#i know what it’s called but i’m not attempting to spell that shit

[mavenbeeee]

i know everyone is praising ify for how he’s playing this season and i do think he is slaying but some of his moves kinda bother me😭😭😭i didn’t like how he took all the drug juice i feel like brennan obviously had a plan for how that was gonna work with persimmon dead AND everyone would’ve got a cool moment with the drugs but he kinda just took it :/ obviously it worked out and it did lead to that convo w liv and russell but idk i felt like jacob in that moment and i’m not even playing LMAO like i would rather have just seen what brennan was gonna do and got to see how everyone was gonna take it

[snaileer]

Wrong Number? Wrong Answer.

It was the usual deal that the Justice League Dark dealt with… way too often honestly.

Initially, it had been just Wonder Woman, investigating a cult that had attempted to abduct her earlier in the month.

Diana had defeated them. Easily. Of course. But upon questioning them, their reasoning had concerned her.

They had attacked her for a ritual to open the ‘Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep’, a ritual which required ‘a blade blackened by the ichor of time.’

Once again, she was being targeted for her parentage. Did it ever end?

Of course, she questioned them further, what other ingredients did they need, what artifacts they would be hurting others to create.

A ring carved from the bone of an unfreed slave.

A crown made of lava untouched by human hands.

And sand directly from the pouch of Dream of the Endless themself.

It was an eclectic collection of items.

And yet, they had told her that only the blade remained to be created.

Again, it was concerning.

So Diana left the fools to be taken care of by men’s authorities, and focused on tracking down just what they were doing and if necessary, how to stop it.

After depleting her academic resources, and her connections within with nothing to show, Diana finally called in her friend through the league, Zatanna.

Zatanna had been frazzled by it, showing up in her living room before they’d even finished the call.

Together they tracked down the cult to Gotham… which was also a problem.

It was the reason why Diana was running through the caves beneath the crime ridden city with one of her closest friends in men’s world and a magician by her side.

All too quickly, they were surrounded by fanatics, each carrying sharp blades solely focused on her.

Working in sync with Batman and Zatanna throwing spells above them, Diana believed it would be a well-won battle.

Until a golden light flashed across the cave, blinding her for a precious second as she felt a sharp sting cut across her arm.

When her vision cleared, her arm was dripping blood and John Constantine stood in front of her.

“Sorry about that, love,” Constantine smirks, “No harm done?”

Diana’s teeth grind together as she turns away from him, fighting her way through more followers. The one who had injured her is nowhere to be seen, and the blade with them.

Even once the rest of the swarm is beaten, their numbers no longer being replenished, Diana does not feel content. The sense of danger lingers.

“Constantine.” Batman growls, “What are you doing in Gotham?”

The Brit rolls his eyes as he lights a new cigarette, “You know I don’t actually have to tell you every time I enter the city right? But besides, that’s news to me, portals are a tricky business, I’m tracking my own problem.”

Batman glares at him.

“Someone stole from me mate. And whatever they stole it for can’t be good, so I’m here ta get it back. Thought you’d be proud of something like that, Batsy, insteada leavin’ it for someone else?”

Batman’s eyes darken, “We’re tracking a group trying to open the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep, is your artifact related to that?”

“Fucking shit it is yeah! Bollocks I didn’t think they’d be using the dream sand for something like that, what sort of mannies are these?!” Constantine exclaims, hastily grinding his cigarette beneath his shoe.

“Hn.”

Suddenly, there’s a rattling boom, the ground and walls shaking around them as dust rains down and they are all forced into stabilizing stances.

They barely share a glance before all three are running down the hall to the source, Constantine left scrambling to keep up.

The scene they come to is equal parts confusing as it is problematic.

The cultists are each in states of disrepair, crusting on the edges or yelling at their leader. The leader is the first to notice their arrival.

“You! You say you are a child of Zeus and yet your blood does not work! You lie of your ancestry!”

Diana steps forward, “I do not! I am the daughter of Queen Hippolyta and Zeus, grandchild of Kronos! The fault of your magic does not lie with me!”

The leaders face twists, mouth open to shout, but a flash of gold slams into him.

“Z, the book!” Constantine yells, arms outstretched as he flings more spells at the surrounding people, glowing ropes binding each.

“On it! Etativel em dna eht koob!” Zatanna shouts, lifting into the air as a book the leader had been holding flies into her hands.

Immediately she begins turning pages with desperation, “Wohs em eht stsitluc lleps!”

The book flips to a distinct page, and Zatanna’s face drains of color.

“Batman, we need to be careful, this spell looks legitimate, we might still have a risk on our hands.”

Batman hummed, looking at the chalk lines of the summoning circle drawn out before them, drawing Diana to do the same. Looking closely at the artifacts placed at each cardinal direction, including a short dagger with her blood nearly completely dry on the flat of the blade.

Batman moves towards the gathered and bound cultists as both magicians whisper over the spell.

Diana continues to look out on the evidence of the ritual, confusion warring in her.

She lays a hand on the lasso at her side. She knew she had not been lying about her heritage, so then why….

‘A blade blackened by the ichor of time.’

She looks at the bloodied dagger once more. It didn’t make sense, even if they had managed to harm a godly descendent, pure ichor would be gold; and even her blood was simply a humanly deep crimson red, not black; not until it-

Diana lunges towards the knife, fingertips brushing its hilt just as her blood dries a flaky black.

Her body slams into the cave walls in the next second, percussive force rippling through the air.

She crumples to the ground, struggling to lift her head.

White boots pass in front of her eyes.

She watches as they move towards her colleague, her friend, only to be surprised as they stop in front of the cultists instead.

As the air returns to her body, Diana lifts herself up, shaking arms supporting her as the weight of the atmosphere presses down.

She looks at the being, the sight almost making her collapse once more.

Mist curls around its form like a mountain peak, iridescent light glowing near its head, pitch black night covering its body, the pinprick of stars so small you can’t see them straight on, claws like a falcon’s beak: unhidden and meant to tear apart. And more importantly, wrapped around the leaders neck.

““̵̨̮̣̀͊̓Y̷͖̊̒o̸̤͈͍͌̈́͘u̶̗̭̲̍ ̵̬̤̞̀̑ā̴̟r̸̹̝̉e̴̞̦̮͑̍ ̴̣̩̖͑̓͛a̷̮̞͍͊͆͝ ̶͍̀̈́́f̷̖̄ò̸͈̓͝ǫ̷̅̀̔l̶̹̥̹̋͌͠.̴̤̲̈́͋̀”̶̛̫̺̈́”

The voice rattles her heart within her chest. She watches as Batman continues to try and stand.

The cultist struggles against the hand, mumbling screams behind Constantine’s bind. The creature tears it off with one claw.

“We summ-moned-… the king! Pa-pariah-!“

The creatures hand barely twitches, but the cultist breaks off in a scream. She is surprised to note the other cultists react exactly alike. As if linked.

