#god. when she started to take of her jacket to give it to paul

[daydreamsinthemoonlight]

just remembered that kiriona finally got to see camilla and palamedes after like two years and then they immediately died in front of her and she never got to say goodbye. i'm so unwell rn

[prettypinkporkchop]

Can I request Paul or Quil, whichever you prefer x reader, where reader has a manic episode and just Linda disappears of the face of the earth for like HOURS and everyone is stressing because they just cannot find this bitch only for her to pull up to there house at like 2am in like a post manic daze where they're just confused and don't know what happened or how they got there

Quil Atear x Fem Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of bpd, bipolar, mania, depression

You have been staring at the ceiling. Your brain is itching to do something. You dont want to be around anyone, but you need to do something. You check the time. 4:00 A.M. You push the blankets off of you. You walk out of your house, leaving your phone behind. You giggle to yourself and then shut the front door behind you, running off. Finding somewhere to go.

Quil:

"When you two wake up, come to my place." Sam orders me while the pack goes our separate ways after patrolling. I nod my head and run toward my house. Well, OUR house.

As I reach the door, I notice I can't feel her. There's a pit in my stomach. I open the door and walk around. "Baby, I'm home." I look in every room.

Once I reach the bedroom, I check her daily medication organizer. Every tab is full. Today is Thursday. I pull out her bottles and pour them out, counting quickly.

She hasn't taken them in two weeks. My heart sinks. Why would she lie to me about taking them? I have to keep up with these numbers because she's done this before, but she never ran off like this.

I run out of the house and call Sam.

"Hello?"

"Please, get the guys out here. Y/n." Is all I could spit out.

Your pov:

You sigh in content as you fall onto the ground of the cliff. You lay your head back over it, your hair falling down, not even close to the water underneath. You keep your body on the rock. You close your eyes and debate about jumping.

You decide not to and then stand back up. As you stand back up, you smell something. You follow the smell and see a group of young adults at a fire. "Who are you?" A blonde boy asks. You sit next to two girls. One with glasses and the other one giving you a snobby look. "Rain." You come up with a fake name. (Sorry if you're Rain. Come up with like... pinky doo?) They look at each other in confusion. "I'm Eric! That's Mike." The other guy says while pointing to the blonde guy that asked your name. "Jess." The snobby girl says. "Angela!" The other girl smiles. "Sorry to intrude! I didn't mean to. I was just walking around enjoying the scenery. It's a calm day." You try to make it seem casual. Mike raises an eyebrow. "It's... always a calm down here." Jess awkwardly chuckles, looking around at her friends.

Quils pov:

Oh my god. I fall on my knees and start crying, holding onto her jacket that lays in the damp grass. Is she gone? She can't be. I'd feel it.

Jared comes up behind me and hugs me. "It's okay. She's not gone." The other guys follow suit, holding me as I break down. "C'mon, Quil. We've got to go." Sam says with compassion. Once we all stand up, he grabs my shoulders, shaking me slightly. "We are going to find her."

Your pov:

They all start laughing at your joke as you talk about a fake scenario that never happened. "Yeah! And when the Uber driver looked up at me through the mirror, he said, 'Clean that up'." Everyone bursts into laughter.

Suddenly, you got tired of the company and wanted to leave and do something else. "Okay! Bout to bop out. Gotta head home." You stand up. They all say bye and you walk away.

The breeze hits you, and you see your fingers turning white. The cold isn't bothering you at this state of mind, but you know Quil would kill you if you ended up losing limbs. We'll, sucks that you lost your jacket somewhere.

You keep running around and suddenly see train tracks. This peaked your interest, and you laid down on the tracks. You closed your eyes and relaxed. You hear in the distance a train is coming. You can feel the vibration underneath you. You sit up and stare ahead of you, waiting for the last second to jump. You start laughing at how good you feel.

The train gets closer.

Closer.

The light is so bright it's nearly blinding you. You raise your arms up and scream as if you're on a rollar coaster. The train blows its horn, and you quickly roll off to the side. Barely 30 seconds go by, and the train blasts through. Your hair blows everywhere, and you're smiling. You sit there until the train leaves.

They always said the rails were burning hot when a train rolls through. You put your hand on the rusty, brown metal rail, and you leave your hand there. You soak in the feeling of the burn. You close your eyes, and you imagine your hand sitting in a fire without your skin melting off. You take your hand off and look. Red, bloody, skin peeling, some black spots.

Quils pov:

1 a.m. At Emily's.

We all sit in the living room. I hear Rachel yawn for the fifth time. "You can go to sleep, love. Don't worry." Paul whispers to her. She shakes her head. I keep my elbows rested on my knees, hands together, and on my chin. Emily walks in with sodas and cake. She sits down next to Sam. "You can't feel anything bad?" Embry asks, suggesting do I feel her soul has left. I shake my head no. I don't. But what if she is, and I just refuse to allow it to hit me. "Maybe we should call Renesmee. Maybe Alice could help us." Jared suggests. "Anything. God. Anything." I start crying.

Suddenly, the door bursts open. There stands my imprint. She has a smile on her face. She looks disheveled. I quickly jump up and go to her. "Where the fuck were you?!" I scream and look all over her for any sign of injury. I look at her hands and see one is burnt. "Fuck!" I yell. She's still smiling in space. "I had a good day. Did you?" She asks me without... asking me. She's not here with me. I turn back to see everyone looking at us with confused faces. "I'm taking her home. Thank you guys. Love you." I walk out while pulling her.

"I made friends!" She giggles. I stay silent.

Next morning YOUR POV:

You wake up with my hand on fire. You see it bandaged up. Your head is pounding. You sit up and see Quil sitting up with his knees up and elbows wrapped around so his hands are holding each other. He looks upset. "Baby?" You whisper. He slowly looks over at you. "Do you remember anything?" He asks. You do a little bit. You nod your head and look down. "I counted your medicines." He says. Your heart aches. You forget to take them but you tell Quil that you do. "Why would you lie to me?" He asks, his voice shaky. You felt tremendous guilt that almost had you puking. "I just keep forgetting, and I am sorry for lying." You sniffle. You look beside you and see sleeping pills and tea. That's how you knocked out.

Quil moves, grabbing your bottles and handing them to you. You stare at them. "Now." He demands. "I'll have an alarm set for every day at the same time." You respond. You open the bottles and pour the amount in your hand. "This is really embarrassing." You sigh while taking the pills. "There's nothing embarrassing about taking medication, y/n." His tone is more aggressive. "I know, I know. I meant telling the pack. They all must think I'm crazy now." You start to cry. He pulls you into his chest. He kisses the top of your head. "You're family. They will never think that. They will always have your back." He whispers to you and runs his fingertips along your arm. "I love you." He places more kisses on your head. "I love you, too."

[sichore]

41, 19, or 30 for magjam? 👀

I am once again combining prompts (and adding 7 as requested!) because I cannot be stopped and this idea would not leave me!!

[A kiss... 7. to shut them up 19. for luck 30. as comfort 41. because the world is saved.]

The guitar tech took his Les Paul a while ago and Magnus still flexes his fingers in uncertainty. He could only tune it so many times, and it's going to get checked again before he goes on stage.

On stage.

The crowd is electric, not the frenzy of years past, judging by the footage he's seen countless times. It's more like a machine running again after years of disuse. The startup had some stutters, but soon it purred, and now it roars, steady as a united pride of beasts.

Pickles has still got it, two decades, several crises, and an apocalypse later. Once more, Magnus hears the music fade to a gentle pulse, Shayla's velvet voice murmuring something in reply to Pickles’ quip as the crowd gently laughs.

And soon, the frontman-drummer-god-frontman will call Magnus from the shadows to join him in the spotlight, and Magnus is “sweating like a sinner in church”, as Jimi would say. Or maybe not, as she's assured him time and again that he's forgiven, all is forgiven, and that despite his role, he need not worry about anything the Church might say.

At least not right now.

It's really not the time to have another spiritual and identity crisis. He's only got a few minutes, and he's drenched, and it doesn't really matter that he doesn't do that open-jacket-no-shirt thing anymore (can't, really, because the scars are still hard to look at, let alone be perceived) because he still feels like a pig at the Fourth of July barbecue–

He feels her before she reaches him; a glow at his back, the sliver of the brightening sky before dawn. Magnus turns, and there's Jimi, radiant in the dark of the backstage, walking up to him with concern and question in her dark eyes.

“Jimi, hey.” Magnus stops flexing his hands, folding into fists instead. “I–”

“Mhm.” She doesn't wait, reaching out to take his hand. As always, she finds a way into those closed spaces, her fingers easing his fist open, her hand closing around his damp palm. “Come on.”

She pulls him back into the dressing room and closes the door behind them.

Magnus releases the breath he's been holding and lifts his arms obediently when Jimi tugs on his shirt. “Where are–?”

“With the others,” Jimi answers as she pulls off his shirt and presses soft kisses to the perimeter of his scars before he can think to cover them. “Chevy's still running in circles, Slayer is napping. Nairi was gonna come in here, but I told her I've got it.”

“Ah.” He feels just the smallest pang of regret when Jimi steps away to face the clothes rack and loosely crosses his arms in front of his chest. It's a bit chilly back here, that's all. “I'm–I'm good, Jimi. Really.”

“I know you are,” she says sweetly, turning back to him with a deep, plum colored button-up. “And you're gonna do great.”

“But–”

“No buts!” There's laughter in her voice, and she's totally at ease, grinning in her gap-toothed way up at him, holding up the shirt as Magnus turns and slides his arms through the sleeves. “You've all worked hard these past few months, and you were gorgeous during the soundcheck. You'll do great.”

“I just…” 

Her fingertips brush against his skin as she buttons up his shirt, leaving the top two undone, and then the bottom three, giving a peek of his bellybutton. 

Magnus wants to smile, chuffs out something that could have been a laugh as Jimi experiments in different ways of tucking in his shirt.

“It's just…” He swallows, but it doesn't do much to ease the rasp in his throat. “I missed some notes during practice, what if it happens here? And no one's expecting me, I mean, who even wants me here? They could start to walk out and Pickles will start to fucking panic and–”

Soft hands circle the sides of his neck and pull his face down to meet her lips, and the surge of panic starts to fade. Calloused hands find soft hips. Her lips part.

Magnus closes his eyes and sinks in. Soon, he is back among the tide, and Jimi holds him through the flow and ebb. Here, where the dark meets the light and chaos once laid with cosmos, as did gloom with night. Here, they are eternal and alive and the sky no longer bleeds red.

They are safe. All is well. And they will persevere.

They pull back with a sigh, and if it weren't for Jimi's hands on him, Magnus would melt into the floor. He rests his forehead against hers and lets the tension slip from his weary back and shoulders. Breathes with her. Resists the urge to let go and meld with her because there will be time enough for that after this.

He opens his eyes and Jimi looks back at him with the sparkling infinite reflected in hers.

“You don't need it,” she says softly. “But good luck out there.”

Magnus can only nod.

He shrugs into his jacket before exiting the room, Jimi leaving with another kiss pressed to his cheek before she hurries back to where the others wait to watch his performance. His rebirth.

The crowd swells with excitement as Magnus approaches, retrieving his guitar from the tech waiting on standby. He slips the strap over his shoulder with all the practiced ease of a veteran, a master of his craft. The Les Paul feels weightless. He takes a deep breath, stands tall. Wipes his palms on his pants one last time as he waits just off stage.

“Now, fer my next guest… Well, he's more like my partner in crime. Another one, anyway. Heh.” A laugh from the crowd, a playful riff from Pickles’ rhythm guitarist. “These days, he's a partner in other ways, too.”

“Another one?” Shayla asks in that smokey, unbothered tone of hers.

Pickles laughs. “I know, right? I'm a real collector over here!”

Magnus gives a wry grin at that. That's right – he and Pickles are a great team. And once they stand there together and let their music ring out across creation, the surrounding land will flourish. The crowd will know his name and thrive.

He's here, he's alive, and while that may not be enough for him just yet, one day, it will be. Since it's not just about him. His role is so much bigger than himself and today, and for the rest of his days, infinite as they may be, he'll play to the best of his ability. 

For the Earth. For their progeny. For the love he found distilled once he purged himself of liquid hatred.

A spotlight clicks to life before him.

“Ladies ‘n’ gentleman ‘n’ all the rest – Magnus Hammersmith!”

He steps out into it.

[Send me a number and a ship and I will write a kiss]

[ladylooch]

Letters in Your Last Name - Chapter 34

A/N: Another time jump! Also, I still love the smut in this chapter. Also, the moment in their bedroom together before the game. That's the good stuff 🤌🏻

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content, dreaming big dreams as a wild fan ☠️

Minnesota Wild head to their first ever Stanley Cup Final Berth. Fiala scores twice in Game 3 win over Bruins. See You In St. Paul: Wild force Game 7 against Boston.

The kids and I are playing in the back yard while Kevin takes his pre-game nap. This will be the last one of the season. Tonight, is game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final at the Xcel Energy Center. I watch as Luca rushes next to Lacey at the portable water table. He sweetly shows his little sister how to scoop the water with the buckets. Lacey giggles excitedly as Luca dumps the water back into the table, making the water splash onto her face.

“Is that fun, baby?” I ask her, smiling at her big grin.

To anyone looking into our backyard, we look like a normal family enjoying a warm summer day. However, we are anything but that. Tonight is the biggest game of our family’s hockey life. The series against the Boston Bruins has been a battle from the first puck drop. Both teams are evenly matched across the board and every mistake must be capitalized on. The Wild have switched off wins each game so far this series. To say it has been stressful to watch would be an understatement. Kevin has handled the series well. He’s playing some of his best hockey and he has certainly been the most electric I’ve ever seen him in his career. Truthfully, I think it helps to have the kids around for a distraction from the seriousness of it all.

My phone begins to buzz in my hand and I look down, seeing Lauren Hartman’s name flash on my screen.

“Hi!” I answer.

“Oh my god. Tell me you’re as antsy as me about this game.” She groans.

“Definitely.” I confirm with her. “Kevin is taking his nap right now and I have no idea how he is able to sleep. I don’t think I’ve slept well since the series has started.”

“Ryan is too! Meanwhile, I’m resisting the urge to do tequila shots in the middle of the day.”

“Hey, it might help.”

“Probably except with my luck I’d end up passing out through the game. What are you wearing tonight? I’m struggling with what will bring the most luck.”

“Not sure yet, but probably something that goes with our jackets for the playoffs.” Each playoff season, the WAGS order a few articles of new swag to wear to support the team. This year, we picked a black leather jacket with the last name and number stitched on the back in forest green. Sparkly jewels line the outline of the stitching to make the lettering pop.

“Oh! Good call… Now I just have to figure out jeans and shoes….”

I look over at Luca and Lacey, noticing immediately at how tired they both are. Lacey is getting whiney and Luca is rubbing at his eyes more and more with each passing minute. I know if I don’t get them out of their suits and into bed soon, a meltdown will be imminent.

“Laur, I gotta go. Kids are hitting their limits. I’ll see you tonight though!” I click the end button and stand, walking towards the kids. “I see some tired babies.” I murmur, kneeling between them.

“I want to nap with daddy.” Luca tells me with a pout. He’s a little old to be napping, but with the late night we have, it’s necessary for him to at least rest.

“Not today, baby.” I smooth his dark locks from his forehead and give him a soft smooch. “Daddy needs to sleep well for the game tonight. I bet he will snuggle with you tomorrow to make up for it.” I nuzzle my nose into his neck before swinging Lacey up into my arms. She settles into me immediately. Her wet hair tickles my face as I reach for Luca’s hand, leading both of them into the kitchen to dry off.

When I enter our bedroom after putting both Luca and Lacey in their rooms, Kevin is up. He is moving quietly around our bedroom, putting on his tie, then his suit pants. He seems lost in thought, so I’m not sure if he even notices that I’m here with him.

“You look great.” I tell him. His head snaps to me quickly, confirming he had no idea I was with him. He tilts one side of his mouth into a quick smile.

“Thanks,” He says simply, moving around me to the bathroom. He grabs his hair gel and rubs it between his hands before he rushes his fingers through his hair. My lips tilt into a smile at how damn good he looks. How lucky am I?

“How are you doing?” I ask. Normally, I wouldn’t press much but the butterflies are dive bombing the walls of my stomach right now and it feels harder to avoid it than face it head on.

“Fine.” He responds, grabbing his cologne and spraying a few spritzes onto his body. He washes his hands quickly, then fixes a stray tendril of his hair that keeps trying to dip back to his forehead.

“At least you can shave your face tomorrow.” I say, trying to break the tension I see in his body. As is customary in the playoffs, the Wild players have all been growing facial hair since the beginning of the post-season. Whether it really brings them luck is up for debate. But hockey players are knowingly superstitious, so it’s best not to bring up the validity of the tradition.

“Yeah, that will be nice.” He murmurs as our eyes meet in the mirror.

Silence consumes our room as he adjusts his tie and tugs the ends of his dress shirt down towards his wrists. All of his shirts and suits are custom made to fit him perfectly. There is something about watching him get ready for games that always makes my heart flutter in response. I step towards him and wrap my arms around him, resting my head against his back. He places his hands on the bathroom counter and we stay like that for several moments. I struggle with coming up with words to say to him. I’m so nervous I could puke. I can’t imagine how he feels right now.

“Luca said to tell you good luck.” I finally say, breaking the silence and glancing at him in the mirror. Kevin smiles in response.

“I love that kid.” Kevin tells me, turning so he is holding me to his chest. “My favorite son, for sure.” He jokes with me, kissing my lips softly before stepping out of the bathroom.

I watch as he puts his shoes on and his cuff links before he pulls his suit jacket over his broad shoulders. I walk over to him as he buttons the jacket. He turns to me and I reach for him, smoothing his jacket down anxiously. He hands me his tie clip and I secure it to his dress shirt perfectly in the center.

