#having one half of our pair confirmed to be into guys seems like a good thing?

[seddair]

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[reiderwriter]

Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You🃏

Chapter 1 of That's What You Get

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise one of those sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs. Reid.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, loss of memory, marriage (yeah that needs a warning), mommy issues, mentions of emotional abuse, implied sex scene, use of handcuffs in a sexual way, they theorize a possible creampie but I will neither confirm nor deny at this point, talk of contraception, no actual smut though, you guys are gonna have to wait for that. 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: The first chapter is here! Sorry for drawing you in with a silly little premise and then giving you mommy issues, I swear that after this chapter it's not bought up all that much. If you enjoy this chapter, you can sign up to the series taglist here, check out my masterlist and if you want leave a request! :D have fun reading!! ✨

Las Vegas, city of sin and entertainment capital of the world. Population approximately 600,000, home to the most famous casinos in the world, and unluckily for you, your latest unsub.

You’d been in Vegas for three weeks trying to hunt down this specific murderer, but now the case was all wrapped up and you could finally breathe, the weight of the stress you’d been carrying for almost a month now dissolving as you finally finished up the paperwork in the local precinct.

“Thank god that’s over. I cannot wait to be in bed with a good book and an empty head,” you groaned as you met the eyes of Penelope Garcia, your favorite tech analyst in the entire world and absolutely the only one you knew. She’d ended up having to join you on this case because some of the crime scenes just happened to be casinos that weren’t so happy sharing their data, but also didn’t want to be lumped with the warrant from the FBI. She’d been working between their offices and the precinct, and looked just as haggard as you felt.

“Oh, I feel you sister, this free travel experience thing is nice, but I would like to be back at my own perfect little desk hovel ASAP, thank you very much.” The two of you shared a small laugh, and then began collecting your stuff.

“Come on now, baby girl, you’re telling me that you don’t want to hit up the strip while we’re here? See the sights a little?”

“Sweet cheeks, I have been working from the most harrowing of surveillance units all week on that very strip. I have already seen the sights and they were not pretty, and definitely not worth using up my precious vacation time for.”

“Unfortunately Garcia, I don’t think you’ll be needing to use any of that vacation time to stay here,” Hotch announced as he walked in, and every member of your team snapped to attention to hear what he had to say. “I just got off the phone with Quantico, there’s a storm cloud moving in directly in our flight path and we haven’t been cleared for take off. They’re extending our stay by another day.”

“Shit,” you let out a silent curse, and noticed that your other team members didn’t seem all that happy about it either. JJ quickly excused herself from the room to call Will, Garcia let out a faux sob and fell back into her chair, and Rossi had the look of abject Italian disappointment on his face that he usually only got when you talked about your love of pineapple on pizza.

“How’s about that drink now, baby girl?” Derek Morgan teased, but it was half-hearted and you knew it. You were all desperate for bed, and you could only imagine the mistakes you would make if you went drinking now after the month you’d all just survived.

The only member of the team who didn’t seem put out quite yet was Reid, but you chalked that up to the fact that this place was his hometown.

“If you guys do change your mind, I know a bar downtown where you’re 34% less likely to be propositioned, robbed or over-charged.” He smiled over at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle knowing the man was 100% serious.

“Dare I ask how you found that statistic, Reid?” Emily inquired from the other corner.

“One part actually reading the annual crime report, one part personal experience?” Reid replied, and you laughed again, unable to hold it back.

“Count me out, thank you,” you replied, and you could have sworn for a second you saw a flash of disappointment flash over his features, but you didn’t get the chance to question it, because a call was lighting up your phone screen.

You quickly excused yourself and moved to pick up the call from your mother.

“Mom, hey, what’s up?”

“What, I can’t check in on my daughter now for no reason?” you sighed and rubbed your temples, knowing exactly how this phone call was going to go, because it was how the last ten calls home had.

“Yes, mom, of course you can. How are you?”

“Terrible. Cindy’s daughter is getting married, and it’s all she’s talking about now. Can you believe it? The girl was absolutely wild when you were friends with her in high school and now she’s settling down with a lawyer of all people. Someone should warn that young man before he realises what he’s got himself into,” she scoffed on the other end of the line and you did your best to not get worked up. If you got angry it only made her more self-richeous.

“I know, Mom, Jessica sent me an invite, and I’m sure Trevor knows exactly what he’s getting into since they’ve been dating since high school.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never tell me anything.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m in the middle of a case right now, can I call you back later?” You did your best to escape the conversation before it devolved into something you really didn’t want to talk about, like yourself, and more specifically your love life. But the gorgon had you frozen through the line and you weren’t about to make the mistake of hanging up on her.

“I’m sure your boss could spare you for five minutes, over-working you like he does. You haven’t had the time off to come and visit me since you got that fancy little job of yours, so you can do me this favor at least.”

“Sure, mom.” At times like this, you knew it was best to just let her talk and ride out the wave.

“And I’m sure you don’t even have time to date. Are you taking care of yourself, at least? Making sure you’re at least presentable, I hope? Its like I always say, you could meet your future husband in one of those precincts, you know. Get a big, strong man to take care of you.”

You had to resist the urge to throw your phone. You’d explained to your mother time and time again that you were perfectly content being the big, strong man for yourself, but there was absolutely no getting through to her. You received one of these phone calls everytime one of her friends or coworkers kids announced an engagement, got pregnant or bought a house, three things that she was desperate for you to do, as well. As soon as you saw the instagram post from Jessica you’d been counting down the days, almost thankful for your mothers lack of online presence.

“A crime scene isn’t exactly the most charming of meet cutes, Mom.”

“Well, then what about Virginia? There are some fine men working at the FBI surely. What about that one coworker of yours, what was his name?” Your heart-race increased for a moment, praying she wasn’t about to put a thought in your head that you wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Derek Morgan, was it? Now, that’s a fine young man.” This time you couldn’t stop the startled cry that came from your mouth. Sure, Morgan was an incredibly attractive man, but he’d joked around with you like a brother ever since you’d taken down your first unsub with the team. Your team was your family and your support system on the road, and they had your back on the case, so really, had your mother said anything, you’d have responded with incredulous guffawing. Hotch was like your dad, Rossi a fun Great-Uncle or something. You saw the sister’s you’d never had in JJ and Emily and of course Garcia was your best friend and you shared so many likes and dislikes that you regularly joked about being long-lost twins separated at birth. And Reid was Reid.

“Just give dating some thought, would you at least? The clock is ticking for you, you know.”

“Mom, I’m not even thirty yet. I’m in no rush.”

“That's what your Aunt Linda said, and look at her.” Your Aunt Linda was a perfectly content single woman in her late forties who had a high paying executive job, in NYC of all places, so yeah, you were in no rush at all.

“Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go, Hotch is calling me into the office to talk about some case files. I’ll speak to you later?”

“God, it’s like you don’t even want to talk to your mother for even five minutes. Go on, then, go do your big fancy job. Call me soon.”

“Yeah, Mom, I will.” And with that you finally hung up. Running a hand through your hair you paused for a breath for a second, closing your eyes and letting your hand just grip your hair for a second before releasing your breath for a second.

In the grand scheme of things, you knew that your mom wasn’t all that much to complain about. You and Emily had bonded over your respective mommy issues early in your time on the team, and you knew a lot of the other team members were either lacking some family member or the other, so you were just thankful that she was still around to annoy you, but god did she make it difficult sometimes.

Realising that any second, you’d have one profiler or the other come find you and ask you (with the best of intentions) what was wrong, you plastered a smile on your face and walked back into the office. You didn’t exactly want to relive that call anytime soon.

“Back so soon, Y/N? I thought that was your mom,” Morgan questioned you when you stepped back in.

“Yeah it was. One of my friends from highschool is getting married and you know how she loves to gossip.” You’d learnt early in the profession that you were in that the best way to hide something was to tell the truth about it for as long as you could, and then change the subject.

“Hey, Reid, you still up for a drink at that bar?” You looked hopefully at the man in the corner, and prayed noone would bring up your absolute change in attitude. “I was thinking a glass of wine or two after a successfully closed case couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Yeah, sure. You wanna head back to the hotel first and change, or do you want to go from here? Hotch said we’re free now until 2pm tomorrow.” You could see a questioning look from Morgan to your left, but you kept your vision focused on Reid, quietly thankful for the rest of the teams disinterest.

“Give me five to drop off my badge and gun in my room and freshen up a bit and we can be on our way. If this bar is bad though, Reid, you know I’m never letting you hear the end of it, right?”

“I ran the statistics, there’s only a 14% chance you’ll dislike it.”

“You know what’s scary is, I can’t even tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

–x–

Sarcasm or no, you had to admit, the bar he’d taken you to was pretty nice. It was a low-lit bar only a twenty minute taxi ride from your hotel and whilst it wasn’t exactly on the strip, it wasn’t so far out to be inconvenient. The best part about it was that it was lined with bookshelves, and each booth was blocked off by another, making it feel more like a library than a watering hole. You almost forgot you were in Vegas when you stepped in.

“Yeah, this is definitely a Spencer Reid place,” you said as you took the final swig of your wine, the glass you’d ordered on arrival having gone down easier than you’d expected.

“How so?” Spencer said as he returned to your table, carrying the replacement drinks he’d gone to order with him.

“Come on, Spencer. I’ve never seen the inside of your apartment but I’m sure it’s just this place with less furniture and more books.”

“Y/L/N, are you profiling me right now? Because that sounds pretty close to profiling?” Spencer teased and you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing your next drink from him and giving it a stir - the wine was good but at the price per glass you’d decided maybe cocktails were the thing for tonight.

“Besides, you did mention wanting to curl up with a book tonight, so I thought this bar was probably a good fit for you too.”

“Whose profiling who now, Doctor?” It was his turn to roll his eyes, and he took a sip of his drink. You knew he didn’t drink that often, but he seemed pretty open to the idea tonight, and you were absolutely glad for the company.

“Okay, I won’t profile if you don’t, but do you mind me asking you a question, Y/N?”

“Fire away,” you were playing with the stirrer in your cocktail, waiting for him to ask the question but he’d hesitated for a moment before speaking again, causing you to look up directly into his eyes.

“What’s going on with you and your mom? I don’t mean to pry and I didn’t overhear any of your call earlier or anything, but when you came in again you were all tense and you had that strained smile on your face. Then you suddenly changed your mind and decided we should get drinks so, I’m just guessing here, but you could probably do with talking about it, right?”

You let out a groan and let your head hang a bit. Yeah, you were starting to regret taking that role in the team of profilers. But at least Reid was sincere, and you knew his intentions were good. Of all the members of the team, you’d probably have described him as the safest. It was strange to think, considering all the comfort you found in your other friends, but there was just something so reassuring about Reid’s presence, the way most people overlooked him at first, how he could easily fall into his work and how you could see the cogs moving in his head as he made one genius leap to another that just made you think that everything was going to be okay if he was there.

So because it was him, you decided to talk.

“She’s just…She’s just a little much sometimes, you know?” He smiled back a knowing smile, but didn’t try to add anything and encouraged you to keep going.

“She’s been really persistent recently in bothering me about hitting some of lifes big milestones - marriage, kids, you know? And it always leaves me in a panic because though I’m pretty sure I want those things just yet, I don’t want the pressure of having them yet.” You swallowed the bile in your thoat and continued

“Everytime she says something, I feel bad that I don’t have them. And the way she talks about them its like they’re some kind of… of personal failure, that I’m not trying hard enough to catch a man or something, and I just wonder what if she’s right?” You start slow but you feel yourself gaining pace as you begin rambling, by the end you’re left wondering if Reid even caught any of that.

“I’m perfectly content living alone, but what if I’m secretly not, and I end up forty and alone and can’t even get a guy to look at me.”

“I can pretty confidently say that that’s not going to happen, Y/N.” Reid replied when you finally grabbed your drink ready to take another sip.

“How come?”

“You won’t have to put any effort into catching a man, Y/N.” Reid replied.

“You’re saying that because you’re my friend and you care about me Reid, of course you think that.”

“No, I’m saying that as an FBI Profiler that’s noticed the barman, the man on a date in the corner and the group of guys smoking outside the door eye you up since we’ve been here. And considering we’ve been doing paperwork all day, and the only change in your appearance since 8am this morning was the fresh coat of chapstick you put on while we were in the taxi, I’d think you hadn’t really put that much thought into what you look like right now.”

“You’re exaggerating,” and you really believe that, until you turn to look at the guy on the date and see him avert his gaze from you quickly, and you realise there might be something in what he’s saying.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t mean that I need or want to hear those things from my mother.”

“Y/N, take it from me, mother’s can be complicated.”

“God, I feel so stupid talking to you about something so trivial with my mom, I shouldn’t be doing that, we’re here to have fun.”

“Y/N, its okay. I can do the mommy issues talks, I’m perfectly qualified, but…” he trails off and grabs his drink for another sip and you find yourself hanging off his words begging for him to bring you more comfort and spoken caresses.

“But what, Reid?” you finally ask, as you realise he’s dragging this out on purpose to tease you a little.

“But how about a distraction instead? Have you ever been in a Las Vegas casino with a man that is banned from gambling in most of them?” He wiggled his eyebrows a little as he asked that and you giggled again, grateful for the reprieve from the serious talk.

“That doesn’t sound all that fun, Spencer.”

“Oh yeah, it’s not, but we could always use those vouchers we got as a token of appreciation earlier in the bars and drink some pretty fancy alcohol?”

“Spencer Reid, you are finally speaking my language.”

“I’m still speaking English Y/N, but if you wanted me to switch to russian or some other language, I could accommodate that depending on your linguistic preference.”

“It was a joke, Spence, now let’s get out of here.”

With that, he stood and dramatically offered you his hand like a gentleman, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow when you took it and guiding you swiftly out of the sweet bar. You were with Spencer, your safe friend, close work colleague and probably the least likely member of the BAU Team to get into trouble in a bar in Vegas. What’s the worst that could happen? You thought, as you took a final step out into the humid night air of Las Vegas.

–X–

The first thing you noticed in the morning was the pounding in your head, and it was pretty much the only thing you noticed for quite some time. When you managed to finally unglue your eyes, the second thing you noticed that this definitely wasn’t your room. The third thing you noticed was the gaping hole in your memories that explained how you possibly could’ve ended up wherever it was that you were. Or really any memories from the night before at all.

Letting out a quick groan you sit up in bed and take stock of your surroundings. Although the layout is different, you quickly recognise the interior matches the hotel you’ve been staying at, so you’re thankful that you’re at least somewhere relatively safe, and most likely in familiar company. The room looks to be neat on the whole, but there’s obvious signs of a drunken escapade strewn everwhere - two champagne flutes and a drained bottle, the contents of your purse spilt onto the chair in the corner, some random balloons in the corner you must have picked up somewhere in a drunken stupor, your clothes discarded in a trail to the bed.

That last one wakes you up a little bit more, and almost embarrassingly, you look down at yourself and see your lack of clothing, pulling the covers of the quilt closer to you as you feel yourself flush.

Fuck.

There’s a shifting in the bed next to you, and you look down in horror to see exactly which member of your team got you so plastered last night. You try to move to see who it is, but theres a tightness around your wrist and you’re pulled right back down into bed. You look down at your arm, and that’s when you realise you’re really screwed.

There, around your wrist and restraining you against the bed, is a set of handcuffs. FBI standard. The insinuation flames your face as you whip around to see which close friend and coworker you maybe - possibly - hooked up with last night, too embarrassed to look at your hand any more.

Luckily, your mystery man shifts again, and you catch sight of the nest of brown curls right before he turns over to see you, so when you finally meet the eye of Doctor Spencer Reid, you don’t scream in surprise.

“Y/N? What are you doi-” he cuts himself off as he lets his eyes trail down your body, quickly noticing your state of undress and pulling himself up into a seated position. He is similarly disrobed and it takes all of your strength to pull your gaze away from his bare chest to look literally anywhere else, your face practically flaming now.

“Spencer, would you mind helping me out over here?” you manage to squeak out quickly, as he does his best to avoid your eyes. “I seem to be a little stuck?”

That draws his attention back to you, and he finally notices the strange position of your arms and the handcuffs keeping you pinned to that spot in the bed.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, fuck,” he quickly pulls on the pants he discarded by his side of the bed and scrambles over to you, tripping over once in his haste.

“Do you know where the key is?” you ask as he arrives at your side again, your free hand clutching the sheets over your breasts like your life depended on it.

“If that’s my pair they should be in the safe in the nightstand with my creds, give me a second to look.” After a second, he reaches the aforementioned safe box, pulling it open. He roots around inside it for a few seconds and then he spots something ad you watch the blood drain from his face.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you spit out quickly, tongue still heavy, and lips probably still swollen, from the night before, so you trip over the words a little. He pulls out the keys from the draw, and you let out a sigh of relief, but you’re still tense as he reaches back inside the draw and pulls out something else.

“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, still staring intently at whatever else is in his hands. You try to angle your head to look, but between the restraints and the fact that Reid had turned his back to you couldn’t quite see what it was.

“What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.

Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.

“I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.

“Y/N I think we got married last night.”

For a second you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. This was not happening, not to you, not right now. How stupidly drunk could you have gotten to have actually gone and married someone you weren’t even dating. And considering your current lack of clothing, it was dawning on you that you had probably done a little bit more than what was in that photo.

“Spencer unlock these handcuffs right now, so help me God,” you breathed deep and screwed your eyes shut, hoping that wihtout the distraction of the glaring lights you’d be able to remember some of what you’d done last night, but nothing came to you.

Reid, for what it was worth, got you unlocked quickly. You winced slightly as you pulled your arm away from the position it’d been in for however many hours.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have undone those last night, I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m usually pretty good at remembering stuff like that.” Reid rambled, running a hand through his hair and pacing slightly at your side of the bed. You pushed yourself up and watched him for a minute, just looking at this man who was now, probably, your husband.

Your husband.

You shook the thought from your head and cut his rambling off quickly.

“You put me in these?” you asked, just desperate for any clarification on any of the events of the last 24 hours, not fully grasping the implications of what you were asking until Reid was looking down at you with a flushed face and a mouth gaping like a fish, struggling to find the words to say.

“This is my hotel room. Those are my handcuffs… I kind of just assumed…” he trailed off the thought and you were right with him, the embarrassment heating your face just as much as it had his. You found it hard to meet his eyes the, and dropped yours to your lap.

“So you don’t remember, either?” You almost sighed in relief at that. If even a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory was in this state after a night of drinking, then you really couldn’t be blamed for getting so drunk you married your coworker and most likely had some pretty kinky sex with him, remembering absolutely nothing on top of that at all.

“Do you need me to grab you something to wear?” he asked as he looked down at you, letting his gaze trail probably a little bit too low for a little bit too long. You grew heated under his stare, as your body reacted, and you realised how easy it must have been to fall underneath him last night if this was how you were feeling from just one look.

But you pulled yourself out of those thoughts quickly, and it seemed that so did he, as he began grabbing clothes from the floor and handing them to you, turning away as you started getting yourself into a semi-decent state.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you heard Reid mumble to himself as he made his way around the side of the bed, and in your concern for him, you called out.

“Anything specific those curses were for, Spence? Because I know this isn’t exactly the most ideal situation, but four Spencer Reid swears in a row is a cause for concern.” You tried to joke, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety of your predicament.

“I can’t find…” he started and then dragged a hand over his face, trying to wipe the exhaustion from his eyes. “Y/N, I think we didn’t use protection.” You could see him panicking now, and for a second you thought of joining him too, but you crossed the room and grabbed his arms.

“Spencer, look at me, it’s fine. If we did end up… doing that, I’m on birth control, and we probably have time to grab something extra just to make sure, right?” he looked down at you then and after a moments hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m so stupid for suggesting we go to that casino bar last night, I don’t know what I was thinking. You even said last night that this wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, right now, god I’m an idiot, you don’t deserve this.” He buried his face in your neck and held you tight, and you pulled yours up to his back, rubbing circles into his skin slowly.

“Spencer, listen to me. I can think of noone I would have rather had a shotgun Vegas marriage with, okay? This isn’t your fault, we were both drunk, and I’m sure a Reid who was thinking straight could give me some kind of statistic about inhibitions dropping with a certain amount of alcohol.”

“A study in the United Kingdom found that there was an increase of risky sexual behavior in young people who had participated in binge drinking, including unprotected sex with a new partner and the use of emergency contraceptives and I’m not sure why I’m still talking when that was probably rhetorical, right?” You smiled at his panic, finding him just as endearing as ever, even in this predicament.

“What I’m saying, Spencer, is that we’re going to be okay. This isn’t the first time someone has gotten married in Vegas on a whim. Hell, this isn’t even the first time it’s happened to someone on our team. In a sense, this was a very traditional wedding.”

He groaned into your neck again and you laughed up at him. Sure, you were panicked still, but just having him in your arms there sharing his honest feelings with you instead of bottling it up and leaving you to deal with it on your own in your head too was doing you a world of good, and you found the words you used to reassure him soothing you, too, in turn.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. One, find the nearest pharmacy. Two, find whatever Elvis-inspired love shack wrote that marriage license and figure out if it’s actually legally binding. Three, avoid all of our coworkers until 2pm. How does that sound?”

Reid pulled himself out of your neck then, and you were almost sad at the loss of that warmth near you.

“It sounds like I made the smartest choice of a wife I was ever going to make,” he smiled down at you.

“Oh you got jokes now, Doc? I see.”

“Thought I should let you know all my deep dark secrets now we’re married.” You shared a laugh, and standing there amongst the debris of the night before, despite all the mistakes, you knew you were safe, and that the two of you would always be safe together.