“̵̻͝Ý̷͚o̶͈͝u̷̦̐ ̶̆͜d̶͈̄ǐ̸̢d̵̲̓ ̴͖̽n̴̘̅ȯ̸͍t̵̛̯ ̴̫̐ŝ̵̗u̴̹̇m̶̨͠m̴̡̽o̴̱̐n̵̘͝ ̴̪̈h̴̨̀i̶͝ͅm̸̰͗.̴͍͆��̸͔̔ The creature growls, “À̴̳n̸̛̜d̶͒ͅ ̴̤̃y̸̬͝ǫ̸̒u̵͗�� ̶̘͛a̴̫̐r̷̠̈e̶͂ͅ ̶͔̋ḽ̶̔ủ̷͜c̷̥̍k̴̲͊ÿ̸̯́ ̶͓́f̷͇͝o̷͎͒ŕ̴͇ ̶͔͝t̶̞̀h̸̲̉ȧ̸̮t̷̩͝.̷͔̍ ̵͙͐I̸͎͌f̶͖͛ ̶̜̇y̵̜͗o̴̩̍ṵ̶͆ ̵̫̈́h̴͛ͅā̴̼d̸̤͆…̵͍̈́i̵͍̐t̸̡̉ ̴̭͂w̷̥̔o̷̟̅u̴̪͂l̸̞̏d̵͚̀ ̵͓̃b̴̢̽e̵̗͠ ̸͕̉m̸̠͆u̶̖͘c̷̯͘h̴̤̎ ̸̥́w̷͚͝o̸͐ͅr̶̦͐s̵̨̿e̸͕͆ ̸̙̑f̴̧̂o̶̱̓ȓ̷̟ ̴̠͗ÿ̸̥́ö̵͜ŭ̶̟.̵͎̉”̶͍̀

The man whimpers under the claws.

"I̴n̷s̵t̴e̷a̵d̸,̶ ̵y̸o̷u̵ ̴g̵o̷t̶ ̷m̸e̸,̴I̴ ̶g̵u̸a̷r̶d̴ ̶h̶i̷s̵ ̶p̸r̸i̵s̵o̵n̶ ̶b̶e̷c̴a̷u̴s̶e̸ ̵I w̴a̸s̴ ̵t̴h̸e̷ ̸o̴n̸e̴ ̷t̸o̶ ̶p̵u̴t̵ ̴h̸i̴m̶ ̵t̴h̷e̸r̶e̴ ̵o̶n̵c̸e̵ ̶m̶o̸r̸e̸.̵”̴ The creature leans into the cultist, arching ever higher, angles sharpening, body distorting, "“̸̝͋a̵̱͋n̶͓͛d̵̘́ ̵̡̍f̷̱͊o̵͚̓r̷̪̎ ̴̭̑a̷̬̓s̷͙̅ ̷͍͌ĺ̵̫o̸̻͆ņ̵̀g̶̚ͅ ̷̬͌a̶̮̿s̵̩͊ ̸̫̌t̸̲̕h̸̢̉e̷̖͗ ̴̰̋c̸̹̀ȍ̸͎s̷̡̃m̵̥̍o̷̜͋s̷̗͐ ̴̜͆e̷̛̙x̸͓̑i̶͉̿s̸̹̀t̵̛̺,̴̡͠Í̷̢ ̷̣̽w̵̠͋i̶̺͒l̴̠͐l̸̮̃ ̴͍͌k̴̰̑e̸̠͐e̷̟͋p̵̲̏ ̸̙̂h̷̘͋ị̸́m̸͕̚ ̶̳̋t̶̡̒h̷̩͆e̷̪͝r̷̒͜e̵̡̔.̵̭͗”̵̮̔

There’s a dull flash as light flashes beneath the cultists skin, beneath all of the cultist’s skin, before they drop to the ground unconscious.

All too quickly, air returns to the room, pressure lifting like a deep breath into the room.

The creature turns, eyes meeting Diana’s for just a second as he turns towards the chalked lines of the circle. Diana lifts herself to her feet, drawing closer to Batman as they both watch him, hesitant.

On the other side of the room, Constantine and Zatanna also struggle to their feet, eyes filled with fear and caution as they take in the scene.

As the creature moves, mist still rolling off him in waves, his features fall away with it, gradually smoothing to a more human visage. It looks… young. Boyish.

Those same white boots crush down on the formed crown, the cooled lava rock crumbling under one step. Next is the ring, held carefully in two hands the creature whispers over it, breathy wind carrying it away as it turns to dust. He holds the blade with one hand, flakes disintegrating off as he lifts it.

Diana’s arm tingles.

Then the creature is standing in front of the last point, holding the small brown pouch of sand with consideration.

Silence reigns in the room.

Constantine, of course, is the one to break it.

“I believe that’s mine, mate,” he cuts in, stance still laden with suspicion.

“Oh?” The creature smiles, almost mockingly as he turns to Constantine, “Is it? If I wasn’t mistaken, this ritual calls for Dream’s sand. Are you Dream of the Endless, little magician?”

Constantine visibly swallows, “I’m not.”

The creature huffs a laugh, fangs glinting in his smirk. He moves swiftly, pivoting on one foot to toss the pouch at Constantine, “Catch.”

Constantine lurches forward to try and catch it, only to find it vanish in the air before it reaches his fingers.

The creature cackles, floating backwards, “What did you do to get your hands on such an amount of Dream’s sand, magician? I’m curious.”

“It was a family present,” Constantine grinds out as he turns back to the gently levitating humanoid form, “You can drop the kid facade by the way, you’re not tricking anyone here looking like that.”

The creature shrugs, “And if I’m comfortable like this?”

Diana steps in to stop Constantine from snapping back, “Who are you, spirit, to be summoned by such a ritual?”

The creature watches her for a beat, “I am Phantom of the Dead City, Protector of infinite realms. They did not bring me here, but I knew who they wished to summon and came because of it.”

Batman steps forward, voice interrogating, “The Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep-“

“Remains sealed. The Tyrant King remains trapped and at rest, do not worry.”

Somehow Diana does not think that soothes Batman, even as a great a warrior as he is.

“Hn.”

“Now, about that spell book,” Phantom turns to Zatanna, waving a hand and the book flies to him. He hovers a hand over it, and Diana watches in fascination as the chalk on the floor begins to burn away, the drawing in the book following.

Phantom looks at her once more, eyes too wise and strong for the age of his face, and then from one moment to the next, he is gone.

The book drops to the floor with a slam, cover open to aged blank pages as the last of the sigil burns away.

Hesitantly, Constantine goes to it, the rest of them following. When Constantine lifts the book with careful hands, they watch another image fade into view on the paper.

A cool colored image of Phantom rising over a city skyline outlined in green against a deep violet sky. Even on paper, his visage shifts constantly between the boyish figure and the ethereal danger of the form he’d appeared in.

Beneath the city lays a large coffin covered in chains.

The lock glows a pulsing toxic green before fading to a steely gunmetal grey and going still.

“Well that was the best encounter I’ve had with a dangerous dimensional figure and I still lost the dream sand.”

Zatanna’s slap echoes in the cave.