“I think you’re ready now.” I whisper. I bite my lip as I feel the tears pinching at my eyes. This moment. Everything he has worked for. I’m overcome with the emotions of it all coming to a crescendo tonight. What if they win? What if they don’t? I gulp back the lump in my throat and push a happy grin onto my face.

“I have to go.” Kevin advises me. His eyes search my face but I’m not sure what he is looking for.

“Yeah, okay.” I step to the side so he can walk around me to grab his watch. He comes back to me and gives me a soft, sweet kiss. He rests his forehead against mine as our eyes stay closed. “Good luck.” There are so many more words I want to say, but I know now isn’t the time.

“I’ll see you after.” He tells me, giving my hand a squeeze before he begins to leave. The reality settles between us that the next time we see each other, the game will be over. He may or may not be a Stanley Cup Champion.

“Kev.” I call to him just as he steps into the door frame of our bedroom.

“Yeah babe?”

“No matter what happens tonight… we love you.” Kevin, who is still working on strapping his watch to his wrist, stills. His brown eyes melt and he sighs, walking back over to where I’m standing. He gathers me into his arms and breathes in deeply while we hug. I squeeze him one last time before we part.

“I love you.” He says simply before he walks out of the bedroom and into the greatest moment of his career. _ _ _

Overtime in Game 7 with the Stanley Cup in the building has got to be the most intense anxiety I’ve ever experienced. Yet, here we are. After 60 minutes of battle, the score couldn’t be decided and the game needs extra minutes to determine this years’ champion.

I watch intently as the Bruins cycle the puck in the Wild zone. I feel antsy watching, knowing that if the puck doesn’t get out soon, this likely won’t end well for our tired defensemen. Kevin is on the ice; his positioning is perfect defending at the point. I watch as the Bruins defenseman winds up for a slap shot and it hits Kevin’s shin pads, bounding back into the neutral zone. The biggest mistake- one that defensemen will see when he closes his eyes for the remainder of his career.

“Kev!” I gasp, watching as Kevin flies forward towards the puck. The Bruins defenseman has reacted, but too slow. Soon, it’s just Kevin and the goalie as he darts down the ice on an obvious break away. “Kev.” I say again quietly, almost begging.

Everything seems to slow. I put my hand to my chest and hold my breath watching as he locks eyes on the net. The arena is buzzing with excitement as he moves the puck off the boards and heads closer to the center. He stick handles once more to change the angle at the last minute. He flicks his wrists and snipes the puck into the top, left hand corner of the net. My heart lurches into my throat as I watch the white twine snap in response to the puck.

“Yes!” I scream as the horn blares and the fans roar. “Oh my god! Oh my god!” I jump up and down, reaching for Laura as we both celebrate. The noise in the arena is deafening as everyone yells in disbelief and celebration. I pull away from her and turn, watching as the Wild bench clears rushing to Kevin. Helmets, gloves, and sticks litter the entire ice as they pile together in the corner. Kevin disappears from view while sobs clutch my chest in suffocating heaves. He did it.

“Mama!” Luca yells from behind me, his eyes wide and his face scrunched up in response to the noise.

“It’s okay baby!” I say to him. “I know it’s loud. Daddy won!” I kneel down and hold him tight, trying to gasp for air around the incredible excitement and overwhelm for Kevin. My lips press to Luca’s cheeks and he buries his face into my side as I stand again.

“The Minnesota Wild are your Stanley Cup Champions!” The announcer yells as confetti falls into the general seating area. I laugh in response, tilting my head back and feeling the paper settle into my hair. Kevin just won the Stanley Cup. He is finally a Stanley Cup Champion.

“Everything is okay.” I say to Luca again. I turn and see Laura holding Lacey who is watching with wide eyes like her brother. I turn back to the rink and point down to the ice where Kevin is still being mobbed. “Let’s look for daddy.” I tell Luca as I pull him onto my hip. He’s gotten so big it’s hard to hold him up here, but he needs the comfort. It’s so loud. I’m grateful for the baby headphones both of the kids are wearing. Eventually, the Wild players pull apart from one pile and focus on giving hugs all around. I see Kevin and Luca points excitedly. “Wave, bubba!” I tell him as Kevin looks our way. He searches for us and when he finds us his eyes brighten and his smile somehow gets even wider.

“Woo!!” I yell to him, bouncing with Luca who puts his hands in the air. I blow him a kiss as tears fill my eyes and stream down my face. Everything he has ever worked for has lead to this moment. I can barely breathe with the pride I have for him. The long-time Minnesota sports fan in me also can’t quite believe what just happened.

Quickly, the red carpet is rolled onto the ice and the Stanley Cup makes it’s long awaited arrival onto the Xcel Energy Center ice to the roaring applause of the State of Hockey. I beam with pride as I watch Kevin clap his hands and yell along with the fans. Ryan Hartman wraps him into a tight hug again and they both laugh. It’s a hug filled with history- from Nashville to Minnesota to Stanley Cup champions. I glance down the row at Lauren and we grin at each other. Then, a round of boos greet the commissioner as he begins his introduction.

Matt Boldy comes in next, joining the hug until Ryan breaks away. Matt and Kevin embrace. The hug is tight, clasping each other like the brothers they have turned into. Matt changed our lives on and off the ice. I can’t imagine not having him here to celebrate this with.

“Uncle Matty.” Luca points excitedly at me.

“Yeah, baby. Uncle Matty and daddy.” I press my nose into his hair, hiding my large grin. Matt says something to Kevin, who points in our direction. Matt’s eyes lock on me and I give him a fist pump.

“Proud of you!” I mouth to him. His boyish grin fills as he waves in acknowledgement.

“Joel Ericksson Ek, it is my honor to present to you the Stanley Cup.” Joel skates forward and after a moment to pause for pictures, he grabs it in both hands and lifts it high into the sky. The crowd roars and I sob happily in response watching it all unfold. This moment of greatness not just for our family but for this entire state. I yell and cheer holding Luca to me as he buries his face in my shoulder again. I rub his back soothingly, watching as Joel skates his lap. When he is done, he sets his eyes on Kevin and I know it’s his turn next.

My husband grips the edges in both hands and thrusts it above his head while laughing through a wide smile. His excited yelp is drowned out by the sound of the fans. Tears fall down my face as we yells back to him in response. I bite my quivering lip as he skates closer to us, giddy in response to seeing us cheer for him. He brings it to his lips and kisses it before skating back towards his teammates. Laura snaps away pictures of her brother and then turns the camera on me to capture my teary mess of a face.

“Congratulations! This is yours too.” She tells me confidently. “All the sacrifices we have all had to make for this. It’s ours.” She nods at me and I agree.

The countless hours his parents spent driving him places. The terror and hopefulness of allowing their teenage son to move to a different country to find competition that challenged him. A sister who continuously understood that Kevin’s games came first. A wife and mother who rocked both her kids to sleep alone while her husband was out on a 14 day road trip. All the nights I fell asleep gripping his pillow, wishing it was him. Laura is right; this is ours.

Soon, team representatives are next to our section, ushering us up the stairs and down the elevators so we can join our boys on the ice. Kevin’s parents and Laura help with the kids.

“I’ll take him.” Jan, says, grabbing Luca from my arms as he was beginning to fall asleep on me. “You go to him first.” He nods at me as we step out of the elevator. I look at Renata who nods her head in agreement. I give them a small smile as we are directed down the tunnel.

Stepping carefully, we reach the ice and I search for Kevin. He’s across the rink from us laughing and skating away from Kaprizov who is dumping water all over him. Kirill laughs as he empties the bottle all over Kevin’s head. Kevin spits out the water onto the ice and runs his hands through his hair, shaking the excess water off. His eyes lift to the tunnel. When he sees me, I feel like the only person in this entire world.

I don’t even think about the slippery surface of the ice, or the fans, or the media, or honestly, our kids. I just run to him. He meets me in the middle and catches me effortlessly. I wrap myself around him and immediately begin shaking at the excitement of being in his arms. He smells absolutely awful and he’s wet and now I’m wet and I don’t care about any of it. All that matters is the feeling of his body connected with mine.

“Baby! I am so, so, so, so, SO proud of you.” I squeal to him joyfully, pulling back and looking at his face. “My Stanley Cup Champion.” I wrinkle my nose cutely at him, placing my lips hungrily on his. He skates slightly backwards as our lips nip and tug at each other greedily. I can hear the click of a camera and I don’t know who it is or where this picture is going. I’m too wrapped up in Kevin to care.

“I love you.” Kevin says to me as I slide down from his arms. My boots hit the ice and he reaches down again and kisses me. His lips are greedy, sucking up every ounce that I’m giving him. “So fucking much, Samantha Fiala.” My name comes out of his mouth in a breathless whisper. The sound of my full name sets my body on fire and I want all of him instantly. After all these years, he knows my tells. He chuckles in recognition. “Later.” He kisses my nose and wraps an arm around my body, turning towards where our family is coming towards us. “I see our final baby in the very near future.” He squeezes my side as his mom approaches for a hug. I don’t get the chance to agree with him, but I do. A Stanley Cup baby is a pretty good story.

The celebration continues on the ice, then into the locker room and the family lounge. We laugh and cry and share stories of the successes and struggles to get here. After midnight, the players start to confirm plans of going out in downtown to continue the celebration at an upscale rooftop bar. Despite the exhaustion I feel, Kevin and I agree to join the group. We can sleep in a few days when the excitement dies down. I look over at our sleeping kids on the couch and know we need to get them home to bed before we meet up with the rest of the team.

“We have some sleepy babies, mama.” Kevin murmurs to me as he grabs Luca and I grab Lacey.

Laura comes home with us and offers to stay with our kids for the night while we go out to celebrate. I rush up the stairs and into our closet, shrugging off my black Fiala jacket and looking at the available outfit options. What does one wear to a Stanley Cup celebration?

“Wir sind bald draußen.” I hear Kevin say to Laura as he walks into our master bedroom. I hear the soft click of the door and Kevin appears in the doorway.

“I’m not sure what to wea- Oh!” I exclaim as Kevin grabs me, lifting me off the ground and roughly sets me on the dresser in our closet. “Right here, huh?” I say breathlessly as he kisses down my neck. His hands are unruly and greedy on my body. I moan in response to his lips and eagerness.

“Laura is upstairs. Try to be quiet.” He advises me, tugging at my shirt. Our lips part briefly as he lifts it over my head. He is back to my lips for a moment before his mouth trails down my chest. He buries his face in my breasts and grinds his hips into me. He is warm and hard and my inner core clenches in response.

“Mmm, Kev..” I whisper as he tugs at the button on my jeans. I grab the belt on his suit pants and pull it apart. It takes mere seconds before his erection is at my entrance. When he feels how wet I am, he pushes in quickly and I lose myself in the feeling of him. He pauses there for a moment, watching my face for the stitch of pain to turn into pleasure. He slowly slides an inch out and then thrusts right back in. The dresser shakes from the movement of our bodies. I moan desperately in response and he grins down at me.

“Holy fuck, you feel so damn good, baby.” He growls as he begins to move quickly. “The entire time we were on the ice, I wanted to bend you over and fuck you against the boards.” He pounds into me in a steady, hard rhythm and I’m gone within moments. Something about when he gets like this- horny, needy, and just the right amount of rough- has me crashing fast every time. Kevin pulls me into his arms and walks us into our bedroom. When we get on the bed, he begins to move again, slower, almost painfully slow. I wrap my legs around him to hold him close to me. He brushes a loose strand away from my face, leaning down and kissing my lips tenderly. “ I love you, babe.” He places feather light kisses along my cheeks, then sucks lightly on my neck. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I murmur. He slows his pumps to a stop and I pout in response.

“For everything. This wouldn’t have happened without you. I wouldn’t be this version of me if I didn’t have you. I’m so lucky. The life we have… that you’ve given to us…”

“I think you had more to do with this than you’re giving yourself credit for.” I laugh, squeezing my muscles around him. He groans in response and dips his head in pleasure.

“Maybe.” He finally admits, “But I’m a Stanley Cup Champion because of you, Sam. Your support, sacrifice, and unconditional love brought our family here.” He is looking at me through serious brown eyes and I swallow hard in response. “We always said three. I want to complete our family now.” He whispers as he begins to pump into me faster. The rhythm is delicious and I can feel my second orgasm building within me.

“Me too.” I respond. “A Stanley Cup baby.”

“I know we shouldn’t pick favorites, but come on, it won’t even be close.” My chest heaves with loud laughter.

He begins to move faster inside of me again, cutting off my laugh with a breathy moan. His hands go to my breasts and his thumbs slowly circle my nipples. I arch my back into his waiting palms in response. I tilt my knees closer to my chest to allow him deeper. There it is. Our groans fill the room. He strokes that marvelous spot inside of me. My skin breaks out in goosebumps in acknowledgement. Kevin reaches down and places his lips over mine to catch the deep, primal wail coming out of my mouth. He pumps hard twice more before his hips jerk awkwardly as he finishes inside of me. Our mouths break apart after he comes as we both gasp for air from the highest of highs.

“That should do it.” He laughs, pulling out. I giggle in response, shoving away the dark cloud of our last attempts to conceive.

“I feel pregnant already.” I joke to him.

I know this one will be different.

Five weeks later, after multiple Stanley Cup Celebrations, a parade down West 7th, and not nearly enough sleep, I smile down at the pregnancy test confirming what I already knew. Pregnant. I walk out of the bathroom where Kevin is coloring at the kid’s table with our older two babies. He perks up when he sees me walk into the room. A wide grin breaks onto his lips when he takes in the look on my face. He stands up and dances over to me, gripping my hips and kissing me tenderly.

“Our Stanley Cup baby.” I giggle when we pull apart.

“So lucky.” He whispers to me, resting his forehead against mine.

Our little family is almost complete.

[everlesslahote1]

“Lash out” ~Paul Lahote imagine.

-

Hello beautiful people, Before I start I would just like to say welcome back. I am not as active as I once was when I first started writing because I am struggling with inspiration to keep writing but I hope you like what I’m putting out , enjoy though💕.

Paul Lahote x wife!reader.

Summary: Jake made a couple comments that Paul didn’t like, what happens when you have to leave home at 2 AM to calm down your hotheaded husband?

“What do you mean he lashed out?” y/n tried to get an understanding of as to why It was 2am and her husband still wasn’t home.

“Well one moment it was harsh words then next thing I know him and Jake are in the field in wolf form ready to fight and don’t get me wrong, I’ve have seen Paul angry but not this angry. We need your help y/n” Embry explained to his friend over the phone.

“Yeah cause we don’t know how to calm him down but we know you can.” she heard Seth say.

She could also hear the growling of two wolves in the background and Sam trying to descalate the situation.

“Think you should hurry too, doesn’t look like Paul’s taking to kindly that Sam’s in his way” Embry said making her sigh.

Y/n got out of bed as soon as those words left his mouth, remembering to make a mental note to scold Paul for his poor temper later.

“Just… keep them from ripping each other’s heads off , I’ll be there in 10mins.” She said as she slipped on her slippers and a jacket heading out the door.

“Okay”

And with that the two hung up, Y/n made her way to her jeep that Paul got her for birthday and got in.

Starting it up, she started to think on what made her lover so mad?

I mean yeah sure , Paul had a very very vicious temper and of course he doesn’t like how Jake handles things but to not come home to her? it must’ve been something serious.

Because she knew that Paul would pause any and everything to be next to her, as she would do the same.

They we were stuck together.

As Y/n drove down the road toward Emily’s house she heard another wolf howl.

As she pulled in and rushes to get out the car , she walks around back to see Paul Snarling, Jake trying to back down, & Sam in wolf form.

Sam had changed into his midnight black wolf because Paul was not making this easy.

The rest of the pack were on the porch while Emily & Kim stood in the door way.

“Oh. Thank. god!” Jared shouted as he saw you.

Embry and Seth smacked his head , resulting in Jared just saying a quick ow and rubbing were his pack brothers hit him.

Paul didn’t pay anyone any attention he just tried his hardest to get around Sam to Jacob but it wasn’t working.

Every move that Paul made Sam covered.

That only fustrated y/n because any other time she walks in the room he cuts everything he’s doing gives her his attention.

Call her jelly.

“Paul Nathan Lahote!” She shouted to the 6foot foot.

“Oh shit??” Seth questioned.

“What?” Jared asked his pack brother.

“N-no that’s what Paul thought, I just said it” Seth protested with his hands up.

Paul slowly turned turn to face y/n and the way she was staring at him made him feel like a child in trouble.

Almost like she was the person who could take away his tv privileges.

“Go” Y/n said pointing towards the woods , telling him to change back and he quickly followed suite.

Everyone stood there confused like a deer in headlights , did he really just listen to her so easily ?

The pack didn’t even hear a protest or snarky comment through the mind link either.

Jake and Sam went to a different sides of the woods and changed back also and the rest of the pack went in the house whispering about how Paul basically just got over powered.

Without any force.

Y/n followed not to far behind the pack as she sighed and sat at Emily’s table waiting for Paul.

“I’m sorry hun” she heard Emily say making her look up.

She just gave her a soft smile.

“It’s fine, I just thought his anger was better…”

“Paul has a mind of his own but he hasn’t really gotten mad in a while, this is the first time in months.” Emily repiled.

Y/n just inhaled and exhaled wit a small ‘oof’.

“Don’t doubt him just yet , I’m sure it was a good reason.” Emily said giving y/n a gental rub on her shoulder and joining the pack in the living room.

Soon after Paul , Jacob , and Sam came in , all with a pair of tan shorts.

Paul stood close to the door with his head down while Jake and Sam moved to the living room.

“Sorry to bring you out late y/n.” Jake said passing her.

She just nodded looking back at her lover but he never looked up.

He was disappointed in his self because y/n always told him he has to control his poor temper.

