding downstairs in a linen dress, her braid loose and sleep still clinging to her voice. She would grab a plate of breakfast, then head to the garden, humming softly as she worked. Azriel would always be waiting, perched on the garden bench or leaning against the wall, a fresh cup of tea already in hand for her. She always smiled when she saw him.

And that was why he left each morning before the others rose. Even if he slept in the House of Wind most nights, his mornings were with her. To keep it theirs. To keep this… whatever this was, private. Safe.

But tonight, alone in the kitchen, no one was here to witness them. When he stepped through the doorway, he saw her at the sink, the sleeves of her dress rolled up as she washed the last of the dishes. She turned when she heard him, smiling.

"Where are the twins?" he asked, reaching for a plate to dry. The dish towel felt almost foreign in his scarred hands—he was so used to using magic for small tasks like this. But if it meant more time with her, he’d dry every dish in the house by hand.

"I told them to go home. They work too much as it is," she said, glancing down at the soapy water. A small, hesitant pause. "Oh, I’m glad you’re here. I have a meeting tomorrow morning with a women - sorry, female - and her grandfather. They tend to a community garden in Riverbend Quarter, and it was damaged during the attack. I’m going to see if I can help."

A strand of hair slipped from her braid, curling against her cheek. She tucked it behind her ear, still looking at the water. "Do you mind showing me where it is? I haven’t been there before. If you’re too busy, I understand. I can ask Feyre—"

"Of course," he said before she could finish, careful to keep his voice even.

Inside, though? Fuck.

He could already see it...the way she’d look in the early morning light, her apron tied neatly over a soft linen dress, her hair woven into a braid but curling slightly at the ends. The way she’d hum as they walked, the city still quiet around them, her hand resting lightly on his arm, her touch sending warmth through his leathers and straight into his chest. She would stop to admire something, a bird, a patch of flowers, the way the light hit the rooftops just right. She always noticed things others didn’t. And he would watch her, pretending he wasn’t committing every little movement, every glance, every flicker of sunlight in her eyes to memory.

And if he were a luckier male…

He would pull her close, tilt her face toward his, and press his lips to hers, slow. His hands would be careful, tracing over the curve of her waist, memorizing the shape of her, the warmth of her. She would be soft beneath his touch, softer than anything he’d ever known, and he would hold her as if she were spun from the morning mist, something delicate that might slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful.

She would sigh against his lips, her breath warm, her fingers clutching at his leathers, pulling him closer. He would press deeper into her, his heartbeat hammering like war drums, his wings flaring slightly to balance himself—to ground himself—because touching her like this, having her like this, would unravel him completely.

He would whisper against her ear, his lips brushing that delicate skin, telling her how beautiful she was, how utterly magnificent she was. How he had spent centuries in darkness, but she—she—was the first light he had ever truly known. That she was more than just lovely, more than just kind, that she was extraordinary—the most divine thing he had ever beheld.

And she would look up at him with those soft, brown eyes, wonder pooling in their depths. She would smile, the kind of smile that could unmake a male, and it would be for him. Only for him.

He would kiss her again and again, pressing himself into her as if he could somehow etch himself into her soul, as if he could keep her forever. As if, for once in his life, he could have something good. Something his.

But then the vision would slip away, reality clawing its way back in, cruel and unyielding. Because he wasn’t that lucky.

Because she wasn’t his.

And so, instead of pulling her close, instead of tasting her, instead of worshipping her the way he ached to, he would keep his distance. He would let the silence stretch between them, his hands tightening on the dish towel instead of on her. And he would do what he always did—watch her from the shadows, longing for something he could never have. Because she deserved better than a male like him.

A timer dinged.

“Oh, the cookies are ready!” Elain sang, moving toward the oven, the soft swish of her dress brushing against the cabinets. The scent of oatmeal and melted chocolate filled the kitchen, warm and familiar. It was the kind of smell that made a place feel like home.

Azriel inhaled deeply. “Cassian’s favorite,” he murmured with a small smile.

Elain slid the baking sheet onto the counter, its edges gleaming in the dim kitchen light. “Don’t worry, I also made a few of yours,” she said, setting the tray down with a soft clink.

And there they were—two dark chocolate chip cookies, separate from the rest. For him. Azriel’s stomach tightened. It was such a small thing, insignificant to anyone else, but the fact that she had remembered, that she had thought of him as she baked—him, of all people—sent something warm unfurling in his chest.

Read The Rest on AO3

[romanitas]

friends, pals, countrymen, etc - here we are nearly ten years later with the final installment of my percabeth spy au. still kind of shocked after all this time i managed to finish it, but thanks for coming along for the ride! <3

here it is on ao3 ! this one's for you, spy au anons. -

Annabeth goes to the stupid aquarium. 

It takes her over a week to decide to use the tickets, if only as a favor to Sally. It takes her another few days of backtracking through old notes, determined to make sure she goes on one of the days Percy isn’t volunteering. She logics herself into it by determining it’ll be a conclusion - she’ll create the real ending for herself where she started it all first. One more visit, because she honestly doesn’t know if she’ll be able to hit up this particular aquarium ever again. She can say goodbye and create her own bookend. 

She wears her owl earrings, matched with a pair of leggings, with pockets, and a long tunic with an old jean jacket split open at one elbow. She doesn’t get to dress down much, with most of her wardrobe often carefully calculated for the task at hand. Today her only task is to look at some fucking fish and maybe get a strawberry milkshake from the overpriced cafeteria. She doesn’t even brush her hair. She thinks about inviting someone to come along, given she has two tickets, but she’s struck with the notion that she wouldn’t even know who to task. 

Reyna? Ridiculous. She’d get called out immediately for it being a bad idea. She almost texts Frank, but decides she needs to do this by herself. Maybe there’s a family she can pass off the other ticket to and that can be her good deed of the day. Sally would approve. 

She arrives at the lunch rush, slipping into the jellyfish quarter while most of the families are scurrying off to eat. She likes to say she thinks long and hard about her life, but mostly she allows herself to be distracted by the way they light up against the dark tanks. They float aimlessly and Annabeth wonders what the sensation is like as she watches them swim idly around, to be so weightless and mindless. 

She walks through the shark tunnel, dodging around running children. She spends a moment studying the arch of the tunnel itself, smiling to herself before she realizes. Maybe there’s a world out there where she did go the architecture route instead of espionage recruitment out of college. She doesn’t want to think about that, not when there are fish to observe. There are so many fish. Too many fish. If she’s honest with herself, they start to blur together after a while, and only the brightly colored ones stand out. 

Part of her hates to admit it, but she starts to feel calmer. Steadier. Like when she walks out of this place, she’ll be Annabeth Chase again and ready to stop moping like a goddamn idiot. 

She probably shouldn’t have saved the penguins for last. 

There are babies now, and Annabeth finds herself smiling at them in the tank. They don’t look too young, but she can’t tell how far from infancy they are at this point. She’s no expert. She just has wikipedia. She tries to remember what she’s read or learned about them, and even though she’d rather not think of the source, she’s not sure she’ll ever forget the facts. 

She’s watching one of the babies slowly and carefully slide into the water when she hears him. 

“Annabeth?”

Her entire body freezes, and she wants to disappear, maybe into one of the artificial icebergs. She looks sideways in the glass and finds the warped reflection of Percy Jackson staring at her from the left. Unfortunately for her desire to submerge, the glass is only transparent for eyes and not bodies. She takes a deep breath without moving her chest and slowly, carefully turns around, looking into his face for the first time in weeks. 

He looks tired. 

Percy stares at her, befuddled, but he’s made the first move by calling out to her. She hadn’t seen him. He could have just walked away and left her ignorant to his existence, but he hadn’t. And maybe it’s just his ADHD, but she selfishly thinks maybe he made the choice to get her attention - which means she has no choice of her own but to acknowledge him in return. 

She swallows. And then she gestures stupidly at the baby penguin behind her. “Did you know baby penguins have to be at least four months old before they can swim? It’s their feathers. They aren’t waterproof at birth.” 

He continues staring at her, and she has to fight the urge to literally run away. “I do know. I’m pretty sure I told you that.”

Shit, he did, didn’t he? She had pre-gamed enough penguin facts to steer their first conversation, but anything and everything she learned since came from his wealth of aquatic knowledge. “Oh. Yes. I just - there are babies now.” 

“Born just over four months ago,” he says, and his tone is the faintest bit teasing.

“Hatched by the males,” she adds on, without thinking. Like his attention to her architectural rants, she seems to have absorbed far too much about penguins, because she could keep going, and it’s only force of will that she doesn’t. 