[hyewka]

warnings: infidelity, dom!beomgyu, best friend gyu, dubcon, not proofread

he pouts, his face contorting into a childish display of temper as he lightly kisses your neck. “look what you do to me, baby…” he whines, grinding against you rougher, his cock fully hard now. “could fuck you right here right now... i know you want it too,”

you try to resist him, try to get the feeling building up between your thighs out of your head. this was wrong. thats what clicks for you. “no, no…stop, you know i-"

he hums, his fingers teasing the waistband of your panties. "you want me to rip these off and fuck you right here... don’t you want to feel my cock inside you?” he nibbles at your earlobe.

ever since you got finally got together with taehyun, attempting to completely abandon your unrequited yearning for your best friend, he had suddenly gotten more and more touchy with you which had eventually lead you having sex with him after you had your very first fight with your boyfriend. it was all you had hoped for…aside from the fact that you were committed to another.

when you had seen taehyun the next day, the guilt swallowed you whole, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. then days turned into weeks, and the feeling had eventually passed over until you could push it in the back of your head and pretend it never happened…but beomgyu doesn’t make it easy.

see, ever since that night he’d been trying to get you back in his bed. hes managed to have you cum on his fingers multiple times and had even convinced you somehow to get on your knees for him. each time you’d tell yourself that you hadnt had sex so it…technically wasn’t cheating, it was all you could hold on to without feeling like shit whenever you cuddled up with taehyun late at night.

the worst thing is, hes never shown you any hint of lust before you started dating, so it only throws you off when you spend sleepless nights deeply pondering on his behavior.

but what use does that do when you’ve made the mistake of letting him hang out at your house again knowing how he gets? he’s completely insatiable the moment he walks in, kissing you all over.

“baby?” he calls out and you shiver, the feelings you’ve built for him for years threatening to spill out your throat just at the simple petname hes learnt to latch onto over times you spend together like this. you can’t give in, not again. you swallow hard and shake your head, trying to keep your resolve.

“i’m loyal to taehyun, i’m not making this.. mistake again.” you say firmly, or as firmly as you’re able to make it sound. “i need you to respect our relationship or our friendship’s done.”

he laughs, a dark, twisted sound. "loyal? to him? now you decide to be loyal?”

you stand your ground even though every part of you wants to crumble. “y-you took advantage of my vulnerability and had sex with me, i didn’t mean to betray his trust. but i’m ready to move past all of this and-"

suddenly, his grip on you tightens. “what about all the other times after that? y’know, when your mouth was stuffed with my cock?”

you squeeze your eyes shut in regret the moment the memories come rushing in. he continues, leaning in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “don’t make me out to be the bad guy. i know you want me. i know you really love me.”

your heart stops, his words hitting you like a physical blow. you open your eyes, meeting his gaze with a mixture of disbelief and horror. “what?”

his expression softens slightly, but there’s a determined glint in his eyes. “you heard me. you can’t deny it. all those times, it wasn’t just lust.”

you shake your head, struggling to find your voice. “no, you’re wrong. i love taehyun. i can’t… i won’t do this anymore.”

“you’re lying to yourself. he can't satisfy you like i can... he doesn't understand you like i do...” he trails off, testing your buttons. it’s like you’re under a spell the more he talks, pushing his fingers beneath your panties, his breath getting heavier. “you crave this... you crave me, don’t you?”

[tfboyzblog]

Mikey couldn’t believe it was working. That old spell book in his grandfather’s chest was for real. Holding Saul’s hand, he could feel a strange energy fill his body. 

“Holy shit lil’ dude” the older boy exclaimed. “Look at you!”  

Mike glanced to the side where he had his mirror and look at his reflection in shock. He was rapidly growing, almost reaching Saul’s height as a senior. His shirt felt increasingly constrictive as his arms bulged, chest muscles began to push the fabric, back widened. Take off the glasses and ditch the button-up and he could pass as part of the swimming team, or maybe the soccer team... 

“Wow...” was all he could muster in his new, slightly huskier voice. 

“Bro...” Saul nudged him, but the boy was too enraptured in his marvelous growth to notice the older boy begin to dwindle in height and lose much of his size. 

“Bro! I think you’re good for now! Let go!” Saul called louder this time, using his free arm to pull off Mikey’s hand from his own. 

“Oh!” Mikey exclaimed as he came to himself. “I’m sorry! I was so...” he began to mutter as his eyes went back to the mirror and his improved form “-amazed...” he concluded as he tried to move around in his too-small clothes. 

“Yeah... I noticed...” Saul commented in an annoyed tone as he lifted his arms to see how baggy his shirt was now. He silently appreciated the belt holding up his shorts. “Anymore and I’d come out of this looking like a middle schooler... “ 

Mikey looked at his friend, noticing how they practically saw eye to eye now, but the bulk and size the eighteen-year-old had before were gone. He’d still pass for a senior, maybe a junior, but a more average looking one now.  

He smirked. “Nah! You’re still a big boy.” He playfully patted him on the shoulder. “Besides, you’d probably be a cute middle schooler anyway.” He commented. 

“Don’t get any ideas, Mikey!” He pointed at Mike. “Don’t make me regret this!” 

Mikey nodded. “Don’t worry! I promise I won’t.” He hugged his friend, feeling the new power in his arms. If he wanted, he thought, he could hold Saul like that with minimal effort. It felt good. During his strong hug he could swear he felt a poke against his leg, but as he let go, he could see nothing out of the ordinary, aside from what could be a slight blush on Saul’s heavy tanned skin. 

“Thank you! I mean it!” Mikey said. “I just need to stop being kicked around by Hank and his imbecile posse. And now,” he attempted to flex a bicep, but stopping as soon as he started hearing a tear in the fabric “I can! And all thanks to you.” 

“Yeah yeah! I know I’m awesome!” Saul waved. “Just give me back my...” he looked up and down to the burgeoning athlete in dork clothes “you know, everything, next week. That should be enough...”  

“Don’t worry.” Mike said with a wink. “I’ll put your... everything to good use!” 

-- 

Saul left soon after and Mikey thanked the heavens. He couldn’t stand in these terribly tight clothes anymore! His shirt, his socks, but more urgent yet, his underwear. 

Taking off his button shirt with effort, Mikey was in awe of his new sculpted pecs protruding from his chest, he caressed them and followed down to an immaculate row of abs connecting to his waist. He pulled off the trousers, that now looked like they were close to tearing at the seams. His legs were wide and powerful. His feet looked bigger, even. And gazing up he stopped at his poor white briefs, pushing and compressing an impressive bulge. 

“Wow...” He moaned. “I guess I got some of Saul’s ‘other’ size too...” He thought as he pulled down the last piece of constrictive clothes. A long, girthy semi erect dick whipped out of the small nerdy briefs. “I must be, like... 7 inches now!” Mikey said, grabbing his newly improved fuckstick. It felt heavy in his hand, being accustomed to his 4 incher. “Poor Saul.” He thought, making a note to return him his size as soon as he could. 

“But for now...” He smirked and flexed his huge biceps. His dick twitched at the sight. “I want to enjoy the ride.” 

-- 

Saul was getting restless. The week was almost over and not a word for his neighbor. Mikey was always a good kid, and he was tired of hearing how he was constantly getting bullied by some idiot jocks... 