Even helped him keep it a bay but he didn’t this time and he felt bad.

Y/n saw the sadness in her lovers face and softened her gaze on him, maybe she was a little hard on him.

She didn’t even know why he was mad. Maybe he had a good reason like Emily said.

“Come.” Paul heard the soft voice he’s so In love with speak.

He looked up to see y/n with arms open and a soft look on her face.

He quickly rushed into her touch , wrapping his arms around her waist and poking his head in her neck.

Y/n put her arms around his neck and played with the hairs on it.

She knows it calms him and as she expected he relaxed into her touch more and pulled her closer.

“What happened?” Y/n asked finally.

“Jake made a really inappropriate joke about you.” he mumbled quietly but she still heard it.

Y/n pulled away so she could see his face.

“What was it?”

“He said if he would have met you first he would have to wrapped around his finger and I-“ he stopped taking a deep breath.

“I got jealous…” he mumbled putting his head back down.

Y/n made him look at her because what she was about to say she needed him to hear. Clearly.

“You have nothing to be jealous about, he has nothing on my baby. I’m yours, he couldn’t take me even if he tried. Fate said so, the day I became your imprint solidified that. Your everything I want, everything I need. I wouldn’t even let my mom split us up let along a shit talker.” She said grinning a bit thinking back to the years Ms.y/l/n thought Paul was A bad influence.

That was so long ago.

Paul stared into her eyes taking in everything his lover was saying and chuckled a little bit when she called Jacob a shit talker.

Because well… he was.

“I love you and only you, ya hear me?” She said

Paul nodded and y/n place a gental kiss on his lips.

“Wanna say our goodbyes and get home? It’s pretty late.” She questioned.

“Yea I should probably say sorry to Sam, I was a dick.” He said rubbing his neck with one hand and kept y/n’s In the other.

They walked to the living seeing everyone sitting around.

They said your goodbyes to everybody but leaving Jake.

When he got close enough she took her free hand and gripping his short raven black locks, pulling him to her level because she was only 5’7.

“Ah! What the hell y/n!” Jake yelped.

“Next time you purposely pick on my specific wolf, you won’t need to worry about him. It’ll be me that kicks your ass. Got it?” She said pulling it a little bit harder.

“Got it! , got it!” And she finally let go.

Everybody cracked jokes on Jake getting beat up by Paul and his imprint as the couple walks out the house and to y/ns car.

Paul chuckled remembering his very much human girlfriend bullying his 6’8 pack mate, he couldn’t lie. It was badass.

“I’m so glad I married you.” He said softly.

Y/n smiled wildly.

“Me too.” She said starting up the vehicle to go home.





[robinofgothamcity]

♡ prompt: "I got you breakfast. I know it's just a bowl of cereal, but it's the only thing I can't burn." / "Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you."

♡ pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / I was listening to Theme from New York, New York by Frank Sinatra and felt like it fit Percy so well. I feel like all of Percy's vibe just screams Frank Sinatra in some way.

you always found it odd that so many kids from the Aphrodite cabin had told you that they felt you and Percy were bound to be together. at the time, you found it almost offensive considering he was dating Annabeth but a few months after, you along with everyone else heard that they had broken up.

you felt like you weren't within your rights to ask why they broke up, even if he was your close friend, and just waited until he told you himself. you found it surprising. everyone in the camp felt as though Annabeth and Percy were going to make it all the way to marriage but when he told you that they had fallen out of love, you sat in shock.

it had been a few months since then and while they remained friends, you could tell Annabeth was already going on a few dates herself, to which you felt happy for her. all the while, Percy hadn't seemed interested in anyone. you knew a lot of people would fall at the knees to date him but you couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't accepted any.

"whatcha doin'?" you heard Percy ask, practically barging into your room. you looked up from your notebook, shaking your head, "not much, why?" you asked. he pulled something out of his pocket, "my mom, Paul, and I are going to watch the Yankee's game and we have a spare ticket. wanna come along?"

you smiled, immediately getting up and pushing your chair in.

"hell yeah I want to go! lets go Jackson," you said, kicking him in the back of the leg as he passed you the ticket. you saw the time and stood confused, "the tickets say seven and it's only three?" you asked. he pushed you along as the two of you walked out of the camp.

"my mom wants to catch pizza before the game. she claims we haven't spent enough time together lately."

you giggled, "please, that's so sweet. being the daughter of Ares, it's not exactly something he'd want to do....ever," Percy shoved you but didn't press it any longer. he knew your dad was an asshole and so were all your siblings and he meant that in the most respectful way possible.

the subway ride to Percy's mom's place was filled with you and Percy talking about anything and everything. you knew Percy could've told any of the boys to come along so you found it a bit endearing to know that he picked you to come along. you were also meeting his mom for the first time so you were a bit nervous on that end.

"my sister should be awake. she's usually up and trying to crawl around this time." your eyes widened realizing he was talking about Estelle. you knew she was only a few months old and meant that she was not walking yet, "oh my god, a baby!" you clapped happily as you walked up the stairs.

Sally's apartment stood at the very top of the building and you heard giggles coming from the other side of the door. Percy practically barged into the apartment, seeing Estelle on the ground as Sally tried fixing her onesie.

"hey mom!" he said bending down to grab Estelle as Sally stood up, " you must be ( your name ), nice to meet you," she said excitedly as she brought you in for a hug. you were taken back by the sudden hug but returned it, "nice to meet you as well. is that your daughter?" you asked, the itching feeling to wanting to hold her creeping up.

she nodded, grabbing Estelle and handing her over to you, "oh my god, you're precious. Percy, she's adorable!" you exclaimed, instantly making her jump in your arms. Percy gave you a smile as you looked to Sally, "is she attending the game? looks like she's ready with her little gear," you asked as you saw the Yankee's onesie on her.

Sally agreed, saying that she didn't want to separate from Estelle from too long. you helped Sally put Estelle's jacket and hat on as Percy and Paul spoke with each other, "she's so cute, I can't handle it," you tried not to squeal as Sally laughed, "fan of babies?" she asked.

you shrugged, "I wouldn't say fan but infants are just so cute," you gushed, squishing Estelle's cheeks. all of you walked out as you had her in your arms while Percy tried making her laugh.

Paul and Sally watched as they smiled to each other, "they'd make great parents," Paul murmured as Sally agreed, "not right now but in five years, I wouldn't mind seeing grandkids," you were paying no mind as you and Percy were in your own little world with his sister.

the ride to Yankee stadium was a short one as everyone was crowded around each other. all of you got quickly scanned in and sat towards the front of the crowd. you sat in between Percy and Sally as you had Estelle on your leg. you knew Paul and Percy were the bigger fans as you and Sally went along for the fun time. you knew the basics of baseball but you like Sally were confused on some parts.

the rivalry ran deep as the Yankee's were playing the Red Sox's and you could tell both of the boys were getting extremely into the game. Paul and Percy screaming to a few Sox's fans with words you were surprised that Percy even said in front of his mom. you looked over to Sally and started laughing as you heard both of the heavy New York accents coming out of them.

"I don't think I've ever seen Percy this invested in anything....ever," you murmured to Sally as she agreed, "he was a fan when he was a child but he was never like this," she replied as Percy stood up again, screaming at the top of his lungs that a player was safe.

both you and Sally remained talking amongst each other, briefly getting up to get drinks for the other two. you had offered to feed Estelle her bottle as Sally sipped on a glass of wine. you knew caring for an infant was hard but you knew that she birthed Percy, someone who was probably ten times harder to deal with as a baby.

"we should get going but the two of you should stay for the rest of the game. who knows when's the next time you'll get a chance to see a game," Paul and Sally told the two of you a bit later on. you nodded understandingly, "of course, thank you inviting me," you whispered as you gave Sally a hug.

she smiled, placing a kiss on your cheek, "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around a lot more so I'll see you later," you wondered what she meant by as she turned to tell Percy goodbye. you didn't bother to ask as you felt the New York breeze start to get colder. Percy could tell as you turned over to him, "would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It probably smells like you," you asked.

Percy didn't hesitate to take off his hoodie, placing it on your lap as you quickly put it on. you were drowning it as you smelled Percy's cologne right away. he had a ocean and wood smell to him. the game was in its eighth inning, the Yankee's leading the score with 10-8. you knew Chiron would want all of you back at camp before midnight and the ride back to the camp would be long.

"wanna head back, I can tell you're getting sleepy," you heard Percy whisper in your ear. you nodded, lifting your head from his shoulder as the two of walked out of the stadium. the stars littered the sky as there was no cloud in sight, "tonight was fun. your family is so cute," you told Percy.

he smiled, "I know, it took a long time to get us here," he murmured. you gave him a smile as you felt Percy slowly slip his hand in yours. you gave him a look as he tried to hide his blush, "aw, it's Theme from New York New York by Frank Sinatra," you told him as you squeezed his hand in approval.

you heard fans drunkenly singing along to the song on the subway as you and Percy laughed, "I want to be apart of it...NEW YORK, NEW YORK," both you and Percy sang, giggling with each other. Percy was holding your side as the subway was in complete shambles with everyone singing.

"If I can make it there, I'll make it practically anywhere, It's up to you, New York, New York!"

you looked up to Percy who was already staring down at you lovingly. you felt him bend down a bit, placing a kiss on your lips as you instantly returned it.

"And find that I'm number one, Top of the list, King of the hill."

the crowd continued to sing as you gave Percy a smile and snuggled closer to him. you heard the subway ding off the stop as you and Percy hopped off. you remained in Percy's side embrace as the two of you entered the camp. most of the campers were asleep as only a few scarce campers were still awake.

Percy dropped you off at the door of the Ares cabin, "thank you for today," you whispered, giving him a kiss on the cheek. he nodded, placing one back on yours as he grabbed your hand and gave it a quick squeeze, "we should do it again," he whispered back.

you agreed, opening the door and blowing him a kiss in return before shutting it. Percy stood in place for a moment before jumping in Breakfast Club style. he walked back to his cabin, a smile plastered on his face as he fell into bed, as happy as ever.

+

you woke up the next morning, all of your siblings already gone as you heard a knock on your door. you had fell asleep with Percy's sweater on and a pair of shorts as you released a yawn of sleepiness. you walked over to the door and laughed tiredly, seeing as it was Percy.

"I got you breakfast. I know it's just a bowl of cereal, but it's the only thing I can't burn," you saw the bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and laughed as you grabbed it and sat on the steps of your cabin, "I appreciate it," you said, placing a kiss on his cheek, making his blush again.

[litgwritersroom]

Could we please get another Carl fic? The other one was so good! Would love it to be smutty as well, but okay if not!

An Investment

S2 | Carl/MC | 2500+ words | @crimswnred

Carl's gets more than he bargained for when his other half tests out a new 'adult' product he got from a kinky app. Partly inspired by Kinktober. 🔥

The company had a different segment, Carl couldn't deny that.

As an investor and now living in London, he was always attending conferences with start-ups and new small tech companies, searching for new and prosperous businesses he could help grow. Usually, the start-up owners' faces would light up as soon as Carl approached them. Due to his history of putting good money into companies that he saw some future in, they always tried to impress him. Once in a while, he would get to test some of their products, usually an app or a drone, nothing ever too out of the box.

The concept of a startup was supposed to be fresh, new and exciting things but they were getting duller and duller as time went by. Even so, when his old friend Paul asked him to take a look at a specific stand to see if it would spark some interest, he decided to give it another shot. You could say he was not expecting what it was about.

"So, they give it to you so you could test it?" Maya asked him.

She was sitting by the armchair, a glass of wine in hand as she inspected the… prototype. Her green eyes were studying the thing as if it was the latest piece of technology, obvious hints of interest sparkling on them. She eyed him up, her eyebrow rising. Carl sat by the couch and rested his arms on his lap, nodding.

"They asked me if I had a special someone at home and I said yes, so they gave me… that thing!" He motioned to the object.

Maya tilted her head, honey-coloured waves falling to the side as she wetted her heavy upper lip into a smirk. "Please, Carl, is just a vibrator." She laughed. "And, to be honest, it's rude not to test it."

Her hand instantly rested on her neck, fiddling with her turtle-neck shirt. He narrowed his eyes at her and she giggled with mischief, sending a rush of blood through his body. God, how he loved her spontaneous side. He wouldn't have married anyone else.

"Why do you look like you are up for trouble?" He chuckled, leaning back.

"Because I am."

Three days later, Maya asked him out for a shopping spree and dinner. It was a bit sudden, considering they always planned the days off a week ahead. But even so, Carl reschedule his meetings and opened a space on his calendar for the day. He learned the hard way after five years in the relationship that if his wife wanted to go out, they were going out.

As soon as he parked his Mercedes, Maya's manicured hand flew to his thigh. She gave it a squeeze, blood immediately running to his cock. He looked over at her and she smiled.

"Guess what I have on," she shimmied her shoulders.

He looked at her up and down. She was wearing a floral red skirt that ended a little over her knees, a plain white t-shirt and a denim jacket, looking pretty casual for the day. He frowned and she laughed.

"Not wearing!" She gasped, shaking her head. "I'm trying the vibrator!"

"Right now?" He wondered in an almost shout, making her laugh again.

"Well, they are made for this, aren't they?" She shrugged. "And guess what, I made you the favour of downloading the app on your phone, too!"

Carl chuckled, shaking his head incredulously, but Maya only flashed him a smile and opened the car's door, jumping off it and letting to recollect his own thoughts. He watched her heading to the John Lewis store through the panel's window, wondering what the hell was going on that head of hers.

He hopped out of his car, locking it as he joined her, hand falling around her waist as if it belonged there. She peeked inside the store, craning her neck over him.

"What do you want?" He asked her.

She turned to face him with a provocative smile. "You to turn that thing on."

"Babe…"

Maya detangled herself from him and headed towards the kitchen supplies section, sighing and leaving Carl on his own. He looked down at his phone, wondering if they should. Sure, Maya was spontaneous but that was a bit too much, wasn't it? He unlocked his phone, finding the mentioned app pretty easily — she had made a point of leaving it by his main screen. It had a funny little icon that called for his finger and he tapped it. Simple enough.

Carl bit his lip, looking around. No one seemed like they were minding whatever he had on his phone. He glanced back at Maya, who had a black oven tray for baking in her hands, checking its price. Biting his other thumb, Carl turned it on.

A loud sound followed it almost immediately. The tray that was once in Maya's hand was abruptly on the floor. She lowered to grab it, snapping her face to him, who grinned back at her. Her mouth hang open with feigned shock, laughing it off almost provocatively before picking the fallen piece on the floor. 

He could still see her shoulders shaking with laughter even if she had her back to him and a sudden competitiveness took over him. Watching her, he provocatively raised the speed, more and more until he saw her stop moving. 

One of her hands flew to her mouth and the other wrapped itself around one of the shelves edges. Carl couldn't help the absolutely satisfied smile that crept to his lips as he watched her hold herself to dear life. He was enjoying the view, his heart beating fast under his shirt, until he saw an employee make their way to her.

His thumb immediately slid down, lowering the speed back to almost off. Maya snapped her head back at him but he only nodded to the employee and turned his attention elsewhere.

Carl’s mind went full speed as his wife talked to the employee. Was it possible that they got caught? And if it was the case why Carl wasn’t feeling bad at all? His blood was still pumping and he felt fucking alive. God, her face, while she tried to keep it together, was still printed onto his brain. Maybe he had a kink? Yeah, he should search about the subject later.

He only noticed he had been thinking about it for way too long when Maya came back pushing a trolley filled with a bunch of homeware. She had a smile on the corner of her mouth that for sure matched his own and was giggling as soon as she reached him.

“Fuck, I thought for sure you wouldn’t do it,” she said while tittering, shaking her head.

Raising an eyebrow, Carl’s eyes sparkled with malice. “Did the employee say something?”

“No, he thought I was feeling sick.” Maya shrugged. “I said it was just my blood pressure.”

Carl laughed at the innuendo, making the smile on his wife’s face widen. “Let’s check this stuff out, I want to pass by the clothing store before going home…” She grabbed him by his lapel, standing on her tip-toes and bringing him closer before whispering: “And fuck you on your kitchen.”

Letting him loose, Maya turned on her heels and led the way to the cashier. Suddenly, Carl felt like everything was too small… the room, his pants, her skirt— especially her skirt. It would be so easy for him to just pull it up just a little, slide his hands over her silk-like skin and feel the heat from her taking over his body.

Mouth unexpectedly dry, Carl followed her through the aisles, until they stopped by the cashier, his wife dealing with it while he waited on the other side. She looked so beautiful, hands a little reddened from the thigh grip she had just a couple of minutes earlier. 

Before he noticed it, his hands were back to his phone, fiddling with his screens, inevitably opening the app again. He bit down on his lower lip, eyes discretely searching for his wife’s but she was busy talking to the cashier lady.

And then he turned it back on.

Maya stopped talking mid-sentence straightaway, her eyes sharply turning to his. With a tight smile, she silently challenged him with an almost imperceptible rise of brows and turned back to her conversation with the cashier. 

That only ignited Carl’s desire even more and he calmly turned the speed higher. He watched as she changed the weight of one leg to the other, closing her legs shut as her hand found the edge of the checkout counter.

How much could she take, he wondered. Higher, higher, higher, he gradually turned it up, eyes never leaving his wife as she tried to pay for her stuff. She fumbled for her card inside of her hand back, hands nearly shaking.

“Let me,” Carl stepped up, taking his wallet from inside his trousers’ front pocket. He handed the plastic piece to the cashier at the same time his wife’s hand grabbed his arm. She dug her nails, reaching his skin over the layers of clothes he had on.

“Fuck, baby,” he heard her whimper in a tiny voice, making his cock throb and the hair on the back of his neck stand.

“Can you hear that?”

The cashier's voice caught both Carl's and Maya’s attention, causing their eyes to widen at the same time. Maya turned her face to him, hand flying to her mouth as she visually did her best not to make any sound — from pleasure or from embarrassment, Carl would never know.