His mouth quirks, almost a smile. She doesn’t know what to do with that. She wasn’t sure she’d get to see him smile again, stuck with the image of only his anger as a final parting gift. 

“Did you put a tracker on me?”

Annabeth doesn’t know what to do with that either, and she sputters. It’s ungraceful. Unprofessional. And she feels ashamed, despite the way his tone still sounds like a joke. “No - Percy, no, that’s - ”

He grimaces. “Sorry. It was a joke. I’m trying to not be awkward. It’s not working.”

She would very much like the earth to swallow her up. 

“I wouldn’t,” she insists, finally. Like she needs him to know that. 

He pauses. “Jason?”

Annabeth wrinkles her nose. She hates this turn of conversation, but she wants to let him steer it this time. “There were never any trackers.” 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, pivoting away on his own. 

“I’m visiting the penguins,” she says, with only sincerity. He studies her, like he’s trying to gauge how truthful it is. She fidgets, then adds on, “You weren’t supposed to be here.” 

He actually looks shyly taken aback. “I changed my days at the station. I thought it might be…” Safer, is the word he wants to use, she knows it, but instead he lets it hang in the air. “So I had to switch my day here too.”

Annabeth thinks she really should have accounted for that, because Percy can be obtuse but he’s not stupid. It was probably one of the first things he would have done, and she feels stupid for not considering it in her own plans. 

“Your mom gave me the tickets,” is what she says next in lieu of anything else. That’s part of why she’s here, duty to a simple kindness from Sally Jackson. 

Percy’s expression becomes puzzled. “You saw my mom?” 

Oh. That surprises her too. She assumed Sally would have passed it along. She nods. She does not say anything about her own conversation with his mother, because that means he really is here by pure happenstance, and she doesn’t know what to make of that. Everything about her interactions with Percy Jackson from the start has been pure calculation, and right now she feels like she is flying on the seat of her pants. There’s no end game, no goal, just spontaneity. 

Maybe she should lean into that instead. 

“She bought me a coffee.” 

“That… sounds like her.” He pauses. “I didn’t tell her anything. About - you know, your job stuff. All she knows is we broke up.”

He says it like it’s such a normal occurrence. They broke up, like a real couple does. They broke up, they’re no longer together, and not because she shot a man in front of him and lied about her entire existence. “She was probably too nice to me,” she admits. 

Percy looks up and studies her again, and she swallows nervously, both under his expression and the way he doesn’t refute her comment about his mom. “What did she tell you?”

There is a part of her that feels like she shouldn’t go there, but the other, louder, part of her doesn’t want to lie to him ever again. “She - she said you were miserable.”

His shoulders deflate. “Well. She’s not wrong.”

Annabeth stares at him. 

“Look,” he starts, running a hand through his hair. It makes the dark strands stick up in multiple directions, and she needs to clamp down on the urge to fix it for him like she used to. “I was really mad. Part of me still is. But… it was real to me, you know? I can’t just erase what I feel. I’m still working through it.” 

Her expression falls, her shoulders heavy too. “For what it’s worth,” she starts, not sure it’s worth much of anything, “I’ve been miserable too.” 

Percy’s face scrunches up. “Even though it was fake?”

She bites her lip. “I might have met you under false pretenses. But I wasn’t lying to you, when I told you it wasn’t fake to me anymore. I spent so much time with you that I found myself wishing more than anything else it was real. I promise. If you believe one thing I say, believe me now when I promise that I’m never going to lie to you again.” 

He looks up at her, green eyes scrutinizing her like she’s under a microscope. Instead of trying to hide or put up a front, Annabeth simply lets the unhappiness hang on her like a shroud. Her bag is falling off her shoulder, the dark circles almost feel physical beneath her eyes, and her hair is a borderline rat's nest. She was always very carefully put together in front of him, even when she was trying to appear casual. Nothing about her right now is pre-planned for Percy. In some ways, she’s glad for it. 

He just watches her, and his frown deepens. She bites her lip and resists the urge to look away at the penguins. 

“Okay,” he says, after a too long silence, and she stares at him like he spoke in Greek. “I believe you.”

Her jaw drops, but she smoothly closes it. Her voice is quiet, anxious, startled and hopeful all at once, and she can’t seem to compartmentalize any of it. “You do?”

Percy purses his lips, like he can’t believe what he’s saying either. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he says, gesturing, and Annabeth’s face goes red at her dishevelment. “It feels like I’m looking at the real Annabeth, you know?”

She barks out a laugh, then covers her mouth. “Sorry, that wasn’t - I’m just not really fit for polite company. Fish notwithstanding.” 

“Yeah,” he says, and he grins a little. “I think that’s why I believe you.” 

Annabeth swallows anxiously and blinks back a sudden onslaught of tears. “I’m sorry, Percy. I know it was my job, but you’re so… good. At some point, it started to feel like I wasn’t pretending. I realized I really, really liked being around you. Being your friend, being with you. You didn’t deserve me lying to you, regardless of how it started.”

The last time she apologized, they were arguing. Now he just looks at her. “Thank you,” he says. It’s not quite forgiveness, it’s not an ‘it’s okay’ or the standard follow up etiquette of apologies, but it’s better, she thinks, because it feels genuine. Like he is accepting the truth of it, that she is sorry, and the fact that he believes it settles in her in an odd way. 

“Are you still… you know. Uh, working?” 

She nearly laughs at his word choice. “I’m on break. And I’m not - I was pulled from the Jupiter Industries stuff. So I’m not… working.” 

“So you’re literally just here at the aquarium for fun?” 

She hesitates, though she doesn’t know why. “Yes. And, well, you know - Sally gave me the tickets. I felt like I should use them, after our conversation.” She pauses. “I think she’s worried about you.”

Percy runs a hand through his hair again. She knows he hates stressing his mother. She knows so many things about him that she can’t seem to put down. “She always worries too much. Can I ask what else she said to you?”

It’s phrased in a way that she could turn him down, but Annabeth has promised herself as well as him that she’s in the running to be honest. 

“She asked me if I wanted to fix things with you. I told her I didn’t know if I could.” It’s not all she asked. Annabeth just doesn’t know how to bring the other part up, or if she even should.

Percy frowns. “Do you… actually want to fix things?” 

Annabeth draws in a quiet breath. “I miss you,” she admits, and his face twists with surprise and what could be relief, but maybe she’s projecting. “But I wasn’t lying when I told her I didn’t know if I could. I hurt you. It’s not up to me to forgive myself for it, no matter how much I miss you.”

His frown deepens, but he doesn’t look unhappy - more like thoughtful. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me,” he mumbles. 

“I don’t think she wanted to interfere too much,” she offers quietly. “There’s one more thing.”

Percy looks up at her. 

Annabeth swallows again, but this time she’s pushing down her pride. “She asked me if I loved you.”

He looks at her carefully. “What did you tell her?”

She keeps his gaze. “I said I did.” She curls in on herself a little. “I do.”

Something in Percy Jackson deflates, but not in a way that suggests loss. It’s like he’s stopped carrying a heavy box. His shoulders sink, even if his face looks as confused as it does lighter. “It’s like everything in me wants to believe it. And I think I do,” he starts. 

Annabeth’s stomach flutters. 

“It’s crazy. Like, it’s so crazy to me that you still love me, because everything about it is so… wrong? No, not wrong - but we started wrong. We started wrong, but everything I felt was still so real. The bad and the good. I was really scared at that restaurant, for the obvious reasons - but I think I was scared about what it meant for us too.” Percy puffs out a breath of air, and his eyebrows crinkle. “I don’t have a good sense of self-preservation.”

Annabeth can barely breathe. She holds herself back from reaching for his arm. “Do you think… we could start over, and do it right?”

Percy studies her again, wary but curious. “What, like a do-over?”

“I guess. A re-meet.”

“A real meet-cute?”

She cracks a small smile. “I mean, I did run into you randomly in the aquarium.”

“Happenstance fishes.”

“We’re by the penguins,” she corrects, automatically. “Happenstance birds.”

Percy cracks his own smile, dimple pinching his cheek. “Did you know the babies don’t swim until they’re four months old?”

Annabeth’s smile widens. “You know, someone might have told me that already,” she starts. “But I could use a refresher.” 

“I’m still on shift,” he says, a little awkwardly. “But I’ll be done in about two hours.”

It takes a few moments for what he offers to sink in. It doesn’t seem fair or right to her at all that Percy Jackson is here before her, yet again in front of the stupid penguins, willingly telling her when he’s finished - offering to spend more time with her. But it’s better this time. There’s no frustration on her part, no trying to drag it out of him - he’s offering because he’s also offering her a chance, and Annabeth knows she is going to take it, regardless of how much she deserves it. She’s going to work to deserve it. Neither of them were forced to be here. She isn’t coercing him into a date. She’s letting him lead it. 