🏷️ @sailortongue @bethanyhaas01 @reidscaffeine @high-functioning-cosplayer @average-sunflower @multifandom-on-the-side @anniewhalelover @prentissesredtanktop @abbyshmaby @academiareid @hugyourlungs @w-windy @babybluecakes @SwaggySagieWagie@reidandhotchsgirl @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @Zaapsite @daddy-dotcom @bluecandycake

[luvrxbunny]

hot pink

Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Prompt: Pegging

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, tiny bit of addiction talk, reader doesn’t cum (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.5k

A/N: this is so long omg i hope u guys like it <3 (not proofread) and i know basically nothing about pegging except that its hot so if anything is explained in-correctly just shhh and pretend pls

“So you just let her…” Steve trails off, too stunned to finish his sentence. Eddie is red from laughter and a twinge of embarrassment at Steve’s reaction. “Yes, but Steve-” He cuts himself off with another laugh as Steve’s eyes widen comically at Eddie’s confirmation. “You have to just try it, man.” Steve’s already shaking his head as he takes a sip of his beer, trying to think it over but unable to see a scenario in which he’d enjoy himself.

“Look, Eddie.” He chuckles a bit. “Some guys are into that and-” Eddie cuts him off with a groan. “No, Harrington, you’re not getting me. I didn’t want to! She convinced me and promised that we could do whatever I wanted if I didn’t like it.” He pauses for a bit for dramatic effect. “But I fuckin’ loved it.” Steve breathes out a surprised sigh at Eddie’s words. “It feels weird at first, sure, but once she finds this spot. She says it’s my prostate-” He scoots closer to Steve to explain. “So apparently you know how she has a G-Spot? Your girl?” He waits for Steve to nod at him. 

“Yeah, I know.” Steve’s face is bright red, embarrassed at this entire conversation. “Okay, yeah, it’s like we have one of those but it’s in our ass. So I’m kinda like… Does that mean we’re supposed to have something up our asses?” He raises his hands in defense when Steve turns to him with a disbelieving stare. “I’m just saying! Like- why is it there? If not to be played with? I don’t know, man, seems weird.” Eddie’s half-joking now, saying these things mostly to get a rise out of Steve, amused by how red his face gets. “Whatever. Just like- don’t knock it ‘til you try it, y’know?” Steve nods silently at Eddie and the conversation moves on, they light up another joint and talk about where Eddie’s next gig is supposed to be. Steve’s mind, however, never moves on. 

You’ve had this thought too. Eddie’s girlfriend, Bunny, had gifted you a strap-on about six months ago after convincing Eddie to let her peg him. She says it’s almost better than sex, despite the large drop in stimulation she's receiving. You thought she was crazy when she gave you the hot pink strap, you tried to give it back immediately, without even fully understanding what it was for. She and Eddie are just so much more- aggressive than you and Steve. The pair always has some new sex story to share with you two and you’ve never found any of them appealing, until she told you that one. 

“No- he was so cute too! He was face down on the bed- I know.” She giggles in agreement when your eyes widen with your smile. “And he wouldn’t shut up! He was whining almost the whole time, his hands were like- ugh he’s so cute. He was like trying to reach back for me the whole time!” You try not to show how her story was heating your body up as she squeals about Eddie. You’re imagining Steve in his place and the thought- although it’s one you’ve never had before- becomes the main thing on your mind. It just got worse over the six months of you keeping it a secret. You didn’t want to over-share, unsure if Eddie was okay with the fact that she told you, and not wanting to scare Steve off. The kinkiest thing the two of you have done is have sex in a changing room, you haven’t even brought toys into the bedroom yet so how are you supposed to ask him if you can stick a silicone rod up his ass? You can’t. So the strap collected dust at the top of your closet. 

Steve comes home almost drunk, tipsy enough that Wayne had to drive him home and he stinks of weed, letting you know he had a good night with Eddie. He can stand on his own, not swaying or anything but he has this delirious smile on his face and a cloudiness over his eyes that tells you he’s intoxicated. He opens his arms for you the moment you open the door and buries you in a hug. You wave behind him aimlessly, hoping Wayne is in the driveway and can see your appreciation. He walks you inside, your face still buried in his chest and your hands wrapped around his waist. “Missed you s’much, honeybun.” 

You snort at the nickname and pull away from him, eyes closing in relaxation when he presses a wet, loving kiss to your forehead. “Oh-” He sees his slobber on your forehead and blushes with an adorably embarrassed smile as he pulls his sleeve to his palm and rubs his spit off your head. “Sorry, darling. That’s so na-” You cut him off with a giggle, crush him into another hug, and lean up onto your tip-toes to kiss him properly. He exhales a sigh of relief, of contentedness as your lips cover his before you pull away. “I missed you too, baby.” He beams like a little boy at your statement, his chest filling with love for you. “Good.” 

You both giggle your way to his room and he changes as you sit on his bed, watching him. He sobers up a bit in the process, needing his brain power since you’re not helping him. He fumbles with his button-up pajama shirt and looks over at you pathetically. He could do it himself if he really tried but he has fat, dumb fingers, while yours are cute and dainty, so he’d rather just ask you for help. You smile at him knowingly and slowly walk over to him, reaching your hands out to button his shirt while he holds your eye contact. “Soo.. How was your time with Eddie?” You ask gently, finally breaking the silence. 

He thinks through the hangout again, trying to decide which part he wants to tell you first but then the memory of a certain conversation smacks into his mind. You can see he’s remembered something big by the sharp inhale he takes, he also straightens his shoulders, fixing his posture a bit as red leaks into his face. “What?” You ask with a giggle, surprised at his reaction and unable to think of what would even make him react this way. He stops your hands on his buttons and that brings your eyes to his, seeing their fear. You pull away from his shirt, a bit scared at his intensity. His eyes flicker to the bed for a moment. “Do you wanna sit?”

You nod silently but now your mind is running wild with thoughts. 

Eddie got him to do crack. Now he’s addicted. Fuck. No- No, Eddie probably ordered a hooker or something and cheated on Bunny! Or he ordered the hooker for Steve… And he cheated… No. He would never. So..? Oh my god. It’s meth. Steve’s addicted to meth. 

Steve sits silently beside you, his hands wringing each other nervously, only worsening your thoughts. He takes a breath to say something but loses his nerve.

What if she thinks it’s too weird? What if she leaves you over this, goes to all her friends, and talks about how Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington wants a dick up his ass. Shit. Should I just abort?.. No. I mean, she wouldn’t do that, would she? No. No, of course not. 

“Um.” He finally starts and your body tenses, preparing for the worst. He won’t even look at you, his gaze is fixed on his nails as he picks at his cuticles. “I- Eddie talked about something. I kinda- It sounded intriguing- Well. It- It sounded scary at first.” He breathes out an incredulous chuckle. “I was like- No way. But then- uh. Then I imagined it with… With you and-” A shaky sigh falls from his lips and you turn to him. His face is beet red and his hands are shaking lightly when he rubs them against his thighs, trying to help with the clamminess. 

“And after I did that it- The idea became very, very appealing. Like- It’s kinda embarrassing how bad I- How badly I want it…” You begin to get a bit nervous at how he’s dancing around the topic, and how vague he’s being. He turns to you for a moment, his face getting redder when he realizes you’ve been looking at him. “Don’t- Just uh, don’t judge me too fast, okay? Eddie, he- he made it sound really- really good, sweetheart.”

Your heart is racing, his intense gaze piercing into your soul. “You’re scaring me, Steve.” His eyes widen and he takes your hand into his, you try not to make a face at how damp his palm is. “It’s- I mean it’s not bad. I hope you don’t think it is. Uhm…” He takes a deep breath and breaks your eye contact to analyze the bedsheets. “Have you heard of, um… p-pegging?”

A light spreads through your body and you fight the smile that wants to crack your face open, trying to stay more neutral. “Yeah… Why?” He looks up at you hesitantly, his eyes are scared and desperate. His eyelids flutter as his lips tremble, “I - I want-” He whines and pulls away from you, conceding. “Nevermind. It’s- Fuck. It’s probably too late to backtrack, huh?” His hand combs through his hair, embarrassed, stressed, and scared for your reaction. 

You stay silent for a bit as Steve gets lost in his thoughts, you’re considering your options and ultimately decide to show him. You stand and start walking to the closet, Steve exhales a frantic sigh and you hear him stand behind you. “You- Don’t be weird about it, I just-” You grab the box and turn around, holding it out to show him, picture side first. His mouth shuts immediately. He’s frozen where he stands, just staring at the box in your hands. Now you’re growing nervous at his silence. You chuckle nervously and walk back to where you were sitting on the bed, handing him the box and his eyes never leave it. 

“Bunny gave this to me a while ago… I never said anything ‘cus I didn’t think you’d want to but-” He finally lifts his gaze to you and you lose your breath at his state, already needy and wanting. “We could… If- I mean if you want we can t-try?” You feel like you’re vibrating in your seat, anxious but excited at the same time because Steve has been nodding at you since your sentence started. You giggle and take the box from his hand, turning to put it in your top drawer until the time is right. You giggle at your thought before turning back around to voice it to Steve. 

He’s fumbling with his buttons, his pants already off and a prominent bulge in his boxers. 

“Oh! Right- Right now? You want it right now?” You ask, audibly shocked and his hands freeze. He looks at you, embarrassed and you instantly feel bad for your tone. “I thought you’d be too drunk, baby.” He shakes his head lightly. “I’m not drunk anymore.” His tone is so soft, delicate as he speaks and it brings a smile to your face. You look him up and down, your smile widening at the dark spot spreading around his tip. You walk over to him slowly and watch his breathing speed up the closer you get. 

“Then get on the bed.” You say with an innocent tilt to your voice that ruins him. He moans at your words and basically throws himself on the bed. He’s wiggling his clothes off as you read the instructions for the strap, trying to figure out how you’re supposed to situate it over your hips. You get it up your legs before having to look back at the instructions, following each step as carefully as you could, but still left with the leather straps sliding down your legs instead of holding your dick in place. 

“Baby?” Embarrassment and a bit of amusement flood you as Steve calls out. You turn around begrudgingly and bite your lip at the sight. He’s laid out across his bed, his entire body flushed and blushing for you, his dick kissing his belly as his hips thrust into the air gently. You walk over to him with a shy smile on your face, holding the strap up on your hip as you climb over him. “I think I need your help.”

He’s mesmerized by the silicone cock, how it hands between your legs, how the hot pink color matches your character perfectly, like it’s meant to be your dick. “Yeah. Yes, I can help.” He sits up and starts pulling random straps until something tightens, then does the same with the other side. “Thanks, baby. Can you make sure the back straps are all secure?” You turn around and bend for him, not totally aware of the way you’re putting yourself on display for him. His eyes can’t help but gravitate to your ass, admiring the way the leather straps dig into the plush of it, leaving little indents on your skin. “A- all set, sweetheart.” He says with a light pat on your ass to tell you that you can turn back around. 

You turn to him with a smirk and he just stares up at you. His pink lips are wet and bitten and so alluring. You lean down and bury them in a kiss, smothering his lips with yours and breathing in every whine he gives. You pull away with a smile and he makes no move to flip over, his hands just rest on your hips as you stare at him. You lift off of him, and all he gives you is a confused stare… Himbo.

“Face down-” His breathing shudders. “Ass up, sweetheart.” He whines and flips over for you, but leaves his ass low, his dick flush with the bed. You shake your head fondly and climb over him, your legs on each side of his calves and you reach for his hips, letting your fingers ghost over his skin before pulling them up to rest against yours. Steve whines at the feeling of your cock between his ass, he wants to pull away but your hands convince him to stay put. Your thumb is rubbing back and forth, soothing him as you lean forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” He shivers and you pull away to reach over to your nightstand, grabbing his lube and squirting a generous amount into your hand before returning to your previous spot. 

“Okay. I’m pretty sure I have to stretch you out first. Is that okay?” He whines, sounding a bit upset and his hips wiggle so subtly you almost don’t catch it. You rest your un-lubricated hand on his lower back, stilling his movements. “How- Is that gonna take long?” You’re a bit confused by his question, silent as you figure out your answer. He turns to look at you over his shoulder, ensuring that you heard him and then he sees your confused expression. “I really want it.” 

His voice dissolves into a whine and you almost forgo it, almost convincing yourself that he doesn’t need prep- but the fear of tearing his pink little hole stops you. “It’ll just take a minute.” You spit the words at him, growing just as desperate as he is as your finger plunges into his hole, a bit faster than you probably should’ve but earning you a shouting moan from his pretty lips.

“Don’t wanna hurt your little hole, baby.” You tell him just to add insult to injury. He’s whimpering your name against the sheets, his eyes shut tight as he squeezes around your finger and you see his cock jump. You push in another finger and he takes it like a champ, begging for a third long before you planned. 

Once you’re done stretching him his entire body is hot and shaking, his cock leaking onto the sheets but he’s still unsatisfied. You line your cock up with his entrance and smile at the instant whimper it gets from Steve. You’re watching the way the silicone dick presses into his hole, the way he’s pushing back on it and this strapon must've figured out a way to connect to your nervous system because you swear you can feel his heat on it. You’re confused and entranced by how it looks, how it feels, and how he sounds. “M’gonna fuck you now, Stevie.” His dick twitches as he groans at your words and his hips press back onto your dick, teasing you with his warmth and friction. “Oh fuck. Please.”

You work your tip into him and a little nub at the bottom of the strap pushes into your clit, only furthering your fantasies of being able to feel real pleasure from his ass. You moan with him as you slide in. You prepped him well enough that you’re able to get half your dick in before he’s whining at you to slow down. You rest your front on his back and he can feel your boobs squishing into him, making the whole experience that more arousing. “You feel so good, love.”

You moan into his ear, low and sultry to fuck him up even further. He moans your name, eyes shooting open and his hips rock him back, forcing the rest of your cock into him and accidentally ramming you right into his prostate. “FU-” His curse is cut off with a breathless gasp and he collapses onto the bed. His arms are covering his obviously red face and he’s letting out shouting groans into the mattress as you grind yourself into that spot again and again. You never pull out very far, too scared that you’ll lose his special button.

His thighs are already shaking against yours and it twinges arousal in your stomach. You bottom out inside Steve and grind yourself into the base, moaning his name and riling him up. He can’t fathom why you’re moaning, he knows you can’t feel him but you’re moaning like he’s fucking you, and it’s fucking him up. His hips swivel back onto your dick, trying to get as much stimulation as he can. It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced, it feels like you’re everywhere, and he feels so full. The thought sparks a memory of you telling him the same thing and his balls tense at the role reversal. The fact that it's now you fucking him, filling him to the brim, moaning at how tight he is. 

He cries out your name and you watch his hand uncurl from the sheets in favor of sliding between his legs. You pull out and start fucking him as quickly as you can, surprised at how much it actually exerts but the sore muscles are worth it to hear the way his moans increase. He becomes frantic and pathetic, with high whines of  “So good, love it s’much. Love you s’much.” begin to litter his incoherent moans and you know he’s getting close. You watch his hole squeeze you more frequently the closer he gets and you wrap your hand around his waist. You smack his hand away from his dick and rest your entire body over him as you wrap your hand around him- causing him to collapse entirely as he moans your name. You’re jostled as he crashes to the bed but you keep up your pace as best you can. 

It’s a struggle to jerk him off against the mattress but his moans tell you that he doesn’t mind in the slightest. You’re able to fuck into him more easily from this angle and it shows, your pace is doubled and he’s basically screaming a loose frame of your name. The back of his neck is burning red and his moans are climbing, warning you of his impending orgasm. You smile, proud of yourself and him, and lean down to kiss the back of his neck, snapping his last straw. 

He shouts into the mattress, it’s barely a moan, closer to a sob or a scream as his cock throbs painfully. He’s spilling against the mattress, completely soaking the sheets with his cum as his body shakes against you. Your hand is slick on him, now flooded with his cum as he stutters into you, trying to fuck himself into your fist while fucking himself onto your cock. You thrust into him slowly, cooing into and kissing his ears as he comes down slowly. He twitches into you occasionally, gradually becoming overly sensitive to your movements but every time you stop he presses his hips up from the bed, forcing you to thrust into him again. So you stop stopping. 

You grind into him slowly, listening to the little mewls he lets out when you land close to his prostate. It’s like you’re massaging his insides, stroking along his soft, sensitive walls and eventually he falls asleep that way, leaving you with the struggle of flipping him over to clean him up but you don’t mind in the slightest.  

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[saratinz]

Erase Him From Your Brain

pairing ➩ Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

warnings ➩ angst, drinking, smut, pure filth, spanking, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, degradation, praise, pet names (good girl, slut)

synopsis ➩ sequel to 'Fuck Away the Pain'

word count ➩ 1.4k

a/n ➩ to celebrate reaching 69 followers, I give you part 2. comment to be added to taglist.

Your date with bucky is tonight, and you could not be more nervous. It’s weird, the fact that you’re about to have a romantic evening with the guy who you only had hatred towards two weeks ago. There’s a thin line between love and hate, and you two had crossed it. You have no idea what’s going to happen at this dinner. He picked a fancy restaurant, but no amount of money spent can make up for a lack of connection. And that’s your worst fear, realizing that even though your sexual chemistry is off the charts, your ideas of romance might clash. 

You went through hundreds of different outcomes in your head, but never did you expect this one to even be possible. “Ma’am, if he’s not gonna show up, I need you to give up the table.”

“Thank you for being so patient, he’s not coming. Here, let me give you, $20, for your time.”

“I’m so sorry about your boyfriend.”

“Appreciate it. Have a good evening.”

When you get back to the compound, you can’t stop the tears that flood your eyes. How could he do this to you? How could you fall for it, fall for him? Whatever shred of respect you had for him a month ago is gone. James Barnes is a no-good, very bad, wretched man, and no amount of charm will ever get him out of this hole he dug. You are done. Done with lies, done with assholes, and done with love. What even is love anyway? Seems like all it does is cause pain. Your thoughts race as you lie in your bed, wondering what the fuck you did wrong. You’ve felt this pain before, you know you can beat it, but everything feels so awful. You want this hurt to be gone. Why won’t it just go away? Why won’t he just go away? That’s your last thought before you drift off into a not-so-peaceful slumber.

You wake up to violent knocking, with your eyes puffy and pillow stained with makeup. “Y/n, it’s Bucky.” Fuck this, you roll over, figuring he’ll eventually go away. “I know you’re in there, F.R.I.D.A.Y confirmed for me.

“Fuck off James.”

“C’mon baby, just let me apologize.”

“Get away or I swear to god, I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“Just, I rescheduled our dinner for tonight, if you don’t come, I understand, but I’m giving you the option.”

“Hope you’re more embarrassed than you’ve ever been in your life.”

“I love you. ”

“Fuck you.”

“Okay, I’m leaving.” You scream into your pillow. The thought of going to dinner with Bucky makes you sick. It still crosses your mind though. No, you refuse to think about what could happen. Like how he could apologize, could be easy to talk to, could be your soulmate. Shut up brain. You do not want the guy who betrayed you, the guy who teased you to no end. You hope he’s in pain, and maybe that’s wrong, but it’s simply how you feel. 

You’re not usually a day-drinker, but this situation calls for it. You cradle your favorite drink, sipping it way faster than you should. You see a familiar face passing. “Hey Sam.”

“Hey Y/n. I need to talk to you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Bucky.”

“God, please don’t tell me he put you up to this.”

“He’s so sorry. He had a few drinks before dinner, he was so nervous, he wanted things to be perfect. He passed out from not sleeping or eating.”

“Here’s the thing, I don’t care what happened. I was scared too, but I showed up anyway.”

“He wanted me to give you this.” 

“Take it back to him, I don’t want it.”

“He said even if you didn’t open it, I have to force you to take the box.”

“Sam you’re really getting on my nerves.”

“Y/n, you want my honest opinion?”

“Go ahead.”

“He’s an asshole, you deserve better.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“Because even though he sucks sometimes, he’s never cared about anyone half as much as he cares about you. He’s always had your back.”

“That’s what you do when your an Avenger.”

“No, I mean he literally begs people to check up on you, to look after you, hell, he convinced Steve to give you a chance.”

“I didn’t ask for him to do any of those things, and look how well my thing with Steve ended.”

“He cares more about you than he does his best friend, that’s what came between them. You’re special, he didn’t intentionally fuck this up, that’s just what you get when you fall in love with him. So please, for the love of god, take him back, so that I never have to do this again. I will pay you to go on this date. Name your price.”

“One million.”

“I was thinking more like $50.”

“I’m not going to dinner.”

“Just, don’t drink too much, okay?”

“I know. Goodbye Sam.”

“Bye.” Once he leaves, you get right back to self-medicating. The drinks start to taste less and less like alcohol. You know your limits, and you use that knowledge to drink as much as you can without blacking out. When you finally cut yourself off, you realize it’s time for dinner. But there’s no way you’re going. Even drunk you knows that’s a bad idea. 

Bucky clouds your mind, like the virus he is. How do you even explain your feelings toward him? He’s just, he won’t get out of your head. You kinda wanna go to dinner. Wait, what? No you don’t, let him be so embarrassed like you were. But he’s so hot, and good at sex. No, shut up brain. And you love him. Well, that you can’t deny. No matter what you tell yourself, that will always be true. Fuck it, fuck reasoning, you are going to stop him from going. You don’t want him in pain like you are. 