“I’m sorry, what?” Carl asked the older lady. Playing dumb was the best, if not only, option they had.

“This buzzing sound…” The lady looked around, brows furrowed with confusion. Maya’s grip on his arm got harder, face burrowing on his side. “Is that your phone?”

Carl couldn’t help the chuckle that came out of his mouth. “Yeah, I think it’s my phone!” He said, unlocking his phone again.

“No, no, no, don’t turn it off—,” Maya whispered but he ignored it, turning the speed down until it was completely off.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he smiled at the cashier.

Maya let his arm go and stepped back from him, crossing her arms in front of her chest and he was free again to take the now bagged items back to their car. They walked to it in silence, a scowl on Maya’s face that took all of him to not laugh at — and even so, some silent chuckles left him anyway. 

“What’s up with that face?” He teased as he turned to her, closing the boot.

She puckered her lips to the side. “I told you to not turn it off!”

He slid an arm around her waist, hand flattened against her back, and brought her closer to him with a hard, rough push. Leaning down, his lips brushed against her ear. 

“I decide when we stop.”

Carl could hear her breath hitching and feel her nails against his skin again. He leaned back so he could look her in the eyes. Oh, fucking god. Her eyes were taken by pure lust, the most beautiful please, fuck me expression he had ever seen on her.

“Can we go home?” She whispered.

“Let’s buy you that dress you want first…”

The clothing shop was nearly empty — a few staff, a couple of clients. Carl sat down by one of the fancy chairs, watching as his wife waltzed around the place, heels clicking against the porcelain tile ground, the movement of her hips and long legs prompting her skirt to bounce accordingly, almost in rhythm with the slow pace of the toy between her legs.

Those wild thoughts came running to his mind again and he raised the tempo again. He watched Maya rest her arms on the counter, clenching her hands, and then he turned it down. She frowned, searching for his eyes but he purposely avoided her.

Then, he turned back up, and slowly back down. He could swear he had a glimpse of her hips softly moving before an attendant came with some dress options. Growing impatient, Carl repeated the pattern, this time going from turned off to highest speed, back to nearly off again.

Maya nodded to the attendant and grabbed the dresses. She walked to Carl, took ahold of his hand and led the way to the fitting room, pushing him inside and closing the curtain behind them.

Her lips found his almost immediately after, taking him in a desperate, hungry and passionate kiss. Her hands dropped directly to his belt, freeing him from the piece of leather in one swift movement. Soon after, his trousers were following the same path, sliding down his legs.

“What are you doing?” He chuckled, breaking off the kiss.

“I’m done with the tease,” she whispered back, lips brushing against his. “Turn that thing to max and keep quiet.”

Carl didn’t have the time to rationalise what was going on. In a second, Maya’s knees were on the floor, her mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock, tongue flickering. He only had the chance to turn the toy’s speed up before his eyes were rolling back and he had a handgrip of her hair.

She let out a delicious moan, sending waves of pleasure through his length. He took him deeper inside her throat, one of her hands wrapping around what she couldn’t take, the other massaging him. Carl had to focus all he had to not let any sound leave him.

But then her movements around his cock got careless and he heard tiny whimpers coming out from her. Mind foggy, the grasp of his hand on her hair got tougher and even though he could hear her softly moaning, he held her in place and thrust upwards.

“Fu—” he whispered, stopping mid-sentence. He couldn’t risk being caught right now.

Eyes never faltering hers, he watched as she moved one of her hands under her shirt, playing with her breasts and inciting him to reach deeper, go harder, move faster, and she took him. God, she took him wholly, even when she was lost in her own pleasure, shuddering under him, she took him so well.

Until he came, unloading low down her throat. Panting, he leaned against the wall. He barely noticed when Maya took her phone and turned it off, standing back up again with a satisfied grin on her lips. “God, Carl,” she chuckled, taking his hand. “You need to invest in this thing.”

[lostboysmate4ever]

Poly!Lost Boys x reader: Yandere blood thirsty vampires

Poly! Lost boys x reader

Warnings: Yandere!Paul, Yandere!Lostboys, blood

Y/n screamed in pain as Gregory, the leader of the surfer nazis was beating on her.

Y/n got left behind from the lost boys when they were walking on the carousel.

Y/n was walking through the carousel listening to the god awful carousel music when she saw the surfer nazis sitting around.

Greg started shit with her and she snapped at the surfer “your not a pimp. Your just a weak little boy who is trying to pretend to be a man and is weaker than the lost boys” she told him.

“Your pathetic” she told him. He got angry at her and grabbed onto her jacket pulling her close to the booth.

Punching, pulling her hair. She screamed and tried to fight him off of her but he wasn’t letting go.

He repeatedly punched her in the face. She struggled. Blood was starting to drip off of her face.

Y/n screamed even louder as Greg punched her in the nose, hearing a loud snap.

“Hey!” A voice yelled. It was Paul…

Paul was looking for y/n, their pack mate and their loving queen. They lost her on the carousel and desperately wanted to find her.

He was worried that someone will hurt their precious queen.

Paul was walking around when he heard a grunt and scream. Y/n’s blood went into his nose.

Panic hit him and he rushed to see Gregory grip on y/n as he punched her in the face repeatedly.

Blood streamed down her face as she struggled. Rage hit Paul and his yandere side and vampire protective side took over him seeing his mate getting hurt.

“Hey!” Paul yelled angry running towards them. He pulled y/n away from the surfers and punched Greg in the face hard.

He snarled at the man shaking with rage. Paul knew he couldn’t fight all the surfer nazis all by himself.

He was outranked by them. Paul rushed to y/n’s side and helped her up.

Her face was all bloody and she couldn’t see due to the blood on her eye and face.

Paul and y/n rushed off of the carousel (more like Paul forced her to walk and pulled her)

When they were far from the surfers, Paul stopped and placed y/n onto a bench.“They are fucking dead” Paul snarled. “I can’t see!” Y/n cried.

“Hang on babe!” Paul yelled rushing to grabbed a water for y/n.

Y/n couldn’t feel Paul anymore and panic hit her. Paul came back with a water bottle.

He poured the water on her face and grabbed a rag from his back pocket. He gently wiped the blood off but more blood was coming.

Guys! We have a problem! Surfer nazis hurt y/n and her face is bloody. Hurry! Paul mind linked to them.

The others instantly rushed to find them. They found them at a bench.

Paul was pouring water out of her eyes. He wiped the blood off and y/n was able to see.

Y/n opened her green eyes and Paul smiled “well hello there she is” he said. He placed his hand on her cheek. The others rushed to them shaking seeing their mate like this.

Dwayne picked her up bridal style taking off on his bike to the cave as the others attack the surfer nazis for hurting their little mate “no one fucks with y/n!” they snarled at them as they attacked.

Y/n was placed on the bed in the cave sleeping. Dwayne smiled and covered her with a blanket. He kissed her forehead and left the cave to join the others to give revenge and fed.

[bookishofalder]

Saviours Coffee House [Prologue]

Summary: Negan hires a new manager.

Warnings: Language! We’re starting off tame, but get ready because future parts get dark. WC—+2.7k.

A/N: Even if you aren’t a The Walking Dead fan, you might like this story—it’s a coffee shop A/U, I really only take the characters from TWD!

Now

Your eyes were only on Negan as he stalked forward, his normally bright eyes dark with fury as he clenched the baseball bat in his hands. You’d never seen him so angry...you’d never seen anyone so angry. Apprehension coiled in your gut, your mind blank, a doe caught in the headlights. You knew you had to move, to stop him—but part of you almost didn’t want to.

It was the part of you that had been beaten and broken over and over screaming for it to end. Screaming for you to let it happen.

And fuck, you wanted to listen to her.

Maybe you would.

—

Way Back

Negan Dean was sat at his desk, staring at the computer monitor in front of him without really seeing it. His mind had wandered away from the shop's accounting, the task he needed to complete. He had reason to be distracted, though, as he was in desperate need of a new manager, and he had a few interviews lined up that afternoon.

He’d put off rehiring for too long, left the manager position open and simply worked himself to the bone, running the place and leading it. But it had been months.

He’d needed to keep busy, after Lucille...no, he wasn’t thinking of her today. He needed to get the accounts sorted, have some lunch, and then start the interviews.

That was today’s game plan, and he was sticking to it. The extra work had finally caught up to him, as he knew it would. He was ready to step back because he was fucking exhausted and wanted to focus on his role as the owner of the Saviours Coffee House, behind the scenes. He needed a full-time manager to run the floor, someone smart and competent and good with people.

Simon had been on his ass for a while now about it, but he’d resolutely ignored his long-time friend, too stubborn for his own good. He knew Simon was right. But it was going to be on his fucking orders that a new person joined the tea—his family—even if it meant he’d fallen asleep in his office some nights, slumped over his desk in pure exhaustion.

Negan finished his task and stood, stretching out the kinks in his back, before making his way out onto the loft that overlooked most of the shop below. He had a few couches up here, and a little kitchenette next to his office, the area acting as a staff room in many ways; customers could not come up. At the opposite end of the loft, a door led up to the next floor, which was Negan’s condo. He’d bought the entire three-storey after the recession, gutted the whole thing and, working with a crew of mostly friends who had various trade jobs, renovated it entirely.

Negan was proud of Saviours Coffee House, a dream that he hadn’t always had come to life in the walls of what used to be an old, relatively small, textile factory. Now situated in the heart of downtown, it was the perfect spot for an edgy, laid-back place to unwind, meet friends, go on dates. Hell, Negan loved looking down and seeing a customer stay the whole day as they worked, even if they only bought one coffee. As far as he was concerned, the moment you spent a dime in his place, you were a customer for the day. And that had been a hit with many of the locals and students from the nearby university. Open five-thirty in the morning till eleven-thirty in the evening, Saviours welcomed all. So long as you kept your feet off the fucking tables and minded your manners.

In his former life, Negan worked as a high-ranking guard at the nearby penitentiary. It was a minimum-security, well-funded place where non-violent criminals ended up. He’d loved his years there, but after getting stabbed for the second time (the first was when he was young enough that he’d bounced back almost instantly) he decided to retire.

He sunk all of his savings into this dream, and years later had a lot to show for it. He’d also met a lot of down on their luck men in his time as a guard, so after Saviours became successful, he started a hiring program for white-collar criminals who completed a local, not-for-profit reintegration program. He only kept two on at a time, and most moved on after saving up enough.

Currently at the bar was Dwight, who’d been with Negan the longest now, having started just over a year before after getting out from serving time for drug possession. If Negan was proud of anything, it was Dwight. He’d seen the man evolve from a quiet asshole who barely grunted when customers paid, to a friendly bartender who mixed both amazing lattes and delicious cocktails, even if he grumbled about it. He was a fixture here now as much as Negan—and probably more well-liked, but Negan didn’t care about being liked. As long as people were happy, he was just fine.

It was the post-lunch lull now, so Dwight was wiping up the counters and switching the signs around from daytime menus to evening. Maggie, who had been working at Saviours for about two years, was wiping down the tables while Fleetwood Mac played over the expensive Bluetooth stereo system. He’d asked Maggie if she wanted the job, but she’d only laughed before telling him plainly that she had no desire to work full time or see him that much. He’d figured as much, seeing as she was in university, but he had wanted her to know it was hers if she did want it—she’d earned it.

Dwight was happy where he was, and didn’t want to upset the balance in life he’d worked so hard for, which Negan respected. His newest employee, also a convict hire, wasn’t up to scruff to become the manager, as much as he liked Paul, or ‘Jesus’, as everyone called him. He was a nice kid, worked hard, but seemed content working three part-time jobs. That had left Rosita and Tara, both part-time and students, and then Carol, part-time and not interested as she worked as a volunteer at the Children’s Hospital and didn’t want to give that up.

Which left him where he was now, stomping up the steps to his place to have a quick lunch before back-to-back interviews of promising contenders for a job he wished like hell he didn’t need to fill.

+

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” Negan slammed his hands onto the marble counter in frustration as Dwight watched him. He smirked as he tidied up the barista station.

“That bad, boss?” Dwight was shit at keeping the amusement off of his face. Negan scoffed, glancing behind him to ensure no customers were listening, but it was busy enough now with the after-class and work rush that the cacophony of voices and music allowed him to speak privately despite the location.

Negan held up one hand, holding his thumb and index finger a sliver apart. “I’ve got this much fucking patience left. Only one candidate wasn’t a god damned catfish and I didn’t like him,” He sighed, nodding gratefully when Dwight pointed to the espresso machine, knowing Negan needed his usual five o'clock pick-me-up. “I’ve got one last one; Daryl's friend. If she doesn’t fit, I’m going to have to beg Maggie—and you know she’ll love that too much to say yes.”

With a laugh, Dwight nodded in agreement, expertly moving about making Negan’s latte. “Carol seemed pretty sure you’d like her, said Daryl thinks of her like a little sister and when he heard you were looking for someone he was adamant she’d be perfect.”

Negan sighed, “Yeah, and I like Daryl so if this doesn’t work out and I have to start hating him I’m going to be real pissed off. Thanks, D.” He added when Dwight passed over the piping hot drink, still grinning at Negan’s displeasure.

Dwight dipped his head forward, eyes behind Negan, “I think that must be her, don’t recognize her and she’s dressed too nice for this place.” With that, he turned away and started loading dishes into one of the dishwashers. Negan turned, eyes scanning for the potential candidate, and he didn’t have to look far.

Because there you were, right out of a fucking dream.

Dwight had been right, you were dressed far too nicely for Saviours, but perfect for an interview (which instantly gave you points over a few of the previous interviewees). You were weaving by a few men who were standing at a high table and hadn’t yet noticed Negan, which allowed him to survey you.

The pretty green dress paired with a smart leather jacket and shiny kitten heels gave off an air of sophistication, accentuated your curves beautifully, and rendered his mind to mush for a brief moment. You wore your hair down, and it fell in elegant waves around your shoulders. Fuck, though, if you weren’t the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

He thought Carol had mentioned you were in your mid-twenties, but you walked with more confidence about you than one usually saw in those formative years. Already impressed, Negan pushed himself away from the counter, stepped forward and smiled.

You looked around, his movement catching your eye, and returned the smile warmly as you approached. No doubt, you’d looked up their social media, seen pictures of Negan. Any smart candidate would do that, and Negan could already tell you were a clever girl. He called your name over the music, and you nodded, extending your hand

Negan took it into his and shook, enjoying how small your hand was compared to his. You were curvy and petite in the best ways, so much shorter than him but fully voluptuous, and you dressed like you knew you looked damn good, fuck whatever society said about beauty standards. “Mr. Dean, it’s great to meet you, sir.”

Negan grinned down at you, then pointed toward the staircase to your left, “Come on up, it’s quieter in the office.” And he led the way.

When he glanced back to make sure you were following, Negan saw you looking toward Dwight, giving him a friendly wave. He gave you a nod, a near smile, a pretty decent result from the house grump. He needed a manager who could get along with everyone, so right there was another point in your favour.

Closing the door brought the loudness of Saviours down to mere background noise, the evening crowds were always loud as shit. Negan loved it, the differences between the start and end of days, the energy. He gestured toward two armchairs he had, hating the process of sitting behind a desk to interview like he was some hot shot lawyer. He preferred the less intimidating, friendly way. It was just a coffee shop, after all.

A damn good one, though.

When you settled, Negan took his seat across from you, suddenly feeling a little distracted under the gaze of your bright eyes. “Well I’ll get straight to it; you come highly recommended by both Carol and Daryl. I won’t lie, I’m a pain in the ass to work for and I’m looking for someone who can handle hard work, long hours and most importantly, get along with my people. You really think that’s you?”

You were sitting with your back straight, legs crossed at the ankles, hands in your lap. You looked entirely at ease, meeting Negan’s eyes straight on as he spoke. When he finished, you leaned forward almost imperceptibly, your response instant.

“I’m exactly what you’re looking for, sir. I love people and get along with everyone. Do you think I’m best friends with Daryl and don’t know how to deal with a pain in the ass?” At this, Negan smirked, “I’m hardworking, and I have no other major commitments, so full time and long hours will suit me just fine.” You had a lovely voice, which was probably why you’d stayed working at the sales call centre for years before now.

In your resume, Negan had noted the year gap in wor—you had stopped working for the call centre just over a year ago, though it was noted you were a freelance writer and kept income that way. But he found it curious that you’d been working since you were a teenager and yet hadn't worked a solid job in a year. And now that he’d met you, he could see you were the hardworking type. Carol hadn’t known why you’d been away from a job for so long, stating that Daryl knew but didn’t tell her. He had said it didn’t matter, and that was good enough for Negan.

“Well, I’ll admit, on paper you’re ideal, which is why I scheduled you last today. I wanted to have time to read you.”

“And,” You interjected, a small smirk on your lips, “You know that keeping someone waiting the whole day for an interview will shred their nerves and leave them more susceptible to letting their true colours out.”

Negan stared, surprised, “Can’t get much past you, eh?”

You shrugged, “It’s a good tactic. But I assure you, I’m just as competent in the evening as the morning, and I think if you give me a chance to prove myself, you’ll be very happy with hiring me, Mr. Dean. I want to work here, you have an amazing place. It’s a part of this community, and the reintegration program is something I respect greatly, I have no issues working with men hired from there.” You paused, adjusting yourself slightly, palms falling open on your legs, “And, I’ll be frank, I want a job that has long days, that’ll keep me busy and tire me out and let me build relationships with customers. When I found out you were hiring, I jumped on the chance for Daryl to have Carol put in a good word for me. It just seems...right, to work here.”

“What about your writing, do you still do that?” Negan watched your face closely, and it didn’t waver, instead, your smile widened.