He looked at his mirror. He missed his muscles and the size he used to carry, but he couldn’t help thinking how he kinda looked cuter with a bit less meat in his bones, more of an average but still charming high school boy. He felt a tingle in his lower area, making him rethink all of that. If he knew Mikey’s weird spell would also drain away his size down there, he’d probably reconsider being a donor. Even in his boxers, there was hardly any bump in the front. His healthy looking 6 incher, now closer to 4, at most... 

Suddenly there was a strong knock at the door. 

Mikey! It had to be him! 

Saul flew down the stairs, only in a baggy t-shirt and boxers. He wasn’t prepared for who was waiting on the other side of the door. 

A hulking muscular beast walked in. “Hey there little dude.” He said in a deep voice as he looked down at Saul. “Did you get smaller since I last see you?” 

“Mikey?” Saul asked incredulous. This muscle god was at least 7 feet tall by now, his massive chest barely covered by a tank top, strong thick arms stretched behind his head exposing a pair of sweaty and moderately hairy pits. The monster smirked at Saul, and it was clear it was his friend’s face. More masculine, more defined, perfect skin instead of the normal zits, a killer smile... 

“I go by Mike now. Mikey was giving people the impression I was some tiny nerd or something.” He brings one of his arms down and casually adjusts his crotch. “And there’s nothing tiny here, right?” He laughs.  

Saul could see the outline of the massive snake in his underwear, easily spotted in all its thick glory even through the sweatpants Mike was wearing. 

“What...what happened? You were like...not half as big last week.” Saul asked the giant teen boy. 

“Well, it was all thanks to you, buddy!” He said as he walked towards Saul and grabbed him in a strong hug. Saul’s head resting against the boy’s giant pec. He suddenly felt inundated by the smell coming from his arms. Saul’s head started swimming and a tingle made his dick twitch. 

“You should’ve seen Hank’s face!” Mike laughed and let go of Saul, walking towards the living room and sitting in the sofa, legs wide apart. “When he saw I was as tall as him and was like, as jacked as him, I think he shat his pants. For the first day in my high school life, they left me alone. I couldn’t believe it was that easy!” 

“That’s great! But then-” Saul tried to speak. 

“I wasn’t done speaking, bro.” Mike interrupted, in a calm, but authoritative way. His voice caused a tingle to spread down Saul’s spine and into his lower area. 

“Well, you won’t believe what those pussies tried next!” He continued, now in a friendlier tone. Saul, however, couldn’t shake off the force the boy exuded and the respect he commanded with a simple sentence. He stood in front of the huge teen as he stretched on the couch.  

“They waited for me outside the school the next day. Waited for me to be alone and then Hank grabbed me and dragged me to old warehouse. I guess he thought he couldn’t put me in my place alone now, so he wanted to gang up on me where no one could see. Can you imagine though? How could those losers ever think my place was beneath them?” He laughed at the notion. 

“And wasn’t he surprised when he noticed my shoulders were too wide for him to grab me like that. And weren’t his friends shocked when he let go of me and was just a skinny brat. You should’ve seen his face. Wait. You can actually see it. I took pictures.” Mike said, picking his phone from his pocket. Turning the screen to Saul, the awe-struck boy could see a kid looking no older than 12, swimming in his oversized clothes, looking up in shock. 

“Glad I remembered grandad’s spell, eh?” He winked at Saul, who nodded, not wanting to interrupt his friend again. 

“Well, after the brat was taken care of, his friends were easy pickings, to be honest. With every bit of muscle I took, I took ability, masculinity, everything that made them jocks. They had nowhere to run, and I took it all.” He laughed. 

“So, what do you think lil’ bro?” Mike smirked at Saul as he flexed his gigantic biceps. 

Saul dry swallowed. What did he think. Right in front of him was the biggest 15-year-old in the world, most likely. He exuded power and masculinity. He fumbled for words. He felt butterflies in his stomach and the tingling in his dick was stronger than ever. Not just his dick, either. He felt a yearning, inside... 

“Mike-” he almost used his old nickname. “That’s insane. You’re like, bodybuilder huge!”  

“I know, right? Pretty sick!” He guffawed. “Didn’t feel the need to drain them as much as Hanky boy, but they’re pretty much nobodies now. Horny submissive nobodies, actually.” Saul was shook. “They can’t seem to quit my dick, now.” 

“But then again.” Mike grabbed a handful of cock “I got about four jocks worth of testosterone and musk so...” He looked suggestively at Saul “who would be able to...” 

Saul tried to repress the growing feeling inside him. “But your folks? I live right next door and saw nothing different. No one was surprised about this much growth?” He tried to change the subject. 

“Oh that!” Mike waved. “Another one of grandad’s spells. Basically, it normalized things. If you’re outside the spell, that’s how things always were. Kids at school all think that this is how I always looked. Well except for Hanky boy and the bottom bunch. Even if they wanted to tell someone what happened no one would believe them. I think they like knowing their muscles made me this huge, and if they don’t, they should. But yeah, since you were outside that spell it probably, sorta normalized things for you too...”   

Saul just nodded. It made sense. Even though his head was spinning from all this information and the increasing muskiness in the room. 

“So yeah. It’s all thanks to you, lil’ buddy!” Mike reached in front and grabbed Saul until the smaller 18-year-old was straddling his huge quad. Mike’s strong arms surrounded the boy and hugged him tightly. Saul couldn’t help himself but sitting on his friend's leg and putting his hands on his muscular body. 

“I came over to honor my end of the deal. Give you back your muscle. Your height. A few inches down there...” he chuckled. “Unless you don’t want me to.” 

Saul looked shockingly into his friend’s eyes, still holding to his pecs and shoulders. How could he think that was the case. For an entire week he’s been forced to live without his hard-earned physique. It’s not like it’s that bad, and he had to admit he fit real comfortably on Mike’s lap like that, but still... 

“Unless you want me to keep them. Keep looking like this.” He spoke softly, in a voice that twisted his thoughts. 

 “I think that’s what you want.” He chuckled softly; poking Saul’s modest but raging boner. A large wet spot already had formed on the front of his boxers. “And if that’s the case, I’m sure I can pay you back some other way.” Mike’s big meaty hand slid down Saul’s slender back until it found his supple ass. Saul yelped as the hand caressed his backside. “I’ll make sure to give it all to you. Again, and again...” He whispered at his ear. 

“But you have to be the one to say so.” He continued. “So, what will it be?”  

Saul still looked at his friend’s eyes, his hands wandered freely on Mike’s massive chest. He couldn’t think straight, and the yearning inside grew and grew until he finally admitted to himself what it really was.  

He wanted this muscle god inside him. He knew he’d gladly give all his muscle, all his masculinity, just to be owned by this perfect specimen. No matter how many others there were; to know he was Mike’s. To be used as he saw fit. Saul could only hope he was able to give more to this example of athletic perfection. More of his height, so he’d be smaller, and Mike could manhandle him with even more ease, more of his dick and balls, now useless for Mike’s intended purpose, so he could add more to the python and orange sized balls his former nerd friend now had. 

And as he imagined that and he became even more hungry for cock, Saul felt himself sink deeper, fit even more snugly in Mike’s embrace. He could feel the teenage titan stretch a bit more; his spine extend a couple more inches; his frame swell with some more pounds of muscle...  