You practically sprint to his room, trying to catch him before he leaves. You run into him in the hallway with his room. “James, don’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s humiliating.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do. I still love you, I don’t want you to go through with this.”

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” 

“Not even if I let you fuck me?” You put on your best pouty face.

“What?”

“Not even if I suck your dick?”

“Y/n, stop it.”

“Not even if I call you daddy?”

“How, how did you know I like that?”

“I didn’t, but I do now.”

“Shut up.”

“Guess you’re just gonna have to punish me, daddy.” All of a sudden, you’re pushed against the wall, caged in, and getting really turned on.

“You wanna be a brat? I’ll treat you like one.”

“Do your worst.” His lips are on yours in an instant, and it’s a filthy kiss, just tongue and teeth. You yelp as Bucky pulls away and throws you over his shoulder. Once you get inside his room, he walks to the bed and tosses you onto it. 

“Take your clothes off, underwear too.” You do as he said, feeling self-conscience under his dark gaze. “Good girl, now I’m gonna sit down, and you’re gonna lay across my legs.” Crawling onto his lap, you cry out as he smacks his hand across your ass. 

“What the fuck?” Another hit.

“You begged me to do this with your bad behavior. I can’t just let you get away with whatever. I’m gonna make you my obedient little slut, it’s time you learn a lesson or two. But if you feel uncomfortable, just say the word ‘red’ and I will stop.” Once again, you’re struck. “After every spank, I’m gonna need you to say ‘thank you, daddy’. You got that?”

“James, that’s humiliating.” He puts all of his strength into the next blow.

“That’s not my name princess, now what do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.” You reluctantly mumble.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Thank you, daddy.” You scream.

“Good fucking girl. Now we’re gonna do that 20 more times.” 

When your punishment is finally over, your eyes are puffy and your face is soaked. “It’s over honey, you did so good.” He helps you straddle him, kissing your tears away. You lay your head on his shoulder, wishing this feeling will last forever. He lies down, maneuvering your limp body so that you can use his still clothed chest as a pillow. You’re super drowsy, from the alcohol and spanking, and before long, you fall into a deep slumber.

Previous part / Masterlist / Next part

[oscarpiasstri81]

i wanna ruin our friendship - Oscar Piastri

part one / part two

summary ~ oscar and reader telling the grid about their newfound relationship… but they already know.

pairing ~ {oscar piastri × childhoodbsf!reader}

content warnings ~ language, mentions of sex, mostly fluff, carlos sainz being a menace

a/n ~ i did NOT think so many people would read, let alone actually like my first ever ff. thank you guys so much!!! Los amo mucho a todos, gracias. <3

word count ~ again, idk. like 1k or something ?

You woke up to the feeling of the warm sun resting over your face. Shifting a little in your still half asleep state, you felt a slight weight over your waist. Confused for a split second, you look down to figure out what it is. Seeing a strong, tanned arm, you’re reminded of last nights events.

Oscar had been awake for a few minutes before you, staying completely still in order to not wake you. Once he noticed you were awake, he spoke to you with his rough, sleep coated voice.

“Morning, pretty girl. How did you sleep?”

Hearing his voice made you flip your body around to face him, a smile already plastered on your face. You gave him a quick peck on the lips before replying.

“I slept pretty good, especially since I was next toyou.” Your words left a faint blush over Oscars face, completed with the prettiest of smiles.

He returned your previous gesture with another, much longer, kiss. As you felt him tongue running across the bottom of your lips, you let the kiss go on for only a moment longer before pulling away.

“As much as I would like to lay here all day, Charles has probably got breakfast going downstairs. You know how impatient he gets.”

Oscar responded to your statement with an annoyed groan. Rolling his eyes before pulling you into a short, but just as sweet, kiss. He quickly got out of bed, getting dressed as you began to do the same. Once you were both done getting ready, Oscar headed to the door. You quickly stopped him.

“Wait, Oscar.” He stopped and turned to look at you confused.

“Yeah? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just… are we going to say anything? To anyone? You know, about us?” You asked as nicely as possible, not wanting to come off as if you were ashamed. He seemed to understand what you were implying.

“We can if you want to, pretty. I have no problems in telling the whole world that you are my beautiful, lovely girlfriend.” He said with a soft smile.

“Good, good. I don’t want to keep anything a secret, especially from our friends.”

Glad to hear your words of affirmation, you both had agreed to tell each of your friends together, over whatever horrible breakfast Charles was cooking downstairs. As excited as you were to tell everyone about your relationship, you were not excited about Charles cooking skills, you could smell the smoke from upstairs.

The both of you headed downstairs together. As you walked into the room, you noticed all heads turn towards you and Oscar.

There were only about 12 people who had stayed over for the night, all of them being either from the grid, or one of the WAGs, as the internet had dubbed them.

Although you were confused as to why everyone had so suddenly looked, and then just as quickly averted their gaze, you headed to sit at the large table. Charles cooking hadn’t been so miserable today, only about half of it being slightly charred. Oscar took his seat next to you, laying his hand onyour thigh. You turned to look at him, and gave him a silent nod as the go ahead to tell the group about your news.

Just as Oscar was about to speak, a sharp voice suddenly interrupted him. Carlos.

“So, you two got up to some fun last night, sí?” He said with a smirk, he was a very forward and teasing person.

The blush that covered both you and Oscars faces confirmed whatever Carlos was insinuating, and that only made the groups laugh even harder. You turned to Oscar with an embarrassed look. It was obvious how oblivious the both of you were to how loud you had been last night. It now made sense how Lando, who you considered to be a brother, couldn’t meet your eyes earlier when you offered him a ‘good morning’.

It was clear that Oscar was equally as embarrassed as you, although the slight smirk on his face said otherwise. The usually quiet and introverted man was sort of proud that everyone heard how good he could make you feel. He broke everyone’s laughter as he spoke.

“Well, at least now we don’t have to tell you guys. But, we’re together, for clarification.”

Everyone offered their congratulations, still quietly laughing about the whole situation. Lando, on the other hand, was not finding this as amusing.

“I am happy for you guys, just… don’t be so loud next time. I don’t need to hear any of that. Y/n is like a sister to me!”

This sent everyone into a fit again, laughing at not only you and Oscars expense, but Lando’s as well.

“Yeah,” Carlos speaks up, “You didn’t need to tell us anything, we all heard.”

a/n ~ again, thank you guys so much for the support on part one!!! i really appreciate it. let me know if you have any requests for writes, i’ll do pretty much anyone. hasta la vista, bebé

[owlxle]

The Infernal Therapist

Or: The Hazbin Hotel finally gets a fucking therapist on staff

This is something of a chapter zero for a series I'm hoping to write surrounding a Hazbin oc and their misadventures.

Words: 1,384

Warnings: None

~

It was a normal day in Hell. As normal as could be expected, that is.

There's a soft knock at the door, almost as if the demon behind it doesn't want to be heard.

Unfortunately for the poor sinner, one of the hotel staff opens the door and stares at them.

At least it's someone they're on good terms with.

"Ah. Husker, hello."

The drunkard's eyes widen in recognition. "Oh. It's you..."

"Unfortunately, yes, it's me."

Standing on the doorstep is a humanoid demon in a white lab coat and black turtleneck, his skin is tinged purple and his eyes are a much deeper shade of the same color. The demon's black hair frames their face and a pair of half-rim glasses sit on their nose.

"What'd'ya want, Doc?" Husk sighs.

"Is our... mutual friend around?"

The bartender sighs and opens the door a bit more, revealing an imposing, familiar figure staring directly into their soul with his constant large grin.

The newcomer tenses immediately.

"Doctor Haze! How good to see you again, my friend!"

"Alastor."

The two demons stare at each other as Husk slinks off, Alastor almost daring Haze to make a move.

"Al? Is there someone at the- oh! Hello!" The overexcited princess of Hell steps in front of Alastor to shake Haze's hand enthusiastically.

"Oh- Greetings, your highness."

"Just call me Charlie!" She insists, dragging the sinner into the hotel and to the lobby.

Haze looks around, trying to get a read on his surroundings.

Husk has returned to the bar where a tall, furry, white demon is flirting with him relentlessly.

A demon with grey skin, long, white hair, a missing eye, and an angelic spear(???) glares daggers at the doctor.

A snake-like demon appears to be hiding behind a couch, watching cautiously.

A small red blur Haze recognizes as Niffty darts around, barely sparing the newcomer a glance aside from a quick once-over to confirm that he is not, in fact, a "bad boy".

Without turning around, Haze knows The Radio Demon's current location.

Directly behind him.

Alastor's ambient static slowly intensifies, putting an uneasy feeling in the air.

Something that the princess- Charlie doesn't seem to notice as she nudges the doctor into the middle of the room.

"Okay, everyone! We have a visitor!" Charlie announces, waving everyone closer. "This is-!" She pauses. "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name, mister...?"

Alastor cuts in before Haze has a chance to speak for himself.

"This, my dear, is Haze! An old friend of mine!"

"Mister Haze!"

The doctor shoots Alastor a glare, to which the Radio Demon responds with a knowing smile.

Charlie looks over at Haze, following his glare to the recipient. "Is something wrong?"

Alastor's grin grows slightly, daring Haze to correct the princess.

Watching this interaction, the spear-wielding demon speaks, her largely monotone voice harboring a touch of affection for Charlie. "Hon, maybe we should let him speak for himself."

"Oh! Sorry! I just got to excited and Alastor told us your name and-"

"Don't worry about it, your high-" He clears his throat. "Charlie."

"I'm Doctor Haze, but please, just call me Haze." He gives an awkward half-bow. "At your service."

"So the new guy has a title, huh? I've always liked guys with a bit more... experience~" The tall, furry demon says, his tone apparently meant to be seductive.

"...No thank you."

"Aw, come on, Doc! You look like the last time you got some was before they invented the fun stuff!"

"No thank you." Haze asserts, a bit more sternly.

"Your loss~!"

Now that he's moved closer, Haze can better make out this demon's features, wracking his brain for a name to put to the familiar face.

"Haze, this is Angel Dust, one of our residents." Charlie explains, smiling. "And over there", she gestures to the snake hiding behind the couch "is Sir Pentious! Our other resident!"

Pentious's hood flares, revealing four more eyes in addition to the two visible on his face and the third on his hat (which, by the way, appears to be alive).

"Hello, Doctor." Pentious says, politely as he slithers toward Haze. "I wassss just... doing reconnaissance! Yes!"

Haze nods, shaking the snake demon's outstretched hand hesitantly. "I can appreciate a strategic mind. It's a pleasure to meet you- all of you." He announces, expertly containing his true level of enthusiasm.

"We're not done yet!" Charlie says in a sing-song tone as she drags the poor sinner around the lobby.

"This is my girlfriend, Vaggie! She runs the hotel with me!"

Haze has a million questions about the grey-skinned demon. There's something so... wrong about her, like she doesn't belong in this setting. And that spear! He supposes its possible that Vaggie scavenged the weapon after an extermination, that would be the most logical answer, but Haze has always had a mind that runs rampant without his input.

Vaggie gives Haze a curt nod. "Hi." Ah, an individual of few words! Battle-hardened, maybe? He concludes that Vaggie was likely some kind of warrior on earth, maybe an older civilization? That would explain the confidence she exudes holding that spear... that would mean she's been down here quite a while, of course. She could even be older than Zestial!

...Back to the proverbial drawing board, then.

Charlie waves a hand in front of Haze's face, shaking him from his (admittedly long-winded) thoughts. "Haze? Are you alright??"

"Oh! Erm. Yes, sorry, I let myself get distracted for a bit too long." He laughs, hovering his hand over the back of his head in a stereotypical show of embarrassment. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Vaggie." Haze offers a handshake but the demon just... stares. Glares, even.

"She takes a bit to warm up to new people, don't worry." Charlie explains, dragging Haze to yet another introduction. He hopes it's the final one.

"Hey again, doc~"

Angel Dust. How many arms does this demon have? Four seems excessive, but if he's a spider, he should have eight limbs total, leaving a pair unaccounted for! Why he's expecting any of this to make sense, he's not sure, but he'd certainly appreciate it if it did.

There's a familiarity about the spider's name... Angel Dust. One of his patients may have mentioned it...?

"Oh, I know that look." Angel smirks. "You know me from my work!"

"Gay pornos." Husk adds, from behind the bar.

Yes, it was definitely one of his patients that brought him up. Probably Travis. Seems up his alley.

"Oh, of course." Haze nods.

"You watch my stuff?"

That is a fair conclusion to come to, quite honestly. "Oh- um. Not me, one of my patients mentioned you a few times."

"So the title ain't just for showing off? You've got patients? What kinda doctor are you, anyway?" Angel seems genuinely curious. Haze can appreciate that.

"He's the lobotomy kind!" Alastor announces, making his presence known again after his ambient static faded into the background.

"That's barbaric, Alastor." Haze mutters.

"Oh, I'm just kidding! Haze here is the kind of doctor that talks at you!"

"That's a gross oversimplification..."

"I know!" Alastor's grin seems to grow wider for a moment. "You're hilarious when you're offended!"

"Great. Thanks. Appreciate it." The doctor says under his breath, trying to ignore the Radio Demon.

"He ain't wrong, though. That's what you do." Husk asserts before taking a long drink from his nondescript bottle of alcohol.

"I'm a psychologist. I have a small clinic in Pentagram City where I provide therapy for sinners. I've found that it's often beneficial for the damned to show vulnerability."

Charlie's eyes light up and Haze can practically hear her enthusiasm. Internally, the demonic doctor grins, externally, he smirks.

"That's why I'm here. I want to offer my assistance in the betterment of sinners."

"Really?" Charlie asks, bouncing in place.

Alastor's eye twitches, a subtle sign that he is... irritated, to say the least.

He's hilarious when he's offended.

"I don't know if I believe in this concept of 'redemption' you've been peddling, but in the end, we have the same goal. We both strive improve the lives of sinners." Haze extends a hand to Charlie, in a way reminiscent of Alastor, albeit with none of the danger in the air. "What do you say?"

[mikaela-granger]

The Long Wait (Season 2) Chapter 13

Mr Sandman

Fandom: Grimm

Pairing: Sean Renard/OFC

The Long Wait Masterlist

A/N: A strange wesen is in town, well stranger than normal.

A few days after Sean stopped by, Lorelei, Nick, Hank, Rosalee and Monroe met at Monroe’s place for dinner to discuss the recent developments. Nick had confirmed that Sean was wesen.

“I can’t believe our captain is a hexenbiest.” Hank commented

“Well, technically, he’s a zauberbiest, being male.” Rosalee told him. “But I never heard of either being Royal. Somethings not adding up here.”

“I’ll tell you what’s not adding up, is a captain in the Portland police department is at least part hexenbiest, has Royal blood, and woke Juliette up from her coma with a kiss. Wait a minute, do we know who his parents are?”

“I don’t.” Nick said.

“Me neither.” Hank added.

“I know that his mother is the hexenbiest. And his father is King Frederick of the House of Kronenberg. At least, according to Adalind.” Lorelei told them.

“Right, cause we can trust anything she says.” Monroe said. “But if it is true than…”

“He wouldn’t be fully accepted as a member of the Royal family.” Rosalee said, and Lorelei felt her heart go out to Sean. She knew he didn’t have a good relationship with his half-brother, he had never mentioned anything about his father or the rest of his family. “It might be why he is so interested in you two.” She directed this towards Nick and Lorelei. “If he has you two working for him, it could give him a big advantage over his family.”

“That’s probably why he gave you the key back” Monroe said with a mouth full of food.

“Yeah.” Hank said, agreeing with Monroe. “He wants you guys on his side.”

“But who’s side is he on?” Nick asked.

“And how many sides does he have?” Monroe added.

“That’s what we need to find out.”

“Either way, he’s got some big hairy plans.” Monroe said as got up. “Anyone want some more…?” He cut himself off when he saw the others holding out their wine glasses for a refill. “I’ll take that as a yes. Lorelei, you sure you don’t want any. You’re never one to turn down a glass of wine.”

Lorelei shook her head. “I’m sure. I’m still not feeling too well.”

Nick looked at her in concern. “Still? What did the doctor say?”

Lorelei shrugged. “Probably just the flu. Just told me to take it easy.”

Nick seemed to accept that; however, Lorelei saw Rosalee watching her intently from across the table. Lorelei glanced down at her plate, avoiding the older woman’s gaze. She knew about Lorelei’s interactions with Sean earlier in the year, however Lorelei had never updated her on the change in relationship status. Hopefully she wouldn’t work things out before Lorelei was ready to tell everyone.

A couple of days later, Lorelei was with Nick and Monroe at the trailer. Nick had a weird case, that may be wesen related. They were looking through the books, trying to see if anything jumped out at them. At one point, they heard someone approaching the trailer, which put them on alert. Thankfully it was Hank.

“Sorry I’m late.” He said, handing out the coffees he had brought with him.

“It’s ok. It looks like we found something.” Nick told him, gesturing to the book Monroe had in front of him. He and Hank joined Monroe and Lorelei by the table.

“It’s called a Jinnamuru Xunte.” Monroe said, struggling with the name.

“Alright, so what are we dealing with now?”

“Let’s see, departed London April 16, 1905, arrived Kenya May 20th.” Monroe said, reading from the book. “My third trip to the interior where I encountered one of the most fiendish wesen known on the dark continent. It took me fourteen days, but I finally captured the beast who has been terrorising villagers. He blinds the innocent, feeding off their tears like an opium addict. The tribesmen call him, uh, a jinnamuru xunte, which roughly translates as tear stealing evil spirit, which I find ironic since until recently he was the local parish priest.” Monroe looked up at the others in surprise. “Ok, so confession, right? Guilt, sin, remorse. That’s perfect for tears. It’s like a jinnamuru xunte smorgasbord of grief.” Monroe told them, before returning to the book. “When I removed his brain from his severed head, I discovered it was swollen, blackish, and crawling with vile red worms. Alright, anyone want to take over here?”

“I got it.” Lorelei told him, sliding the book towards her. “Jinnamuru xunte will often revisit his victims, targeting their family members whose tears are readily available.”

“So, he returns to feed off the grief he’s caused by blinding his victims.” Hank said, as Nick’s phone rang.

Hank and Nick headed off to check in on the surviving victim. The call had been from the ME who advised Nick that it was the same parasites they found in the first victim, and they were growing.  Lorelei and Monroe headed to the spice shop to see if there was, anyway, they could help the second victim.

“He should have been here by now.” Monroe said, referring to Nick as he paced back and forth. “I mean, he should have been here by now!”

“He’ll be here.” Lorelei told him. “Probably just caught up.”

“This is very nasty. These parasitic worms have barbs that hook into the eyes, making them impossible to wash out.” Rosalee said, looking down at the book in front of her.

“Are you sure you’re looking at the right book?” Monroe asked her, standing beside her to look at the page. “Oy, god. What are we supposed to do?”

“I will find something.” Rosalee assured him, getting up to look at the shelves. “By the way, I was with Juliette last night.”

Lorelei and Monroe stared at her. “What?” Monroe asked.

“She’s like…having sort of hallucinations.”

“From the stuff we gave her?” Lorelei asked.

“I guess.” Rosalee replied and Monroe groaned. Before he could say anything, the door opened, and Hank came in carrying Nick. It looked as if their wesen had gotten him. Monroe was fretting as they bought him into the side room and laid him down.

“Look, we’ve been working on this for a while and the only thing that we’ve been able to figure out for sure is these worms, ok, they have barbs that actually hook into your eyeball.”

“Monroe.” Rosalee shouted at him.

“What? I’m telling him. It’s better to know.” Monroe defended himself. “I’d want to know, I think, I don’t know, maybe I wouldn’t. I’ll shut up.” He said, as Lorelei gave him a dirty look.

“Ok, we have to keep his eyes open. The worms thrive in the dark. Light slows them down.” Rosalee instructed, as she continued reading.

Hank instructed Nick to open his eyes, and Nick confirmed that he could not see anything at all. Rosalee joined them, and they were all surprised that Nick seemed to realise it was her. They set up a lamp in front of Nick. Hank took Lorelei and Monroe aside, telling them that previous victim no longer had any eyes left.

“I think Rosalee found something.” Nick commented from his spot on the loveseat.

“What are you talking about man? How do you know what…”

“Lorelei, Hank, Monroe. Can you come in here please?” Rosalee called out from the other room.

Weird looks were exchanged before they joined Rosalee in the main room. “There is a cure.” She told them quietly.

“Oh, thank god.” Hank said.

“But we have to pull his eye out.”

“Pull his eye out! How is that a cure?” Monroe asked.

“No, no, not Nick’s eye. The eye of the jinnamuru xunte.”

“Oh.”

“It’s like a vaccine. We need the antibodies that only the host carries. That’s why he’s not blind.”

“Ok, so…how are we supposed to pull out on of this guy’s eyes?”

“With a spoon.” Rosalee answered, showing them the image in the book. Monroe groaned in disgust.

“Are we supposed to do this while he is still alive?” Lorelei asked.

“Yes, and he has to be in full form.”

“Full woge!”

“How much?” Came Nick’s voice from behind them, they turned and saw him leaning against the door. “How much time do we have before these, worms finish their meal?”

Rosalee got up and rushed over to him. “The next three to four hours are crucial. After that, it’s too late” She told him honestly. She started to lead him back to the loveseat. “Ok, so we need you lying down and looking directly into the light. That is the only way we are going to slow this thing down.”