“I can write anywhere, anytime. And I make my own schedule with whatever commissions I take on, so it’ll be easy to write on my days off, or breaks if I don’t have a day off,” You pointed at Negan’s phone, which he’d set on the wide arm of his chair, “I can also help with writing any social media or website content, I know Carol mentioned you wanted to expand that presence, and I’m comfortable with that sort of work.”

Negan considered you, letting a comfortable silence fall as he thought over your words. You did seem eager, excited, and the fact that you’d researched what he was looking for impressed him further. Breaking eye contact, he glanced down at your resume once more, though he couldn’t think of anything else to ask. If he was honest with himself, he was ready to hire you after the first two minutes.

“I like you,” He said, thrumming his hands on his knees, “When can you start?”

“In the morning? Or I can go home, have my dinner and come back dressed more appropriately for work, if you need me straight away, sir.”

Negan shook his head, both as a response and in an attempt to toss away the thoughts that stirred up in the back of his mind every time you called him ‘sir’. “Tomorrow morning is perfect. And since you work for me now, you can call me Negan, asshole, or shithead, no more ‘Mr. Dean’ or fucking, ‘sir’, okay?”

When you smiled at Negan, it was the most dazzling he’d seen yet, bright white teeth and sweet dimples making his heart stutter. Damn, you really affected him. He needed to get a gri—you were half his age, for Christ's sake.

“Thank you, Negan,” You stood, holding your hand out and grasping his when he offered, your head tilting back to look at him as he stood before you. “Really, I promise I’ll make you proud.”

“Kid, I don’t doubt it.” He replied softly, and for a moment you simply looked at one another. Negan wasn't sure if you felt it, but he did; it was a spark. Fleeting, but strong enough that he knew life was about to get interesting again.

Taglist: @mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711 @ladydmalfoy 🤍

[raphianna]

The trio react to losing their favourite stuffed toy (no one knows they have it shhh)

I— this isn’t a reaction blog. But, ok…

Perry:

Well… this is not ok.

Perry has a small stuffed cat. It fits in the palm of his hand so that he can keep it in his pocket. Every night, he sticks it in the pocket of the pants he plans on wearing the next day so he has it ready.

Similar to his lucky handkerchief that he keeps in his suit jacket, he feels it brings him luck, especially in the courtroom.

When he slipped his hand into his pocket the next morning, his heart skipped a beat when it wasn’t there. He was still home alone, so he frantically checks the pants he wore the day before, but the cat wasn’t there either. He looks in, on, and around his nightstand. It’s not there either.

He goes to the office then. Being the only one there at the time, he goes through his office drawers, and any other small nooks and crannies he may have dropped his cat, but still finds nothing. He settles down by the time the others arrive.

He looks fine on the outside, especially if no one knows he has it, but don’t be fooled, he isn’t comfortable for the rest of the day or for however long it remains missing.

(He named the stuffie ‘Teacup’)

Della:

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…

Della has a stuffed lizard. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, she was out shopping one day, and happened to pass by it at a kids’ store. She thought it was cute and she bought it.

The toy is somewhat big, going from the palm of her hand to the middle of her forearm. She carries it around most the time, keeping it curled up in the bottom of her purse, like it’s sleeping.

Her apartment floor is a mess, the contents of her purse dumped out, as everything important she needed, sans her lizard, was there.

She was more methodical and level-headed when searching the rest of her home. She would have continued looking had a call from Perry not come in, telling her she was late and asking if she was alright.

She goes into the office, noticeably down and upset, but not even Perry asking what was the matter would get her to talk.

(She named her stuffie ‘Pear’)

Paul:

The house (office) is on fire, God is dead, the world is turning dark.

Paul has a stuffed dog, specially made to model Sammy from the Forbes’ case after he took the dog in.

The toy is half the size of a small cat. Too big to carry around unnoticed, so he keeps it in his office in a drawer in his desk. He sometimes takes it out of the drawer to place at the window behind him to ‘give him some sun’, cuddle with it, or place it on his desk to be like a little companion for him for a while.

When he gets to the office in the morning, he’s feeling a bit more clingy, so he decides to bring out his stuffie for a while.

There’s no comfort when the drawer is opened. The dog is gone.

He immediately tears the drawer apart, but it’s not there.

Keeping himself under control, he tears his office inside out.

Did the cleaning staff find the dog and throw it away? Was it left on his desk and someone took it? If he squeaks at that, that’s his business.

He has no regard for keeping it secret at that point, and is pleading with his employees if they saw a stuffed dog anywhere. But he’s talking a mile a minute so no one understands him.

If he starts bawling in Perry’s arms, well, that’s a secret between them, and one-sided reason as to why.

(The stuffie's name is ‘Sunny’)

[soullesscoffee]

men after midnight || part two

{ poly!the lost boys x fem!reader }

|| part one || part three ||

rating: explicit

word count:  4814

chapter summary: the lost boys have caught their fun for the night. they take the reader back to the cave to continue their endeavors for the night.

warning: smut, 18+ reader only please, lewd language, fem!reader, mentioning of female genitalia, foursome, voyeurism, cunnilingus, female body parts, use of tobacco, use of liquor, use of marijuana, hints of blood, bodily liquids, blood kink, vampires fucking a human, this has not been proof read, first time really writing a smut chapter, and dirty talk.

a/n: i have been so hesitant on releasing this chapter. this is my first time writing something explicit for a long chapter. please do not read if you are not comfortable with female body parts and bodily functions. other than that ENJOY!

“Are you sure you don’t need me for the rest of the night?” You ask the bride concerning, you were the maid of honor after all you felt like shit for just leaving like this. Yet she seemed more than happy to let you leave with the band of misfits that stood waiting for you by the stairs of the boardwalk. Jennifer could only shine you a grin. “Come on, I mean when are you ever going to be invited by a group like that. Plus it’s finally time someone gets in your pants and lets you have some fun! You have been just as stressed about this wedding and it’s not even yours. Go on, get some!” Jennifer teased tugging on your belt loop of your jean shorts. You could only roll your eyes at her statement. However, you bit your lip to hide your excited smile. As you turned over your shoulder Jennifer landed a righteous smack on your bottom, which caused you to jump and hurry further away from her. 

Once you approached the guys you could feel your cheeks starting to redden once again. God what were you doing? You aren’t in high school anymore! What if they kill you? You have a wedding to run! The snaking of an arm around your waist distracts you from your further endeavors of freaking out mentally. “So babe, which one are you riding with tonight?” Paul asks slyly as he pulls you closer to his side, you could feel his jacket ornaments pressing into your bare skin. You couldn’t help but clear your throat, “I think I am going to tag along with Dwayne, no offense, but you two seem a bit wild.” You start as you pull away from the wild blonde to the brunette who was smirking down at you in a silent victory. There was a gaggle of chuckles coming from the boys. “Oh you have no idea,” Paul snickers walking up the steps leading the boys to their bikes. You swallow as you watch them the sudden frigid of anxiety causing your body to stiffen at just the sight of the motorbikes. Yet once again to coax you with a chilled hand on your back, “It’s okay, I promise I will be careful.” Dwayne whispers in your ear before shuffling to his back which he so effortlessly gets on. He hikes his tight jeans up to get more comfortable. The small action caused you to swallow. “O-okay.” You whisper as you mount his bike. Carefully you wrapped your arms around his waist. A chuckle erupted from his chest as he pulled you closer and wrapped your arms tighter, “You’re gonna want to hold on tighter, I said I would be careful, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t be going fast.” He claimed, smirking at your over his shoulder, “Hold on tight,” he kicked his bike to life and revved the engine. You could feel your body vibrating from the machine below you. It almost made your teeth chatter from the amount of power it had. After that line of reeves you heard hoops and hollers from the other men who zoomed off. The two of you were last to follow them soon a squeal leaving your lips as the bike was jolted forward.

You look around in the cave the men have lowered you into. The cave seemed like the breathed life itself, yet you didn’t question them on how they lived. It was interesting to hear the backstory of the place and how it once used to be a resort. It seemed like it would’ve been beautiful. Yet once again you were lost in your thoughts when Paul kneeled in front of your tense form. His hands splaying across your exposed thighs, it took you a moment to realize what was happening. You snapped to your senses. The sudden smell of a familiar skunk like smell that was accompanied with a melody of soft rock in the background. Each boy was doing their own thing around the cave, talking amongst themselves or picking out music. “Did you want a hit?” Paul asks, holding a burning joint between his fingers. Jeez when was the last time you took a hit off of one of these? “Why the hell not,” you mumbled attempting to take the joint from the blonde but he only pulled it away. Tsks left his lips and he shook his head, “No, part those pretty lips,” he directs you, squeezing your thigh lightly. You swallowed at the direction before parting your lips. Paul smirked up at you placing the end of the blunt between your lips. Once you inhale taking a short puff he trails his hands to the end of your shorts giving a light tug, “Good girl.” He praises which causes you to choke on the smoke. 

“Damn, Paul, we don’t want her to die on us.” Marko chimes from behind you moving your hair from your neck to help you cool down. Yet his hands sweep your hair to the side and his fingertips trail over the curve of your neck. “Plus, we don’t want her to be only choking on some smoke tonight,” Marko adds to the teasing which causes your face to turn red. Holy shit. What is happening?! “Knock it off,” David chimes from his wheelchair, his leg hiked up as he chain-smoked from his cigarette. The giggling boys backed off but of course not without Paul giving you a wink. You give a grateful nod to David as you lean back on the couch trying to calm your racing heart that wanted to escape your chest. You notice David only gave a smirk at your startled state in response. Yet Paul sat next to you sharing his joint with you. You never realized how fun these guys actually were. They were so relaxing to be around. Or was that the joint finally hitting you?

“What rude hosts of us!” Marko piped from the other side of the cave, “We haven’t offered Y/N a drink yet.” A devious smirk grew on his lips and you could only perk up trying to figure out what he was planning. Your legs slightly moved off of Paul’s lap as you tried to see what Dwayne was off to get. Paul pulled your legs back onto his lap and traced endless lines and shapes into your soft skin. You could only giggle mindlessly at the ministrations that caused goosebumps to raise on your skin. Your once tense nature was long gone by now. The mind high had taken over, investing your head with calm behavior. As you started to have a giggle attack come on you felt a chilled hand wrap around your throat from behind you. The hand tilted your head back effortlessly. You look up to see Dwayne and a bottle of liquor, you furrow your brows confused at his stance and his intentions. “Open up, sweetheart,” Marko chimed as he sat next to Paul. Your eyes flicker between Dwayne’s strong, dark eyes, searching for what was happening. However, you comply, you open your mouth slightly but Dwayne’s thumbs tilts your chin down to open your parted lips more. He leans down and parts his lips as well, the amber liquid falls into your mouth from his. Holy shit. Was the only thought that ran through your mind as he did this. You swallowed the alcohol and a drop cascaded down the corner of your lips threatening to fall off your chin. Dwayne dipped in time and latched his lips to yours, sweeping his tongue to steal the drop. You gasp into the action but relax once his lips mold to yours into a tender heated kiss. The kiss tasted of the liquor and of him. Nothing but him filled your senses, you didn’t even notice Paul’s hands massaging your thighs to trick your legs apart. 

Dwayne inhales sharply from the kiss and pulls his hand from your throat and down your chest where he teases the hem of the cropped shirt. He tugged on it before pulling away and pushing you up to face Paul who practically pulled your into his lap. The sudden move made you dizzy but the alcohol made you feel warm the second it hit your system. You pant against Paul’s features, your eyelids heavy with lust and desire. You feel your hands crawl up his neck to his jaw where you pull him into a fiery kiss. This kiss ignited another level of desire. You were buzzing with want. You wanted more, you wanted everything, you wanted them. Chuckles echoed off of the cave walls as you made out with Paul, they continued as your hips instinctively rolled against Paul’s instantly causing him to pull away with a groan. “So eager.” He whispers against your lips with a grin. “I wouldn’t be if you wouldn’t stop teasing me.” You reply breathlessly connecting your forehead to his.

“Teasing?” Paul questions loudly, which causes Marko to giggle behind his fingerless gloves. “Marko! Is that what we’re doing?”

“I don’t know Paul, why who thinks that?”

“Y/N thinks we are teasing her.” Paul smirks and faces you to Marko who leans closer to you with his arm behind Paul.

“Is that what she thinks? She hasn’t even scratched the surface.” Marko whispers ghosting his lips over yours, coaxing you to lean closer to him. As if you were in a trance you crawl off of Paul’s lap towards Marko. Your hands press into the velvet of the vintage couch to balance yourself. “Then show me.” You commanded which caused the curly haired man to present his signature Cheshire grin. 

“You think she can handle it?” Marko asks the Lost Boys, his head tilted as he leans back as your body starts to lean over his. You trap him between your arms with you leg between his. 

“She can handle it. Why don’t we give her what she wants,” David starts from afar, no longer visible from the spotlight of the moon on his chair. The only thing visible was his turquoise eyes from afar. “Give the lady what she craves the most. Fill her every need.” David orders. With your eyes glued on him in shock at him accepting the situation. Yet that was all it took for the three men to start their endeavors. Marko’s lips instantly attacked your neck, causing you to gasp and grasp onto the back of his head as he pushed you up to kneeling on the couch. Before your eyes could flutter close you could see David flicker his lighter to the dead end of his cigarette, his bright eyes practically glowing in the dark. In the second you closed your eyes you could swear you saw the orbs turn a tinge of yellow. That didn’t matter.

So many hands were splaying across your body, feeling you up and down, over your clothes some dipping below the frail pieces of fabric. Your fingers get lost in Marko’s curls as he finds the secret spot on your neck that causes you to elicit a delicate moan from your parted lips. A single hand dipped into the back of your shorts in an attempt to pull them down as lips delicately kissed your exposed back from the crop top that was already halfway up your torso over your breasts. With your eyes screwed shut you could feel delicate fingers unclasp your bra from behind. The freedom caused your ears to burn and tension making your spine go frigid. 

“Don’t be like that, relax, let us take care of you.” Marko whispered against your neck before pulling away and swiping your shirt off of you, tossing it aimlessly through the air. You blink at him as he admires you as if you were the most captivating thing he has ever laid eyes on. The expression caused your neck to grow red and a ball to tighten deep in your stomach. His head tilts up to kiss your sternum, slowly making his way down the line of bone to the crevice between your breast. There he nipped with a smirk as he mused at your gasp. He didn’t hesitate to take a breast into his mouth. The pressure of his mouth on our nipple caused your moan and threw your head back into a hand which grasps your hair. Your eyes widen slightly at the sudden tug on your roots but relax against the stubble and smooth lips of Dwayne. The teasing was already causing a heat and a tight ball to coil deep in your core. You could feel yourself already soaking through the thin garment of your underwear. The sudden pinch of Marko’s fingers and the sliding of Paul’s fingers over your clothes slit caused you to moan into Dwayne’s kiss. He only swallowed the moan and pressed deeper into the kiss, his long brunette hair tickling your features as he leaned over the couch.

Paul manages to unzip your shorts with the help of Marko’s action of unbuttoning your shorts. Dwayne ended the kiss with dragging your lower lip between his teeth. You whip your head as Marko switched to the lonely breast and licked his way around the areola before sucking on the perked nipple. The sight caused you to whimper and tug on his curls. Marko growled in response and pushed down your shorts and panties without hesitation. “Stand up,” Dwayne commands from the shadows behind the couch. You comply and stand with the help of Paul lifting you so Marko could tear the useless clothing off your body and throw them somewhere in the cave. Paul swiftly takes you in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and starts to walk towards an end of the cave into one of the few tunnels. Not caring you push his hair to the side and start to ghost your lips against where his pulse point would be. Before you could actually kiss your neck he lets you down on a mattress where you fall on a mountain of blankets and pillows. It was a nest. It was so soft under your exposed skin, just the sensation of the fabric enough was to stimulate your senses.

The room was dark, only lit by a few white scentless candles and nothing else. Four dark figures circle around you on the bed. All looking down at you with hunger and lust in their eyes. In a split moment you felt like it was too many eyes on you. You go to cover your chest with your arms as you sit on your heels turning to see who was at what side of the mattress. Paul in front of you, Dwayne behind you, Marko to your left and David to your right. Your pulse was skyrocketing as you covered your chest uncomfortable with the silence. However, hands wrapped around your wrists from behind you, “Don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt you, we only want to pleasure you,” Dwayne whispers from behind pinning your hands to your sides. His hand pinches your chin between his fingers to tilt your head to look towards him. He nuzzled his nose against yours before dipping in for a kiss, the kiss was reassuring and comforting, yet his opposite hand trailed down your abdomen landing just above your core. You moan into the kiss and Dwayne pulls away and makes you face Dwayne as he trails his hands down your neck and your back as he watches you crawl to Paul. Your fingertips pull Paul towards by the belt hanging off of his hips on his white pants. Your fingers work at the belt in a hurry, fumbling with the complicated belt. As you did you felt Dwayne’s fingers graze your ass dipping to the back of your thighs. You slip down Paul’s white pants surprised there was no zipper or anything and swallowed that he wasn’t wearing any underwear and that his free member sprung free with anticipation. Your big eyes looked up at Paul and smirked at you and gently caressed your cheek in encouragement, “Don’t be so shy babe, show us what you can do.”