And he’s still choosing to see her. 

“I still have to visit some octopi,” she says, nerves alight, “But I could meet you back here in two hours…?” 

Percy’s silence is scary, but Annabeth gives him the time. It’s a final shot for him to back out if he wants to, and she won’t even blame him if he changes his mind even now. But he’s Percy. And somehow, she isn’t surprised by his answer. 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

Annabeth is going to cry all over again. She holds out her hand instead, and even though he gives her a confused look, Percy takes it. She shakes it, relishing the feeling of his palm against hers, the warmth spreading through her fingers as he squeezes it. She thought she’d never get to experience his touch again. 

“Hi,” she starts, feeling silly, but allowing herself to run with it. No more thinking or calculating, she’s just going with this strange flow. “I’m Annabeth Chase.”

He laughs, his own smile edging on silly too. “Percy Jackson. Hey.”

“Do you work here?” she asks, trying not to smile and failing completely. 

He shakes his head. “I just volunteer. I’m a firefighter.”

“You got some kind of affinity for water?”

He breaks into a grin that’s almost a laugh. “I’ve always liked the ocean.” He pauses then, hesitation slipping into his face. “What about you?” 

She studies his face, the kindness and the anger and everything in between flashing through her head. She’s already memorized it, but she can still bask in it anew. She doesn’t really know where she’s going from here, least of all with Percy, but she once again opts for honesty, even if nothing comes of it. “I’m thinking I might get into architecture.”

Percy looks surprised. “Sounds like a big change.”

Annabeth pulls her hand away, straightens her shoulders. “Sometimes a person comes along and gives you a whole new perspective on things.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll see. I’m working on it. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” 

“I think,” he says, hesitating, “You should do what makes you happy.” 

She laughs. “Again,” she says, quieter this time, “I’m working on it.” 

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re kind of hyper-competent.”

“Only kind of?” 

Percy snorts. “I just mean, you’ll probably figure it out.” 

She looks at him in wonder, that he could still stand there and offer a kindness to her after everything. It doesn’t surprise her, if she really thinks about it. She fell in love with him for a reason, after all. For a lot of reasons.

“I want you to know me,” she says suddenly, which goes against every single part of her existence as a spy, but Percy has already broken through all of those rules. She wants to be known, by him specifically, which is wildly scary and completely against all manner of protocol, but she is no longer lying to him. She promised. She promised and she wants to open up everything about herself that she’s kept quiet for him to witness. 

Percy’s mouth opens and closes like a nearby fish. “I know you like owls. That wasn’t fake.”

She blinks, and he gestures at her earrings. She touches one instinctively. “They’re my favorite. So is strawberry, and I do really love Gaudí, and I’m starting to really like penguins too.” 

“The penguins are pretty cool,” he says with a very small smile. 

A quiet settles over them after that, but Annabeth finds it’s not uncomfortable. There is going to be some awkwardness, but the thing about it right now is it doesn’t feel scary. All the scariest parts are behind her, and right now she is only looking at the new possibility of Percy Jackson in her life, in whatever capacity he allows. She’ll take any of it. He gets to set the pace this time, and she’s more than willing to allow it. 

“Thank you,” she says, finally. “For giving me another chance.” 

His grin is haphazard, lopsided, and maybe a little self-deprecating. “When I saw you standing there, there was a part of me that wanted to keep walking - but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. Maybe it makes me a little stupid. I really want to know you too. I want to keep knowing you.”  

“I’ve been stupid too,” she says with a shrug. “So we’re off to a great start.” 

“A start,” he says, huffing a laugh. “Not many people get to do that twice.” 

“No,” she agrees. “I thought I was coming here for an ending.”

Percy blinks at her. “I don’t really know what’ll happen, Annabeth.”

“That’s okay,” she says, breathing in deeply and relishing the way the air fills her lungs. She doesn’t know either. But that’s better than finality. “We can work on that too.”

His eyes flicker with a softness she knows she still doesn’t deserve, but she relishes in that too. “So… I guess I’ll see you again in about two hours?” He pauses. “We can get smoothies.”

“I like the Strawberry Whirl.” 

He pauses again. “I knew that had to be true.”

Annabeth laughs, and Percy beams, and she thinks somehow, some way, they’re going to be… okay. It might take time. She doesn’t know what it’s going to look like, fully expects a lot of difficult bridges, but it feels like a real chance she hadn’t expected. They could be friends. They could end up more. They could go absolutely nowhere and fall apart much more naturally, more smoothly, without blood and bullets - but she’s going to try very hard to avoid that. She’s going to be herself, and maybe that’ll be good enough for him to stick around. It’s the only way she’s going to enable the mere chance of it. 

As far as she’s concerned, anything involving Percy from now on is always going to be real. 

[lokilysolbitch]

Im having thoughts on the hunger games specifically catching fire

-HEY so anyone notice how the quarter quell is worse than the other usual games. notice how it takes the people who were already beaten down and beats down on them worse. HEY anyone notice how this book is right before mockingjay. HEY. hey guys are we noticing how it gets soooo much worse before it gets better. are we noticing the captiol gets more and more harsh right before mockingjay happens. are we fucking seeing the paralells you guys

-johanna is katniss with nothing to lose

-katniss is at the bottom of the food chain of Panem. katniss is the disabled, the poc trans women, (obv not literally, im connecting this to real life like the english teachers say to) (but also in the books she might be native? i think the books hinted at it but im not sure if suzanne said it outright) the most silenced voices put up on a stage. she isnt interested in saving panem. she is not the dystopian female main character girlboss. she doesnt want to be here. she doesnt want to change the world (at first). she wants to survive and go home. her existence is enough to shake up all of panem. her survival is enough to change everything. everything that happens after the first book is because she refused to let the capitol kill her.

-i understand we feel like its not enough, BUT ART IN THESE TIMES IS SO IMPORTANT. cinna's fashion choices, the performance peeta puts on for the camera's in interviews like in catching fire, these are art. and look what the capitol does to them afterwards. art has power and the capitol knows it

-along with art, healing has a place too and this is represented by prim

-wiress beetee and katniss autism bonding

-peeta is unconditional love, katniss is protection and survival instinct, gale is hate(that still comes from a survival instinct). peeta wants change, katniss wants safety, gale wants revenge. peeta on his own isn't safe, katniss on her own can save herself, and gale on his own kills prim commits friendly fire through blind rage. hatred of oppressors is not enough to change the world. you need love but you also need to be able to protect yourself and people you love. gale's anger motivates katniss and she is tempted to stay with him over peeta, and thats how a survival instinct works too. but you can't run off of just that. there's a reason she didnt end up choosing gale in mockingjay.

-gale is also really similar to katniss. so you can see the different paths the same traits can lead you down

-you see katniss's protective traits with wiress when she keeps saying tick tock and katniss ends up learning from her

-im watching catching fire rn and katniss is running from the jabberjays and just ran into the barrier that separates the wedges. peeta's on the other side consoling her and now im thinking about the fucking peeta is love katniss is survival thing like i have chills. love is consoling the survival instinct

-an underrated message of catching fire is not to underestimate the power of disruption

-thinking about how without peeta, katniss sends that arrow into the dome of the arena in catching fire. and then after that refuses to work with district 13 until they get peeta. so that survival instinct without love has a flare of productive hatred and then it just burns out

-so katniss is the girl on fire and peeta is what makes the flame be more than just a spark

[dancingtotuyo]

Scathed 10 (Javier Peña)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: anxiety, trauma, self worth, smoking, references to the drug war and colombia, Narcos season 3 spoilers

Notes: Thank you @janaispunk for always beta reading for me. I love you!

Words: 3956

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry September 4th, 1994 Dear Javi,

So it’s been a month since you left. I’m trying not to be hurt by the lack of communication. Dad said you’re alive. The reports out of Colombia sound like you’re doing well even. I know you called your dad. He mentioned it at Ale’s riding lesson. 

School is kicking my ass. Passing the GED and actually going to class is a huge fucking difference. For the most part, I’ve managed the social situations fine. Classes are small, I can sit in the back. People don’t notice the old lady in the back. I’m pretty sure I’m only retaining a quarter of what I need to. I’m on too high of alert. I knew it would be hard, but it feels like my anxiety has gotten worse again. I feel like I’m moving backward. 

Standing outside the Embassy, Javier lit a cigarette. The habit had returned in full as he fought to manage the stress of the day and ghosts of the night. He’d managed to keep his bed empty and his ashtray full. It felt like the better option of the two. 