Lorelei, Rosalee, and Monroe worked on the potion needed to save Nick’s eyesight, while Hank waited to hear if Wu had managed to track the jinnamura xunte down.  Lorelei kept glancing at her brother, looking so helpless. He couldn’t seem to catch a break. Hank received a call, and thanks to the information received Nick was able to work out where the jinnamura xunte was going. He was going after the sister of the second victim. The five of them packed up and headed off. They waited in the car, as Hank walked to the front door to check things out. Nick commented that it sounded like the jinnamura xunte was already in the house.

Eventually, after a fight between Lorelei, Nick and the jinnamura xunte, they managed to get its eyes. Nick’s eyesight was saved, and he seemed to walk away from the encounter with enhanced hearing.

The next evening, Lorelei found herself laying on her bed, looking at the sonogram photo she had received from the OBGYN. It still didn’t seem real that she was pregnant. Lorelei had never given it a lot of thought before. She was only nineteen, almost twenty, how many people her age were thinking about having babies. Lorelei would have to start planning what to buy, how she was going to juggle a baby on top of work and school, would she need to take time off school and work when the baby was born. The OBGYN had said based on her last period, she was due sometime in early November. However, Lorelei knew this was more of a guesstimate. The baby could come sooner or later than that.  Based on some of her research, Lorelei saw that people usually waited until twelve weeks had passed before sharing news of their pregnancy with others. That gave Lorelei about six weeks to figure out how to tell both her brother and Sean. It also gave Lorelei some more time to figure out how she was going to do this.

A/N: Another shorter chapter. It was a little hard to incorporate Lorelei into this one. Sorry I didn’t really give you much in regard to the fight between Lorelei, Nick, and the jinnamura xunte. I was drawing a blank. No matter what I wrote, it was not good.

Next Part

Taglist: @zoexme

Banner by @cafekitsune

[rreskk]

Curiosity killed the pussy

Summary: Inspired by one of my first ever fanfics (and most popular), voicemail. This is a... Second? Part? Maybe? I don't really know, but it's a oneshot based on a different interpretation from the first fanfic. Instead of ignoring Trevor's calls, the reader answers (during the dead of night) and you can already tell what this means.

TW: -Smut

Word count: 1813

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

“Hello?” You had answered, eyes barely opening as you were awoken at 1am by the sound of your phone-call. It was silly really… You didn’t even bother to look at the contact ID.

“Hey, sugar,” A familiar, husky voice radiated from the speaker, “Whatcha doin’ awake at this time? Don’t you have your beauty sleep?”

It was Trevor – his smirk being heard from over the line with how smug and freakish he was – and he didn’t seem sympathetic to wake you. Not at all.

“Trev, it’s 1am…”

“I can read the time, darling.”

“What do you need?” You sat up from your bed, holding the phone close to your ear.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about you a lot. I miss you.” He purred.

It should be too early to feel sudden butterflies in your tummy as he’d continue pestering your half-awake presence, yet it didn’t stop him. You could feel his eyes ogling your profile picture with a toothy, predatory grin. He was easy to predict (in that sense anyway).

“I wanted to speak to you. I couldn’t miss the opportunity.” His whispers growing more seductive and slurred. The deepness, the harshness; it enlightened your ears.

“It’s so late, Trevor.”

“But it ain’t too late to see my precious girl, hm? I’ve been craving for these calls, baby. Remind me; whatever happened to our late nights together?”

There was ignorance like he was planning on escorting this conversation into what he wants. You sensed the manipulation from the long-distant line.

“You had gotten busy in Los Santos,” You turned on the lamp on the night-stand, “It’s only been two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

“I believe so.”

“Jesus… C’mon, [y/n], that’s been too long, right? I don’t wanna lose our streak.” He softly whined.

“From what I remember, you failed to return my calls. Sooo… You may be talking to yourself.”

“Don’t be bitter with me.”

“I’m not being bitter, I’m just being honest.”

“Your honesty is turning me on. Real bad.”

“Everything turns you o – “

“Incorrect, [y/n]. Everything you do, that turns me on.” He’d snicker.

You rolled your eyes but he seemed to have felt your spitefulness from the phone. There was a heavy rustle from his line. He was clearly shuffling around. There was no wind turbulence nor background voices. It was just him and echoes of what seems to be bedsheets.

“What are you doing?” You asked, hiding back a grin.

The distant sound of his giggles was audible and soon, he returned to his phone.

“What? Missing me already?”

“Noooo,” Maybe you sounded too defensive there, “I was just wondering. There was lots of rustling. Sounded like you were crawling through some bubble wrap.”

“I was gettin’ comfy, princess. Why? Can’t a guy use his own bed?” Trevor playfully huffed.

“Alright, alright. I was just curious, that’s all.”

“Curiosity kills the cat.”

“Does it now?” You smiled.

“Mhm…”

“Is it not mischievous of me to be curious about the background noises?”

“Oh, it’s very mischievous… And deviant. You wanna know what I’m doin’. ‘Cause I know you got a damn good idea…”

“Why might I get in trouble for wanting to know?”

He chuckled lowly, “Immoral, my girl. It’s partially unacceptable to drive a man’s arousal when you aren’t around. It’s painful…”

“Poor baby…”

“What are you wearing, [y/n]?”

You bite your lip and glance down at your loose PJs that were creased and barely stable over your frame. Without knowing of the future circumstances, you went to be bed with no intensions of covering up properly.

“Mm… Just a T-shirt…”

“No bra?”

“No bra.” You confirmed.

Trevor exhaled sharply, the shakiness being heard through the phone-call. What came next was a cruel growl as he seemed to be holding back an itchy urge to moan.

“Fuck… No panties, babe?”

“M’no. Just a T-shirt.”

“Send picture.” He almost urgently demanded.

You subtly murmured in response, “I’ll call back.”

After he hung up, you lifted up your shirt to expose your free breasts and took a Birdseye picture. It was dark, but your lamp helped light up the curves and shades of your figure. Especially your tits.

You took a few seconds to admire the beauty of your picture. You weren’t exactly confident before you met him, but ever since your life had (unwillingly) tangled with his, he had left you completely sure of your own body. Trevor gave you the body worship to leave you happy and proud of your own skin. He loves every inch of you… So you know he’ll drool over this picture, even if it’s low-quality and dark.

You sent an attachment picture of your nudes and saw the status turn from “delivered” to “read.” There was a few seconds to spare. Them seconds took minutes, hours, years, a lifetime. You’d chew on your lip and dreamily caress your breast with one hand. You pretended your hand was his big, scrawny ones – pretending he was there with you – yet the thought was rudely disturbed once that same caller ID phoned you, again.

“…” There was heavy breathing.

“Trevor?” Your voice broke with anticipation and desire.

“I need you.” He finally growled. There was a creepy musk to his pronunciation. He was in heat, the ugly mess inside him causing such a low, stiff pitch to his voice.

And it made you instantly wet; your core shrieking.

“Mmm, yeah…”

“Keep whimpering like that,” Trevor breathed, “I need you on me. I want you, now. Now, now.”

“God…”

“You touching yourself, babe?”

You struggled to hold the phone since your hand, that was preoccupied with your breast, had unconsciously migrated to your pussy. A finger rotated and bashfully slandered your core opening. There was a loose grip, your body growing this natural instinct that he was there to fuck you (thanks to the many times he was there to heal your internal loneliness), so your pussy was free, open; missing some extra contact.

“Yes, yes.” You’d timidly whimper.

“Wanting me there with you?”

“Yes…”

“Me too, [y/n], me too.” Trevor ached. His phone shuffled again and the product of this distraction grabbed your undeniable focus.

A coy, savage noise of his brutish hand was mangling the length of his penis, his skin burning due to the raw contact. It was a naked sound. Your line picked it up easily and your dirty mind had resorted to a fantasy.

“Fuck – “ You grunted and began to finger yourself harder. The thought of sucking him senselessly, the need of his flaming cock. You missed having that intense physical contact with him. You’d be damned if he’d spend more time down Los Santos. Without his touch, you had no business around Sandy Shores.

You’d just wait;

Masturbate alone,

Moan his name,

Call him,

Sext him,

Sleep alone,

Masturbate alone,

REPEAT.

 “Oh, yes, yes!” Trevor outrageously cried, “Mmm, I can see you riding my dick hard, baby. Fuck… God, I miss you. I fuckin’ miss you… GOD!”

You had inserted two fingers now. They were replacing the yearning for his touch, and although it wasn’t enough, it was doing the job. You leaned your head back against the pillow and quietly moaned unattainable slurs of his name, the syllables falling pathetically from your tongue.

“[y/n], [y/n]! Oh, fuck, I love you!”

The mutual pining and alluring hunger between your pleasant whines, sheepish moans. Trevor continued to mount his dick as his ears were out hunting for your supressed groans. He tried to encourage you, but whenever he attempted to verbally execute his plans, they’d fall into piles of broken cries and ridiculous moans. He was loud after all. There was no denying the fact. His big mouth would grow even more whenever he’s around you, or your voice.  

“I want your cock, Trevor,” You were breathless and winded, “I need you so bad, baby… Oh God, I’m gonna – “

“Cum for me. Cum for me, baby. You better show me a fuckin’ picture after… FUCK!”

“Pleeeeaseee!”

Trevor snarled and pushed the phone closer to his beaten cock, his hand jerking the last of his orgasm as he couldn’t help but squirm.

“Shit, I LOVE YOU!” He whimpered, his cock ejaculating the warm semen. He wished you were there to watch. He stared down at his orgasm with a glare before returning his attention to his phone. You were still moaning his name.

“Trevor, fuck, fuck!”

“Gimme that pussy, babe…”

“I’m gonna – GOD! I NEED YOU SO BAD!” You wailed.

“I can hear your cunt from here… Mmm, you fuckin’ slut. Faster, c’mon, do it for me.” Trevor sadistically giggled and continued to listen to the overwhelming stimulation behind your noises.

“I- I, Oh… Oh, God, Oh SHIT!”

 It felt like you were being torn apart. Your fingers were numb, the oozing white cum burning your flesh alive. The relief your stomach felt, the sweat coldly seeping from your pores at the temperature changes. You made a small shriek and grew silent. The phone felt from your vacant hand as it fell upon the mattress nearby.

He giggled from the speaker beside you – “Such a desperate whore… God, I miss you… C’mon, give me a picture, yeah?”

You nodded, even if he couldn’t see, and hung up to proceed with the picture. Your camera was exposed to your cum-wracked pussy, the surface red-hot and cum drooling from your pubes and entrance. It was a perfect mess. You’ve captured the perfect shot and immediately sent it to him.

As for before, it went from “delivered” to “seen” in seconds.

The three dots that would signal his response would start and pause, an irregular pattern that lasted for a few minutes. He was definitely losing it from his side of the screen. You could just tell.  

However, you received a picture back instead.

It took a few readjusted moments for the pixels to clear, and once it did, you quickly stopped your jaw from dropping. Trevor had sent a nude back. His cock, red and bruised, limby sat in his sticky hand. There was a pool of semen upon his small stomach pouch and his thighs, hairy and thick, had small scatters as well.

The caption from the picture included the phrase; ‘Came hard 4 u again… Ur pic hot ASF!’

You giggled and responded with a simple text.

‘I miss you’

He was quick to respond – ‘Miss me sm that u cum hardr when we togetha again’

Like a school girl, you smiled giddily at his message until another text came through.

‘Now get ur beauty sleep. Gonna call u in mrning. Luv u!’

His contact status soon turned offline and you threw your phone aside, unable to contain your enjoyment. Although you were still sticky and wet, the orgasm had knocked you completely. You advanced into your unconscious sleep momentarily.

The excitement of what tomorrow brings had made you dream good, and great.

[marvelmusing]

Blood in the Water

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: When Billy goes to get the paperwork for your new life together, Agent Madani pays you a visit. (Season 2 AU where Billy has been living with you instead of Dumont after escaping from hospital)

Warnings: blood, murder, fighting, injuries (nothing really graphic), knives, guns, typical canon themes.

A/N: I finally watched season 2 of the punisher (okay so I only watched the scenes with Billy in but that counts). So I have a few fics inspired by season 2 in the works atm.

My Masterlist

There’s a knock at the door.

Three even raps against the wood.

Billy wouldn’t knock, he has his own pair of keys. Pulling yourself together, you nudge the suitcase over to one side before you move towards the door.

A glance through the peephole reveals Dinah Madani waiting on the other side. Closing your eyes, you hesitate for a long moment.

You could pretend you’re not in.

But you didn’t know how long Billy would be gone. Dinah might decide to wait in the hall, and if Billy returned while she was still here that would be the end of it all.

“Dinah, hi.”

“Hi. I thought I’d come and check on you.”

“Oh thank you.” You pause for a moment, shrugging lightly. “Guess I’m a little shaken by the news. Never thought Billy would be capable of something like that.”

The news had broken this morning. Billy had handed you a mug of coffee and the two of you sat on the couch as you watched the reporters explain that the Punisher was confirmed dead at the scene.

It had all been carefully orchestrated. Billy had roused his men, setting an ambush for Frank when he had tried to take down Billy at the base of his operations. He had lost three of his men that night, but returned home with a weight off his shoulders.

No one would come after him now. He was free to start a new life with you.

He had kissed you softly this morning before he left, cradling your face between his hands.

“Imma go get our paperwork, and say goodbye to the guys.” Another kiss, his smile crinkling the scars on his face. “Then we’re outta here.”

Dinah’s voice pulls you out of your memories.

“You going to invite me in?”

You blink at her.

“Oh, of course.” The smile you give her is apologetic and slightly self depreciating. “Would you like some tea?”

“Sure.”

She shrugs off her police jacket, folding it over her arms before she discards it on the half wall that overlooks the kitchen and living room. Right where Billy always leaves his jacket.

Dinah follows you into the kitchen, immediately noticing the suitcase tucked away on the floor.

“You going somewhere?”

Her question makes you frown, anxiety sparking in your chest, then you see where her gaze has landed.

“Yeah. With everything going on, I think I need to get away from the city. Get my mind away from it all.”

“A good idea. Wish I could do the same.”

You could, your thoughts argue against her as you put the kettle on the stove. You could keep your head down and stay away from me and Billy.

She hovers by the entrance to the kitchen.

If there’s one thing you’ve learnt, it’s that Dinah Madani doesn’t know how to act like a person.

Every interaction she has is like an investigation or an interrogation. Everything she does is to further her case - whatever that may be. And for the last year, her unofficial case has been your Billy.

It might just be your nerves, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. Dinah hasn’t removed her gun from its holster. She did last time she was here. She suspects you of something.

“Would excuse me for a second?”

She nods.

“Sure.”

Her eyes follow you as you head towards the bathroom. Hands folded in front of her, the casual stance seems performative and her eyes catch yours as you turn to close the door.

“I’ll make the tea.”

You nod with a small smile and close the door behind you.

With a sigh, you turn the water on, examining the exhausted expression looking back at you from the mirror on the wall.

When you hear a familiar floorboard creak - the one in your office - you keep the water running but leave the bathroom. The door shuts smoothly behind you, and you cross silently into the kitchen.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest, you unsheathe a kitchen knife from the wooden block on your countertop.

When you see Dinah heading towards the bathroom, gun at the ready, you exhale shakily. She has no grounds to view you as a threat. Yes you were harbouring a highly dangerous criminal, but she didn’t have proof of it.

Even if she did have proof, Billy could be blackmailing you, or threatening you into keeping his secret. Dinah didn’t know that. You could be innocent. You weren’t, but it’s the principle of it that upsets you.

She opens the bathroom door, and you lunge forward. The knife sinks into her stomach and she gasps, startled.

Gunshots are loud and the noise rings in your ears as you keep her from pointing the gun at you whilst simultaneously holding onto the knife that is now slick with her blood.

You never realised how difficult stabbing someone was.

Struggling with the knife, she screams and hurls herself at you. Your knife slips free, discarded on the floor.

The two of you grapple with one another, tossing your bodies against the walls. Her gun skitters over the hardwood floor. When she makes a grab for it, you yank her hair.

She grabs hold of your arms, preventing you from hitting her again. Instead, you both writhe as you throw one another against the countertops. Marble digs painfully into your side, driving the air from your lungs.

Her hands close around your throat, pinning you to the counter as you scratch and claw at her. Shakily, you try to reach for the knife block, but it’s too far.

As your vision blurs, your fingers close around the handle of the kettle. With whatever remaining force you can muster, you bring the boiling kettle down on her hand.

There’s a satisfying thunk and she stumbles backwards. Tightening your grip on the kettle, you swing again at her. She blocks with her arms but you keep going relentlessly.

After dealing countless blows, the kettle is knocked from your hand.

Wheeling around, you throw yourself into the hallway. Madani is mere seconds behind you. Where was her gun? It was on the floor somewhere. Where is it?

Instead, you find your knife. The blood shimmers over metal, the rug it landed on is stained scarlet. Without thinking, you spin with the knife in hand as Madani lunges at you.

With the momentum of her body, the knife slides in easier this time. Her eyes widen, as do your own. Had you been intending to kill her? Maybe. Had you solely wanted not to die? Definitely. Could those thoughts coexist?

Her breathing rattles and blood soaks her lips as she slumps down. Glossy white shirt marred with blood - her blood. She goes still.

Had you wanted to kill her? There might have been a moment to save her, to press down on the wounds and keep her alive. You hadn’t done that. Why? Shock maybe. Or maybe you had wanted her to die.

Maybe something you had buried inside you finally revealed itself. When she had visited Billy in the hospital, your blood had boiled. They wouldn’t let you visit him. She had told you that you were nothing to Billy.

One night after he had escaped from the hospital, Billy told you that Dinah stood at the foot of his bed. Every night.

Perhaps you had internalised that more than you thought.

“Sweetheart. Can I have the knife, please?”

Unfocused eyes drifting up from the floor, your gaze settles on a familiar pair of dark eyes watching you as you blink.

“Billy?”

He nods, fingers curling around yours.

“I’m here. Give me the knife, sweetheart.”

As he touches you, reality returns to your body and you realise how tightly you’re gripping the knife. Knuckles aching, you let go, allowing Billy to take it from you.

His fingers touch your cheek delicately.

“Is any of this yours?”

You shake your head.

Billy bundles you up in a coat, and grabs the last of your shared things. He walks you to your car, helping you into the passenger seat before he throws your bags on the back seat.

Then he drives.

The silence doesn’t worry Billy too much, but he keeps an eye on you all the same.

When your eyes grow heavy, he speaks up.

“Don’t go to sleep. You might have a concussion.”

Tears spill over your cheeks as you whisper in a broken voice,

“Billy I’m tired.”

“I know. We’ll stop soon I promise.”

On the outskirts of Massachusetts, Billy finds a run down motel. He books a room for you both, and under the cover of early morning darkness he guides you inside.

Exhaustion and pain narrows down the world to what sensations you’re feeling. The ache in your side, the throbbing in your temples. Crusty dried blood over your hands. Billy’s gentle touch as he removes your clothes.

Hot tears tracing their way down your face. The smell of soap and the sound of rushing water.

It’s only once Billy settles you into the steaming water that you realise how cold you were. Violent shivers wrack your sore body, as you huddle in on yourself. But Billy doesn’t let you curl up and hide.

He takes your hand, dunking it under the water before he uses his own hands to remove the blood. In the beginning it just smears over your arm, staining his own hands with it.

He cups handfuls of water, scooping them over your body as he cleans you up.

The motel towels are rough and scratchy, but Billy presses them over your damp skin with care. He dresses you in one of his shirts and relief finally begins to settle into your body.

Billy sits at the top of the bed, his right arm bent up behind his head as he leans against the headboard. You sit down beside him, facing him.

“Can I go to sleep now?” At your question, he leans forward, cupping your face in his hands to study your gaze intently. “I’m okay.”

He nods, tension evident in his shoulders as his gaze lowers to the bed sheets. Then he admits in a low voice,

“Dunno what I’d have done if I’d lost you.”

There’s a brief pause before you respond.

“You would’ve killed her.”

The corner of Billy’s mouth quirks and he half rolls his eyes.

“Obviously.”

His expression shifts, and he strokes his finger down the length of your jawline.

“I meant afterwards.” His voice is all but a whisper. “You’re all I’ve got.”

“You’re all I’ve got too. But I’m not leaving you Billy, and I don’t care what I have to do to stay with you.”

He kisses you softly.

“I’m proud of you.”

A light scoff escapes your worn throat.

“Thanks.”

He shakes his head lightly.

“I mean it. Killing is easy for me.” He rolls his shoulder as he settles back against the headboard. “Like some kinda second nature. But I know it ain’t like that for everyone.”

He drapes an arm over the pillows next to him, and you nestle into the space between his side and his arm.

“It was easy.” Your admission is quiet as you stare at the fibres that make up his shirt. “And I think that’s what scares me. How easy it was.”

“You don’t have think about that, if you don’t wanna.” His voice is quiet as he curls his arm around you. “If it was hard, then I’ll help you deal with it like you help me with my shit.”

Sparks drift down your side as he traces his fingers over your sore ribs.

“An’ If it was easy, I’m the last person who could judge you for that.”

Tears well in your eyes again, but you’re too tired to cry, instead you slump your face down into his side, fisting the material of his shirt tightly as you cling to him.

“Love you, Billy.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

“We’re gonna be okay now.”

He breathes a small sigh of relief.

“Yeah we are.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @nyx2021 @skybridgerton @dragon-of-winterfell @chickensarentcheap @stardustmorozov @sweetwritingfanficfriend @witchcraftandwit @ladyofsoa

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 11

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 11/?? Word count: 1323 Cw: prostitution mentioned]

—————

The next day and a half seemed to crawl by. Blitzø and Loona went to work, if only to provide themselves with distraction. And if Blitzø reduced that day’s targets into a more pulpy mess than usual, well… neither the clients nor targets were arguing about the end result.