With that encouragement you grasped his shaft gently before pressing your lips to the side of it. You teased around with your tongue, spit, and your lips. Paul hissed and grasped your hair tightly with a groan, “Damn, don’t be teasing me now.” Paul grumbles with one eye closed in pain as you continue your teasing. Yet his reaction was enough for you to take the tip into your mouth. You slid your tongue around and on the slit of the head that was swollen with arousal. Paul stripped off his jacket and shirt and kicked off his pants as he held your head steady as he carefully thrusted into your mouth. “Fuck yes, good girl. Yeah, take all of me in your dirty mouth,” Paul moans tugging on your roots. With hollowed cheeks you moaned as Dwayne’s finger grazed your slit, taking in your wetness on his two fingers, amused by how wet you were. His lips started at the low of your back, teasing you as he continued lower and lower, your moan was muffled by Paul pushing his cock deeper into your throat. You inhaled sharply through your nose as his cockhead touched the back of your throat slowly causing you to gag and your eyes to prickle with tears. Paul was quick to pull out and Dwayne was quick to dip into your heat. Strings of saliva fell from your mouth as you gasped for air. Yet the gasps were inward moans as you felt Dwayne suck on your needy clit. Paul grasps your chin before you can look down and places a few chaste kisses on your lips and pushes the hair out of your face. You moaned into the kisses as Dwayne swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud soon dipping towards your entrance. Paul soon stands and presses the head of his cock against your lips asking for entrance once again. You agree and take him once again into your mouth sucking and massaging the rest of his shaft that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You try your best to focus and breathe through your nose but you yelp around the flesh in your mouth as Dwayne slips a finger in your entrance pumping a steady rhythm.

The sound of a chair shuffling in the room causes your eyes to shift to your peripheral where you see David take a seat gracefully and keep a sharp eye on your sinful actions. Paul snickers at this and thrusts into your mouth, “You like it when other people watch? Such a dirty girl. Isn’t she?” Paul asks and tilts his head back moaning as you moan around his cock. “She is, such a slut to be fucking three guys at once. She likes it when other people watch too. Look at her blushing. It’s so cute.” Marko joins and shifts himself on the bed. Just then Dwayne adds another finger causing you to moan as he stretches you out with his fingers. Scissoring his fingers to massage your cunt and stretch you out for any of them. After a moment he hits a spot in your heat that causes your body to surge and for you to pull away from Paul’s shaft with a gasp. You heave for fresh air as Dwayne hits it once more kissing your lower back as he continues his fingers against the sweet spot in a quicker rhythm. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You yell out curling your toes and clenching the blanket below you. As your moans get louder Dwayne goes faster and kisses your ass quickly biting down, you yelp at the action feeling a sharp pain that soon turns into unimaginable pleasure. With that last push of pleasure you are pushed over the edge, not noticing the fact that something warm was trailing down the back of your thigh. As you came your body twitched and your chest fell to the mattress so your ass was right up in the air. Dwayne helped you ride out the high and gave a sweet kiss on your back as leather clad palms flipped you to your back. Marko was now in front of you, “You think you take more?” He asks, tilting his head, he had his pants unbuckled and below his groin, his cock restraining against the fabric of his underwear. The only response you can give is a hum and pull him close with your legs wrapped around his waist. You moan as his clothed dick pressed against your wet throbbing core. Paul and Dwayne dipped their way on the mattress splaying their fingers on your body, touching every inch of your skin with passion to stimulate your mind. 

Marko was swift at pushing his underwear out of the way and he pushed his jacket off as well, tossing it and tying his hair into a low ponytail before leaning over you. You grasp his shaft and line him up, “Holy shit,” you whisper feeling just how girthy he was. Marko smirked down at you and placed a passionate kiss on your lips to distract you as he pushed his cock into your warmth. A high pitched moan left your throat as you felt him stretch you out filling every inch of you. You pull away to gasp as he bottoms out in you. “Holy shit,” you repeat breathlessly and arch your back. Marko slowly thrusts to start you off and you can’t help but moan every time he pulls away enjoying the pleasure of the pressure in your pelvis and the tightness of his hands pushing your hips down into the mattress. As his speed picks up and your moans become louder you open your eyes to Paul and Dwayne each attached to a breast. “Oh God!” You call out grasping both of their heads, entangling your fingers in their hair. “Oh shit, babe! You feel so fucking good!” Marko gasps as he hardens his thrusts pulling you in with each thrust. 

“Fuck, oh fuck!” You yell out as you feel the coil build up in the pit of your stomach once more. This one feeling more powerful than the last. Paul lets go of your nipple with a pop and kisses up your neck, “Keep yelling like that babe, it’s so fucking hot. Louder.” Paul mumbles against your skin between hickeys and nips. The encouragement caused you to moan with each stroke of Marko’s power. With your loud moans fingers find your swollen clit rubbing it in patterns you couldn't recognize but it sent your mind through another universe. Your legs tighten around Marko’s waist as his thrusts begin to get sloppy as you feel Paul’s teeth graze your neck, along with something sharp that wasn’t his blunt teeth. Goosebumps raise on your skin and your toes curl as he bites down on your neck. The pain was distracted by the pleasure as the filthy actions continue on your clit. Energy surges through your body as the coil begins to snap. As you feel yourself going over the edge and a string of curses leaving your lips all the men pull away. You whine out of irritation and you are flipped around within a blink of an eye. Kneeling on the bed and with both of the blondes by your side you couldn’t use your investigation skills as your world was spinning. Dwayne lines his cock against your entrance and slips in with ease causing you to roll your eyes back in pleasure. “Oh my God,” you breathlessly moan into the air. as he thrusts shallowly into you. 

The rustling of leather causes you to snap your eyes forward to see David squatting in front of you. His eyes admiring your disheveled state, drinking you in with each second that passes by. Each moan and yelp causes his sly smirk to grow bigger by the moment. His leather clad hand reaches up to your forehead and pushes back the hairs that stuck to your face from the perspiration that surfaced. “No God has anything to do with this, sweetheart.” David whispers; his cold breath hitting your features causes you to flutter your eyes closed. “Such a good girl, look at you. Obedient, taking all the pleasure,” David starts and trails his hand down your neck swiping the warm liquid that was falling from your chest. When your eyes opened from Dwayne thrusting once again against you sweet spot you gasped against David. He held a finger in his mouth sucking off whatever was on it. “Oh kitten, you taste so sweet. Let go, come for us. Let it all go.” He whispers and wraps his hand around your throat, giving it a steady pressure that caused your eyes to roll back and close. “Let go.” He whispers as Dwayne erratically thrusts from behind you, pressing you further into David’s hand. “Let go, come for us.” One last graze against your g spot sent you spiraling and David was the one to catch your moans and gasps with his lips. The kiss was hard and dominating as his tongue clashed with yours, wrestling for dominance. To ride out your high Dwayne rubbed your clit quickly and with passion to get you over the edge faster.

Dwayne groaned and pulled out spilling his seed on your back. You could hear Paul and Marko as well moan in unison from what you can puzzle from them pleasuring themselves. You felt more liquid hit your back and sides. David pulled away gracefully leaving you to ride out your high with loud moans and gasps as your body convulsed with pleasure. Your body wanted to collapse against the bed but strong arms held you by your waist. Your eyes closed for a moment, causing you not to pick up any recognition of what was happening. You blinked in and out of the punks cleaning you up. Even Paul dressed you in a large band t-shirt and your underwear. You only could remember the feeling of fingertips brushing over your features and a pair of cool lips pressed against your forehead. 

Your wild night concluded you were entangled with four bodies of strangers you met that crashed the bachelorette party. Each one took care of you in a different way. Each one touching your body one way whether that be by their hands, legs, or feet. You all were piled in one bed. The soft and warm nest lulled you to a deep sleep that would seem eternal.

You wake up with a shift in the bed as Paul pulls you closer to his bare chest. He held you delicately as Marko had his arms wrapped around Paul's waist but holding your hand. Dwayne had a hand on your thigh as he laid on his back as with David by his side with his head resting under his own arm no longer wearing his layers. You blink at your darken surroundings. You try to shift but your body screams with anger and protest as it was sore and worn out. You inhale sharply trying not to wake the boys as you sneak out of their grasps. Standing on the bed you shift to your feet. For a moment you admire the sight in front of you. How peaceful they all looked sleeping. Then it hit you like a brick wall. You did not just do that!! As you tiptoed around the bodies to hop off the mattress a strong of whispered curses left your mouth as you struggled to find your way out of the tunnel. Once you reach the main area of the cave you search for your shorts. Eventually finding them you turn off the radio that was still playing the soft rock from last night. As you put on your shorts stiffly you struggle to find a mirror to make sure you look presentable. Yet there were no mirrors. Who the hell does not have mirrors?! This was going to be worse walk of shame in the history of sex.

You sweep your shoes from the ground and on your feet. With a struggle you find your way out of the cave and on top of the cliff. Holy shit was it bright out. Your whole body was beating you up as you just had climbed up flights of stairs to get on the dirt path. Hudson’s bluff. You haven’t been out here since high school. And that was to buy from a sketchy dealer and get drunk in the little bit of forest. “Holy shit, I can’t believe I just did that.” You grumble rubbing your face looking out at the horizon of crashing waves. A huff leaves your lips as you straighten out the oversized shirt, “Well, time to be in a wedding.” 

[morganaspendragonss]

holding our breath (again)

in which carlos is at the minefield call, like he deserved to be.

title from the projectionist by sleeping at last

ao3 | 1.9k | 2.06 spoilers

They’re late arriving to the scene, the rescue already well underway when Carlos pulls up. His heart sinks when he sees the large 126 emblazoned on the side of the firetruck; normally, he loves getting on calls with them, but an active minefield is the last place he wants to find his danger-magnet boyfriend. His only consolation is that TK should be hanging back with the rest of the team, but that doesn’t stop the fear, which, at this point, is just a given.

Only, he can’t find TK anywhere, and Carlos barely listens to the sheriff briefing them, his need to make sure TK’s safe winning out. He and Owen are the only ones missing, including the paramedics, and Carlos - well, Carlos knows what that means. But he refuses to think it, even if he’s only buying himself a few more seconds of relief.

He heads over to the rest of the 126, pointedly not looking at the minefield as he approaches. Paul greets him with a tight nod, then goes back to staring outwards.

Carlos leans in. “Who’s out there?” he murmurs, though he knows, deep down, that it doesn’t need asking.

Someone needs help, and TK’s nowhere to be seen. It’s an easy conclusion.

Paul’s mouth twists into a sympathetic grimace. “Who do you think?”

Carlos squeezes his eyes shut, feels a hand gripping his shoulder. He takes a couple of steadying breaths, then finally - finally - forces himself to look.

He’s just in time to see TK take another leap, and his breath catches in his throat as he watches TK stumble, hand landing perilously close to the edge of the circle. Carlos had thought there’d be nothing worse than watching the man he loves run into burning buildings, but this… This is some kind of torture, the knowledge that TK’s safety - his life - rests almost entirely on pure luck.

“Why’s TK even out there?” he asks, turning his body towards Paul though his eyes remain locked on his boyfriend. It’s a distraction, of a kind, to stop his mind from barrelling down all the worst case scenarios. “Shouldn’t it be a paramedic with Captain Strand?”

“He is one,” Paul answers. “Dual function medic in New York, apparently. Must have kept his certifications up to date since coming out here. Nancy’s out on medical leave after one of the trial medics ran the ambulance over her foot, and Mr Perfect Record over there chickened out. Captain Vega was going to go but then TK, uh.” Paul stops, clearing his throat nervously, and Carlos feels his own heart rate tick up even as he realises with some relief that TK and Owen are almost at the two boys. When Paul speaks again, his voice is quieter, speeding through the words as if he doesn’t want Carlos to hear them. “He volunteered.”

“He what?” And Carlos does look over then, turning to gape at Paul, which is of course when it happens.

One of the mines goes off.

TK’s name rips out of his mouth as he takes an unconscious step forward, though he’s blocked from going further by a hand on his arm yanking him backwards. Carlos lets himself be manhandled, his mind feeling separate from his body as they wait for the smoke to clear. 

He can just about see TK crouching on the edge of the blast, an arm flung protectively over his head, which at least means he’s alive. He could still be hurt, though, could still be bleeding out, and Carlos has never felt more helpless.

“Breathe, Reyes,” Judd reminds him, leaning close to his ear, and Carlos manages a tight nod even as he feels his chest seize with anxiety. He clenches his hands into fists to stop the shaking, looking over at Captain Vega, praying for a sign that they’re okay.

Then, “Still in one piece,” Owen reports over the radio, and Carlos’s entire body sags. The rest of the team are wearing similarly relieved expressions, exchanging glances and nervous head shakes. Carlos allows himself a moment to breathe before turning back to the scene, his heart in his throat as TK takes the final few steps towards the two boys. 

The rest of the call passes in a blur, Carlos feeling like he’s underwater as he tries to force his body to come down from the anxiety still thrumming through his veins. Pride bursts in his chest when TK saves the boy, but the arrival of the bomb squad sets him on edge again, desperate as he is for TK to be back on safe ground. 

He needs to see he’s okay with his own two eyes, and it’s only the team’s grounding presence at his side that stops him from completely losing it.

It’s an agonising wait, the minutes dragging out painfully, but then -

Then, TK’s walking toward them, an exhausted grin lighting up his face. Carlos stands back as he’s immediately mobbed by the rest of the 126, but their eyes meet over the top of Marjan’s head, and Carlos sees his own relief mirrored back at him. As much as TK can be reckless and as much as he seems to gravitate towards danger, Carlos knows he often gets just as scared as he does, especially now they have this. Especially now that they both have so much to lose.

Judd is the first to step away, following the line of TK’s gaze until he spots Carlos. “Hey, come on now, y’all,” he says gruffly to the others. “Let’s give the kid some space, we ain’t the only ones here for him.”

He punctuates it with a tug on Mateo’s arm, and they all begin to disperse. Judd cocks an eyebrow at him as he walks past.

“What are you waiting for? He’s all yours.”

Carlos nods gratefully, then turns his full attention over to TK, quickly closing the short distance between them to crush him in a hug. TK staggers a little under the force of it, but soon enough he’s hugging back just as tightly, hands fisted in the back of Carlos’s jacket. Carlos drops his head to TK’s shoulder, closing his eyes. 

He’s okay, he realises. This is real. 

TK smiles at him when they separate, though neither of them move too far away. Carlos keeps a hand wrapped around TK’s wrist, his thumb resting on his pulse point. 

“Hi,” TK says.

“Are you okay?” Carlos demands, forgoing any greeting. TK laughs, a little taken aback, but Carlos just… He needs to know. He needs to hear it.

“I’m good,” TK promises. “I swear.”

Carlos nods, breaking eye contact to stare at the field, at the crater that could have ended TK’s life. TK must notice, as he’s suddenly in Carlos’s space again, a gentle hand turning his head towards him.

“Are you okay?” he asks, frowning, and Carlos could laugh.

“Am I? Am I?” He’s aware his voice is bordering on hysterical, but he doesn’t care anymore. He breathes out shakily, scrubbing his free hand down his face. “I’m not the one who just volunteered to walk onto an active fucking minefield, TK!”

He sucks in a breath, clamping his jaw shut before he can say anything else. Carlos can feel the eyes on them and he flushes, staring down at his shoes, trying to blink away the sudden tears. He hadn’t meant to yell, but it had all just been too much all at once, the relief and panic and worry and frustration mixing up inside of him and coming out all wrong.

He shakes his head, preparing to excuse himself, when TK’s arm twists in his grasp, linking their fingers. 

“Come on,” he murmurs, and Carlos lets himself be pulled away somewhere more private. The 126 do a good job of appearing busy as they pass, but Carlos knows they’ll be more curious than they’re letting on, and he burns with shame all over again. TK leads him around the back of the truck, pushing Carlos down on the step and sitting down next to him, their joined hands resting on his thigh.

“I’m sorry -” Carlos starts, but TK cuts him off.

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he says. “You don’t need to apologise for anything. God knows if I’d been where you are, I… I don’t know what I would have done.”

Carlos nods. “It was just… When I saw you out there - when the bomb went off - it was the scariest moment of my life, Ty. And then I find out you volunteered? I mean… Why did you?”

“I had to,” TK says, squeezing his hand. “We were just standing around, arguing over who would go, and that kid didn’t have time to wait for us. I knew I could do it, so I said I would. Is that - Are you mad?”

“Mad?” Carlos looks up, meeting TK’s eyes, and his heart hurts at the worry in them. “Of course I’m not mad. I was worried, and I’m still not convinced you’re not trying to give me a heart attack, but mostly I’m just glad you’re safe. It came out all wrong back there, I’m so -”

TK cuts him off with a kiss, and Carlos all but melts into it, eyes fluttering closed. He rests their foreheads together when they separate, smiling softly.

“I’m so proud of you, you know?” he murmurs.

TK hums. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Carlos pulls away, bumping their shoulders together. “You were amazing out there.”

TK grins, looking down at the ground. “It was pretty cool,” he admits. “Kind of makes me wonder if -”

A loud bang on the side of the truck makes both of them jump. Marjan’s standing there, a smirk on her lips as she looks between the two of them.

“We’re rolling out soon,” she says. “Cap wants you to get checked out by Vega before we leave, so you’d better wrap this up, loverboy.”

TK opens his mouth to argue, but Marjan holds a finger up. “Don’t even bother. Cap’s already been checked over himself, so get your ass over there.”

She leaves with a warning glance, and TK looks apologetically at Carlos as they stand.

“Sorry,” he offers, but Carlos shakes his head.

“No, I get it,” he says. “Just, what were you saying?”

TK bites his lip, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh. I’m not sure. I’ll see you at home?”

Carlos nods, frowning, but before he can get another word in, TK’s kissing him goodbye and leaving, Carlos’s hand trailing after him until he’s forced to let go. A smile plays at his lips as he watches TK interact with the team, but all too soon he’s being called away himself, and he leaves with a quick backward glance.

“You okay?” his partner asks as he slumps into the passenger seat.

He heaves out a sigh. “Yeah. I’m good.”

She raises a dubious eyebrow, but doesn’t comment, starting the ignition. “Buckle up, then,” she says. “I want to get out of here before the firefighters; I hate getting stuck behind their truck.”

Carlos laughs. “Better step on it. They’re all getting in.”