He still hadn’t called home. His voicemail still held last week’s message from Alejandra. He fought with himself every night. The push and the pull to talk to Emily, but every night ended the same, drowning in smoke and whiskey. He wasn’t clean enough to have her or the kids. It was better this way. 

He felt useless down here. What good was the DEA if they weren’t going to actually do any enforcing. He and the whole agency were just expensive window dressing here to make it look like everything was above board, to get the DEA stamp of approval on this surrender deal. Javier hated it all.  

“Can I get one of those?” A woman appeared next to him, her dirty blond curls threaded with the soft grays and white of aging. Javier offered one up in a silence. “I quit four months ago.” She smiled before bringing it to her lips.

Javier cocked his head to the side, still assessing her motives. He hadn’t seen her around before. She wanted something, Javier just couldn’t decide what. He lit the cigarette for her as they both took a drag, sizing one another up as they did. 

He briefly wondered if her hair style was what Emily had in mind when she mentioned cutting it shorter. He still preferred the idea of her long curls. His chest tightened. Not that he had any right to a say in that. 

The woman squared up to him. “Carolina Alvarez, El Tiempo.” She held out her hand.

Just what he needed, the press. He let her hand hang in the air just long enough to make her feel uneasy before taking it with an admittedly poor handshake. As he suspected, it didn’t take long for her to launch into whatever introduction she had planned, pulling up his history with Los Pepes and the current politics happening with Cali’s plea deal. 

It was a power play. Javier refused to let her win. “You can call the press office if you want a comment, Miss Alvarez.”

“Carolina, please,” she said.

In another life, Javier wouldn’t give her the time of day. Of course, he didn’t have to deal with the press last time. That had been above his pay grade. He tossed the cigarette butt to the ground, stomping it out with his foot. Of course, he didn’t have to deal with her now. That was what the press office was for. “Have a nice day.” He turned, started to walk away. 

“Have you heard much about the Cali accident?” she asked. His steps slowed down. He turned back around. “Four more people dead. Children. Dozens more sick.” She stepped toward him. “An empty chlorine gas canister was found nearby.”

Javier kept his face straight. His shoulders tensed. He’d seen the initial report, but hadn’t thought too much about it. 

Caroline continued, taking his silence for permission. “There’s a rumor its manufacturer is linked to a front company operated by the Cali Cartel.”

“It’s like you said, it was an accident,” Javier said, expression etched in stone, not giving anything away. 

Carolina let out a humorless chuckle. “By the end of the day it will be. No matter what the truth is.” She met his eye, giving it a second for emphasis before lapsing into Spanish. “Thank you for the cigarette.” 

She walked away, leaving Javier in the same place, same expression on his face. He fought against his surging emotions. He wasn’t going to let some journalist use him to do her research. Even so, it nagged on him throughout the day. He found himself taking extra smoke breaks.  

When he found himself watching the evening news, the investigator calling it an accident, caused by a natural gas leak, Javier felt anger surge through him. How many families had to be torn apart to protect these men? Innocent children had died. Mothers had children to bury. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t justice. 

Pictures flashed across the screen, the children killed by the exposure. He’d seen children die before. He’d watched a man he respected shoot a teenager in the head as a warning. He’d held a gun to a kid. Those incidents had messed with his head enough, but these kids were in their homes, tucked into their beds. They were supposed to be safe. How many times had Javier watched as Emily ushered her children to bed, kissed their heads, and trusted that they'd be safe in their bed. That they would wake up. 

Javier was never good at guessing the ages of kids, but each face that flashes across the screen seems to remind him of them. Miguelito. Alejandra. Mateo. Children he’d grown to know, to love even…

This wasn’t right. Cali didn’t get to get away with it. Not this time. He shut the TV off, walking over to Chris Feistl’s desk. He leaned against the wall. “You got a partner, right?”

Chris looked up at him, confused and a little shocked. “Uh, yeah. Kinda.”

Maybe it could be different this time. Maybe he could still bring justice. 

“Good, you’re going to Cali.” He walked away before Feistl could respond. 

This time would be different.

Journal Entry September 18th, 1994 Dear Javi,

It hurts not to hear from you. Dad said all reports from Colombia have been good. I’m sure you’re getting restless. 

I had a panic attack in class this week. I had to leave ten minutes into the class. I hadn’t had one since Escobar was killed. That’s the longest I’d been without one since I came home. I was starting to think maybe I’d never have one again. 

I feel… disappointed. 

Javier met Carolina at a cafe. She gave him information about Cali's money launderer, Franklin Jurado. She pushed him in a way he needed just as she had in their first meeting. It seemed weird that perhaps his moral compass would come in the form of a nosy journalist. 

“Are you going to take these men on or what?” she asked.

Javier let out a quick breath, formulating his answer very carefully. “I’m going to do my job.”

“And your bosses?” Her gaze was piercing, like she was trying to see his soul or haunt his dreams until the job was done. “Do they know what you’re doing?”

His eyes drifted to his coffee. “No comment,” he said, putting the cup to his lips, pinning her with a soft glare he was sure she saw right through. 

She called him with the address an hour after he left.

Javier didn’t have to sit long before Franklin appeared on the steps, bags in tow. He was going somewhere, but where was the question. A driver appeared, helping the man with his bags and once they were packed, a woman walked toward him. Javier watched from his SUV as Franklin took her hand. She didn’t look happy to be saying goodbye, and then he held her tight. 

A pang shot through Javier’s chest as the blonde woman folded into her husband’s arms. She didn’t want him to go, but she was there to say goodbye anyway. An image of Emily flashed through his mind. The night before he left, she hadn’t cried, but he saw it in her eyes, felt it in the way she hugged him. He wondered if his coldness had made her cry since that night. This was better for her. She would be better off without him. He let out a sigh as he turned the ignition to follow Franklin’s, cutting off the thought before it wracked his body with guilt. 

After following Jurado to the airport, Javier headed for his own flight to follow him. Stechner blocked it, pulling him into the jungle with a couple of senators to rub elbows, to take him out like a show pony, the man who brought down Escobar, except he wasn’t even in the country when that happened. Everyone seems to ignore that part. 

He seethed on the helicopter ride in, feigning a broken headset to avoid talking. There were plenty of other places Javier would rather be, anywhere else really. He was supposed to be taking down Cali, despite what his orders were. Hell, he’d rather run for his life through the communas again than take a couple of stuffy senators on a stroll through the jungle. 

Humidity hung heavy in the air as sweat soaked his shirt. He was used to the weather, but in dress shoes and slacks it was hell. To make it all worse, it was apparent from the get go that it was a set up, a fancy, high tailed lie to raise support for whatever the CIA was gunning for, fighting communists or whatever. Javier found the whole pursuit to be a gigantic waste of time. He’d smuggled a communist out of the country once, he’d do it again without a second thought, but one thing became abundantly clear. Cali’s surrender had nothing to do with the war on drugs and everything to do with fundraising. 

Javier’s blood boiled the entire ride home, replaying his conversation with Stechner. The way the CIA agent had laughed about the drug war as if it was a joke. Maybe it was, but Javier wasn’t ready to let this one go. 

“The drug war? We lost it. You were there!”

It echoed on a fucking loop, driving him crazy as he made his way back home. There weren’t enough cigarettes in the world to numb the blows and they kept coming. 

“Did you ever stop to think that someone who takes this as personally as you do, is doing it wrong?”

He stubbed out the bud against his truck door as he got out, marching up the steps as he knocked on the door. 

This was personal. He couldn’t go home empty handed. He couldn’t face her without knowing he’d made an impact on this fight, brought down men like the one who’d inflicted such scars on her.  

Colonel Martinez opened the door, breaking Javier from his thoughts. He looked surprised to see him. 

Javier cut to the chase. “Want to go after Gilberto Rodriguez?”

Journal Entry October 2nd, 1994 Javi,

Where the fuck are you? It feels like my best friend abandoned me. You abandoned me. 

The day they arrested Gilberto Rodriguez, Javier went through the wringer, the emotional ups and downs. The DEA was excited. The bullpen had given him a round of applause, wanted to toast him. He didn’t like that. The ambassador had torn him a new one. Javier wasn’t a fan of that either. A meeting of high ranking Colombian officials with the American representatives showed the scope. Some felt this gave them more leverage while others feared it would make things worse, but the president ordered that Gilberto go through the same process as any other citizen. Javier considered that a win. He didn’t take pleasure in the press conference. 

By the time he made it back to the office, he had a killer headache, but it was thankfully empty by then. Javier pulled out the whiskey and the cigarettes. He didn’t necessarily feel happy, but he felt as if he’d done something finally.