They spent those two nights at Stolas’ estate. Mostly so none of them would sneak off on their own. But also to be on site when Scarlet and Vex returned. The two servants seemed very sure of themselves as they left for Pentagram City in the early evening.

They got back shortly before dawn. They both looked rumpled and tired, but uninjured. Not to mention very satisfied with their self imposed mission.

They gathered in Stolas’ chambers, with the exception of Octavia. Firstly, she was still sleeping and secondly, none of them wanted her to hear what the pair had gotten up to at the brothel.

Because they did confirm it was a brothel, one with delusions of grandeur it seemed. “Seems like the owner is trying to be all fancy at this one,” Scarlet weighed in first. “He’s got two others but they’re pretty run down according to who we talked to.”

Vex gulped down some coffee before adding, “We didn’t go to the others, that’s all gossip. This place has a lounge for customers. Some of the employees perform on stage and in bed and you can request specific employees. The others, you rent a room for a couple hours and you get who’s available.”

“So we acted like a horny couple on a date,” Scarlet said after she devoured a breakfast sandwich. “Had some weak drinks, listened to out of tune singers, and requested one of the guys to come to a room. We didn’t fuck him!” she hurriedly added.

“Satan’s balls no!” Vex reassured the trio. “We told him we had a kink for having someone in the room while we fucked. He said it wasn’t the weirdest thing a client had asked for and he got to scroll Sinstagram while we boned. We talked with him in between rounds.”

Scarlet was sipping her own coffee so Vex continued. “Now if we need to go back, we’re established as well paying clients with an exhibitionist kink.”

“Which isn’t exactly untrue, but it’s nice to combine altruism and horniness on someone else’s dime,” his partner piped up. “So, nitty gritty; Miss Dina is there, we saw her. Dunno if she does any performing.” Scarlet didn’t mention that the hellhound had been requested for soon after they arrived. “We did find out the Sinner that owns the building isn’t an Overlord, he’s trying to get there though.”

“Our guy told us about the porno Overlord, Valentine? Whatever, he snubbed this demon, Slicker. Now Slicker wants to get him back but he’s small fry. He’s trying to build up a power base of his own and he figures whoring out a bunch of other demons for cash and deals is the best way to do it.” Vex finished his food before continuing. “There’s Sinners and Hellborn there; the guy we hired is an imp. Not sure what hold this guy has on all his employees but we didn’t want our rented audience suspicious.”

The female imp nodded along. “We can go back in few days if you need more info,” she opined through yawns. “Not too soon or we will look suspicious. But with the tip we gave, pretty sure we’ll be welcome clients while we need to be.”

Blitzø exchanged a look with Loona and Stolas. “The three of us will figure out what to do about this twatstain. You did good guys, better than we hoped.” Stolas agreed and told them to take the day off. As the pair headed off for some overdue sleep, Loona stopped them at the door.

The Hellhound twisted a lock of her hair nervously. “Thank you. Both of you. You stuck your necks out for me and… thanks,” she trailed off.

Vex simply patted her arm (he couldn’t reach her shoulder without climbing) with a comforting expression. Scarlet gave her a soft look saying. “We understand Miss Loona. You’re welcome.”

————

Stella’s favorite Hellhound guard, Aster, gleefully brought her news from her husband’s wing of the palace. She couldn’t assign him to Stolas specifically anymore. He had hated the prince and his little imp slave for years, long before the marriage. He still held a grudge from when the imp had broken his hand and Stolas turned him to stone for days. When Stella joined the household and her distaste for the prince became evident, Aster had quickly offered his services.

So even though he was one of the oldest of the palace security and his black muzzle was turning grey, she still had him on the gate rotation. He brought her every scrap of information he could glean. The hound also was her first choice to manhandle the imp whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Today he had some unusual news. “Stolas’ valet and their favorite maid left the grounds last night. They didn’t get back until just before dawn and went straight to his chambers,” he reported as she delicately speared a bite of ham steak. “The imp stayed overnight again, along with the Hellhound girl.”

“Interesting,” Stella murmured as she selected another bite. “And this just two days after my dear poppet burst into his rooms with the bitch in tow?” Neither Stella nor Aster knew what had been so urgent that Octavia interrupted her father’s dalliance. But the driver and a few servants had seen how distressed the girls were.

Stella had tried to pry information out of her daughter, playing the sympathetic mother. But the girl claimed it had to do with one of the boutiques she had visited and that Stolas already took care of it.

The older woman knew that was bullshit. If anything had happened at one of the fashion houses concerning a Goetia girl, she would have heard about it. But she praised her daughter for getting the situation taken care of and insisted that they go shopping together next time.

This incident was proving that Octavia was much too attached to her father and his slave. Stella needed to have the girl on her side, at least enough that she wouldn’t interfere if something happened to the men.

“See what else you can find out darling. We might be able to turn this to our advantage.” She had claws in many major players of the Pride Ring. She’d gladly call in some favors once she had more specifics to go off of.

Aster nodded, smirking as he sensed the same potential opportunities as his employer. “I’ll see what I can sniff out. One more thing ma’am.” He pulled out an envelope from his inner jacket pocket. “I’ve made some headway finding an independent contractor, as you requested. He’s based in Wrath and despite being an imp, he comes highly recommended.”

Stella opened the envelope and reviewed the short dossier inside. The male imp (actually a mixed demon) had a very country aesthetic from the single photo included. But he had an impressive record and that was only what Aster could confirm.

“Excellent work darling. I have some groundwork to do yet, but retaining this Striker’s services wouldn’t go amiss.” After finishing her meal, Stella dialed the number included in the dossier.

“Yeello?” a thick drawling voice answered. The sound quality was subpar, as if the phone was an old model or had a poor connection.

“Striker.” An affirmative grunt. “I have some work I believe you’ll be interested in darling.”

“Depends on the work and what you’re offerin’ ma’am. I’m always lookin’ for opportunities.” Stella told him what she wanted for starters, named figure for the current job, and hinted at her ultimate goal. “Well, sounds like you were right ma’am; I’d be glad to oblige.”

“Marvelous.”

—————

<<First <Prev Next>

[gaelic-symphony]

And Kitty Makes Three

Written for my dear friend @blackbird-brewster for the @cmgiftexchange

Merry Christmas, Kit!!!! I love you so much and I had a blast writing this for you! 💕💕💕

Words: 1047

Rating: G

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Tara Lewis

Warnings: None

Tara and Emily, now retired from the BAU, decide to expand their family by adopting a cat.

Read on AO3 or below the cut

               Since retiring from the BAU, Tara and Emily had a lot more free time and a lot more space and energy in their lives for new things.  At first, they didn’t quite know what to do with themselves.  Their lives had revolved around work for so long; their entire married life together had been spent traveling around the country and working long hours for the BAU.  Now, Emily was only teaching at the FBI Academy two days a week, and Tara was a freelance FBI consultant they brought in from time to time to do a psychological evaluation or testify as an expert witness.  They had all the time in the world to try new hobbies: Emily started taking guitar lessons, and Tara planted an herb garden in the backyard.  It brought them joy and kept them occupied, but they still wanted more.  They wanted to be needed.

               Children had never really been part of either of their life plans, and even if it had, they were in their fifties now, and the idea of parenting young children at this stage in their life just seemed exhausting.  But the idea of having someone else in their home that they could love and care for together seemed like the perfect way to round out their retirement life.  And so they went to the animal shelter one Friday morning to find their new baby.  They were greeted by a friendly shelter volunteer in brightly colored overalls.

               “Welcome!” they said, “I’m Kit.  What can I help you with today?”

               “I’m Emily, and this is my wife Tara,” Emily said, “We’d like to adopt a cat.”

               “That’s great!” Kit said, “Are you looking for a kitten or an adult cat?”

               “Um, maybe like a young adult?” Tara said, looking to Emily for confirmation.

               “Yeah, definitely,” Emily nodded, “Past the kitten stage, but still has a long life ahead of them.”

               “And do either of you have experience owning cats before?” Kit asked.

               “Um, a little bit,” Emily said, “I had a cat for a little while, but when I got a job overseas I gave him to my friend Penelope.”

               “Okay, well, we’ve got several cats that might be a good fit for your family,” Kit said, “Let’s go meet some!”

               They led Emily and Tara through a door to the kennels where the shelter kept the adoptable cats.  They stopped in front of one of the kennels and coaxed a little white cat to the door.

               “This is Winnie,” they said, “She’s one and a half, and she loves to play.  She’s very energetic—some of the shelter volunteers call her feisty, but I think she just knows what she wants in life!”

               “She’s adorable,” Emily said, holding her hand out for the cat to sniff, “What do you think, babe?”

               “Definitely a cutie pie,” Tara agreed, “But I think we should meet a couple more cats before we pick one.”

               “Of course,” Kit said.  They moved on to another kennel, where a handsome tuxedo cat was curled up in the back corner.  “That’s Mozart,” they said, “He’s very shy at first, but once he warms up to you, he’s the sweetest little guy.”

               “I think we were hoping for a friendlier cat that would get along with our nieces and nephews,” Tara said, “We’re not parents, but we have children over to our house a lot.”

               “Oh, okay,” Kit nodded, “I think I have the perfect cat for you.”

               They led Tara and Emily down to the end of the row of kennels.  A big, fluffy, orange and white tabby perked up as soon as he saw Kit.  He let out a raspy little mewl and trotted up to the door of the kennel.  Tara crouched down and let him sniff her hand.  He purred and rubbed his cheek against the bars of the kennel.

               “This is Sherman,” Kit said, “He’s three years old, and he loves to snuggle.  He might just be the friendliest cat I’ve ever met!”

               “Can we take him out of the kennel?” Emily asked.

               “Sure thing,” Kit said, “There’s a meeting room right through that door.”  They opened the door and picked Sherman up, and brought him into the meeting room to get acquainted with Emily and Tara.

               “What else can you tell us about him?” Tara asked.

               “Well, he’s been in the shelter for a little over a month, after his old owner moved in with a boyfriend who was highly allergic to him.  He got a clean bill of health from our vet, but he’s allergic to dairy, so we have to be careful about the treats we give him.  He likes to play with toys and climb up on things, but he’s pretty mellow, and most of the time he’d rather be snuggling with his people.”

               At this point, Sherman had already curled up next to Emily, purring loudly as she scratched him behind the ear.

               “I love him already!” Emily said.

               “It looks like the feeling is mutual,” Kit laughed.

               “There’s no way we can leave him here,” Tara said, tickling Sherman under his little white chin, “This is our cat.”

               “I’ll go get the paperwork,” Kit said.  They went to the main office to get the adoption paperwork and Sherman’s vet records.  Emily and Tara were still doting on him when they came back.  Kit handed Emily a clipboard and a pen.  “I’ll just need you both to sign this,” they said, “And then he’s all yours.”

               While Emily and Tara read over the forms and signed them, Kit picked up Sherman and put him in the cat carrier Emily and Tara had brought with them.  With all the paperwork signed, Kit handed over the cat carrier to Emily and the vet records and some informational pamphlets for new cat owners to Tara.

               “Okay, Sherman,” they cooed at the cat in the carrier, “You’re gonna go home with your new moms now, buddy!”

               Tara and Emily thanked Kit and carried their new cat out to the car.  Emily held the cat carrier in her lap as Tara drove them both home.  She pulled into the driveway, put the car in park, and turned to look at her wife and cat together.  She smiled and leaned across the center console to give Emily a kiss.  This was their family now: Tara, Emily, and Sherman, and they had many leisurely years of love and joy ahead of them.

[giggles8899]

2.5 Why don't you go out?

Written Part Below the Cut

After the last race, which Xiao won of course, though Heizuo was a close 2nd, you all decide to go to the pasta place together. You manage to squeeze the 5 of you plus Kazuha in your suv, and Childe took everyone else in his suv. Somehow Kazuha got shotgun, while Lumine and Scara got the next row, while Xiao and Aether were all the way in the back. You didn’t ask too much, as the other two pairs seemed happy just talking to their respective other. You look back a few times in the rearview mirror, smiling happily, confirming your suspicion between Lumine and Scara. At one of the red lights, just after looking in the rearview, you hear Kazuha pipe up. 

“You seem happier than before.” As the light turns green, you stare at the road ahead, smiling. “Yeah, I'm just happy for the 4 of them. I'm the oldest out of all of them, and I know of each of their respective problems when it comes to falling in love. I've always put their happiness first, though I know it is not a good thing. But I've always worried for them.” When you finally stop at the pasta place, you unbuckle yourself and look at him. “I guess I'm a sucker for seeing other people happy, even when I can't find my own.” 

You hadn’t realized everyone else in the car had stopped talking and was looking at you. You couldn't see their faces, but they all reflected the same sadness towards you. Your selflessness was both the best and worst part about you. The 4 of them knew that. But they knew that getting you to open up and trust someone after the last guy was going to be what makes or breaks if Kazuha was going to get through.

As the 11 of you, Heizuo couldn't come, tumble into the restaurant, rambunctious laughter coming from all of you, having heard of how the others' car ride went. “Jesus Childe, were you trying to race Y/n,” Yoimiya basically yells, waving her arms frantically. “Dude, I was trying to keep up with her, the map app was acting weird!” He defends arms waving even more frantically, “we got stopped at a light while they went through and I was scared!” You all continue laughing at the two of them, while you sit down at the table, wells tables that the servers had managed to smash together for you all. 

The setting went as follows: you, Scara, Lumine, Aether, Xiao, Childe (who pouted because he could not sit next to Scara), Yoimiya, Albedo, Yanfei, Hu Tao, and then Kazuha, who is sitting next to you. You all managed to get your drinks and appetizers before the conversation turned to one central point. “So Kazuha, you performing at the battle of the bands next month?” Childe asks, swiping a breadstick from Yoimiya, and eating it before she notices. This causes her to tear off half and eat it, causing Childe to scowl and everyone else laugh. “Yes, I am, after the bands perform and a winner is announced, I'm going to be the closing party. Im super excited, it's been a minute since I performed in front of a crowd that big!” Kazuha had a happy gleam in his eyes, as he leaned back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the back corner of your chair, not necessarily intruding on your space, but being right beside it. 

“Ooooooooooooo,” Hu Tao says, “does that mean we're gonna be getting free tickets to it?” Yanfei shakes her head at her girlfriend, “I'm sure he only can get a certain amount of tickets Hu.” “Actually,” Kazuha interjects, looking around at everyone before his eyes fall on you, “I can get as many as I want, since I'm the closing act and all.” “Oooooooo, if you could, we all would like to come, we haven't been to a concert in awhile,” says Lumine’s eyes lighting up, hands clasped together. “Yeah,” says Aether, “That would be totally awesome. I remember when Y/n took us to our first concert, it was amazing!” You shake your head, chuckling, “I dragged you along because both Scara and Xiao were busy. Besides, it was 5 Finger Death Punch, I didn't think you guys liked it that much.” “Hell no,” Aether replies loudly, hands on the table, almost standing up, if it wasn't for Xiao's crossed legs over his. “That was awesome, I've never seen you excited to be somewhere before. It's not often you look like that!” “Yeah, and besides, you got us those matching t-shirts while we were there!” Lumine says, hands clapping together, which you just now noticed her wearing that exact shirt.

 “Well, I didn't know! I mean I dragged Xiao and Scara to a Starset concert. I sure thought I had bored the blueberry over here!” You shrugged. You had looked down and stirred your drink, before being smacked in the head by said blueberry harried man. The smack shocked you and slightly sent you into Kazuha, but you didn't notice really, you were too busy glaring at Scara, who had a slight smirk on his face. After a few seconds of glaring, you put your shoe right on his seat and pushed him, squeaking the chair slightly and sending him into Lumine. As you straighten yourself up, a triumphant smirk on your face, looking at the two of them fumbling trying to get off each other, blushing madly. Everyone else was dying at your antics, especially the other group, not used to you all. 

“We did enjoy it very much, I hope you know that.” Xiao replies, taking a drink of his, his arm across the back of the Aethers chair. You shook your head at those two before going back to your drink. “We should all go together then,” Yoimiya says, “It would be fun!” “Yeah, and we could make a whole day out of it” Yanfei exclaims, her hands on the table, arms linked with Hu Tao. At this point the server comes and takes all of your guys orders and refills your drinks. Childe motions to the waiter, and you swore you heard him tell her that he would pay for everyone. 

“It's in a month right?” you ask, looking at Kazuha now. He nods, a bright smile across his face. Your face droops slightly, “well I can try, but I'm not sure if I'm even going to be able to go, with work and all. I’ve got to work as much as possible to pay rent.” “Oh, you've been able to before, I don't know why you wouldn’t,” Scara replies, looking at you quizzically. You bite your lip nervously, and it takes you a moment before you reply. “Well, there's a really big project coming up. I'm hoping I get to do so I can expand my portfolio even more. And besides, I've already done a lot this year.” Your foot was tapping right next to Kazuha, going up and down rapidly. “This isn't about your anxiety?” Scara asks you pointedly, looking at you the same. At this point, you're stirring your drink frequently.

“Anxiety?” asks Childe, a confused look on his face. You bite your tongue, mouth slightly open, before Lumine speaks up. “Yeah, Y/n has severe anxiety, so she has to watch how much she does and if her mental health is ok.” “Oh, I'm so sorry,” says Yanfei, “It must be rough.” You just shrug, replying, “I've dealt with it most of my life, it's why I practically dash home to play video games to get out of my mind.” The table was slightly somber at this point, everyone from the other group looking at you sadly. Your group has a look of worry across each of their faces, seeing you shut into yourself. You look up and see everyone like this, and your brain starts to shut down. 

“I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” You say hurriedly, getting up and quickly walking away. Kazuha’s eyes watch your retreating form, a sad look across his face. At this point Xiao pipes in, “She’ll be fine, her anxiety is just worse whenever she's like this.” “That's still terrible,” Kazuha replies, looking at everyone, “What made her like that?” At this point, the 4 of them came with a look at each other before Lumine nodded and starts talking. 

Masterlist - PREV - NEXT

Starset and 5 Finger Death Punch are two bands I want to see some point in my life

Anxiety a bitch yo

You besties and your cousins love you but you can get on there nerves sometimes, and you make them worry at times

But random backstory shit in the next chapter

@starryeyedkoko @phyot @tokkishouse @eutopiastar

If you want to be added to the tag list, just send an ask.

[kickbutts-singsongs]

Ooooooh heck yeah let’s do this

1. I think my fav thing that happened was the leaks night when chapter 403 came out and everyone (and me) was going absolutely apeshit over a certain someone’s return and the Eye Contact™️ that was shared so yeah it was just such a thrilling experience and I really felt united with the fandom and overjoyed about Katsuki coming back

2. I started shipping bkdk last year, and funnily enough it all started during the second half of the togachako fight (“You really think I’m cute?” “The cutest girl in the whole world”). I was like that’s gay and then I got tumblr and read togachako metas and went that’s even gayer which then led me to bakudeku metas and that’s when I went oh wait these guys actually make sense oh shit it’s not toxic anymore holy fuck I GET IT NOW

(but if I’m being honest with myself, I subconsciously shipped these guys since the beginning but I was too blind (heteronormative) to see)

(like I made an oc pair that was bkdk coded and went but I don’t ship them irl ahhahaha what I def don’t save bkdk pins on pinterest or read bkdk fics or anything nope izu///ocha all the way guys)

3. The anti bkdk flag

4. Switches (but idk I don’t think about sex all that much lol)

5. Demi Katsuki and Bi Izuku just feel right to me

6. It’s a tie between the apology scene and the epilogue hospital scene

7. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen anything before season seven (I’m currently rewatching) but I think as of late Bones has really been capitalizing on the bkdk material so I’ve been eating good lollllll

8. My list of priorities is as follows:

handhold

dvk 3 (or d&k!!!!)

talk about feelings, romantic or otherwise (may be included in previous event)

crepes/amusement park date

relationship confirmed

9. Honestly? I don’t actually mind if they’re not shown as romantic. As long as it’s established that Katsuki is Izuku’s most important person and vice versa, I’ll be happy (queerplatonic bkdk is my ideal)

10. Nah I can’t imagine these boys with anyone else now they’re like my fav ship of all time!!!

(That being said: if Katsuki didn’t exist, rodydeku would be very cute lol)

11. Uhhhhhhh oh geez I think my top ten gotta be:

“Nobody else (Can take me higher)” by Jeka

“Dear Nikki-san” by blazingeyes

“promises kept” by gabstar

“save your tears” by starless_skies

“The Time Between Our Lives” by Fitzrovia

“in the dark, with you close, I can see” by comradekiwi

“109 Days” by amarisllis

“It’s a Leap of Faith” by SpiritedKaway

“last days of war” by antisora

“A Dangerous Game” by tsukithewolf

12. I mean, the volume 29 cover is pretty hard to beat 💀💀💀 but I think my fav in general is the class 1-A group photo (the one with the blue sky in the background and they’re all standing in front of the school). It’s my home screen lmao

13. I’ve never shipped any couple more than I’ve shipped bkdk

14. I just hope they become hero partners and are confirmed as each others most important person. That’s all I really need.

15. Oh goodness I’m not gonna cry I won’t!!! 😭

These boys mean so much to me, and so does this series. I honestly still can’t believe it’s about to end.