She curses and complies, the car lurching forward as she speeds out of the field. Carlos watches it shrink in the rear view mirror, the remaining heaviness in his heart slowly fading as the scene disappears from sight. He could have lost so much today, but he knows that that’s always going to be a fear for as long as he’s with TK.

Which will be for a very long time indeed, if Carlos has anything to say about it.

[otterskin]

Dumb Details From the Loki Trailer I noticed but then got too serious about

First - apparently it’s not a trailer, so I guess we’ll get ‘Trailer 1′ later? ‘Exclusive Clip’ hardly seems accurate, but hey, I’m not Disney’s marketing division. I wouldn’t live in a shoebox if I was.

Dumb detail no. 1:

Owen Wilson’s jacket is...weird. Look closely.

And another shot:

Yeah...his jacket has a ‘reversed collar’. It’s a cut-out rather than cloth folding on top. Huh. What a strange design choice. What could it mean?

I’ve no idea, but that I watched the trailer enough times to notice this should concern you.

Detail No. 2

In this scene, we see what we can presume to be President Loki’s ‘Throne’. Notice the candy-canes. This is a Santa Claus throne, presumably from some mall Santa. This whole place might be in a mall, judging by the stuff in it.

But the Loki in this shot is not President Loki. Notice that he’s wearing brown pants, a thin brown tie, and the beige shirt he’s seen wearing in other parts of the trailer after he's apparently joined the TVA. President Loki wears black pants, a green vest and a wide green tie with a golden clip that resembles Loki’s little chevron he always has (more on that later).

So it would seem that Loki might meet President Loki here. President Loki might even be addressing him at the end of the trailer. It’s possible that his minions turn on him because there’s two Lokis and they don’t know which is the ‘imposter’. 

Speaking of, there’s a minion with bicycle handlebars grafted to a football helmet here, likely meant to resemble Loki. I dig it. There’s also cans of food scattered among the rubbish here. Makes sense that food production is non-existent since everyone has resorted to wearing license plates and spoons. Love how tattered the whole aesthetic is.

This reminds me of the opening Michael Waldron’s script ‘Worst Guy of All Time’, which featured a similar post-apocalyptic setting after the ‘worst guy’ ruins everything and makes himself king of the ashes. That’s likely what’s happened here, but I hope that Loki isn’t anything like Logan Paul, who was the inspiration for that title character.

Ah, the mysterious female character watching a meteor shower WAY TOO CLOSE UP. But my eyes are drawn to one thing...

What is that oblong object with a shiny handle? Could it be...

A sword? I do love swords. Did you know there’s a bunch of pictures of me in the stock photos for ‘Fencing?’ That’s my cred for loving swords.

I suspect that this female character will be an amalgamation of Amora (shudder) and Sylvie and an alternate Loki of some kind. This sword is currently in her possession, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it or another timeline version of it becomes the Loki Show’s Loki′s weapon. 

Loki has lacked a ‘weapon of his own’ in the MCU for quite some time. I mean, yes, he has his little knives, but they are many and disposable and something he chose for himself, rather than the two legendary weapons wielded by Odin and Thor, Gungnir and Mjolnir. In fact, throughout his appearances, Loki has seemed to want such a thing of his own - he briefly had Gungnir, and then the Gungnir-like scepter, and even tried to lift Mjolnir.

One might ask why Odin would’ve overlooked such an obvious show of favouritism. Why give Thor a storied weapon and leave Loki empty-handed? Heck, even Hela had the Necroblade.

In Thor 1, we might’ve assumed that the Casket of Ancient Winters was perhaps intended one day to be given to Loki, as it is shown with Mjolnir in the Vault and thus connected to it and the children who would inherit it.  But in the comics, Odin did have another weapon of storied history put away for his second son: Gram the Sword.

It was locked for eons by Odin in a special vault which required five keys to be opened, and it was meant to be for Loki if he be worthy.[2] The five keys were infused by Odin with the powers of "journeys", "endurance", "secrets", "new beginnings", and "brotherhood", respectively.[3]

The sword, like everything else in comics, has a complicated history full of take-backs and twists, but let’s just leave it at ‘it’s a representation of Loki’s worthiness and belonging in the trifecta with Odin and Thor as a King of Asgard’. It gives him ‘equality’.

In the original mythology, it’s wielded by Sigurd to kill the dragon Fafnir, and the only relation it has to Loki is that Loki is partially responsible for Fafnir existing in the first place (my username is nod to this myth by the by. Sorry Ottär.) But hey, maybe that means we’re getting a dragon? The Fafnir would be very cool.

Or it could just be a bit of rebar in this mining quarry.

Then again...it appears somewhere else...

It’s easier to see in motion, but that’s a sword swinging on this person’s back.

So the hooded figure is this lady...shall we call her Amylkie? Does that mean she’s the antagonist of this show? Well...maybe, but I suspect the true antagonist is foreshadowed here  -

So, what’s going on here? A young girl (Young Amylkie? Some other TVA prisoner that the guard is watching over? An oracle, A Norn, or a kid who wandered off from the tour group in a basilica somewhere?) She’s giving Mobius M. Mobius a...piece of chocolate. Maybe he saw a Dementor, I dunno. I suspect it’ll be a MacGuffin of some kind later. He looks pretty concerned here, which contrasts with his ‘another day at the office’ blaséness when dealing with Loki. But of course this is the eye-catcher:

So, Norse Mythology. It’s been Christiannized. You can thank Snorri Sturluson for that, but you can google all about him later. Let’s just say that he made many Norse figures into equivalents for Christian ones. Baldur is Jesus, pure and a sacrificial lamb who dies for a greater good. And the devil is...Loki. Something the Marvel comics and the MCU have continued.

Here we have a devil, dressed in green and with a distinct shape on his chest:

Hmmm...wait...I know that weird horny shape...

Ah. I’d say that cinches it. This is meant to be Loki. If you look at the devil’s hair, it also resembles Loki’s, being shoulder-length and black.

So, what’s devil-Loki doing? Laying an egg? Trying out a foot massager? For a second I thought it was a moon, but we see the moon over his left shoulder, amongst the stars. Which means this is - probably the Earth.

...Dammit; I live there.

So Earth is barren and being devoured by flames, likely caused by this Loki sitting atop of it (in a throne, no less). Aw gee, things look pretty bad, don’t they?

But wait - what’s that? Under the Earth (and, possibly, under the earth)?

It’s a plant. A shoot, to be exact.

Back to Ragnarok for a second. Ragnarok isn’t the apocalypse (something we see a lot of in this trailer - all of it seems to be exploring the end of days). Ragnarok is the fire meant to wipe out the old and fertilize the ground for the new. And after the gods have died, what happens? Well, Baldur emerges from Hel, one of the only surviving gods (hmm, seems him dying worked out, didn’t it?). He’s joined by Líf and Lífþrasir, who are the new first man and woman, who’s names mean ‘Life’ and who are pictured, usually, with plants and new life. It is they who are tasked who growing a new Yggdrasil after the destruction of the old. The previous first man and woman are Ask and Embla, meaning Ash Tree and Vine/Elm tree, so there’s a theme there. 

So a new sprout, possibly a tree, growing out of the destruction of the old.

This fits with Loki’s role as understood in mythology. He checks the arrogance of the gods, including when they tried to achieve immortality (sorry, Baldur, nothing personal), and that keeps the gods at their best. After Loki is imprisoned, the gods become weak, unhelpful and foolish, and Yggdrasil starts to rot. Eventually Loki escapes and returns along with Surtur (who also resembles this figure) to burn it all to the ground. This is also referenced in Thor:Ragnarok, with Loki releasing Surtur in the Vault, a place of thematic importance to Loki and one that represents the hidden secrets and sins of Asgard). You could say Ragnarok continued into Infinity War, where Loki played an important part in aiding Thanos’ destruction, giving up the stone to protect his brother and essentially dooming the rest of the universe - but also ultimately leading to its salvation, even if, like Myth Loki, he wasn’t around to see it.

So, we see Amylkie literally start a fire in the trailer -

- in fact, this whole trailer is awash in flame -

It’s fire, fire everywhere and she’s setting them!

It’s possible Amylkie’s our big bad, but I think there’s a chance she’s either a red herring, or, much like how Loki ‘worked’ with Thanos in The Avengers, she is the pawn of a greater foe -

  - a Loki bent on destruction, for some reason or other. The TVA is obviously aware that this is the case, and it seems like they might be trying to ‘fight fire with fire’ by enlisting one Loki to combat another. The villain could be President Loki, since there's evidence of 2 Lokis in that scene - or maybe that's one of many Lokis, and the Big Bad Loki is being played by Hugh Grant as Old Loki. In any case, it would appear that Loki will be coming face-to-face with the worst versions of himself, and many of them. And, if I’m right about this scene:

...Loki will likely eventually discover that even his ‘good’ timeline ended in the destruction of his people and home, plus his own gruesome and torturous death. Although I think the TVA will keep that from him, and just show him the happy parts in an effort to inspire ‘good behaviour’. Until Loki inevitably discovers the rest of how that timeline played out and realize he’s been lied to. I don’t imagine he’ll take that very well...

Damn, even our ‘hero’ Loki is burning stuff down! Does this mean that Loki is doomed, always meant to be an avatar of death and toasty destruction?

Well...let’s go back to that stained glass.

Hmmm...wait...I know that weird horny shape...

And there’s something else...the bottom of the Earth is being lit up, and not by fire. Light appears to be coming off this little plant.

What colour is this plant again? That’s right, green. Green is the colour of new life and growth and change and...hang on, I’ve heard that before, too...

Hang on hang on HANG ON... let me have a look at the shape again.

That’s...a letter. An L? For Loki? Like in the title sequence?

Wait...no, a different letter. An older letter. After all, Loki is old Norse. How do you spell his name in that again?

ᛚᛟᚲ ᛁ -

And ENHANCE on that third letter!

This, my friends, is a Kenaz/Kaunaz, or what would become 'K' in our alphabet. It is also known as the 'Loki Rune' (and the Ulcer Rune, for some reason. I suspect Odin understands why). It’s used to spell his name, but is also used on his own to represent him. Heck, it's even his Superman 'S' in the comics:

Runes are more than letters - they are symbols for concepts. So what else does it mean?

Primarly, it means ‘torch’.

And also ‘knowledge’ (ken). As well as ‘growth, change, the search for truth, decay, arrogance, elitism, feminine, kinship and creativity.’

...Okay, that’s a lot, but you have to admit it fits.

More specifically, it means ‘Mastery of the Fire’. As in, someone who has learned to tame fire so that it is helpful, not harmful. To bring light and, symbolically, knowledge.

There’s another way Loki’s been associated with fire - in the Wagner Ring Cycle, Das Rheingold, the opera that inspired much the Thor films’ aesthetic and certainly their helmets, Loki is called ‘Loge’, which means ‘Fire’. He’s usually dressed to match, too -

Many trickster figures are associated with fire. They are usually called ‘Fire-bringers’ - See: Raven, Lucifer, Prometheus, etc. They are often complex figures with a foot in different worlds, but who nonetheless help mankind with the gift of ‘fire’ - although they usually pay for it, and tend to be self-destructive.

(Side note. Lucifer means light-bringer, which is what luciferase is named after. Because it glows. Which is helpful in labs. In case someone needed to know that.)

Moving from a destructive fire-starter to a fire-bringer seems like a great character arc for Loki to take, especially given his rehabilitation in pop culture, the comics, and even wider culture. Loki has gone from being seen as an evil, deviant, destructive character to one who’s seen as a patron of the arts and creativity, of stories rather than lies. Heck, some scholars of Norse Mythology even posit that he’s the closet thing to a protagonist Norse Mythology has, so I guess that backfired, Snorri!). Being dressed in green and with the sprout clearly also being stylized after his Kaunaz, there’s foreshadowing that he’ll be capable of growing good things even out of ashes.

So, to sum up: Being ‘Satan’ sounds pretty bad, but with a little letter re-arranging like we see in the title sequence, you can be...

...practically a saint. Maybe even a saviour.

Merry Christmas, everybody.

[plaidandwhiskey]

The Lost Wolf

Chapter One: The Pull

Warnings: This story will contain mature content such as gore and violence, alludes to nsfw, as well as mentions of alcohol and weed, some chapters may also contain mentions of abuse 

Word Count: 1.1k 

Christina had never planned to stay in Santa Carla when she left her pack, but the moment her feet hit that boardwalk, she knew deep down she was home. She spent her first night wandering the boardwalk, eventually finding her way into a comic book store. It was quiet, not as busy as the bustling pier just outside its doors, offering a sanctuary for the girl and her overwhelmed senses. 

It was in the comic book store she met Eloise, a blonde who smelled of smoke and a hint of rosemary. The two girls started up a conversation, Christina feeling at ease with her as they talked, the conversation leading to her admitting she needed a place to stay. To her surprise, Eloise offered her the spare room in her apartment, saying she had been looking for a roommate anyway. Christina was definitely surprised by the fact that the other girl had been so ready to welcome a complete stranger into her home. However, her surprise was quickly cured when she entered the apartment. It didn’t take more than a few glances around and sniffs of the air to realize that Eloise was a witch. And when she blurted out her assumption, she learned that Eloise also knew what she was; a werewolf. 

Her first few months in the heart of Santa Carla were spent finishing up her last few months of school and working at the comic book store she had met Elosie in. Her newfound friend had been able to convince the owner’s to give her a job, though it hadn’t been hard since they were stoned almost every moment of the day. No, it was the brothers she had to convince through her first few days working. She was annoyed by the first week with their eyes constantly watching her but for the most part, she enjoyed her job. It was easy and decent pay. As summer crept closer, Christina couldn’t wait to be done with school and left to spend her free time wandering the boardwalk. 

The summer air was hot, even as the sun had set. The only sense of relief for Christina was the ocean breeze that occasionally drifted into the little store through the open doors that welcomed in the crowd that passed by on the boardwalk. The sounds of laughter and music of the various carnival rides filled the air as Christina sat, propped on the stool behind the counter, waiting for the short hand of the clock on the wall to reach the magic number of eight so that she could clock out and head out to join the crowd with the only other girl coworker. It was their nightly ritual, leaving whenever their shifts ended and going out to enjoy the boardwalk and get some food before making their way back to the apartment in the early hours of the summer morning before the sun would eventually rise on the seaside town of Santa Carla. 

When the clock finally reached the anticipated hour, Christina slid off the stool and made her way to the back room, taking her punch card and clocking out. Eloise was right behind her, clocking out after she had. Both girls waved to the brothers, Edgar and Allan, before walking out into the crowd. Christina shoved her hands in the leather jacket she wore, despite the heat, she found comfort in the jacket, using it to cover the long scars that adorned her body that were not shielded by the bikini top she wore and the cut off denim shorts. She walked beside Eloise, though she soon perked up when her nose caught an interesting smell. It was different then anything she had come in contact with while out on the boardwalk. It grasped her senses, her heart beating faster. She was pulled from those thoughts for a moment as she heard a voice whistle and catcall her. 

“Damn, babe, where have you been,” the voice called out, walking up to the brunette and her friend. 

Christina spun around, having always been hot tempered, and clocked him right in the jaw. 

“Hiding from you” 

Her voice came out in almost a growl as she stared up at the male. His hand was pressed against his jaw and he stared at her in shock. Though, unknown to her, it wasn’t from her punching him, it was from the fact that it actually hurt. Eloise grabbed her arm, watching as his friends came over, her eyes seemed to linger on the dark haired one before she glanced at the platinum blonde who had been quick to appear by the other’s side. He seemed to be the leader of the four boys. 

“Come on,” she said in a whisper, pulling Christina away from them. 

“God, can you believe that asshole,” Christina said, though part of her did not agree with her words. Really, it was an attempt to ignore the weird desire to go back to the blonde male. To go back to that intoxicating smell. 

Paul watched as the two girls retreated into the crowd, still stunned as his hand cradled his jaw where the brunette had punched him. Shit, it had hurt, which had surprised him. He was used to being smacked by girls sometimes if he went too far but it never hurt, hell, it never even stung. His usual smile returned to his face, starting to follow after the girls before a hand stopped him. His blue eyes tore themselves from where the girl had disappeared into, facing David. 

“Not tonight,” The leader of their little coven stated simply. 

Paul was not happy with those words, no, in fact a lot of his instincts were telling him to go after her, wanting to smell that wonderful scent again. It had quickly taken over his ever present need to feed. Now he wanted two things, to find her and to feed. But with the hope of seeing her again, he obeyed David and the boys continued on with their night, eventually finding some poor individual to feed off of. 

Back at the cave, the boys quickly noticed Paul’s unusual behavior. He was not his usual reckless self, ready to mess with the others and indulge in Marko’s antics. For once, he was focused and quiet. In half amusement and half curiosity, they watched as he would grab various things from around the cave and walk further back into one of the offshoots of the main cave. After a while of simply just watching him, Marko piped up. 

“Dude, what are you even doing?” he called out to his vampire brother. 

“I don’t know!” 

The confused expression as their brother exclaimed that he had no idea why he was acting like this made the other three laugh. 

“Looks like Paul has found his mate” David said simply, lighting his cigarette.

[abarbaricyalp]

Idk if you are still taking prompts, but you know the vine two dudes chilling in a hot tub 5 feet apart cause they're not gay, and a girl quoting it in a park about two girls in the distance and one of them hearing and going "Actually I am gay" Like that scenario, only involving them fixing the boat? Maybe Sarah quoting it to give Sam shit when she thinks Bucky cant hear and Bucky goes "Wait, no I'm gay" or something, or just the general gist of that. Sorry if this us too specific, I've never sent anyone a prompt before :P

Hello Friend! Thank you so much for sending anything in at all! I know the vine you're talking about, but I couldn't find it on Youtube. (I did find a two day rabbit hole of old compilations though) This was also my first foray into writing Sarah as a fully fleshed character! I was excited to get the practice 'cause I had an idea bouncing around in my head about her and Bucky talking after he wakes up in the Wilson house. I kept her a little more like she had been in my other fics pre-show here. I so wish we got a little more of her!