Javier didn’t stop to celebrate or rest. He turned focus right back to Franklin Jurado, refocusing his attention on the launderer, but not before stopping to put a big, red X through Gilberto’s picture. That brought him a moment of happiness, but he paused to wonder.

He wondered if she had heard the news, seen the press conference. Did Emily know how much of a driving force she was to him? How much he wanted to clear the earth of every single cartel and drug boss, to make her feel safe again. For a second, he contemplated calling her. Could he know? Had he atoned enough? He shook his head at the thought, gripping the marker tightly in his hand. He would never atone enough. 

“This is Peña. Leave a message.” BEEP

“Mr. Javi. It’s me. Alejandrina.”

“I’m here too!” Mateo’s voice called out, sounding more distant than his sister’s. 

“Miguelito is here too. Mom is working in the yard.”

“You shouldn’t be doing this!” Miguelito said. “Grandpa is going to see it on the phone bill.”

“You never called me back.” Alejandra continued. “I saw you on the news in grandpa’s office. He didn’t know I saw. It sounded like you caught the bad guys. Can you come home now?”

“There’s more than one bad guy.” Miguelito reminded her. 

Alejandra sighed frustratedly as she went off in Spanish at her older brother. There was static on the receiver and then Mateo started talking as his older siblings fought in the background. 

“Mr. Javi. Stay safe. We love you. Bye.” The machine clicked off. 

Javier spent the next week in meetings getting berated or praised for the DEA’s actions, but mostly the berated. The doubt crept in at times. Maybe he should have left well enough alone, but it never stayed for long. He’d done the right thing. He was certain of that. 

Neil spent most of his time listening to the Jurado tapes in search of a location of Franklin. Nothing was turning up yet, but he still held out hope. Each conversation Franklin and his wife had tugged on something in Javier’s heart. Maybe it was the way she begged him to turn himself in, her worry, the anxiety. 

Even as he sat at the end of the bar, eyes pinned to Christina Jurado, Javier felt the guilt ebbing at him. Last year, he wouldn’t have thought twice about using Christina’s situation to get the information. It was easy enough, buy her a drink, pull out the charm, trick her into telling him where Franklin was. So why did he feel so damn bad about it? Why could he only picture Emily in the same position? 

Her situation had been nothing like this. They were two separate people in two separate realities. So why was he struggling with this? Why couldn’t he separate the two women? He should call her. 

Javier shook his head, waving the bartender over. He ordered a drink for Christina, clearing his head and dusting off the charm as he waited for the drink to be delivered. 

She looked annoyed at first, but the moment his English caught her ears, he watched her entire demeanor change. Javier knew he had it in the bag, but it didn’t feel as good as it used to. And then the words slipped out, almost like his mouth had a mind of its own. 

“You reminded me of someone. Someone from home.”

She liked that line, but he wanted to shower the moment he said it. What right did he have to utter even her existence in this place? None, but he’d done it anyway. Further evidence that he’d done the right thing by not calling her. 

Even through the guilt gnawing at him, Javier played the dutiful flirt. Almost lost himself in it, almost dared to enjoy it.

“So what could pull him away from-” He looked her up and down. “From all this.”

The words repeated in his mind. What could pull him away from her? In both cases the answer was the same. The Drug War. This all powerful thing that had left him battered and bruised yet kept drawing him back in. 

Christina paused, gave him another once over and then slid from her seat. “Say hi to Texas for me.”

Javi gave her credit, she was committed to her husband, or maybe his flirting skills weren’t as good as they used to be, either way, it was plan B. He called out the name she’d never told him, told her who he was, and she all but spit in his face. 

When Javier showed up at her front door later that day, she didn’t turn him away. He may not have learned where Franklin was, but she gave him the time of day. She listened. She all but told him she would try to convince her husband to turn himself in. She couldn’t look at him, didn’t look at him as he set his card on the coffee table, a far away look in her eyes, no doubt replaying the past, just like Emily when- Javier cut the thought off. This wasn’t her. This was different. 

He reasoned that he was doing this to help Christina, to keep her safe, but he knew that wasn’t true, his own selfish motives landing in the forefront of his mind. It was for the greater good, but how many people had he harmed for the greater good? 

Before he left, Javier vowed to keep Christina out of harm’s way. It was the least he could do. This time would be different.

It worked. Christina called Franklin almost as soon as he left. By the grace of god, the tap caught the man thanking someone in the language, specific enough to track him down to Curaçao. 

Before the night was over, Javier sat at the airport bar tapping his fingers against the smooth surface. He still couldn’t shake the feeling, the deceit of it all. He was caught off guard when his SAT phone rang. He answered, keeping an eye out at the bar around him. 

“Peña,” He answered, taking a sip of his whiskey. 

“Uh, it’s me… Christina Jurado.”

“I’m glad you called… You okay?”

“Please don’t lie to me,” Christina said. She sounded nervous, worried. “If I do this- if I get my husband to- you can protect us? We can go home?”

Javier’s chest tightened. He finished off his drink. “You have my word.” But he didn’t know how much his word carried these days.

She hesitated before answering. “I talked to him.”

“You did? That’s good.”

“He’s gonna cooperate.”

“He said that?” Javier picked up his duffel bag.

“No, not yet- but he will. I just… I need a little time.”

“That’s fine.” Javier walked down the terminal. “You take all the time you need.” 

He hung up without another exchange, just before his flight was announced over the intercom. Internally, he repeated his early promise. He’d keep her safe. 

Journal Entry October 15th, 1994

I dropped my classes today. I haven’t been able to make it to class. I thought I could do it. You thought I could do it…

Javier had almost forgotten the adrenaline rush of chasing down the bad guys. The hunt for Gilberto had been one thing, but the thrill of actually chasing someone down, weaving through the crowds, finally getting him. It felt good. It felt like a win when even his wins felt like losses these days. 

In all of Javier’s days in law enforcement, he’d never had someone ask about their wife. Never had anyone worried for anyone’s safety but their own, and he assured Franklin that she would meet them in Miami. 

Javier couldn’t help but admire the Jurado’s commitment to one another. For one, it made it a lot easier to get his witness, yet there was something about them. Tangled up in this mess, but still committed, still loving each other. 

As they landed, his phone rang again. Christina called him, freaking out about the men at her apartment. He had to tell her they’d arrested him. She reacted as he expected, upset and anxious, and surprisingly, his guilt had subsided. Maybe it was because they had Franklin. Maybe it was because he knew if she could get herself to the embassy, she would be safe. He’d done it. He’d brought Franklin in, and he hadn’t destroyed a family in the process. She just needed to get herself a couple miles before they found out Franklin was in custody.

“Christina, you want it, this is it.” He cut off her rambling firmly. “As soon as we hang up the phone, you get yourself to the American embassy. You don’t talk to anyone. You don’t call anyone. You get yourself there.”

He caught the whispers of her agreement before the line went dead. 

He paused a second after the call ended, staring at the keypad. Maybe it was the American soil. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually starting to feel good about this. He thought about calling for real, so close to punching the numbers he had memorized. Then he was reminded that he was on the tarmac. The job wasn’t done, but afterward, maybe he would call her. Except, Christina never made it to the embassy. 

An envelope with Emily’s handwriting greeted Javier when he got back to his apartment in Colombia. The return address confirmed it as he stared at it in the dim light of his apartment, rereading the address like he might catch a clue to its contents in the ink strokes. He debated opening it. The kids’ secret phone call to him from a couple weeks ago, the only message that accompanied Emily’s on his answering machine, ran through his mind. 

It was too late for this. It had been a long couple of days. The guilt that had returned tenfold since he left Miami without calling Emily, with Christina’s whereabouts unknown, but he ripped the seal open anyway. 

It was likely Emily ripping him apart, angry with him for abandoning her. Even the kids’ voicemail hadn’t been enough to make him call. He didn’t deserve them. Any of them. He was better off out of their lives.

He rubbed his forehead as he unfolded the paper, but it wasn’t words that greeted him, but bright colors and advanced stick figures drawn in crayon, five people. He furrowed his brow, looking back at the envelope. In the corner was Alejandra’s name atop the return address. In the picture, two adults, three kids, and a couple of horses all smiled back at him. He couldn’t help his own smile that ghosted his lips. Paz and Hurricane. His heart clenched. He hoped that Ale was still taking lessons at the ranch, and the boys practicing with the lasso. Alejandra had written their names above each person. 

He’d been a dick. Hadn’t returned calls like he said he would, promised he would, but Ale still wanted him to have this, Emily still sent it. She didn’t have to. She could have lied and thrown it in the trash instead. 

Javier cleared his throat as the page began to blur a little bit. He needed to go to sleep. He grabbed the maintenance magnet, using it to pin the drawing to his fridge. 