I went from hating Katsuki to absolutely adoring him, and Izuku was the first protagonist I ever felt like I completely related to. He brought me such comfort during the aftermath of the pandemic. Like, I too am sensitive and a crybaby and a nerd, and I verbally process things (mumble), and I had low self-esteem, and I had people in my life call me weak and put me down (and I mayyyy have projected those people onto Katsuki a bit…). And Izuku gave me hope that one day I could be like him, and that I’d rise up against the situations that seemed impossible and beat them anyways, and that the people in my life would eventually realize that they’re wrong about me (and one of them has!🥹).

And seeing these two boys grow and develop (especially after rereading the manga) is just something else. It’s crazy how I went from trying to ignore Katsuki and his hot-headed self to being so invested in his emotions and feelings and his devotion to Izuku like 😭😭😭😭

No matter how this series ends, it’s definitely going to hold a special place in my heart for a long time.

I’m gonna miss these guys so much

Q/A since the series is nearly over (answer any you like via reblog/replies/asks)

What is the best thing you have seen the fandom do since you have become a part of it?

How long have you been a bkdk/dkbk lover and what was the canon moment that made you start shipping them?

3) What is the worst thing or the most pathetic thing you have seen the antis do to try to stop our ship from sailing?

4) Do you prefer top!Bakugou/bottom!Midoriya, top!Midoriya/bottom!Kacchan, or them as switches?

5) What is your sexuality and/or gender headcanon for Bakugou and Midoriya?

6) What is your favorite bkdk/dkbk moment of all time?

7) Which scenes do you think the anime improved on or made worse?

8) How do you wish the series ends and hope bkdk/dkbk's character arc is resolved?

9) How do you headcanon bkdk/dkbk confessing their love and finally becoming romantic partners?

10) If bkdk/dkbk is your otp, do you have a secondary ship? If yes, tell me what it is and why.

11) What are your favorite bkdk/dkbk fanfics? (please send link if you can)

12) Which official art did you like the most and why?

13) Is bkdk/dkbk your favorite ships of all time or do you have another ship you believe to be even better?

14) Do you have any headcanons about future!Midoriya and future!Bakugou?

15) How do you feel about the series as a whole and the long journey Midoriya and Bakugou have gone on?

[venusjeon]

golden arrows

the god Apollo is dared to seduce the first mortal his eyes set upon without revealing his identity, so changing his appearance slightly and taking the name of Hoseok, he crosses paths with you. but as it happens, the only man you say you'd ever lie with is Apollo... also, you're on a quest to steal his golden arrows.

♔ PAIRING: apollo!hoseok x mortal!reader

♔ GENRE: greek mythology, historical & bet au, adventure, fluff, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 9.6k

♔ WARNINGS: religion themes, drinking, swearing, period-typical sexism, animal hunting&sacrifice, nudity, kissing, mentions of non-consensual sex, sex happens but no smut soz, murder

♔ BETA: @yoonoclock <3 thank you so much again !!

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: nvm the fic can we appreciate the banner bc i kinda served with it. no but this has been in my wips for almost as long as i've had this blog so i'm v excited for you guys to read it :D

Heroic Age

Sing to me, ‘o muse, the song of a priestess who was loved by a god willing to forgive her wicked crime.

It was a peaceful night on OLYMPUS, the home of the gods, where everyone had gone to sleep hours ago under a black sky dusted with stars.

Everyone save Apollo, Hermes, and Dionysus, who refused to be parted with their jug of wine that refilled on its own so the party should never end. So much of it had they consumed, though, that even the god of the drink had come to neglect his cup, slumping over the table while his half-brothers slouched on their chairs.

But what they were yet to lose was their sense of humour, as they teased each other about their tragic love lives. Now, it was Apollo’s turn to be taken the piss out of.

“At least the objects of my desire run towards me, not away,” laughed Hermes. “What was that nymph’s name, Daphne?”

Apollo gestured his discrepancy by waving his index finger side to side. “That was the doing of that winged fuck, Eros.” Famously, he had struck Apollo’s heart with an arrow that kindled love and Daphne’s with one that banished it. Pursuing her through the forest until she begged to be turned into a laurel tree to escape his advances, Apollo learned never to get on the wrong side of the god of desire again. “He’s always had it in for me, I tell you.”

“Sure, yes, blame him,” twice-born Dionysus said, cheek still glued to the table. “We can all play that game.”

Hermes nodded. “Admit it, brother, only the thrill of consorting with an immortal draws them to you. And it fades quickly once they realise you can’t pleasure them in bed.”

“Oh, you tell yourself that’s it.”

“I bet you my herald’s staff.”

“Bet what, exactly?” Apollo scoffed. “It’s not like I can stop being a god. Your joke of a point cannot be proved, you fool.”

“Except, it can,” Dionysus said as he sat upright, but Apollo didn’t understand, so he sighed, “Isn’t intelligence supposed to be one of your domains? We’re no strangers to changing our appearance so that mortals can’t recognise us, so seduce the first one you see without revealing your true identity. It will confirm they’re not pretending to love you just because you’re a god.”

“Another of my domains is prophecy, you seem to forget. I can’t lie. Otherwise, who would believe my oracles?” Apollo pointed out, then smirked. “It’s also why I can be trusted when I say you two are my least favourite Olympians.”

He was allowed to joke, right?

“More merit if you succeed. Which you won’t, of course,” Hermes said with a smile shared by Dionysus.

Apollo pursed his lips. He was aware the wine was to blame for his taking offence at the mocking tone of his brothers, but he couldn’t help his own pride.

“Very well. Kiss your staff goodbye.”

He would show them.

Past noon the next day, shining Apollo descended from the summits of Olympus having taken the likeness of a youth whose good looks equalled his—physical attraction was after all a part of love, as was Aphrodite’s other realm, beauty, a part of Apollo’s identity.

He would take the name of Hoseok. It meant ‘a name known throughout the entire country’, so it could perfectly be a new epithet of his, like Phoebus or Delius were. Yes, not a lie. All good. So, Hoseok chose a forest near the city of TEGEA to wander through, hoping to come across someone. That someone was you.

Bowstring drawn and arrow aimed at three sword-wielding men.

Without a second’s delay, Hoseok made appear his golden bow and arrows, known to never miss their archer’s target. Surely coming to your rescue would be a good start? Except... you might need none.

The men were close enough to trust their own weapon outdid yours, failed to consider you’d move fast enough to dodge the sharp edge of their bronze swords and that by grabbing your arrow by its shaft, you’d manage to graze their skin with its tip, forcing them to step back with a grunt.

Unwilling to wait and find out how they’d counterattack, Hoseok nocked and then released his own arrow, which as intended, landed right before their feet in the form of a normal wooden one.

You turned around with a frown. Who–?

“That can’t be fair, three against one?”

The sound of the men fleeing behind you at the sight of this stranger halted your thoughts. His face certainly did too, as well as his bright hair that shone under the sunlight like spun gold. With a satisfied smile, he stored his weapons in the quiver he carried on his back and approached you, chest slightly out as if he owned the forest. From each step he gave seemed to spring a harmony that filled the air, but you still gripped your bow, wary. He noticed. “I mean you no harm.”

Once he was in front of you, Hoseok was able to take a better look at your face, one he instantly liked. What a relief that bet or not, he’d pursue you. However, he also noticed your smile was forced, as though being saved was an inconvenience.

“Good to know. Thank you for the help. I’ve no time to lose but if our paths ever cross again, I promise to repay your favour.”

And just like that, you walked past him.

“Wait!” He turned around to catch up with you once he got over the unforeseeable blow. “Allow me to escort you out of the forest. There may be more bandits lurking about.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

Clearly... He chuckled, “But I might need yours.” Just not for the reason being discussed.

Now that he thought about it, was this the work of Hermes? After all, he was the one in charge of keeping roads and travellers safe, as well as thieves.

You looked him up and down while walking. A man with such a build, he certainly would not need help, and if he wanted something of yours, he could just take it—or try. So he really was just a kind stranger, huh.  “As you wish.”

Hoseok smiled, held hands behind his back. “Tell me, what is your name and where do you come from?”

“I am Y/N, and I’m a priestess of Apollo in PYLOS.” Hoseok almost gasped in delight. Well, this was fate!

Although based on the fact you dressed a man’s knee-length chiton and wore your hair tight up in a subtle bun, he’d sooner have guessed you were a follower of his twin sister, the huntress Artemis. The reason for it was probably that it was safer to travel as a man, but either way Hoseok was fucked. His priestesses were sworn to chastity.

“We are a long way from Pylos.”

“And going further away north-east, I know. I’m… on a quest.” The stranger’s visible intrigue pressured you into providing some context, “My younger brother Jungkook is a servant at the royal palace, and two days ago he was charged with treason for trying to murder the prince, of which I believe he is innocent. We weren’t allowed to speak but he’s a sweet boy, such evil would never cross his mind. He’s being kept in a cell now, awaiting an execution only I can prevent, for the king said he’d be pardoned if in seven days I brought him Apollo’s golden arrows...”

Hoseok had to stop himself from making a dramatic halt. If Jungkook was indeed as innocent as you claimed, you could pray for him to aid your brother either by lending you the arrows or making the king see reason. You needn’t be on a quest. Unless, “You mean to steal them.”

“I’ve no choice,” you said bitterly with your eyes cast down, ashamed all the same. Priestesses were supposed to honour the gods, yet you were about to rob one of them, yours. It was a blasphemous defiance, hubris, but also the only way to save Jungkook. You glanced at the stranger, wondered whether he was contemplating stopping you. “I bet you regret scaring those three robbers away earlier. It is odd that I haven’t rightfully been struck down already with a golden arrow shot from the Heavens for what I’m about to do. I know I’d deserve it.”

Hoseok understood your hands were tied. It was not you whom his anger was directed at, but the king, for sending you off on such a mission. He’d deal with him.

First, though, came you. No matter your circumstances, you were the first mortal he’d seen, and he’d already decided where to display Hermes’ staff in his palace in Olympus.

“Maybe Apollo has looked into your heart and seen it is pure, and will punish that who is making you do this instead. If only you pray so to him.”

You scoffed. “I think he has more important things to do than listen to the prayers of a nobody.”

A nobody? But you were one of his priestesses! There were few mortals dearer to him.

“I assume, then, that you’re headed to CORINTH.”

“Correct. I’m to catch a ship there to cross the gulf. But enough about me. What do they call you, and why do you find yourself in this forest?”

A forest that, you’d failed to notice, was crowded. Nymphs of nearby trees, flowers, lakes, and springs, all gathered to stare at Hoseok in awe as he walked. Animals too. They could see his ethereal self under his disguise, yet dared not approach him, hiding instead from your sight. Were he not busy, he wouldn’t mind lying there to sing and play the lyre for them.

“I am Hoseok, and my brothers… want me to meet a girl. I was on my way to her.”

“A girl? Do you mean, to take as wife?”

Hoseok astutely answered the first question only, “Yes. I’m told she will likewise be in Corinth.”

“If you can keep up, I’d not mind a travel companion.” Hoseok was about to say keeping up was not a problem with him when he realised the animals were dispersing and the nymphs forming a crowd ahead. You followed his gaze and groaned. “Another obstacle? Who am I, Theseus?”

Hoseok laughed, “Every hero faces challenges.”

Thief, rather. Though being called hero did make a flush creep across your cheeks… until reaching the hubbub, where all colour drained from them. The nine Muses were there, a youth knelt and clasping the knees of one of them in the manner of a supplicant.

“Please,” he begged, “I didn’t mean it, it was just a jest!”

They weren’t moved by his tears. “All here heard you set yourself above shining Apollo, speak ill of him. It is only fitting your mouth be sewn shut with a lyre’s string as punishment.”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows, amused. Nice one. He wished he could be there in his real form to do the job himself. But seeing you attempt to gulp the lump in your throat beside him, he could tell you were horrified. Did you fear to share the same fate? You would, in truth, had Hoseok caught you trying to steal his arrows, but now that he knew your justification and was set on seducing you, a different future was to be woven by the Moirai.

He whispered in your ear, “I think I dropped my bag of coins back where we met. I promise I won’t be long.”

You sighed, “I’ll watch the spectacle in the meantime.” To know what to expect when your time came…

The fair-voiced Muses recognised Hoseok as he left, pretended not to. If he was undercover, he must have a reason, and they wouldn’t out him. They weren’t surprised when he returned as Apollo.

He appeared out of nowhere, the god you planned to slight, so beautiful your eyes almost hurt as when one looks at the sun—radiance shone from his head, his curly hair so bright that a golden crown must camouflage in it under the sunlight, much like Hoseok’s. Guilt stung your heart when his gaze found yours and he smiled warmly.

Apollo then turned his attention to the kneeling youth, who’d begun to sweat. “What do we have here?”

“This boy boasted he was a better musician than you.” The Muses laughed, and you almost did too. It was a ridiculous claim.

“Did he?” Apollo’s good mood seemed untempered. “Well, I’ve no time for a music competition, so shall we just agree you’re in the wrong?”

The youth was quick to nod, yet dared not look away from the ground. “Y-Yes, Phoebus!”

“Do you regret your crime?”

“Awfully, lord, I do!”

“Well, tempted as I may be to make an example of you, today I’m feeling merciful. You’re forgiven.”

There was a pause in which the whole forest fell silent, asking themselves if they’d heard right. A god letting pass an act of hubris was unprecedented. You held the air in your lungs, unsure whether to release it in relief, as this might just mean your venture wasn’t doomed.

“Forgiven?” Even the Muses were dumbfounded.

“It’s not often mortals show remorse, so as long as they do, there’s no need for harsh punishment. Especially if they’re pretty.” Apollo glanced at you, making your lips part, before turning around to face the youth again. “Pour a libation for me and we’ll call it a day, eh?”

Later, long-winged Selene was pulling the moon behind her from the chariot she drove in the sky to bring the night when thanks to Zeus’ sacred laws of hospitality, xenia, an old couple near ARGOS was happy to feed you dinner and provide a bed for you to sleep in—one you’d have to share, which was absolutely fine and not the cause of your arisen nerves.

But once lying on it, the tension in your muscles weakened as you listened to Hoseok play a soothing melody on a lyre he’d found in a chest, and a faint smile settled on your lips.

“This song… I once heard Apollo play it,” you confessed. Given Hoseok was the author of it and had taught it to no one yet, he frowned. He was certain he’d never met you before that day, so how could you have heard him play it?

“When?”

“I was a child. Jungkook and I were playing in the forest outside of Pylos when we heard it. We followed the sound and found Apollo sat against a rock with all sorts of animals surrounding him, listening to him play and hum. It was lovely.”

Even though the gods were known to harshly punish mortals who spied on them, Hoseok smiled too. He played often for the animals, so he didn’t know which specific day you were talking about, but he was glad it served as a happy memory that eased your journey into the embrace of sleep. Although it probably had to do more with your brother.

Hoseok couldn’t blame you, as he also loved his sister deeply, had even slain a divine creature for his mother once. Family was as important to you as it was to him and for that very reason, he realised then that Hermes’ staff was already lost to him. There was nothing else you could afford to care about.

Little did you know, there was nothing else Hoseok chose to care about but you.

Early the next morning, you reached Argos, only that you went around instead of through it.

The great city wasn’t closed, but the old couple had warned you Apollo had stung its citizens with his arrows of pestilence because their queen had neglected him in her devotion, sacrificing to all the gods but him. She should’ve accounted for the detail that while one of his sides was healing and medicine, the other was plague and disease.

Hoseok didn’t regret it. It was her fault her people were suffering. But the grim look on your face when you’d been told… He knew the news had cancelled out the hope born inside you yesterday and that you’d immediately asked yourself that if he’d done that over some sacrifices, what would he do to you for stealing from him?

Midway through the day, while hunting for lunch, he decided to lighten the mood.

“But why not? Most priestesses don’t serve for life!”

A part of you hoped Hoseok was exaggerating his dismay at your refusal to marry not to make you laugh, but so you wouldn’t suspect it was in fact real– No. There was no sense to that thought. Where did it even come from? You were a priestess, he was to be married, and you didn’t know each other.

“My family would have to come up with a dowry and they can’t afford it.”

“I think any is a small price to pay for a man to keep your bed warm.”

Oh… so that was it? He was indignant you wouldn’t know such pleasures? You’d never craved them, honestly, rather thought they were only possible for men. Interesting. But not important right now, as opposed to the rabbit moving about in that bush. Nocking an arrow on your bow, you whispered, “The only man I’d ever care to sleep with anyway is Apollo."

Hoseok felt smug for a second, as he followed your step, then reminded himself this was bad. You were supposed to fall for him, not Apollo. “I’m sure every man back in Pylos prays daily that you quit priesthood.”

A snort betrayed you and the rabbit darted away from the bush, so seizing the chance, you released the arrow and assured lunch. “Thanks Apollo!”

“Don’t mention it–” During the short duration of a missed beat, Hoseok’s heart had forgotten that it was common for mortal archers to thank him, the god of archery, when they hit their targets. Sweet merciful Zeus! Why was he on edge? “Uh… D-Don’t mention his name. We don’t want to summon him, do we?”

Before heading to the lifeless rabbit, you nodded, figuring he was right. “I reckon you can’t wait to meet the girl your brothers want you to marry.”

Hoseok didn’t follow after you, instead watched as you picked up the rabbit and struggled to remove the arrow from its body on your way back to his side. By your tone, he could swear you’d spoken from a place of jealousy, distant as though it may be.

“I find I wouldn’t mind if the trip to Corinth lengthened.”

You looked up once near enough to tell him you would, but the words flew away from your mind the moment your eyes landed on him.

Hoseok was pleased he’d taken this appearance. You were mesmerised, eyes narrowing, likely wondering how you hadn’t noticed until now how attracted you were to him!

Or not. “You’ve a spider crawling up a curl.”

Hoseok was starting to think Hermes and Dionysus were right… The warmth of his divine presence tended to do the job for him, his wit and charm really played a secondary role. Now, he was forced to give up the former, but you, Hoseok feared, were proving to be either immune to the latter or remarkably good at pretending so.

Or maybe it was his fault fully… Just, why the hell did he get so nervous around you?! It was like he couldn't muster a grain of confidence. He’d have to make an effort for the first time not just to flirt, but finish a conversation feeling like he had things under control. That he was in charge.

It wouldn’t help that he wasn’t used to being treated as an equal by a mortal. Much less given commands. ‘Skin the rabbits while I gather some wood’, ‘Burn the fat and bones as a sacrifice to Artemis, will you?’... Even when he’d offered you his share because he, as an immortal, didn’t need food to survive, you’d responded with an assertive ‘Eat’. Not to say he didn’t like it. It was amusing, in a way.

But passing by a small lake fed by a waterfall, Hoseok decided it was his turn.

“Fancy a swim?”

“Sure. And to be fed grapes, while I’m at it,” you chuckled, under the impression Hoseok was joking until you turned around and saw him getting rid of his chiton. Your eyes widened like those of Athena’s owl at the sight of his bare body, looked away only once you’d fought through your shock. “My brother’s life is at stake. If you wish to stay, then this is goodb–”

“Oh, come on, just a quick dive. When was the last time you bathed?”

“Back in Pylos.”

“Thought as much.” You discreetly smelled yourself and at once agreed hygiene shouldn’t be neglected. There was just one thing… and by the way you kept quiet, Hoseok noticed. “What, you’re afraid of water?”

“Not water itself, but drowning.” You played with your fingers, embarrassed to say, “I can’t swim…”

A loud laugh made you snap your head towards its source to see Hoseok approach you naked without any shame. To your own surprise, your feet rooted to the ground instead of stepping back as he promised, “I’ll hold you.”

Never would you have imagined you’d strip naked before a stranger and get in a lake with him, but there was something about him that inspired trust. You knew he wouldn’t take advantage, his gaze keeping away from your private parts proved it so. When the two of you slipped into the water, Hoseok kept a firm grip on your waist, even though you managed to touch the bottom if you stood on your tiptoes. For a second you wished you didn’t, so he could hold you even closer…

“Loosen up, Y/N, you’re as taut as a bowstring,” he said in a low voice, as he was so close he needn’t be loud, and you swallowed hard while nodding.

He next told you to move your limbs about and before you knew it, you were swimming and splashing him and giggling.

The dark began to skew the sky with stars sooner than expected, though, and you blamed the pleasant time spent at the lake for it. You were supposed to sleep in Corinth, where the festival of Aphrodisia was being celebrated, but the city was so far that you were going to miss your ship at dawn!

Luckily, Hoseok had a plan.

While you were picking up some flowers to present to foam-born Aphrodite for lack of a proper offering, he snuck away into the forest, somewhere you wouldn’t hear him summon his kin. A mention of Selene’s name was enough for the goddess to have her white horses land before Hoseok.

Elbow resting on the edge of her chariot and palm holding her jaw, Selene sighed, “I’m busy, Apollo, in case you haven’t noticed. Night doesn’t just come on its own.”

“Speaking of which, I need you to hold back the moon until we get to Corinth, me and–”

“Your priestess, yes.” Selene smirked when Hoseok frowned. “It gets boring up there. One resorts to gazing down, and your lame attempts at seducing this girl provide the funniest distraction.”

“Will you help me, or not?”

Selene laughed, “Gladly.”

And so it was that you reached Corinth before midnight, hair however completely dry as the day had lengthened by many hours. You could piece together no explanation for it, so it had to be what Hoseok mused, that the gods must be making mischief.

Despite the late hour, the streets were crowded with pilgrims who sang hymns to the goddess of love and beauty, and every column of every building was entwined with flowers. The air was also perfumed with the scent of cinnamon but as a priestess, you knew that was to mask the spilled blood of the animals being sacrificed outside the great Temple of Aphrodite, that you entered to leave your modest offering.