Saul looked up at Mike and approached his mouth to his, still afraid to make any noise, and meekly nodded. After all, the choice was obvious. 

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

Well this has been my first "longer" story and the first experiment in making stories without a picture for inspiration and instead drawing random themes from a choice wheel. This time the themes were Muscle Theft and Corruption ;)

The AI picture is just meant as a placeholder for now, as I haven't found a appropriate picture for it ( and I know you pervs prefer TF stories with pictures). I invite people to submit pictures to accompany this story. And finally, if you have suggestions of other places I could post my longer stories from now on, please let me know!!

[luvjunie]

hiii!!!

i was wondering if you can do some miles earth 1610 and earth 42 miles head canons if they were your older brother??

btw I love ur work <333

in which miles is your older brother and your favorite hobby is annoying the shit out of him

the brief mention of Jeff can be present or past, meaning this can be interpreted as 1610 or 42. don’t think it needs to be mentioned but y’all are siblings in this au so it’s obviously platonic lmfao

“Miles!” you sang delightfully on your way to his room, nearly skipping with the excitement of aggravating your older sibling. “Dear, sweet ‘ole brother of mine~”

“Nope, leave me alone.”

His voice, sounding just a tad deeper than it did last week, echoed from down the hall as you approached.

Miles was already up from his bed and on the way to close his door, but you somehow beat him there and leaned your shoulder against the frame. A proposition was eminent in your demeanor, and it made his top lip turn up in distaste.

“Hey Milesy. What’s up?”

He crossed his arms. “You stopped calling me that when you were six.”

Perhaps you were laying it on a little thick, but you’d already gotten this far, so you played on.

“And? Maybe… I’m feeling… nostalgic.” you shrugged.

“Spell nostalgic.” He challenged smugly.

“Anyways!” You abruptly changed the subject with a cheeky grin, the dissimilarity in your expressions comical. “Wanna do me a teeny-tiny favor?”

He couldn’t have shot you down faster.

“Absolutely not. I’d rather use the bathroom after Dad.”

You cringed at the thought. Was he that unwilling?

“Why not?”

“Are you crazy?” Miles gawked. “I got my door taken off the hinges the last time you asked for a ‘teeny-tiny favor’,” he quoted the words with his fingers. “Get somebody else to do it—“

“Wait!” You foiled his sudden attempt to shut his door by using your right foot to stop it— the foot in question, currently clad in a fuzzy, christmas themed sock.

It was the middle of April. But that wasn’t important.

Miles’ hazel eyes agitatedly narrowed at you between the small gap you’d managed to keep open. You both knew he could easily close his door if he really tried, but he didn’t want to hurt you. Though he was considering it.

“Pleaaaseee?” Hands clasped to accompany your begging, you whined at him in a tone that made him grimace.

“Y/n, what did I just say?” He grumbled. “No escuchas. (you don’t listen). It’s like you were born without ears or something.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you for!”

He shook his head, “I don’t need to!Knowing you, it’s something stupid.”

Making his way to the kitchen, Miles immediately recognized the scent on the hoodie you were wearing when he brushed past your shoulder.

It was the one you’d bought him last year as a birthday gift. He hadn’t noticed it was missing until now, and after it being in your possession for God knows how long, the remnants of his cologne were now drowned out by some tooty-fruity ass body spritz that had his head hurting.

“And stop wearing my clothes, dude. You always give ‘em back smelling like Victoria Body Works and argon oil. That’s if you even give them back.”

Yeah, ‘Victoria Body Works’ was definitely not a thing.

Hot on his heels like a cold that medicine just couldn’t kick, your brows pinched together while you accompanied him through the empty apartment on what you assumed was a search for food.

“It’s Victoria’s secret, dumbass. This how I know you ain’t got hoes.”

“Who?” Miles quirked a brow as he sifted through the snack cupboard for a box of something to demolish in an hour.

“You-“

“—Asked. Bozo.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, a deadpan look on your face when you went to rest your elbows on the granite counter top. “You’re actually ancient.”

Miles was only two years your senior, but he acted like an old head, and that was probably the fault of your Uncle Aaron. He’d spent more time with that man than he did in his own room, which was shocking to say the least.

Miles’ eyes lit up when he discovered a hidden gem tucked into a back corner. “Yo, you gonna eat these honeybuns?”

“You gonna do me a favor?” you shot back, head tilted with the confidence of your incredible advantage over him.

Miles kissed his teeth. He had an immense sweet tooth, and you of all people knew he could never deny sugar.

“Dude, this same box has been sitting in here since last month. Which I know personally, because mom sent me out to get them. Meaning your tubby-ass forgot about these at least two weeks ago!”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “I am not tubby!”

“Tubby is a mindset. Now can I have ‘em or nah?”

You paused to think. “Depends.”

“On?” he encouraged impatiently as you toyed with the hemming of your sleeve.

“When asked where I’m at, around…Let’s say,” you chewed on your thoughts. “Six pm tomorrow— and I know you’ll be asked— say I’m at Isabella’s.”

Miles gave you a skeptical look. “And where are you really gonna be?”

He doubted he wanted to know the specifics on why he needed to lie for you, but he thought to ask anyway. You were his little sister after all, at least one person needed to know where you were.

“Nunya.” you mumbled.

“It’s a boy, isn’t it?” Miles squinted, fingers pinching either side of the honey bun’s plastic in preparation to open it.

Rolling your lips under your teeth, you awkwardly shifted your position so your back was leaned on the counter instead, and spoke cautiously as you ogled the lifting of a few floorboards.

“Maybe… But we’re just gonna-“

“Alright, alright. I got you. I’on need details.” Miles scooped the entire box of his well-earned treats into the cradle of his arm, then reached the other over your head to close all the cupboards he’d previously opened.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You stole the opportunity to trap Miles in a quick hug, tightly squeezing your arms around his torso on purpose because you knew how much it annoyed him. He never did grow out of being ticklish.

“Yeah, yeah. Move,” voice muffled as he was mid-bite, Miles separated you from him with two, rudely-stiff fingers to the middle of your forehead, then started back to the room he rarely left, somehow grabbing the entire jug of apple juice off the counter on his way.

He called out to you without turning back around.

“But if you not back by 9, I swear I’m snitching. I need my door, trust.”

Your face screwed into one of disgust at the implication. “Ewww bro, you’re gross!”

[eddieschains]

Don’t Push Your Luck

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

TW// 18+, alcohol consumption, name calling, spanking (hands and implements), fingering, bondage, mentions of safe word, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, let me know if i missed anything !!

“You’re being a right asshole right now, you know that?” You huff at Eddie. To say you two were going through a bit of a rough patch would be an understatement. It wasn’t bad, just constant bickering over the pettiest things.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is. It’s just clothes.” He sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed as you two get ready to go out.

“I want you to match with me. Is it so terrible that I want us to look good tonight?” You threw your hands in the air, walking away from him.

You knew it was a dumb argument. But, it seemed like you two were drifting away lately, and you just wanted him to care about the little things.

You finish your hair in the bathroom, letting him get ready himself before heading downstairs and grabbing your purse.