This time would be different. 

...........................................................

Taglist: @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @burntheedges @southernbe @fanyyoouu @greengirlwurld

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @weho2kcmo

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐗𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒.

DAY TWELVE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: vampire court au + "forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you."

pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader, max phillips x oberyn, max phillips x reader x oberyn

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, enemies to lovers

summary: after you left the court and hence Oberyn, no one is eager to forgive you for your betrayal. Especially those closest to you.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: everyone's a vampire including reader, orgies, voyeurism, mlm, threesome, sub!max, switch!reader, dom!oberyn, this is hella explicit btw so read accordingly, rimming, ass play, anal sex (oberyn x max), piv (max x reader), biting, mild mention of blood because vampires

a/n: and this concludes the last day of haunted hoedown! thank you for joining in everyone, I appreciate it! (also this was normally just supposed to be oberyn and reader but oh well, gotta go big am I right?)

Your steps echo down the hall, the ends of your dress trailing behind you, swiping against shiny marble. You’ve hated coming back here. Hated seeing the pity and the mockery in the eyes of the rest of the court. But you had no choice. You knew Oberyn would take you back, in a sick twist of faith, you did belong to him after all. He was a part of you as much as you were a part of him. He had looked at you with anger, betrayal. In a similar fashion, he too had thought you’d left for selfish purposes but it was so much more than that. 

So much more. 

Now you’re basically the errand girl despite your status. You were made to be a guardian. A protector. Lords began to turn humans for this sole purpose. When a human is turned, they are more loyal to the vampire that turned them. The bond would be strong which made most of them lay down their lives for the one who turned them, the one that gave them eternal life. However, like many things, there was a catch: the vampire had to save the human before turning them. It could be from something minimal or something grand, the grander the threat, the more passionate the new vampire would be to protect. 

Of course higher vampires didn’t really care, they just wanted guardians. With time they began to cause the threats that would require the human to be saved themselves. It was a scummy thing to do, but there were no rules dictating otherwise. 

Oberyn was different. You would know, he was the one that had turned you. 

He actually saved his humans, be it from psychological harm or physical, he saved them and gave them a choice. They could live out their lives however they pleased, they didn’t have to be guardians. And despite the choice, they all stayed. Oberyn provided protection, pleasure, and eternal life. 

So everyone stayed. 

Everyone except for you. 

You stand still at the lord’s quarters. You don’t need to see to know what’s happening on the other side. Lustful moans, the sound of skin smacking against skin—sinful sounds that set a wildfire between your legs. You haven’t been touched since you left, your body remembers his touch, how he would linger and taste. . . 

You inhale a sharp breath and knock—loudly. 

“The door is open.” 

Oberyn. He sounds disinterested already. 

You push the large doors open and the sight before you is exactly what you expected. 

Men and women kissing, sucking, fucking. They’re all lost in the pleasure, their moans mixing and becoming a beautiful melody. Your nipple grows tight at the sight, your legs slightly buckling under your weight. 

Oberyn, of course, is playing with his favorite toy. Max Phillips. The younger vampire is sitting between Oberyn’s spread legs, his cock wrapped with the lord’s fingers. They both gaze upon you at the same time, one cold and one heated—though the warmth of that gaze has nothing to do with you and has everything to do with the fist around his length.

Max smiles crookedly, a puff of air escaping his lips as his hips thrust into Oberyn’s fists. The lord’s eyes drop to his lover’s, lips curling with amusement, “Needy.”  

His eyes harden when you clear your throat, “What do you want?” he asks, tone dripping venom. “I am busy, as you can probably tell.” 

“I’ve been informed to tell you the meeting for tonight is rescheduled for tomorrow.” he shoots you a glare and you add. “My lord.” 

You hate calling him that. He never made you call that before, Max also didn’t call him that. It just proved to everyone that you were now nothing but an outsider within your home. Your heart drops. You always hated being an outcast. 

Oberyn’s hand stills on Max’s cock and the latter whines pathetically into the air, a bead of precome trickling down his length and over Oberyn’s knuckles. You meet his gaze. He gazes at you for a second later before commanding the rest to leave. If they’re startled, they don’t show it—they just move the party elsewhere, leaving only you, Oberyn, and Max. 

The younger vampire makes way to leave but Oberyn stops him, “Stay,” he murmurs, dragging his lips down his neck. Max shudders, his cock twitching eagerly. 

You swallow as Oberyn approaches you, his body bare and cock jutting darkly between his legs. You focus your gaze on his face and find it hard not to look down. His smile is mischievous, “You look troubled,” he says. 

“I’m not, my lord,” you add a bit more attitude this time, prompting the raise of his brows. You notice Mac looking towards you curiously, his back against the headboard of the rather large bed. 

“You do understand you brought this upon yourself, do you not?” he says. “I do not enjoy punishing my subjects unless it is for pleasure. You were free and you chose to betray me instead.” 

In your defense, you wouldn’t exactly call what you did a betrayal. 

“I understand.” 

He’s irritated. You can tell by the way his jaw twitches, “Forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you,” he spits out, angry. This time you do look away, feeling too much all at once. “Not only did you leave after your oath, you left to join another court,” he seers. “And then when they throw you to the street what do you do? Come crawling back with your tail between your legs. You took advantage of my kindness and the peace of this court. Pathetic.” 

It all happens in the blink of an eye. Your anger flares, overtakes every fiber of your being, and before you know it the flat of your palm connects with his cheek. The sound of it echoes through the chamber. From the corner of your eyes, you see Max’s eyes going wide, his body going tense as he straightens up to subdue you if need be.  

Your slap hadn’t done much to Oberyn. It had simply resulted in a slight turn of his head, the lack of effect you have on him angers you further, and you attempt to smack him again—

However, as unaffected as he might be, he doesn’t allow it. 

You grit your teeth at the way he holds your wrist, his fingers too tight around your bone. You attempt to snatch your arm back but he doesn’t allow that either, he flashes you his fangs, eyes momentarily turning purple before resuming their warm brown color. 

“Careful there little fox, you don’t want to be angering my favorite guardian now, would you?” 

Your eyes snap to Max who is now standing, a sheet loosely wrapped between his waist. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t look angry only worried. 

Once more you pull your hand to break free of your hold but the effort only makes him smile, showing your fangs, you hiss. “Let go of me, Oberyn.” 

He lets go of the fact that you used his name. 

“Why so angry all of a sudden?” he rolls his tongue over every syllable. “Did you not leave? Did you not go and work for the court who murdered my sister? Do not expect forgiveness.” the pink of his tongue moves over his bottom lip. “I was sad when you left. And when I grow sad. . . I grow angry.” 

“I did not have a choice!” your voice booms against the walls, startling both him and Oberyn, taking advantage of it, you snatch your hand away. “You do not know what’s it like to have a bond you cannot control, to be tethered to you in a way that I would lay down my life for you. He does,” you point at Max, his lips are tight, his gaze hard. You look back to Oberyn. “But you do not. It overwhelmed me Oberyn. I was scared of it. I was scared of feeling so much so suddenly and left because of it. They were the only court that would take me in. No one else dared.” you hiss out. “I did not enjoy it. I did not revel in the fact of being away from my home—from you. I was thrown away because they noticed I purposefully caused more harm than good.” 

His lips part but you don’t allow him to say anything, “You do not get to call me pathetic. Especially since you do not know how it feels to be us.” 

Your heart rams against your chest, your breath coming in short, quick pants. You have no idea what comes after this. Do you leave? Do you say something else? Do you apologize? Your thoughts are a hurricane, scattered and constantly spinning. 

Oberyn’s gaze lingers a second longer before turning around and heading to the bed, “Very well,” he says, pulling Max back between his legs. “Come and join us, little fox. You want to, I saw it in your eyes when you first came in.” 

Your mouth opens, closes, and then opens back up again, “Is that all you have to say?” 

Oberyn’s hands move down the inside of Max’s thighs, he still seems on edge but melts when he squeezes his plump flesh. A fresh wave of arousal dampens the fabric of your underwear. 

“You should have told me before you left,” he says and kisses Max’s neck before he continues. “I would have tended to you, make the process easier. I would have looked after you. I know how hard your. . . previous life was. However, I still can not fully forgive you for leaving to work with them. No matter how much chaos you might have caused there. That will take time. But. . . in the meanwhile,” Oberyn suddenly grips Max is jaw, forcing the other’s gaze onto you. He slips two fingers into his mouth and Max sucks greedily, the sheets falling away from his waist. “You may resume being my guard again. This one. . . this one has missed you greatly.” 

Heat blossoms all over the expanse of your skin, your arousal growing as Max averts his eyes, “Has he now?” you mutter, knowing that they both heard you cristal clearly. Oberyn’s grin is predatory. 