Hoseok waited outside, and scoffed when he spotted a familiar face dancing in the crowd, a garland crowning his head. It was the mighty messenger Hermes—or Taehyung, as he liked to address himself when mingling among the mortals in such form.

“Didn’t take you for a faithful follower of Aphrodite’s, little brother,” Hoseok laughed when they stood face to face.

“Well, you know her. She’s likely to welcome me back into her bed if I sing her praises. Literally.” Taehyung looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, made appear his herald’s staff out of thin air. “I hope you haven’t forgotten about our bet? Your priestess will die of old age before you make a move on her.”

“Love isn’t born in a day,” Hoseok retorted in his defence, ignoring Taehyung counting to two with his fingers. “Besides, she’s on a mission of her own, it isn’t currently a prime concern of hers. Be patient, I have no deadline.”

"Even all the time in the world won’t be of help to you, Hoseok.” Taehyung patted his shoulder before joining the dancing crowd again.

Soon, you walked out of the temple and came to a stop in front of Hoseok, too quiet. He frowned.

“What is it?”

You looked everywhere but at him. “She must be waiting for you, the girl you seek to wife.”

Ah, jealous? “I think she’ll be pleased if I keep you company until your ship sets sail tomorrow. Make sure no harm comes to you.”

Since you did want to be with Hoseok for a bit longer, the corners of your mouth quirked into a smile.

The night was spent in a cloud of food, drink, dance, song, and laughter. You loved Jungkook dearly, but it was alleviating to set aside the anxiety suffered for his fate, as well as yours. Wine was good at that, casting away all the bad from one’s mind.

At some point, Hoseok decided it was bedtime. Relying on xenia and the generosity of strangers, he knocked on the first door he saw and a family surely opened it to welcome you in. They showed you to a spare room after some chatting and the second you were alone, you wrapped your arms around Hoseok’s neck and made your lips join.

He was taken aback, but readily licked both your lips before kissing you back ardently, like you were the goddess and he your worshipper. You closed the distance between your bodies to melt into his warm embrace. Hoseok knew you craved him inside, so as a tease, he slipped his tongue in your mouth when you relaxed your jaw and slid it across yours as his cock would. That caused you to moan, and your core pulsate with lust. This might be one of your last nights alive, so why not treat it as such and give in to your desires? To the sweet passion Hoseok stirred inside you?

You would’ve, had he not suddenly pulled back.

Your mouth tried to seek his, even let out a few whines, but he wasn’t having it. Why? Why too did he look like he was suppressing annoyance?

Hoseok did want to savour every sweet bit of you, but what he��d tasted on your tongue was an abundance of Dionysus’ wine. In truth, he only needed take a look at you, so drunk you could barely stand, supporting your weight on him not to stumble. Hoseok sighed.

As a god, he wasn’t subjected to the laws of man. They didn’t apply to him, nor did their morality, so plundering you in that state wasn’t a crime. Mortals were created out of clay to serve the immortals and be playthings to them… and yet Hoseok wanted to earn your love. Not because of the bet, which meant less to him the more time he spent with you, but because he was catching feelings himself.

Besides, none of this was real to begin with. You were just convinced you were going to die, hence why you were doing what you normally wouldn’t.

“Not like this, Y/N.” And carefully, he led you to the bed, where you fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

Your eyes fluttered open when Selene’s sister Eos cast open the gates of dawn.

An ache grounding into your temples, you sat up only to realise the other side of the bed was empty, thanked the gods for it when memories of the previous night resurfaced and embarrassment drowned you. What had you done?

And more urgently, what time was it?

You couldn’t risk missing that ship, so you slapped your own cheek—yes—and pulled yourself together, dismissing every thought that didn’t include Jungkook before joining the family for a quick yet lively breakfast.

The walk to the port was however a quiet one, where neither you or Hoseok seemed to know how to get rid of the awkwardness, and because of that, it was disconcerting when he held your hands once stood by the ship you were to embark, so tenderly like they were injured and he didn’t want to hurt you.

“I want to come with you.”

It took you a second to react. “No. We don’t both need to suffer the wrath of a god.”

“But I won’t let you die.”

You withdrew your hands, smiling wistfully. “My death is not for you to impede.”

Hoseok bit his tongue. “Have faith. We will meet again.”

Sailing away you pondered over how, if you ever did see Hoseok again, it would be as a married man. You’d rather rot in the depths of Hades’ dead kingdom.

For the moment, you prayed Poseidon was in a good mood and his waters remained peaceful as fortunately, your destination was another: the home of the Muses, as the cave in MOUNT PARNASSUS was known to be, and the place where Apollo’s golden bow and arrows were safeguarded when he had no need for them.

Merely crossing the gulf of Corinth would take you a full day, so in the meantime, Hoseok set off to Pylos. He wanted to get to the truth of the matter.

He found your brother guarded only by bronze bars, snuggled up on the cold floor of the palace’s underground cells. Apollo squatted next to him to tuck behind his ear the fluffy dark hair that covered his face, and a whisper of Jungkook’s name was enough to waken him.

Indeed, it was wide awake how he screamed and cowered at the corner of the cell.

“It’s been but four days, the king said I had seven! You can’t execute me yet, whatever the prince says!”

“I’m no executioner, Jungkook. I’m Apollo.”

“The new cook?”

“The Olympian!”

“Oh…” Yes, he should’ve guessed it was absurd for the palace’s new cook to come greet him in his cell. Wait– Did this man say he was Olympian Apollo? Jungkook rubbed the remaining sleep off his eyes and wondered how he could not have recognised those shiny blond curls! “Oh.”

The god barely stifled an eye-roll. “I’m here to hear what happened. Tell me, and know that I’ll see a shadow behind your words if you lie.”

Jungkook gulped. “I was wrongly accused, lord. It is the prince who should be sentenced to death.”

Apollo cocked his head to a side. “The prince?”

“I’m his serving boy. The other day, I overheard him plot against the king with his stepmother. Everybody knows they’re having an affair… Well, everybody but the king, of course. I was going to warn His Grace, but the prince caught me and claimed I was the one behind the plot. The king decided that I’d be executed in four days from now if my older sister Y/N failed to bring him–” Jungkook shut his lips at once.

“My golden arrows.”

Oh, no. He knew of your quest? “Y/N is a priestess of your temple here in Pylos! She’s devoted to you, of all the heavenly gods fears your wrath most!”

“I know.” Apollo stood up and gave him a reassuring smile. “As I know you are telling me the truth.”

At nightfall, you arrived in DELPHI, heart hammering its way through your chest, as on the morrow you’d reach Mount Parnassus and carry through your blasphemous theft.

The nerves were clearly not going to let you sleep, so there was no point in making use of Zeus’ xenia. Instead, you were waiting for the change of guards at the entrance of the great Temple of Apollo—where the high priestess Pythia served as an oracle uttering prophecies under divine possession—so you could sneak in. Once inside, you walked to the end of the naos only to kneel before a tall statue of Apollo that made no justice to his ethereal beauty, and raised your hands into the air with your eyes closed.

“Hear me, child of Leto, he who presides over this temple! If ever I’ve served you in the past, if ever you’ve loved your sister as I love my brother and would do anything for him, grant my prayer and… do take out your vengeance on me. But not tomorrow when I rob you of your arrows, only after I have saved my Jungkook from the sword. Please, heed me!”

“I’ve never known anyone so foolish as to announce to a god her plan to steal from him.”

Your eyes snapped open to see the Pythia lurking in the shadows behind the statue. Shit.

Coming to your feet, you wanted to reach for your quiver and cut her life short before she alerted the guards. You were in a sacred place, but what was one more unforgivable sin?

What stopped you were Apollo’s own lethal weapons, his golden arrows, magically appearing in her hands.

“Phoebus has cursed them. Any who isn’t him and uses them will perish,” the Pythia explained flatly, as if she was hearing his voice in her head and repeating them out loud. “He wants you to give them to your king.”

She handed you the arrows, at which you stared astounded. Apollo knew? Had heard your prayers?

“What of my fate?”

“No harm will come to you by his hand, or any other,” she promised. “You’re under his protection now.”

Tears quickly flooded your eyes and then streamed down your cheeks. Your shaky breath morphed into a laugh and your laugh into a sob, all out of relief. Hoseok randomly crossed your mind, and the next question you didn’t know whether was addressed to the Pythia or yourself. “But why?”

She approached and cupped your cheeks, using her thumbs to wipe your tears gently. Even if you neither knew nor trusted her, you didn’t step back. Her touch was warm, felt strangely familiar…

“Because he’s looked into your heart and seen his light.”

Apollo was done with Hoseok for the moment. Or so he’d thought.

He’d meant to watch you from the clouds save your brother and be done with the ‘tomorrow I may die, so I’ll behave like nothing matters because nothing does’ cast of mind. He wanted to matter to you, to be loved by you.

Alas, his hopes and dreams were crushed.

The fifth day of your quest you spent sailing back to Corinth, but your sixth one, you finished entering Argos. Now, why in Hades would you do that?! Death dwelled in that city, had you forgotten? Or mayhap… you feared not disease, after being told Apollo would protect you.

Alright. He’d make you invulnerable like Achilles, then. No problem. He was about to when he saw two guards suddenly arrest you for no apparent reason in the middle of the street and drag you to the palace. Immediately, Apollo took the appearance of Hoseok and stormed off from Olympus—though really not that bothered in view of the fact that it meant he got to meet you again.

You, however, weren’t sure you were glad to see him. Not there, at least.

“Y/N, what a coincidence!” he joked before the guard manhandling him into the throne room forced him on his knees next to you. “Do you buy your vegetables here too?”

“Who is this?” the queen asked annoyed.

She was standing in front of the two of you, a small crowd of courtiers gathered as an expectant audience that seemed to be about to watch some spectacle. If only you knew what it was about. You’d been shoved there with no explanation, were about to demand one right before Hoseok showed up.

“He says he’s her companion, Your Grace.”

The queen frowned. “But the prophecy spoke of one only…”

Hoseok quelled a frown. Prophecies passed through him, and there was none yet that involved Argos. No, the city was supposed to suffer until he saw fit.

You, on your part, had had enough. Had wasted enough time. “I command you let us go right now! You’ve no reason to detain us!”

The queen scoffed, looking down both at and on you. “You command me, brat? I’d order your death if you weren’t already destined to have your throat slit at the sacrificial altar.”

What? In dismay, you turned to a Hoseok who seemed to not fear the queen of Argos at all, rather looked at her suspiciously.

“Perhaps if you were as kind as to tell us why, Your Grace,” he asked, disdain hidden behind his faked respectful tone. The queen wasn’t blind to it, but let it pass, choosing to just glare at him.

“Over the smallest thing, Apollo has cursed the whole of Argos with a plague. My seer claims the only way to appease his anger is to sacrifice in holy ritual the one person who dares enter the city.”

Hoseok almost laughed. Her seer was a fraud.

“Your Grace!”

Before you could even whip your head around, a guard had snatched the golden arrows from your quiver and walked over to the queen. You tried to stand up to retrieve them, but another guard held you down.

“What have we here?” The queen realised whom the arrows belonged to the second she had a closer look, gasped in shock. “It cannot be! Are these–”

“Mine.”

Everyone, including you, stared at Hoseok in disbelief.

The queen faced him. “So, you’re the thief?” Oh, no, of course! He didn’t know what had happened in Delphi, believed you’d stolen the arrows and would be punished by anyone who found out… Fool. Why would he cover for you? “Well, well. Apollo’s stolen weapons returned and a double human sacrifice… My loyal subjects, tomorrow Argos is saved!”

A loud cheer erupted, one you could still hear from the dark cell you and Hoseok were taken to by guards who then left to celebrate, trusting the bars to do their job.

You joined your palms and forehead with the wall, mumbled, “What use is your protection now that I’m stuck?” Hoseok knew that question was addressed at Apollo. The next one, however, asked as you turned around and walked up to him, was loud and clear and meant for Hoseok. “And what are you doing here? Are you mad?”

He flinched back, confused. Weren’t you happy to see him? “I came for you.”

You wanted to ask ‘What about the plague?’, but what instead came out was, “What about the other girl?”

Other… So you already considered yourself his?

Hoseok gazed into your eyes as he confessed, “My brothers wanted me to meet a girl, and I have.”

Your lips parted slightly. He’d turned down a possible bride in favour of you? He was mad. Mad enough to return whatever feelings you were struggling to suppress. You turned away from him, arms crossed. “A girl who’ll lead you to your death.”

Neither of you was dying tomorrow, Hoseok would sooner kill the whole of Argos than let anyone lay a finger on you.

“A girl who’d love me.”

Frozen in your spot, you daren’t turn around. Love was a strong word, and you’d known this man for just a few days. Eros’ arrow can’t have pierced your skin! Although… you couldn’t deny it must have grazed or scratched it.

“I don’t, I’m a priestess. What happened the other night… was a mistake. I’m sorry, I regret it.”

Since you weren’t looking, Hoseok allowed his lips an ironic smile. He could tell you were lying, trying to convince yourself rather than him. “You can both love Apollo and be in love with me.”

Shocked, you turned around. “Are you asking me to risk my position in order to what, be your lover?”

“It’s the gods who’ve brought us together,” Hoseok explained, walking closer. You held your breath, “who’ve shut the gates of my mind so I can think only of you. I believe the gods wouldn’t put your position in peril.”

And true that was. Priestesses were supposed to be spouses of the deities they served, so once Hoseok revealed his identity, you’d be relieved to learn your vow of chastity hadn’t been broken, as he was the only one it didn’t apply to.

You glanced down at his lips, then shook your head as though resisting a spell. “In my mind, there is only Jungkook.” The cell wasn’t too spacious, but out of stress you still paced around it. “And now we’ll die apart because I trusted a god who may have tricked me.”

Hoseok chuckled in the middle of the deep breath you were taking to calm down.

“You didn’t think I came here without a plan?” He walked over to put his hands on your shoulders and give them a gentle squeeze, putting an end to your pacing. “I’ll do everything in my power to reunite you with your brother. Do you trust me?”

You remembered when he told you to have faith you’d meet again. And you had. Besides, what other choice was there? “I do.”

Hoseok let go of you and went to lie down on the small bed, hands behind his head and eyes closed. “Then we’ll have to wait a couple of hours.”

You stared at him. He really didn’t want to just bed you, was actually looking out for you in a way Apollo was failing to. Or maybe he had sent him… Either way, Hoseok meant not to demand your love but deserve it, making your problems his like you shared a soul and body—and his, you realised then, you no longer wanted to resist.

“A couple of hours?” Hoseok nodded. “Well… it’s cold.”

“It is?”

You sighed, not knowing how to say it. “You once told me any is a small price for a man to keep your bed warm.”

Hoseok opened his eyes before the sentence was over and propped himself up on one elbow. You sat on the edge of the bed, a trembling hand rising that shyly caressed his cheek until he placed his own over it, and pressed a bit harder so you could really feel him, how hot his divine silver blood—known as ichor—was turning. You did, flashes of the night you kissed him making it into your mind. How his lips felt around yours, his tongue inside your mouth, your bodies pushed together…

Both leaned in at the same time, melting in a kiss that led to a night of pleasure dedicated to Aphrodite.

Meanwhile, Dionysus was doing his part.

Having taken the form he liked to call Jimin, he’d pretended to be a cupbearer at the feast the queen of Argos had held to celebrate the end of her punishment. No one noticed he didn’t belong as he poured his special, unmixed wine into the cups of every person in attendance, masking its strong taste with his powers. In a matter of hours, the whole court had lost their senses and passed out where they were, as mortal parties tended to finish in the presence of the god of intoxication.

Satisfied, he skipped his way to the cells, where he found you and Hoseok all cuddled up, skins glowing with the vigour you had loved each other with.

Jimin waved his hand and the cell’s door opened slowly, as though by a draft, but you turned around at once to see no one. “The gods be praised!”

Only seen and heard by a Hoseok who kept gesturing him to leave behind your back, Jimin laughed, “Dionysus, specifically.”

He disappeared then, and you and Hoseok didn’t hesitate to get out of there. What you did hesitate to believe was what your eyes witnessed once, in search of Apollo’s confiscated golden arrows, you entered the banquet hall. A whole court in the arms of Morpheus…

“There they are,” Hoseok whispered not to wake anyone, pointing at the end of the table, where the queen sat and in front of whom the arrows lied.

He walked over to get them, staring at the woman responsible for so much offence. Shielding the action with his body so you wouldn’t see, Hoseok grazed her arm with the tip of one of his sharp arrows, drawing blood. That was enough for her breath to still, her life to end.

You made it safely outside the city, near the house of the elderly couple who’d hosted you days past, even, but at some point you looked up at the moon and halted your rushed pace a tad abruptly, forcing Hoseok to do so as well since you were holding hands.

He frowned. “I don’t think this is the time to sightsee, Y/N.”

“But what’s the point?” you cried. “Pylos is more than two days away. There’s no way we can get there before sunrise.”

Hoseok looked up at the sky behind you, smiled. “Indeed. Though we might get there at the same time.”

You turned around for a peach-coloured sunlight to filter through the clouds and blind you.

Hold on, how could this be? It had been night for only some hours! And yet, before the two of you landed her chariot Selene’s sister, the rosy-fingered Eos. You held Hoseok’s hand tightly. In the presence of a goddess, one could not help but feel tense.

“You, child. Are you Y/N of Pylos?”

“I am, l-lady.”

She smiled kindly. “I’ve been sent to give you a ride, Y/N. I believe your king expects you.”

Relief washing over, you grinned at Hoseok, who caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. “This must be Apollo’s doing!”

“Must be, yes.”

You turned back to Eos and nodded. “Off we go, then, lady.”

In about twenty minutes, people in front of the palace of Pylos were making space for the white horses to land their chariot.

Everyone stared in awe. Doubtless they’d thought you were going to fail, yet here you were escorted by a goddess, with Apollo’s golden arrows in your quiver, and… a foreign man holding your hand?

Once Eos had flown away to drag along the dawn to the West, you discerned on the judgemental faces of the Pylians the conclusions they had jumped to. Conclusions that were correct. You had given your virginity to a stranger, become a whore in the eyes of the world…

Hoseok was the one who let go of the hand he’d been holding ever since you lay together, and you missed his touch right away, like it was the air your lungs needed to breathe. He put some distance between you and with a respectful bow of his head—that was just for show—said, “After you, priestess.”

Eager to hold Jungkook in your arms again, you nodded, then led the way to the throne room.

The second you walked in, all heads turned to the king, who was sat on his throne on the top of some steps, looking at you in the same shocked manner everyone was. Nobody dared say a word. The only sounds in the room were first that of your feet taking you in front of the steps, Hoseok closely behind, and second that of you reaching into your quiver to get hold of the arrows.

The king leaned forward as though spellbound by the beauty of the deadly weapons, without taking his eyes off them ordered a guard, “Bring the boy.”

You turned to smile at Hoseok and he smiled back, but once you’d directed your attention to the door, he continued glaring at the greedy king. He obviously believed luck was on his side, given you’d come back from a suicide mission with a prize for him, but he’d soon learn the gods were not to be fucked with.

“Y/N!” Jungkook exclaimed as the guard dragged him into the throne room. Having eyes only for your brother, you didn’t notice the prince and his stepmother arrived next and took the king’s side while sharing worried looks. Hoseok did, sensed they feared Jungkook would reveal their plot now that he wasn’t going to be executed. You were about to go make sure he was alright, but the king’s voice stopped you.

“Uh-uh. The arrows first.”

Apollo’s curse in mind, you carefully presented them to him. Hoseok watched as he examined them while you ran to embrace Jungkook free of impediment, then passed them on to his son.

Who wasted no time in stabbing his neck with one of them.

Gasps and screams tore the silence apart, echoing as if they came from the stage of a theatre. In fairness, you might as well be in a tragedy play.

Shielding Jungkook with your body out of instinct, you kept still not to draw the gloating prince and his stepmother’s attention, eyes wandering to a Hoseok who otherwise walked over to you without a care for the blood crime just committed. The murder of one’s relatives was against the natural order, punished by the Erinyes themselves. Fortunately for the prince, he wouldn’t be tormented by the goddesses of vengeance, as the curse was already doing its work, causing him to choke in the midst of a speech in which he was declaring himself the new king of Pylos.

To everyone’s confusion but yours, he fell down the steps, lifeless before reaching the floor. His stepmother and lover shrieked, knelt beside him to try to shake him awake, but to no avail. It was then when she found you among the courtiers and through her tears and grief, glared at you.

“What have you done?!” she shouted, Hoseok alone noticed, surreptitiously curling her fingers around the shaft of one of the golden arrows scattered about. “I’ll have your head for this!”

What followed happened so quickly that you had little time to react.

Arrow raised in a fist, the queen lunged herself at you, but Hoseok stopped her right before she reached you by grabbing her wrist, and as she fought to free herself, he received a small cut on the hand. Eyes wide with horror, you gasped.

No.

No, no, no, no…

“Is his blood silver?” Jungkook whispered to himself, and after a second his words transformed from a distant, incoherent echo to a clear question. Upon realising he was right, you frowned.

Hoseok snatched the arrow from the queen and she stumbled backwards, glancing at the guards.

“Come to the aid of your queen, I command you!”

Despite their reluctance, they were going to, but froze when Hoseok nocked the arrow on his bow and this one turned from wooden to gold before their eyes… and not just that.