Feel free, anyone, to send me Sambucky prompts!

The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation

Sarah Wilson loved her brother deeply. The kind of soul crushing love that could only be formed through family, loss, and approximately four thousand brawls around the living room throughout their life. She looked up to her brother more than she could ever imagine looking up to anyone. Even when they were fighting or picking on each other, she couldn’t help but feel a swell in her chest when he came into her line of sight.

That didn’t mean she understood him. In fact, from the age of eight, watching her brother interact with the world had become her go-to pastime. Why did he have to roll every pea around the plate individually before eating them? Why did he and his friends spend seven years socking each other in the arm to prove friendship? Why did he talk to himself in the mirror, even when he knew Sarah or someone else was standing in the doorway?

Sam Wilson was just deeply weird. She had no idea how he had tricked the Avengers, a plethora of bad guys, and half of the media world into thinking he was remotely cool. She saw a news story once that had King T’Challa standing on a platform with Sam and the newscasters talked about how impressive Sam’s suit was. It was unnatural, the effect he had on people.

And in all her years, she never thought she’d see anyone weirder than Sam. But then James Barnes had showed up. It was like a complete reversal of Sam. Sarah was taken in for approximately three hours by his charm and face before she realized he too was deeply, deeply weird.

She justified sitting on the edge of the Paul and Darlene, watching her brother and James Barnes spar off about some dumb trivia fact, by deciding it was an anthropological expedition. The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation. She watched Sam watch Barnes take a long pull off his beer. She watched Barnes kick his feet up near Sam’s legs and then draw them back quickly when a current jolted the boat. She watched Barnes’ fingers tap-tap-tap against the edge of the boat, inching closer to Sam’s shoulder before he chickened out and brought his hand back to his own lap. She watched Sam suggest Bucky take his jacket off, ‘unless you plan on sun blinding me with the robocop arm.’ She watched Sam look away when Barnes did shrug his jacket off.

When she was seventeen and Sam was fifteen, she had found Sam crying in his room, pillow pressed to his face to muffle the noise. They were at the age where going into each other’s rooms uninvited started international conflicts, but Sarah, who watched her brother intently, felt like she knew what was going on. So she let herself in through their Jack-and-Jill bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Sam didn’t stop crying, not even to yell at her to get out, so she sat on the end of his bed and rolled a baseball under her foot for a while. Finally, she’d said, “You don’t have to tell Mom and Dad, y’know.”

Sam had just about wailed and bit the corner of his pillow to stop himself.

“That’s gross, stop it,” Sarah ordered and pushed Sam’s shoulder back enough to yank his pillow free and then reached over to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I should make you do the laundry this week so I know I’m not touching your snot germs,” she teased softly.

“How did you know?” Sam hiccuped out. Tears were still brimming at his eyes, but they didn’t fall.

“I’m your older sister. I made you. Like a doll. You think there’s something about you that I don’t know?” she joked. And when the tears did spill over his long lashes, she sighed and pulled him closer to her side. “I just know the way you interact with that boy from the basketball team ain’t just friendly.”

“Jesus, do you think he can tell?” Sam asked and she could hear the mortification in his voice.

“Sam, he’s a freshman in high school. The only thing he knows is that he’s scared of everything too. No one’s paying that much attention to you.”

“Screw you,” Sam muttered.

“What’re all these tears for you if you didn’t make a move and get shot down?”

“God, Sarah, can you not say things like that?”

“Watch your mouth,” Sarah warned with no heat in her voice. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I’m not leaving until you do.”

“I just…” Sam sat up and worked his jaw for a while. His chin dimpled and his eyes watered but he managed to control himself. “I’m scared, Sarah. I’m scared of never being in love. Of having to leave if I am. I’m scared to say something and I’m scared not to say something. I’m so scared of...losing any of it.”

“Sam,” Sarah sighed and pulled Sam into another hug. “You’re fifteen. You’re not supposed to be in love yet. You don’t have to think about any of that. You just have to focus on passing Geometry, alright? Mom’ll whoop your ass more for failing than anything else.”

“I have a B+, that’s not failing!” Sam snapped. He kept his face against her shoulder for a second long before he sat up and wiped his tears away. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I gonna tell? I told you, my friends don’t like you as much as you think they do.”

“Your friends like me more than they like you,” Sam shot back and he almost sounded normal.

Sarah smiled softly and patted Sam’s cheek. “I won’t tell Mom or Dad. Of course not. That’s for you to do. But--”

“I’m always going to tell them when you sneak out the window.”

“No! Sam! You can’t! You owe me now!”

“Going to field parties is not the same thing!” Sam said in a shriek as Sarah leaned over to pinch his sides. They grappled for a second before Sam managed to push Sarah off the bed.

“You owe me,” she reminded him as she walked back to the bathroom.

Sam wiped his eyes again and nodded. “Sure, Sarah. I do.”

Sam almost had the same look on his face now. Like there was something he wanted to reach for that he thought was too impossible to hold. The Older Sister Instinct to Antagonize into a Solution kicked in.

“Two bros, chilling on a boat, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay,” she sing-songed. Sam looked mortified again but masked his face into something more irritated with a roll of his eyes when Barnes looked over at him.

“Ignore her. It’s this old video--” Sam started.

But Bucky interrupted to say, “Actually I am gay,” as he looked back over at Sarah. “Sorry if I got your hopes up,” he added with a grin that really did get the hopes up.

“What?” Sam asked and Sarah, ever watchful, could see the beer bottle shaking in his hand.

“What?” Bucky repeated innocently.

“He said he’s gay,” Sarah clarified.

“Thank you, Sarah,” Sam ground out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky snorted. “When would I have said anything? ‘Sorry for ripping your wings off and kicking you off of a hellicarrier, by the way I’m gay.’?”

“You did what?” Sarah asked.

“‘Sorry for claiming I didn’t bomb the UN only to be reverted back to the assassin who would have done that and then fighting you again. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Thanks for saving my life. Sorry about the giant undersea prison. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘There’s an imminent battle with weird ass space dogs that want to eat our faces. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Sorry about Tony Stark, whose life I kind of ruined. Lovely funeral. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘I’m in the middle of being pissed at you about the Shield. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Maybe don’t take me rolling through a field of flowers. It does things to me ‘cause I’m gay.’ ‘John Walker’s fucking insane. I’m gay, but definitely not for this bullshit.’ I mean, come on, Sam.”

“Flowers?” Sarah asked.

“Besides, why would you care? I don’t make it a habit of telling straight guys I’m into guys.”

“You don’t seem to make a habit of telling many people that,” Sarah pointed out. “I googled you. Nothing suggesting that came up.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m a guy from the 30s. It was trained out of me.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sarah said quickly. “Back up away from that because we’re not gonna try to Oppression Olympics our way through our histories. Did you just say Sam was straight?”

“Sarah!” Sam hissed.

“Sure. I mean, I saw him with Romanov. Hill. He has Tinder on his phone.”

“Samuel Thomas, you better not,” Sarah warned lightly. “You’re better than that.”

“He’s a lady-killer.”

Sarah snorted and had to bring her hand up to her face. “He definitely is not. There has been no lady-killing on his end for a long time.”

“Sarah!” Sam tried again.

“You explain it to him then. Mr. 30s is gonna need the long way round explanation.”

Sam sighed and dragged his hand over his face. “Dammit. Fine. I’m not straight either, alright? I’m...bi, or something. It’s been a while since I’ve had to think about it.”

“What?” Bucky asked, not unlike Sam had.

“He said he’s bisexual. Interested in both parties. Swings either way. Hit a homerun and then hasn’t really swung since.”

“Sarah, Jesus Christ,” Sam groaned.

“What?” Bucky asked again.

“I was engaged. To a man,” Sam said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asked, clearly missing the irony.

“Oh, it was inconvenient for you but I had plenty of opportunities, huh?” Sam asked. “Ms. Tell-It-All over there wasn’t joking. I haven’t swung any direction in a while. Not since before I met Steve. My fiance died. And then it never came up.”

Bucky blinked at Sam. He kept bringing the bottle halfway up his body and then setting it back on his leg without ever taking a drink. “Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry,” Bucky said, which was not what Sarah was expecting and it clearly wasn’t what Sam was expecting because Sam finally moved closer to Bucky on the bench.

“What for? You didn’t do anything. This time.”

“Yeah, but if I’d known you were into me too, I woulda kissed you in Germany.”

“Oh, I am so not into you,” Sam denied. “And I wouldn’t have our first kiss ruined by immediately running into the government’s roving show monkey.”

“That’s the worst,” Bucky agreed and also finally moved over on the bench until they were pressed thigh to thigh. “Tell me how much you don’t like me again,” he challenged.

“I can’t stand you,” Sam answered and brought his hand up to Bucky’s jaw.

Sarah couldn’t fight down the grin that came to her face and turned to prop her feet on the pier, back to Sam and Bucky. Just this once, she didn’t need to watch her brother to understand him.

Read on AO3 here!

[mayahirsch-a]

TITLE: GROWING PAINS. PLOT: An insight to Maya’s everyday endeavors and how she comes out of them the same person, always. DATE: January 5th, 2022. TRIGGER WARNINGS: sex, sexual themes, nudity, mental health, parental abuse, slightly misogynistic slurs, mentions of misogyny.

The ceiling looked the same but different. There was a new crack as well as all the same ones. Maya traces the ones she knows. The one that looks like a ghost, the one that looked like a misshapen smiley face, and the little blob she named Paul. There’s breathing beside her. Right. There’s a man there.

11:14AM.

“Wow, Maya,” He says, breathless, pulling her blanket over his naked bottom half which makes her face scrunch up as if she’s sucked on a lemon. “You amaze me every time.” Every time. God, was she that easy? At least it was a compliment. She chuckles, “Yeah, thanks.” Maya says on impulse, watching as her “friend” moves to stand up and grab his pants. He was nice-looking, that was for certain. Just her type. Tall, broad, brunette, and a thick beard. He looked like a lumberjack who actually used decent deodorant. At least that much she can respect, right? 

Oh, and he’s Paul. The guy the blob is named after. He’s somewhat of a regular. 

“What’re you doin’ after this?” Paul asks.

“After this? You make it sound like we just kicked a soccer ball around.” Maya replies, laughter weaving through her words. 

“See, that’s what I like about you. Always joking.”

Maya isn’t sure how to take that statement. There’s a part of her that’s thankful she’s being set apart from his other crusades. But then there’s another part of her that feels grossed out by that. She wasn’t a joke, she was a woman. 

“Always the charmer, Paul.” She decides on, forcing a laugh. Maya sits up, pulling her blanket back towards her as Paul puts on his pants. She hates the way he jumps while he does it. He jumps when he pulls the zipper up too which confuses Maya. Did he need to jump to do that? If he didn’t will his stupid little dick get chopped off? The thought almost makes her laugh but she refrains. He scurries around her room then in search for his shirt, then his flannel, then his jacket. Now he really looked like her vision of a lumberjack. Maya pretends, for just a moment, that this was her sweet lumberjack husband and he was about to go out into the yard after a morning of fucking to chop wood for the fire. 

“You’re like, the sexiest bitch alive.” Fantasy ruined. Maya forces another laugh though her brows furrow, so it looks a little like she’s conjuring an evil plan or just uncomfortable. Paul notices this and his face drops a little. Maya feels terrible though she knows she shouldn’t. He did just call her a bitch, but in an endearing way. Right? She tries to think of it that way but only not to hurt poor Paul’s feelings. Because the last thing she wanted to do was start her day off by upsetting a man. 

“Thanks, that’s sweet.” Maya replies and Paul’s smile finally returns. There’s a strange heavy feeling in her stomach. 

“Alright, I’m gonna head out. I’ll see you, alright? Thanks for this. You’re such a good friend.”

Friend. Oh, God. She was always the friend. The good, giving friend.

Maya nods, her lips pursed in another forced expression, “Sure, yeah. Thanks. See ya.” She mumbles and Paul heads out of the bedroom. Maya waits in her spot for the sound of the door opening and closing. And when she hears it, she’s quick to groan, sinking back into her bed that now smelled like Old Spice and socks. She stands, still naked, gathering her pajamas from the evening before up from the ground and throwing them on. Those too smell a little like socks and sweat but she doesn’t mind it. This was her stench, not Paul’s. So, she tears her sheets off and throws them into a pile near the corner of her room. She’ll wash them later before bed. 

She pads around her room, gathering things that she needed to clean or just toss. The brunette shimmies over to her phone, plugging it into the little speaker she has settled on her nightstand. She picks Forever & Always by Taylor Swift, obviously, and begins to gallop around her room and dance poorly. Maya grabs piles of laundry in her arms and sings along, skipping her way to the little at-home laundry machine she bought from Amazon. It can’t fit too much but it was good enough. She’ll wash a couple pairs of underwear and maybe a sweater to wear for work tomorrow then worry about the rest after. 

“‘CAUSE I WAS THERE WHEN YOU SAID FOREVER AND ALWAYS!” Maya sings with her entire chest, pouring laundry detergent into the machine. The dancing continues, Maya whipping her head around in the kitchen. Then, the jumping starts, and Maya starts to jump all around her apartment to her favorite songs. This was her exercise for the day and it was a daily occurrence, really.

3:26PM.

Her laptop is on the ground. Since her dance break, she’s been working and folding her now clean clothes ever since. But, a hitch, her mother calls. The encounter starts the way it usually did. Teresa Hirsch asks how her daughter was doing and attempts to sympathize with her situation because Maya, her daughter, makes the stupid mistake of opening up.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just feeling lonely. Or, I don’t know, not lonely. Just bored, I guess. Maybe I need to explore the city more.”

“You’re bored because you don’t have a job, Maya.”

“I do have a job, mom. You know I write.”

“Yeah, you write. But that’s not a job. You’re not out hounding politicians or reporting on a new crisis in the country. You’re writing about shit you made up.”

And here we go.

“It’s not shit I made up. I write about what I’ve been through and how I feel. A lot of people do that, you know.”

“You haven’t been through shit, Maya, please. I’m starting to get aggravated now. That article was bullshit and lies. You know me and your father still get asked about it? I know your father’s an asshole but that’s not anyone’s fucking business.”

“We all went through a lot together, mom.” Maya replies, knowing she’ll now have to weather the storm of her mother’s hurt feelings. This was a common theme. Maya was always mothering her mother and fathering her father. She was a parent without children.

“You’ll never know how much I went through. I had four kids to take care of and I had no fucking choice. You have choices. And you never understood that and you were a fucking brat.”

Maya can feel her hands shake so she removes her phone from where it’s pressed to her ear, setting it down on the coffee table. The funny thing about being on the phone with Teresa was that she was so loud that you didn’t have to put it on speaker. You just had to leave it and listen, if you dared. 

“You were always ungrateful, Maya. You fucking kids should’ve been happy that you had a place to sleep and food to eat, do you understand me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.” She replies nonchalantly and without a care. Maya’s heard it all before and she’ll hear it until the day she leaves this planet. She begins to sweat, sorrow and anger taking over. And her mother was still going, ranting on and on about how Maya was a terrible daughter and a bitch. 

This goes on for a couple minutes before Maya explodes, her face and body red under the pressure of her growing anger. “No, no, you were the fucking bitch! I was a fucking kid, you fucking stupid cunt! Yeah, yeah, keep going, you stupid old bitch. Fuck you. Fuck you!” Maya screams into her phone before hanging up. She’s sure her mom will keep calling to continue the fight but Maya won’t pick up. By the end of the call, she could hear her father in the back getting worked up too, because they always had to team up at some point. It was an endless cycle.

The next few minutes are spent sitting on the ground beside her laptop, coming down from the argument. Tears eventually swell up in her eyes and Maya doesn’t fight them. She lets them fall down her tired, reddened face. Soon enough, the sobs begin, and her head falls onto her knees that press into her chest, her entire body curling up. Maya thinks to call Harlan or Melissa or maybe even Anthony but doesn’t. She didn’t want to bother her siblings with stories of their mother because they’ve heard it all before. They’ve been through the same damn thing. Maya was just the only one stupid enough to keep calling, to keep pressing for a relationship with the people who have hurt her the most. 

When the crying stops, Maya plucks herself up from the floor along with her laptop and moves into her bedroom. Her laptop is tossed onto her bed which was still stripped bare. Fuck, she forgot to wash her bedding. Her head whips around, finding the sad pile still shoved into the corner of the room. 

“Fuck my stupid fucking life.” The woman mutters under her breath dramatically, fighting the urge to throw a tantrum the way a small child would. Somehow, she holds back, and instead crawls onto her bare mattress and lies there for a while. She thinks to get naked, to go back to a primal state in order to feel more in tune with the world again. Because now she’s been flung into space and all she could do was watch her body from a far distance.

10:02PM.

Maya wakes up drenched in sweat and with a bad taste in her mouth. She had work tomorrow and she was waking up in the dead of night, alone, and unwashed. She turns to her window on the right, the night sky bringing her no comfort. There were no stars in sight, just buildings and other windows that she couldn’t see into even though she wishes she could. A groan sounds from her as she moves to stand, all her limbs cracking as she does so. That almost makes her laugh but she couldn’t find it in her to even chuckle a little. Usually she’d make some joke to herself about how she’s getting old. All grown up but not at all. 

This time, she does strip naked, and Maya makes her way into the bathroom, turning the shower on. She holds out her hand, waiting for the water to run warm. Once it does she steps inside and allows the water fall over her face and down her body. She’ll proceed to clean herself of all the things that trouble her. Paul, sex, being the friend, the art of never being the one, her mother, her father, and all the desires in her that she may never fulfil due to not feeling well enough or there yet.

Really, her body was aging, but her brain was not. But tomorrow was a new day.