“He has,” Oberyn roughly jerks Max’s cock and he moans around the thick fingers in his mouth. “Look how aroused he gets with you watching, such a good boy.” 

Max’s hips jerk and a loud whine rattle in his throat, Oberyn only cackles, “Tell her.” he commands as he pulls out his fingers. 

“I am not telling her that,” Max says, the first words you’ve heard him speak of since you entered the chamber. “Just because you are eager to forgive and forget doesn’t mean I have to.” 

“Such a brat,” Oberyn hisses, eyes finding yours. “Well, I guess you need to make him forgive you,” he teases. “I would start by sucking his cock.” 

Max’s lips split into a wide smile, “That might work.” 

You fight against the urge to roll your eyes, your lips tug in a half smile, your heart feeling light and playful. Both of their eyes eat you up as you drop your charcoal dress to the floor. Max’s cock twitches repeatedly within Oberyn’s palm, eager to feel your lips. You share his enthusiasm as you climb the bed. The sheets soft like velvet under your knees. 

“You want me to suck your cock?” you tease and pry away Oberyn’s fingers. Max doesn’t say a word, lips shut tight as he pushes himself back further into Oberyn’s chest. The lord grins. He teases the sensitive skin between Max’s ear with his fangs. “If you don’t tell me I can’t give you what you want.” 

He snarls, “Yes, I want you to suck my cock,” then he adds with a smug grin. “I’ve missed seeing you gag around it princess.” 

You try very hard to hide how his words affect you but it’s for naught. His grin only widens at the sight of your very visible shudder. When you drop your gaze to his torso, he quickly forces your gaze back up by sneaking two fingers under your chin. He holds your gaze only for a moment before sliding his hand to the back of your neck and pushing you down. 

You slide your tongue underneath as you take him into your mouth. You’ve forgotten how much you had to part your lips to wrap your lips around him. Max groans loudly, thrusting shallowly between your lips. 

“Does that feel good, pet?” Oberyn asks Max. “You’ve missed that eager mouth a lot, huh?” 

Max makes an affirmative sound and presses his lips against Oberyn’s, you hear both their moans as they devour each other, tongues lacing together in a messy claim of mouths. 

You take him further down your throat and pull back, Max breaks the kiss with a gasp and looks down. He watches you with blown eyes, his brows furrowing with pleasure as you allow a sting of spit to fall to the slit. Oberyn continuously decorates the other’s neck with fleeting kisses, soothing his nerves. Your eyes fluttering but not closing, you push his cock to his pelvis and lick the skin that leads to his hole. A choked moan rips from his throat and you head Oberyn shushing him immediately after. 

Stroking his cock, you press your lips against his cute little hole and trace the rim with the tip of your tongue. He follows the movements of your tongue, inching closer, whimpers of your name fall one by one, you fight the urge to touch yourself and instead, you push your tongue inside. 

“F—Fuck,” he gasps. “Shit shit— that feels so good, don’t stop—” 

You smile as you force your tongue deeper, Oberyn chuckles, “You never get this desperate with me,” he says sounding almost jealous. His next words are directed at you. “Get him wet and ready for me.” 

You hum with approval, spitting again before pressing your mouth. Max ruts into your tight fist, whining and groaning as you prepare him for Oberyn. You feel his hand in your hair, his needy tugs while he attempts to both push you away and pull you closer. You squeeze his thighs, thrust your tongue deeper into him. 

His back arches and his body shakes, parting away, you look at him through heavy lashes. Max looks at you with a hooded gaze, swimming in lust, he only understands the look you’re giving him when you slowly open your mouth and show your fangs, “I missed the taste of you on my tongue,” you say, breath hitching. 

Oberyn looks at you with interest and amusement, his gaze quickly moves to Max. 

He blinks heavily, lips parting, he spreads his legs further, giving you a delicious view of his flesh, “Go ahead,” he murmurs. 

You accept the invitation gleefully. You kiss the inside of his thigh before grazing the sharp edges of your teeth against it. Only those who truly care to sink their teeth into one another because it is done out of choice, not hunger. You lick the salt of his skin before biting in, you feel the puncture of skin and flesh against your teeth, the flood of warm blood trickling down your throat. Max shudders, with the corner of your eyes you see him burrowing into Oberyn’s neck who is holding him tightly as you swallow. 

Max tastes sweet. He always has, despite his sometimes unagreeable personality. Warm blood trickles from the corner of your lips, down your throat, he kisses and nips at Oberyn’s strong neck. 

When you part, you’re whole again. 

“Come here,” Oberyn mutters and without waiting, he grabs you by the neck and crashes your lips together. He slides his tongue over yours, tasting Max, he swallows the moans you make. Meanwhile, Max’s fingers trace between your wet folds, swirl around your clit. He bites the top swell of your breast and you flinch, yet leans into the sharp pain at the same time. 

“I want you so bad,” Max groans between swallows. “You taste so sweet.” 

“Do you want him to fuck you?” Oberyn asks against your lips. He already knows the answer but you nod helplessly. “Let us switch places then.” 

You lay down where the two were sitting not moments ago. Max settles between your legs and as he does you still feel the throb caused by his fangs above your breast. He leans in quickly, as if you might vanish into the night, and claims your lips, tasting himself, you, and Oberyn on your tongue. 

“Gonna fuck you so good,” he says with a slurred speech. “Gonna fuck you so good that you’re never gonna leave again.” 

Your heart sinks a little further down your chest, beating painfully at his words. You nod because you don’t know what else to say or do. The heft of his cock lays heavy over the softness of your stomach. You arch your back gently, wishing to see his face twisting with pleasure instead of bitterness. It works, it must have because, at the graze of your skin, his lips part with a gasp. 

“She won’t,” Oberyn answers instead. “I think our little fox learned her lesson about leaving.” 

You swallow thickly and nod. You fear that maybe forgiveness is most certainly out of reach—that Oberyn could never forgive you, not truly. He drags you away from your thoughts with a touch to your lips, your eyes flutter as he slightly parts your lips and feels your fang under his finger. 

He doesn’t say anything but the gesture is enough to relax your guilt-ridden heart. Oberyn’s gaze shifts to Max’s back. He makes a show of spitting into his hand and jerking himself, a fresh wave of arousal wets your thighs at the sight. 

“Do you think you will be able to take me?” 

Max nods and pushes himself back to grind against his lord’s cock, “Yes,” he breathes out. 

“Good. I am feeling impatient today.” 

You watch breathlessly as Max’s face morphs into one of absolute pleasure. His brows furrow and jaw drops, face growing slack. He moans loudly only an inch away from your face, his breath fanning your heated skin. You cradle his face and pull him to your lips. You two meet in a sloppy kiss as Oberyn buries himself to the hilt. The other man shudders and gasps into your mouth, he falls into your neck. Your lips snug against his forehead, you reach between your sweaty bodies and wrap your fingers around his weeping cock, you guide it to your core, urging him to bury his cock deep into you. 

“I thought you were going to fuck me so good that I would never want to leave again, Maxy. Show me what I missed.” 

He whimpers but manages to push himself up, Oberyn keeps still as Max thrusts forward, sliding into you with ease. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. He always stretches you so thoroughly, filling you up perfectly. Max adorns your neck with kisses and soon Oberyn pulls back and pushes forward, the movement forcing Max to fuck you even deeper. 

You thread your fingers through Max’s hair and pull him closer, making sure he can kiss and suck on your neck as he thrusts into you. His hips move sloppily thanks to Oberyn pistoning from behind, the heat building quickly between your bodies as he fucks further and further into the other. Oberyn’s hands are all over Max, gripping his hips and guiding his motions as he fucks him hard. Oberyn grunts and drops down to sink his teeth into there Max’s neck meets his shoulder. Max’s hips stutter with a pitiful whine tearing from his throat. Oberyn feasts on his blood, moaning into his veins as his hips hammer into him. You can feel the sheer strength in Oberyn’s thrusts, and it only adds to the mind-numbing pleasure coursing through you.

A sudden pulse of pleasure washes over you as you clench around him, Max moans out loud. 

“Fuck baby, are you gonna come?” he nuzzles your neck and you let out an equally pitiful whine, your entire body burning, trembling, with him filling you over and over again. “Please come,” he says in a daze. “Come for me, baby, please. I want it so bad, come on my cock and I’ll fill you up so good—please please please—” 

“F—Fuck, Max—” You feel the familiar heat pooling in your stomach, your body only needed that final nudge to tumble off the edge. But Max is lost in the pleasure, only taking what he’s given. You beg for him to fuck you harder and he hears none of it, his lips pressed into your neck, inhaling your scent. Oberyn, however, knows what you need. He always does. His hands move to grip your hips as well, pulling you back against Max with each thrust.