Something changed about his appearance. Was it the hair? The eyes? You couldn’t tell. It was subtle enough to miss it yet substantial enough to know that your Hoseok was actually a god in disguise.

No other than Apollo, in all his glory!

As you blinked a few times trying to make sense of it, he aimed his arrow at the queen, and playing deaf to her pleas, slew her. Of course, his curse wouldn’t apply to an immortal.

When he turned around, a sea of courtiers fell to their knees, but he cared only about you, standing there in shock. Suddenly taking pity, he didn’t look forward at all to telling you he’d tricked you because of a bet…

A man thankfully rose to his feet and approached him before he had the chance to open his mouth. “Heavenly lord! You’ve blessed Pylos with your presence to free us from a family unworthy of our throne. Tell us, what can we ever do to thank you?”

Hoseok– or Apollo? This was tough, since you could somehow see both at the same time... Well, whoever, replied, “For now, consign the bodies of these three to the UNDERWORLD with all proper rites and burn them.”

Had Hoseok’s voice always been honeyed? His words certainly were... Though looking back, he’d never lied to you, just tip-toed around the truth. Didn’t make you feel any better, but he was a god. What an insignificant mortal felt must be irrelevant to him.

The courtier nodded, followed along with everyone the guards who carried the dead royal family outside of the throne room. Only you and Jungkook remained. And him.

“Leave us, little brother,” you ordered softly.

“But–”

“Listen to your sister. Fear not, I won’t harm her.”

Jungkook trusted that, he just didn’t want to leave your side ever again. However, it became clear to him that defying a god was the stupidest idea when he met his eyes. There was a subtle threat reflected on them.

He didn’t need to be told twice to go then, and the silence he left behind was beyond tense.

You daren’t look at Apollo now that you were alone. The man you’d spoken so casually to, bossed around, shouted at, made love with. But when you did muster some courage, you realised he didn’t seem so different in appearance, it was just that you weren’t blind to his splendour anymore.

He beckoned you to come closer and you obeyed with your face cast down as, would he punish you for doing the king’s bidding and stealing from him, after all? To your relief, he only raised your chin gently to make you look at him, but your eyes instead landed on the small cut on his hand, and without thinking you held it to check whether it was deep, careful not to touch his blood as ichor was deadly to mortals.

“Y-You’re hurt…”

“This little thing?” Apollo smiled at your concern, as it was no more than a scratch. He blew his divine breath on the wound and in seconds, it healed completely. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

“You owe me nothing, lord.”

“Hoseok is fine. I rather like the sound of it when you say it.” He sighed when you just nodded. “We didn’t meet by chance, Y/N. Hermes and Dionysus dared me to seduce the first mortal my eyes set upon without revealing my identity.” Oh, so worse than you’d imagined. “It didn’t occur to me that you’d beat me to it.”

Your lips parted in confusion. “To seducing you? But I’ve done nothing but disrespect Apollo– I mean, Hoseok– Uh, you…”

He chuckled, “Believe me, I know. Without meaning to, you’ve bewitched a god well enough to make him overlook hubris. Do you know what that means?”

You shook your head.

“It means I am in love with you, and that I want you to be mine.” You avoided his gaze out of shyness, but he cupped your cheeks and kissed you like he had done back in that cell less than an hour ago, taking your breath away—only this time, you felt the heat of the sun itself on your lips. He pulled back only to whisper against them, “You know I do not lie.”

You did know that. But could you forgive so easily being deceived over a bet? Even the god of whom you were a priestess?

Truth was, it wasn’t just the fear of what then seemed to be a certain death by the hands of Apollo that drew you to his embrace the night before you left Corinth. Neither was it just lust in Argos. He’d earned your love, so much so that you’d agreed to become his lover, were likely going to quit being a priestess at some point to be wed to him. The bet was won long ago, he knew he needn’t claim your maidenhood for it, and yet he’d stuck around.

A different face mattered not.

He loved you, and you loved him.

“I am already yours.”

Hoseok hummed pleased before you kissed him, and you felt his smile grow under your lips. It made you smile too, and the two separated to laugh. Then, he headed to the steps to pick up his golden arrows and put them in his quiver.

“You’re leaving?”

“I must leave for Olympus. I have responsibilities I’ve set aside this past week, but I’ll come back whenever you utter a prayer to me. I promise.”

He saw the disappointment on your face and placed a hand over your belly, making you frown. “Intimacy with the gods always bears fruit. I can already feel twins growing inside you, and I cannot wait to raise them alongside you.”

At the thought of your children playing around the forest the same way you and Jungkook once did—or Apollo and Artemis, at that—you couldn’t help but smile again. Not to mention that you would not only preserve your position as a priestess, but also be revered for giving a god descendants.

Hoseok kissed you one last time, and when you opened your eyes, he was gone, but his warmth remained.

[foxy-eva]

Pretty Boy

Summary: Seeing how Spencer would do anything to make their daughter smile never fails to warm his wife’s heart 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: food mentions

Word count: 1.7k

Masterlist

When my phone rang while I sat at the breakfast table with my family, I already had a hunch what this could be about. My thoughts were confirmed when I answered the phone, soon to be met with two pairs of pouting lips when I told my husband and daughter that I had to go to work for a couple of hours. 

“But it’s weekend! It’s mommy and daddy time!” Our child protested. 

“I am very sorry. I swear, I will make up for this. You guys are free to do whatever your heart desires today. Eat ice cream, go to the park, cause a ruckus,” turning to Spencer I added, “within reason.” 

He smirked at me and answered, “You know, I can’t promise that.” 

“How do I cause a ruckus?” Our daughter wondered, looking at her father with raised eyebrows. 

He winked at her and chuckled, “I’ll tell you once your mom has left.”

Our little girl was right to scold me, our weekends were usually reserved for some quality time as a family. It was not easy to leave them even for five minutes, but my boss didn’t give me another choice than to come into the office to take care of some issues that had occurred. I knew Spencer would understand, but he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his face. 

I placed a chaste kiss on the top of my daughter’s head before hugging my husband goodbye. “I’m really sorry. I love you,” I muttered into the fabric of his shirt. 

“It’s okay, my love. Now go, so you can be back soon! I love you, too.”

I had sworn to myself that I would not be working for more than five hours, but after more than half of that time had gone by, I realized that I could easily spend the rest of my day in the office to fix all the issues. I glanced at the bright smiles of my husband and daughter on the screensaver of my phone and felt my heart aching. It was then that I decided that my job had to wait. 

“I did some damage control and will take care of the rest on Monday,” I announced to my boss, walking out the door before she could even react and convince me to stay. When I reached my car, she texted me, thanking me for coming in today and wishing me a good weekend. Relieved that I didn’t have to argue over my free time, I drove home as fast as the speed limit would allow. 

I felt my heart starting to flutter at the thought of being reunited with my family. I cherished the time we spent together on the weekends more than I could put into words, so I couldn’t quite contain the excitement to finally get home. I was wondering what they were doing, certain that Spencer found a way to make our daughter happy despite her disappointment about my absence. 

The house seemed empty when I entered it and I thought about the very likely possibility that Spencer had taken our daughter to the playground. That was until I heard her familiar giggle from upstairs. As I neared the direction of the sound, I realized that it came from the bathroom. 

“What are you guys up to”, I mumbled to myself, curious about what was awaiting me behind the bathroom door. 

The door was cracked open and I decided to listen to their conversation for a bit before announcing my presence. 

“What’s this for?” I heard our girl wondering. 

“I think your mother uses that for her eyelashes,” my husband explained.  

I wasn’t too thrilled about the thought of Spencer letting our very young daughter put on make-up, even more so that it apparently were my products they used. I opened the door, speechless as I saw an image I would certainly never get out of my mind for the rest of my life. 

Our little girl was aiming for Spencer’s lashes with the mascara in her hand, stopping in her tracks once she saw me standing in the door. When her father turned his head I realized that our child was not the one with make-up on her face. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall with a towel wrapped around his head and red lipstick sloppily smeared around his mouth. 

“Mommy, you’re here! Doesn’t daddy look pretty?” 

I couldn’t stop the laugh rumbling through my chest at the sight of the man on the floor. He looked hilarious. 

“Yes, don’t I look pretty?” He mocked as he looked up at me. 

“You truly are the prettiest boy there is,” I laughed. “What is all this?”

“A ruckus!” Our girl excitedly squeaked while jumping up and down on her little feet. 

“Welcome to our beauty salon,” Spencer laughed and added, “In my defense, there was no way I could have said no to her face.” Turning to our girl, he said, “Come on, sweetie. Show your mommy how you convinced me.” 

She looked at me with huge puppy eyes, her lower lip sticking out in a heart-breaking pout. There was no way anyone could deny her anything with a face like that. 

“Very convincing indeed,” I concluded. Hinting at the towel covering his hair, I wanted to know, “What’s going on up there?” 

“Homemade hair mask,” he explained as he removed the fabric, revealing a sticky mess on top of his head. 

Our child nodded, explaining, “Daddy asked the internet.”

I crouched down to be on level with Spencer, inspecting his hair. “Oh no, what did the internet say?” 

“Mix honey, olive oil and a banana,” she recited. “But we ate the banana.” 

Before I could move away from my husband, his hand found the nape of my neck in an attempt to kiss me. Playfully I struggled to get away from him, not being keen on getting the lipstick on his face smeared all over mine. “No!” I snickered as I tried to wiggle out of his grip, “You’re not going to kiss me like that.” 

My attempts to get away from Spencer were futile, just a split second later I felt his lips on my cheeks in an over-dramatic smack. With a smug grin he pulled back to look at the mess on the side of my face while our child couldn’t contain her giggles as she witnessed her father’s goofiness. 

I got up from the floor to look at myself in the mirror, finding my cheek covered in crimson colored lipstick markings. I took a make-up wipe from the package and handed it to the hyped up girl standing beside me. 

“Come on, let’s clean up your dad.” 

With joined forces we rid Spencer of the lipstick before we washed the oily and sticky mess from his hair. Although I was sure that our daughter unintentionally tugged on his curls too harshly while shampooing his hair, he didn’t complain once. He played along until any evidence of our girl’s pretend beauty salon was gone from his body. 

After we were done with that, our kid was clearly ready for a nap, rubbing her eyes and yawning as exhaustion overcame her. My husband took her little hand in his to lead her to her room so she could sleep for a bit. “Let’s get you to bed, sweetie.”

“But you said we would get ice-cream when mom is home!” She protested.

“I did,” he agreed, “but there’s still time for that later.”

She was not yet convinced and asked, “Promise?”

Spencer stretched his little finger out for our girl to hook hers around it. “Pinky promise.” 

After a few minutes Spencer came back into the bathroom to help me clean up the remaining evidence of their shenanigans. With a smirk he looked at me once we were done. He took a make-up wipe to rub it over my cheek, ridding me of the already forgotten lipstick stains on my face. 

“I’m sorry about using your make-up. I can get you new lipstick if you want,” he offered. 

I shook my head. “That’s okay. I barely use that shade anyway.” 

Swinging my arms around his neck, I brought my lips to his in a soft kiss. With his hands on my waist he kept me in place, leaning in to kiss me properly. He then peppered my whole face with little pecks, making me giggle at the contact. 

Turning my head, I looked through the open bathroom door into the direction of our bedroom. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Spencer chuckled. 

All I could think about was taking a nap myself, but I wasn’t sure if my husband might have misinterpreted it for something else. “Yeah? And what would that be?” 

“Come on,” he said as he took my hand just like he did with our daughter minutes before. “I know a sleepy girl when I see one.” 

Together we found our place under the covers of our bed, our limbs entangled as I curled into his side. He let his fingertips brush over my back as I nestled my face into the fabric of his shirt, breathing in his familiar scent. 

“I really missed you this week,” he whispered.

I thought about the past few nights when I would stretch out my arms for him, only to find an empty bed. I had gotten used to his work schedule over the years but it didn’t change the fact that my heart still longed for his nearness whenever he was gone to work on a case. 

I placed a kiss on the scruff on his cheek and mumbled, “I missed you, too.” 

When I heard the door knob turning, followed by the pitter-patter of tiny feet approaching us, I added, “And she missed you as well.” 

Without saying anything, our little girl crawled into bed with us. Despite the lack of space between our bodies, she still managed to find room inside both of her parents’ arms. Sleepily she snuggled her little body against us, muttering, “I wanna nap here.” 

“That’s okay, sweetie,” Spencer cooed before kissing the top of her head. “I love having both of my girls in my arms.”

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[pinknatural]

On Monday night, Cas kneels beside the bed and folds his hands, dipping his forehead against the blankets and closing his eyes, lips moving soundlessly. Dean sits on the bed, still as a statue, and watches him, afraid to move. 

When Cas straightens his head and uncurls, standing up, his eyes are wet with tears. Dean reaches for him and Cas falls onto the bed, presses his face into Dean’s neck, sobs silently. Dean holds him close, one hand cradling his head and the other rubbing his back, and he stares at their ceiling. 

Dear Jack, or God, or whoever, he prays. Please come back. Please come home. We miss you. 

On Tuesday morning, Dean untangles himself from Cas gently and brushes the hair from his forehead, presses a kiss to the uncovered skin. He gets out of bed and tiptoes out the door. He’ll get Cas some coffee. It’s the least he can do.

Dean’s chest feels tangled in knots, misery weighing heavily on him. All Dean can think about are his mistakes, all the ways he’s screwed up his kid. All the ways he’s done what he swore he’d never do, three nights after Sam left for Stanford, when he was curled up in a motel bathtub, hiding from his own father. 

But today’s not about Dean, or his guilt, or his pain. It’s about Cas, and it’s about Jack. 

Dean creeps down the stairs, holding the ends of the dead guy robe up so he doesn’t slip. He drops the fabric once he reaches the hardwood floor down below, and he heads for the kitchen. 

Something rattles, and he freezes.

There’s a knife tucked into the leather jacket hanging by the front door, and Dean slides his hand into the pocket, curls his fingers around the hilt. He glides on socked feet towards the kitchen, hoping it’s just Claire--but Claire never wakes up this early. 

From the kitchen, something clatters and falls. It sounds like bowls falling, and Dean takes bigger steps, readying his knife. When he turns the corner into the kitchen, though, it’s not a shitty robber or a demon or Claire or anything else Dean thought it might be. 

A chair from the kitchen table was dragged across the room, pushed up against the cabinets. The cabinet with the bowls is both open and empty, and the plastic bowls are scattered against the counter and floor. On top of the kitchen chair is a little boy--three or four, with blonde-brown hair and wide blue eyes. His little arms are reached out to the fallen bowls, as if he tried and failed to stop them from falling. He freezes and blinks at Dean, who stares back at him. 

“Dean!” the boy cries, and he jumps off the chair and runs full-tilt at Dean, wrapping his little arms around Dean’s leg and burying his face in Dean’s gut. Dean startles and crouches down, disrupting the kid’s hold. 

“Hey,” he says gently, unwilling to scare the kid. The little boy is beaming, a bright smile, little baby teeth lined up and gleaming. He has a smattering of freckles across his nose, and he’s wearing a pair of pink dinosaur pajama pants, with a slightly oversized Led Zeppelin t-shirt. His socks say DADDY’S LIL ANGEL on the top of his feet. Dean surveys the boy’s face again. “Jack?” he asks eventually, unsure who else it would be, and maybe a little too hopeful to be thinking straight. 

“Yes!” the boy--Jack, apparently--says, flinging his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean hugs him back, confused, and inhales. He smells like the strawberry shampoo he used at the Bunker. 

“Hey, buddy,” Dean says, and he stands, his back protesting at the crouch, pulling the little boy up with him. “How are you here? Why are you little?”

“I was all done!” Jack says proudly, spreading his arms out wide and nearly smacking Dean in the face. 

“All done?”

“All done!” Jack confirms. “I was soooo tired. So I came home! And now I want cereal.”

He wiggles in Dean’s arms, trying to get down. Dean yields, and Jack runs to the fallen bowls, picking up Claire’s favorite purple one. Dean watches, astounded, as Jack opens the cabinet but can’t reach the cereal. He follows and reaches for it, puts it on the counter. 

Jack is here. Jack is home. Jack is his actual age. Dean wonders if he has powers, then he decides it doesn’t matter. If he does, they can deal with that later. 

“Hey, Jack,” Dean says. “Come here.” 

Jack runs up to him, still clutching his bowl. He lifts his arms obediently, and Dean picks him up, gently takes the bowl from his hand and puts it on the counter. 

“You’re home?” Dean asks. “For good? This isn’t a dream?”

“I’m home!” Jack says, kicking his legs. “For ever and ever.” His eyes go wide and uncertain. “You said I could.”

“Yeah, buddy,” Dean says, a lump in his throat. “Of course I did.” He cups the back of Jack’s head and brings their foreheads together, wills away his tears. “Come on, you can have cereal in a little bit.” 

He turns away from the mess in his kitchen and towards the stairs. “How did you know we wouldn’t be at the Bunker?”

“I wanted to come home,” Jack says. “Not the Bunker.”

Dean blinks rapidly. Jack pokes the picture of his older self as they pass it on the stairwell. Dean stops at the top of the stairs, turns his head to the left to look at Claire’s bedroom, the door shut tight. 

“Shh,” Dean says, and Jack nods solemnly. 

“Shh,” he repeats. 

Dean turns his head to the right, to look at the door across from Claire’s. It’s shut, too, out of respect. They’ll go there later, Dean decides. They’ll see if Jack likes the decorations Cas put up, or if they’ll have to go to the store and change it. Dean will be thrilled either way. 

He keeps walking. His bedroom is at the end of the hall, past Claire’s bathroom, and Dean pushes open the door gently. 

“Okay,” he whispers to Jack. “You can jump, but only if you’re very careful.”

“Okay,” Jack whispers back, and Dean dumps him onto the bed. Jack stands and walks the three steps it takes to get him to the middle of the bed. He falls to his knees and pokes at Cas’s chest, then bounces on the mattress beside him. “Daddy, wake up.”

Dean’s heart melts, and Jack pokes at Cas’s cheek, then his nose. Cas doesn’t wake up, and Jack crawls on top of him. 

“Dadddyyyy,” he says. Cas startles, then blinks awake, bleary. Dean watches his eyes slit open, confused, and the blue eyes focus on the little boy sitting on his chest. Then Cas shoots upright, hands on Jack’s shoulders. 

He looks at Dean, who nods, then he looks back at Jack.

“Jack?” he whispers. 

“Daddy!” Jack says happily, then Cas squishes him to his chest, curling over him. 

“Jack,” he breathes. “Oh, you came back.”

“Yep!” Jack says, voice muffled, and Dean sits down, crawls onto the bed. 

“Apparently he was all done,” Dean says. 

“Yep!” Jack says again. “Auntie Amara said it was time to go home.”

“Of course it was,” Cas says, his voice fragile, and he rocks back and forth, holding Jack to his chest. He looks up at Dean, eyes wet, and Dean hugs him. 

They stay like that for a long moment, Jack pressed between them, clutching onto Cas’s shirt with tiny fingers. Dean exhales shakily and presses his forehead to Cas’s, then he remembers something. 

“Hey buddy,” he says. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Ummm,” Jack says. “Tuesday?”

“No, baby,” Cas says, sniffing. 

“No, it’s Tuesday,” Jack argues.

“Of course it is,” Dean says. “But do you know what else it is?”

“No,” Jack says. 

“It’s your birthday,” Dean says. “You’re four now.”

“Wow,” Jack says. He wiggles in excitement. “Does that mean we can have cake?”

“Of course we can,” Cas says, making a noise that sounds like a sob and a laugh at the same time. 

“And a biiiiiiggg party?” Jack asks. 

“The biggest,” Dean promises. 

“With Uncle Sammy?” Jack asks. Dean doesn’t know where he picked up “Uncle Sammy”, but he hopes Jack calls him that forever. 

“Of course,” Dean says. “I’ll call him in a few minutes. We’ll call everyone.”

“Everyone?” Jack asks. 

“Everyone,” Dean says. 

“Even Kaia?”

“Especially Kaia,” Dean says. He looks at Cas, realizing that he’s not the only person living in this house, but Cas doesn’t seem like he’s about to argue. In fact, he’s making his calculations face--probably wondering who to invite, who can get here on time and so last minute. 

Dean realizes, suddenly, that Claire and Jack have never met. They’ll have to remedy that. 

They can, now. 

They can do anything, Dean realizes, as they get out of bed and Cas says something about no baby clothes and Jack protests that he’s not a baby, as they tiptoe past Claire’s room to retrieve the promised cereal. Dean unlocks his phone on autopilot, opening the phone app and turning to the favorites tab. When Dean was four, his family was destroyed. 

Claire comes downstairs, Miracle in tow, and she shakes Jack’s hand solemnly. Sam screams over the phone. Rowena shows up in half an hour with a closet full of clothes fit for a four year old. Eileen and Sam bring balloons and streamers. 

Cas is alive, Dean thinks while he mixes the cake. Sam is hanging up streamers across the room. Jody and the girls bustle in with enough food to feed an army. Claire lets Jack climb on her, looking a bit frightened and a bit resigned. Kaia helps Jack put on a tutu over his jeans. Dean slides the cake into the oven, and watches Eileen teach Alex how to sign happy birthday. 

Jack is here now. He’s here and he’s four, and Dean’s family was destroyed when he was four, and now his son is four years old. 

“Our family’s all together,” Dean whispers into Cas’s ear. Cas kisses him briefly. Dean had tried to keep track of their kisses, at first, but he’s lost count. 

“Yes,” Cas says, eyes bright. “They are.”

(ao3)