You yell for him that you’re ready to go, and you hear his footsteps make their way down the stairs.

“I wore the jacket.” He speaks flatly. You turn to look at him, not showing any emotion.

“Nice.” You give him a quick glance before turning back to stuff your extra makeup in your bag.

He walks up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Babe… can we please not fight tonight? I just wanna have a nice night out with friends.”

“Sure. Wouldn’t want to ruin your night by caring too much.” You mumble, before heading out the door. Eddie locks up behind you, and you make your way to the van, not waiting for him to follow. You hop in the passenger seat, scrolling on your phone until he joins you.

“Hey i’m sorry. Let’s have fun tonight, yeah?” He attempts to calm the situation one last time.

“Yeah, sure.” You respond, not looking up from your phone.

“I love you.” He says quietly, placing a hand on your thigh. You don’t respond. “I said I love you.” He raises his voice a little, still not eliciting any reaction from you. He removes his hand from your thigh and starts the engine. “Fucking brat.” He mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

Brat. Okay, you could have some fun with this. The rough patch you were going through also resulted in a dry spell between you two. Probably because of the bickering if you had to pinpoint a reason.

You knew the arguments were stupid and petty, and you wanted them to stop. But, you also knew if there was one way to get you back to where you were, it was by having him fuck you raw. And if that meant being a little shit until he had no choice, so be it.

You arrived at his friends house, getting out of the van before he even turned the engine off. You can hear the music pumping and people laughing as you approach the door.

“Y/N!” One of his friends yells as he greets you with a hug. “Where’s Eddie?”

“I don’t know. Coming?” You respond. Eddie is right behind you, scoffing at your words. His friend shoots him a confusing look as you move past him.

You push through the crowd of people, making your way to the kitchen for a drink. You’re throwing back shots of vodka as you dance to the music by yourself.

A few minutes go by until you see an angry looking Eddie storming towards you. “The fuck is your problem?” He spits at you. You raise your eyebrows in question. “I told you I didn’t want to fight tonight. Now people keep asking if we’re okay.”

“And what exactly do you want me to do about that? Hmm?” You respond. “I’m here to have fun, and that clearly doesn’t involve you.” You push past him, making your way to what was supposed to be the dance floor.

You find a group of girls, and join them in what really was just throwing back shots and grinding your hips to the music. You don’t give Eddie a second glance, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“Is that your boyfriend?” One of the girls points behind you. You turn to see him sat outside, leant against the balcony railing, glaring at you. If looks could fucking kill.

“Yup. Love of my life.” You laugh.

“Why does he look like he’d rather be anywhere but here?” She chuckles, taking another shot.

“Ugh he’s mad at me I guess. We’ve been fighting ever since we left the house.” You turn back to her, downing the shot she hands you. “He just doesn’t know i’m doing it on purpose.” You shoot her a devious smile, and she throws her head back in laughter.

“Why don’t we stir the pot a little?” You give her a confusing look. She turns around, and begins grinding in to you. You take a quick glance back to where Eddie is sitting, and oh my god, you’ve never seen him get up so fast.

“Y/N… what are you doing?” He asks cautiously.

“Dancing… what does it look like i’m doing?” You smirk.

“Well can you please come and talk to me… outside?” He asks.

“Why?” You scoff.

“Because I need you to come outside with me.” He firmly responds.

“You don’t fucking own me, Eddie. I’m staying here.” You can almost see the smoke pouring out of his ears at your comment.

“That’s it. We’re leaving.” He grabs your wrist and starts to make his way towards the door.

You look back at the girl you were dancing with, and she gives you a wink and mouths have fun. God you hope so.

Eddie practically throws you into the passenger seat and slams the door. The drive home is quiet, but fast. You’re surprised you didn’t get pulled over on the way back.

He pulls into the driveway rather quickly, and turns the engine off. “Get out.”

“But i’m comfy.” You respond, curling your legs into your chest. He reaches over and unbuckles your seatbelt, pushing your door open. You take the hint and begrudgingly hop out.

He unlocks the door, and waits for you to walk inside. “Bedroom. Now.” He growls.

You run upstairs, giggling to yourself about what’s to come. You sit on the edge of the bed, throwing your shoes to the other side of the room while you wait for Eddie to join you.

Soon after, he makes his way through the door, slamming it behind him. “Strip.”

His words go straight to your pussy. You feel your arousal pooling in your underwear as you start to remove your clothes. Slowly. You’re not giving in that easily.

Eddie watches intently as you slowly move the straps of your dress down your shoulders, pushing to the middle of your stomach. He’s lucky you decided to go braless tonight, now exposing your bare chest.

“Hurry up.” He demands. You squint at him, finally pulling your dress down to your ankles and stepping out of it.

You turn to face him, staring as you stand in nothing but your underwear. The cold air hardens your nipples, but that’s not where his focus is.

“I thought I said strip.” He says, looking at the fabric covering your nearly dripping cunt.

“I was getting there.” You smirk. You pull your panties down your legs, stepping out of them and kicking them to join your dress on the floor. “Patience is a virtue.”

“You weren’t making it very easy to be patient tonight.” He removes his shirt rather quickly, throwing it with the other pile of clothes on the floor. “Now get on the bed. All fours.”

You comply, kneeling on the bed with your palms facing the mattress. You push your head closer to the bed, pushing your ass up higher.

You hear the sound of him unbuckling his belt, before making his place behind you on the bed. “You wanna act like a fucking brat all day? I’ll treat you like a fucking brat.”

You moan at his words, pushing your ass closer to him. He folds the belt in half, sliding it in between his hands before grabbing on to the buckle. He rubs his hand over your cheeks before snapping the leather across them.

“Fuck!” You scream, your body jumping forward. He smooths his hands over the spot again, before slapping the belt across you a second time. “Fuck, Eddie!”

“See, you’ve been a right pain in my ass for the past three weeks.” He says, slowly gliding the belt across you. “Telling me what to wear.” Snap. “Not listening to what I say.” Snap. “Then you go and grind on another girl at the party.” Snap. Tears are starting to peek through your eyes and drip down your cheeks. “Mm how many more do you think you deserve?” He asks, rubbing the now red spot on your behind.

“Three?” You question.

“No no, you’ve been acting up for weeks. I think at least five is in order.” He snaps the belt again, making you whine. “I know baby, I don’t like punishing you either. But someone needs to teach you about-“ Snap. “Respect.” Snap.

He whips you two more times, before gently rubbing over the red marks. He leans down, kissing the stinging skin. “Eddie… please.” You beg. You’re not sure of exactly what you want, you just need him to touch. Somewhere. Anywhere.

“Aww baby’s learning how to use her words. Good girl.” You push yourself further into him as he continues soothing the marks he’s left on your ass. “You want me to touch you darling?” You moan an mm-hmm eliciting a chuckle from Eddie. “So needy baby.”

He lifts his head from his place on your ass, squeezing and kneading the skin before slipping his fingers in between your legs. He runs his fingers in between your wet folds, gathering your wetness.

“Eddie… inside please.” You beg, grinding yourself on his fingers. You know he needs this just as bad as you do, so he doesn’t waste any time with snide comments.