Your skin goes taut over muscle. The sensations overwhelm you as you come with a loud cry, clenching around Max’s cock as he surprisingly follows suit, his own cries mixing with yours. 

“Look at my sweet pets,” Oberyn breathes, burying himself even deeper, pushing both you and Max together. Max chokes on a cry, his hard cock still throbbing as he spills himself into you. Your lips part wide and Oberyn sneaks two fingers between your lips, pressing them into your tongue. “Look at me as I come,” he growls as Max whines for more, his body pliant and willing. 

Oberyn groans and stills, buried deep inside Max, he finds his own release. He doesn’t break his gaze from you as he fills and fills and fills the other man. You feel him leaking as his spend trickles down and moves down your spread cunt. Your lids flutter yet, you still manage not to look away, wanting desperately to please your lord. 

“Good little fox,” he teases, pressing further one last time before pulling away. His fingers leave your mouth and Max collapses on top of you, his chest heaving as he continues to breathe heavily in post-coital bliss. 

You quickly wrap your arms around him, his cock softening inside of you, “Good boy,” you mutter. “You felt so fucking good Max, I’ve missed your cock.” 

His cock twitches with interest and he smiles, “If you continue with the dirty talk I might have to fuck you again.” 

Oberyn lays beside you and pulls you both towards his sweaty chest. Your bodies are a tangle of limbs and sweat as you all catch your breath, slowly coming down from the intense high. Max rolls off of you, sliding between you and Oberyn, but you don’t mind the loss of his warmth as Oberyn kisses you, holding you close to them both, not allowing you to pull away. 

“If you ever leave there won’t be a third time,” he says against your lips, your breath catches in his throat upon hearing the silent threat in his tone. Max presses his lips right above Oberyn’s sternum, kissing him slowly as if to calm him. Oberyn pays no mind. “Tell me you understand what I am telling you.” 

“I understand, my lord.” 

Both of them stiffen for a second before loosening up, Oberyn smiles. 

“Good.” 

[anonymous-dentist]

But also:

-

It’s a little funny how Penacony is intergalactically-renowned as a ‘dream world’ when everything in it is a goddamn nightmare.

The lights? Too bright, flashing, colorful: red and blue and pink and orange and colors that can only exist in the distorted subconscious that the dream realm is built upon.

The sounds? Too loud, too everywhere: cars honking and bands playing and people screaming and advertisement boards chasing you down begging for you to check out their home store because even a dimension entirely made out of dreams has fallen into the immoral clutches of capitalism.

Cellbit hates it. He hates everything about it, actually, down to the strange fluttering in his stomach every time he passes by a sentient traffic cone and the buzzing in his head when he drinks too much SoulGlad.

But the IPC has their eyes on the planet, and so Cellbit is here before Cucurucho and the rest of the IPC Census Bureau can arrive and take stock of the people they’re ready to enslave. You can’t die in a dream, but maybe Cellbit can kill Cucurucho good enough in the dream realm that she’ll wake up in the hotel and have a heart attack at the memory of their own death.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

Cellbit sips at his SoulGlad with a faint smile on his lips. Penacony is supposed to make his dreams come true, right? Maybe the Family can allow him just one little murder before sicking their Bloodhounds on him.

“This stuff sucks,” Roier complains, slumping against the bar with his still-full glass in hand. “Why don’t they just serve water here?”

More important than the IPC and Cucurucho, however, is the Fool by Cellbit’s side. It’s Roier’s birthday, and he wanted a nice vacation to get away from the whole ‘revenge quest’ thing they’ve been doing for the past couple of common galactic month cycles. He wanted his dream vacation, and so Cellbit got him just that: a vacation inside of a literal dream.

“You’re in a dream, and you just want water?” the bartender incredulously asks. She shakes her head and walks away to the other end of the bar to handle a drunk wine bottle complaining about her ex husband the whiskey.

“It’s my birthday!” Roier whines. He smushes his cheek against the sticky bar top and squeezes his eyes shut. “Even the water tastes like shit! It’s all sparkly and stuff!”

Cellbit rolls his eyes. “It’s sparkling water, pendejo. I don’t think they even have water on Penacony. Just alcohol.”

Roier groans dramatically. “I want to go home!”

‘Home’ being Cellbit’s ship, the Ordem. It’s a tiny little thing- so small that he and Roier have to share a bed in the closet pretending to be sleeping quarters- but it sure beats trying to hitchhike between planets. (Cellbit knows from experience.)

Cellbit gently pats Roier’s back. “If you aren’t having fun here, we can go somewhere else. Unlimited dream worlds, remember? There’s gotta be something you’ll like.”

Currently, they’re in Golden Hour. But Cellbit thinks there’s a dream realm that’s one big huge restaurant somewhere, Roier should like that. He likes food, and he likes the natural chaos that comes with a restaurant full of rich entitled people.

But Roier just shakes his head and cracks an eye open to look up at Cellbit.

“Can we just… go back to our room?” he asks. “Maybe we can come back later, but only if they have actual fucking water!”

He sits up and shouts that last bit at the bartender, who just sighs and continues consoling the wine bottle. (Apparently, the whiskey cheated on her with a bottle of champagne from the amusement park realm. Wow, what a piece of shit.)

Cellbit’s face softens, and he nods. “Of course. And maybe we’ll get to kill Cucurucho when we come back.”

Roier smiles at that. “Ay, don’t get my hopes up.”

Because Roier’s best friend and son have been ‘acquired’ by the Census Bureau, and Cellbit’s whole planet was destroyed by the Census Bureau’s actions. Cucurucho needs to die, simple. And they’re going to make it happen, even in their dreams.

[kiryoutann]

thinking of between kisses childe as a dad 😫 i remember this scene from queen charlotte where she gives birth and i def think childe would do this… reader calling out for him but they wont let him in but he just threatens them 😭😭 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=MaRgAsP-xTQ

THAT'S ONE OF MY FAVORITE SCENE FROM QUEEN CHARLOTTE (i need to rewatch it again)!!! and i see it, anon. i see it!! AHH, and now that u mention it, im so torn between writing ajax like king george or ajax in my other hc.

like, the king george-kinda ajax gonna be threatening people trying to stop him from entering bcs there's "womanly work afoot" and telling him to wait outside, when his wife is audibly screaming in pain????? bad idea. they must've gone mad. and it didn't take much for his threats to leave his mouth; some snezhnaya way of saying "listen here you little shite-" and they ended up letting him enter before gorey stuff starts to happen.

king george-kinda ajax enters the room like he was about to kill someone, but when his eyes landed on MC's pained expression.. fuck, his eyes went SOFT as he rush to her side. gonna brush her hair back while giving reassurance, praises saying she can do this.

if you're into comedic one, one of my headcanon for dad! ajax is that he thinks he KNOWS IT ALL. around month 7 or 8 of the pregnancy, he's gonna act like he got everything under control whenever MC shows SLIGHT fear of childbirth just bcs of "i've seen this with tonia and teucer" blablabla. but when it DID happen?? oh, he's a mess.

he's a mess and dmitri knows it too (both guys panicking inside. but ajax's gonna be denial about his and MUCH WORSE that dmitri gotta calm himself down to CALM HIS EMPEROR). dmitri saying "Your Majesty, please breathe" and ajax, visibly sweating and brain short-circuited, saying "i got this under control dmitri. i'm calm I'M CALM." and when MC calls out for him, DESPITE HIS FEAR (pls give him a little bit credit here) he rushes into the room.

this ajax does the same as the king george-kinda ajax - reassuring her, praising her. but the difference, THIS ajax kinda went.. overboard with it that he runs his mouth EVERY TIME and saying every words every praises that somehow it shift your brain from the pain to the annoyance and irritation you're starting to feel. "i know you can do this, my love. you're in pain, i know, but i'm sure *insert full speech in snezhnayan*".

AT FIRST, it's sweet, and you smiled grimaced at him. but after the pain become intense, the last thing u wanna hear is his voice telling how you're gonna be fine, you're gonna do well. his "breathe, my love, breathe. you're doing so well, darling. you look radiant! like a goddess bringing new life to the world." like, man. BE QUIET.

mc gonna snap at him "shut up. SHUT UP!! I HATE YOU! THIS... IS ALL YOUR FAULT!! for once in your life, ajax, close your damned mouth or i'll see you flayed and quartered!"

it was PURE HORROR EXPERIENCE FOR HIM. and after your baby is born, ajax. doesn't. move. an inch from his place from fear that... he's gonna meet his death by his wife's hands.