He runs his fingers through you one more time before slipping one past your entrance. He smacks his hand onto your cheek, making you moan as you feel your walls clench around him. “What was that you said about me not owning you? Cause this pretty pussy sure acts like it.”

“Maybe that’s because you’ve just stuck a finger in there, dumbass.” You smirk. He reaches down and pulls you up to him by your hair.

“Wanna say that again?” He growls in your ear. You stay silent, and he throws your head back down on the bed. “That’s what I thought.”

He begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, hard yet slowly. “Eddie… more. Need more.” You whine, pushing yourself into him.

He grabs your ass with his free hand, holding you in place. “Stop. You’re not getting what you want, not that easy.” He pushes his fingers all the way inside, and starts curling and pressing against your g-spot. “You’re gonna sit here and not say a word. Take it like a good girl, hmm?”

You nod your head, moaning at the pleasure his fingers were giving you. Usually you’d be embarrassed by how close you already were, but after not being touched by anyone but yourself for the last month, you couldn’t care less.

Eddie continues rubbing inside of you, holding you in place with a firm hand on your ass. You start shaking as your walls begin to pulsate around his fingers. He continues as your walls get tighter, until he pulls them out.

You open your mouth to complain about the loss of contact, but opt for a loud whine instead. “Cat got your tongue, honey?” He laughs.

“You told me not to speak.” You spit.

“Ah so you can listen.” He responds, flipping you over on your back. He pulls the handcuffs off of his belt loop and dangles them around his finger. “Now here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna fuck this sweet little pussy, while you stay put and keep your mouth shut, okay?” You mumble an mm-hmm as he grabs your wrists and places the cuffs around them. “And you’re not gonna cum until I say so.” You nod, rubbing your thighs together. Trying to gain some kind of friction.

He locks the cuffs around the bed post, tightening your hands against the bed frame. “Is that too tight?” He asks. You shake your head, signaling it was fine. He leans down to press a kiss against your lips. “Remember the safe word?” He questions, his dominant facade faltering for a moment. No matter how rough he was with you, he always wanted to make sure you were okay, and felt safe enough to stop.

“Loofah.” He laughs, remembering when you first came up with it. You were in the shower and it was the first thing that came to your mind. It was silly, but it works.

“Good girl.” He mumbles, kissing you again.

He pulls his pants off along with his boxers, throwing them in the growing pile on the floor. He spits in his hand, stroking his cock a few times before sliding it in between your folds.

He teases for a moment, sliding back and forth and tapping your clit. You squirm underneath him, the only way to tell him what you need without using your words. He smiles before pushing all the way inside of you.

“Shit.” He groans. “So fucking tight. Missed this pussy so fucking much, baby.” He groans as he pulls out and slams all the way back in.

He’s just got inside of you, and you’re already a moaning mess. Leaving you on the brink of an orgasm must’ve helped with that.

He keeps pulling out nearly all the way before pushing back in a few times, making you writhe and moan from underneath him. Suddenly, he lets out a deep growl, and grabs your hips. Pulling you into him, as he fucks himself into you at a fast pace.

You’re nearly screaming from the pleasure before he wraps a hand around your throat. “I said be quiet.” He whispers, his thrusts not faltering for one moment. You nod your head, as he keeps his hand attached to your neck.

You can feel your arousal dripping out of you and on to the bed, only furthering your need for a release. Eddie can feel your walls closing around him as you try to push yourself back from falling over the threshold.

He looks at you with a devious smirk on his face. He removes his hand from your throat and places it on your clit. Rubbing fast circles while reminding you to hold it.

Your legs are shaking, as a tear falls down your cheek. Trying to keep your orgasm inside is getting harder and harder by the minute. But, you see a glimmer of hope once you feel him twitching inside of you.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He chants, he thrusts getting a little sloppier. He doesn’t even warn you before you feel his cum coating the inside of your walls. “Go on, baby. You’ve been so good for me. Cum for me.”

He continues thrusting slowly inside you, while rubbing your button to help you reach what was already about to fall. With a scream of his name, your head falls back as your body twitches underneath him. The wave of pleasure hitting you like you’ve never felt before.

His fingers continue to rub you, slowing down as you try to find your breath again. He bends down to meet your face, placing soft kisses all across your face before meeting your lips.

“You okay?” You nod, a light chuckle escaping your throat. “You did so well baby.” He praises, kissing along your neck before pulling out. “Let me go grab a towel to clean you up.” He pecks your lips before climbing off the bed.

“Hey, Eddie…” He turns around, eyes softer than before. “Can you uncuff me first?” He gasps, running over to unlock the cuffs around your wrists. He grabs your hands in his and starts placing soft kisses along the skin.

“I’ll be right back.” He runs to the bathroom before returning with a warm washcloth. Gently, he slides it across you. Cooing about how good you were.

“I love you.” He turns to you, wrapping himself around you.

“I love you too.” You smile, kissing his forehead.

“No more fighting, right?” He lifts his head, puppy dog eyes on full display.

“No more fighting.” You smile. “Unless it results in you fucking me like that.”

He laughs, pulling you to lay on top of his chest. “Also… I know you did that shit on purpose.”

You gasp, holding your chest pretending to be offended by his accusation. “Well it worked, didn’t it?”

[wisedelusionalmarshmallow]

@rosekillermicrofic, September 3rd - Dressed, T, Word Count - 472

can be read as part 2 to Dust

Regulus was frustratedly muttering something to Barty, but he wasn’t really listening right now. Too distracted by the events that led him here tonight, with Regulus sitting in front of him and angrily flipping through a spellbook he borrowed from the library. 

What was supposed to be a quick visit to the library to find a book for potions turned into a pretty interesting trip when he found one of his best mates snogging a certain Gryffindor.

The only thing that pulls him out of his thoughts is a knock on the door. “Can I come in?” Evan asks, presumably here to get his book.

“Er… I’m not dressed,” Regulus quickly says, flipping through the pages faster, trying to find a spell to hide the bruises all over his neck.

Barty can almost see the way Evan pauses and furrows his brows behind the door. “Okay? That’s never been an issue before.”

Deciding to clear up some confusion and be a little shit, Barty pipes up. “He’s got hickies!”

“What!?” Evan exclaims from outside the dorm.

Shooting Barty a glare, Regulus angrily whispers to him. “Why would you say anything!?”

“Whoops,” he smirks, leaning back onto his bed.

“I’m coming in,” Evan announces, leaving no room for argument.

In a last-ditch attempt to hide the marks—even though everyone already knows about them—Regulus pulls a random scarf from his trunk and ties it around his neck. Not realizing that it was James’ until he saw Evan enter the room and burst out into laughter.

“Not dressed my ass.” He closes the door and sits next to Regulus, who buries his head in his hands. Embarrassed enough to turn the colour of the scarf, but smitten enough to then only focus on how it still smells like his boyfriend.

“Shut up,” he says through clenched teeth. Of course, Evan doesn’t listen, deciding to ask another question. "Wait, so who—?”

“Potter,” Barty answers, all too happily. This just causes Evan to laugh even louder. “Your brother’s friend? You’re fucked, mate.”

“Shut up!” Regulus repeats, still as red as a tomato. 

“By the way…it’s page 293.” Barty gestures towards the spell book still open next to Regulus.

“And why do you have that memorized?” he asks, getting some of his composure back and looking up to the other boy.

Barty just raises an eyebrow at him. Regulus is confused for a second before looking between him and Evan, then back and forth a few times. A look of disgust then passes over his face. “In our dorm?” he asks a little hesitantly.

Both boys avoid eye contact.

Regulus gets up from where he was sitting, exasperated. “Ėvidemment…chiens. J’habite avec les chiens,” he mumbles to himself.

Leaning closer to Evan, Barty whispers in his ear. “What’s he saying?”

“He’s calling us dogs,” he whispers back.

“Makes sense.”

[ooouuunahnah]

We all have our vices; for Izuku Midoriya it’s you.

Enjoy this Izuku x Str!pper reader one shot

Plz excuse grammar and spelling errors I did not spell check

Minors DNI

“I need new friends.” Is all Izuku can think about when the smell of sweat and ass is clouding his senses. His so called ‘friends’ have kidnapped him from his comfortable solitude of self pity and have dragged him to see an ‘exotic’ dancer show. Yea, they brought him to a strip club; to somehow distract him from the fact that the love of his life has dumped him and is probably screwing his junior.

He doesnt blame Ochako, they were both too busy loving their careers more than each other; it couldn’t be helped.

“PLEASE JUST ONE CHEEK!?” A few feet away from him Mineta is practically harassing a dancer whose resemblance to Jessica rabbit is uncanny.

His perverted friend is on his knees, shaky hands clamped in front of him and elephant tears streaming from his face. “I’LL GIVE YOU ALL OF MY MONEY IF YOU JUST SIT ON MY FACEEE.”

Izuku frowns his face up. “What’s that look for?” He turns his attention to the beautiful headache who helped drag him here, Mina.

“I wanna go home.” She rolls her eyes, “You’re a grown man Deku you’re free to come and go wherever you please.” He starts to stand up when Mina practically body slams him back into his seat and crash landing onto his lap.

Izuku exhales but it comes out strained, “Don’t you think Ejirou would be a tad bit upset if he sees his girl sitting on his friends lap?”

She takes a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, “We’re on the outs.” Izuku adjusts himself and leans back (might as well get comfortable since he’s stuck here).

“Ooh I can tell, you tend to do disrespectful shit whenever he pisses you off.” Which is quite often I might add.

She leans into me, swirling her glass of champagne. *sigh* “I went to through his phone.” She says putting the glass to her lips and gulping down half of its contents.

I lean further into my seat, it’s gonna be a long night. “And?” I take the champagne from her and buck the rest and she puts her chin in the hand that was just holding her glass.

“There are girls literally flooding his DM’s and I don’t even wanna talk about his snap chat.” I wince knowing that she’d find a pretty similar situation in my phone.

But in both of our defense, “They’re probably just a bunch of thirsty fans. What makes you think he’s replied to any of them.”

Her glare is deadly, “You both are disgusti- you know what tonight isn’t about me it’s about how my best friend dumped you on your ass and you’re being a whiny baby about it.”

I return her glare, “Oh I’m the whiny one but you’re sitting on my lap bitching about a few thirst traps sent to, and I quote,” (throwing up air quotes to emphasize my point) “your man that’s not your man.”

“You know what you’re hurt so I’m going to let that one slide.” I roll my eyes as she continues. “As I was saying tonight is about you getting laid by a hot stripper and possibly forgetting about your failed attempt at love.”

A mix of pain and annoyance flutters through my chest at the mention of my failure as a boyfriend ..and a man. A solemn expression takes over my face much to Mina’s disdain.

“Stop that.” “Stop what ?” “That face, stop feeling sorry for yourself. I love Ochako to death but she’s not worth loosing yourself over.” I let out a breath, “Well it feels like I’ve already lost myself.” “Well then,” she smiles sinisterly. “Let’s get you a stripper who can help you find it. ”

She jumps up with newfound enthusiasm. “I’m gonna find you the BADDEST bitch of the bunch. And she’s going to be all yours for the night.” She promises, I offer her a small smile then she turns and leaves eager to complete her mission.

She’s gone all but five minutes before she returns jumping up and down with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. “Izuku get up get up I found her.” She pulls on my arms urging me up, I eye her suspiciously

unconvinced, “You found her that quick ?” “YES. She’s so fine if you don’t hit I will.” I laugh at her genuinely amused, “Their job is to dance not fuck.” She waves me off and continues to lead me to the mystery girl, “Yea yea I heard that in a Cardi B song but trust me you’ll want to.

Before I know it I’m sitting down in a led lit room with a pole and stage, soft music playing in the background. “Hi.” She smiles at me, “H-hi.” I clear my throat, she’s beautiful, like drop dead gorgeous. I’m thinking 5’7-8, brown eyes, black volumous coils just above her shoulders, lips full and two toned no less. Fuck, her lips.

And a body that could definitely take away my worries for the night. She tilts her head noticing my staring, I meet her eyes again. “Um what’s your name ?” “S/N” (stage/name) “I mean your real name”, amusement lacing my voice. She leans into me ,“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would yes” my voice dropping to a whisper as she closes in, we lock eyes and just when I think she might come in for a kiss she pulls away and to my surprise straddles me. “None of my clients know my real name” I tense as she moves her hips against me. “Maybe I’m special” my hands land on her hips,

“Not that special”. I’m growing hard, in the span of 15 minutes she had grind on me in ways I didn’t even know someone could. She’s about to sit back down on me when I grab her hips trying to catch a breath. Stopstopstopstopstop, I let out a huff trying to contain myself and she looks at me in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” she asks and I word vomit, “Nothing nothing you’re amazing really but this is really REALLY turning me on and I know you’re just doing your job so I don’t want to make it weird and you feel how you’re affecting me and it creeps you out and makes you uncomfortable and-“ , her beautiful laughter interrupts my rant.

She makes her way to me and straddles my lap, it’s not weird it’s normal happens all the time”, she proceeds to move her hips directly over my erect dick. My voice is strained, “Does it not make you uncomfortable?” “ Sometimes but it’s part of the job.”

In this case tho you were very respectful and honest on your part, I’m not used to that”, she leans in wrapping her arms around my neck voice dropping to a whisper, “kinda turns me on.” My dick jumps at the praise and she must feels it because she picks up her pace quicker than the music.

My hips unconsciously meets hers and she moans softly at the feeling. My hands tighten on her waist, “Sweetheart.. I’m going to cum in my pants if you keep this up.” This time she lifts her hips up a bit to drag herself down harder on me and I shudder at the friction created, she leaning and whispers aginst my lips, “As long as I get off too.”

A smirk spreads across my face, “That can be arranged.” Before I can think to stop myself I press my lips to hers fully swallowing her moans and tasting her on my tounge as she slides hers in my mouth. Then I’m on her neck kissing licking and sucking anywhere I can, anywhere she’ll allow me to all while drinking in her delicious Moans.

She taste so good, how can anyone’s skin taste this good??? “ I just wanna eat you up.” I whisper aginst her skin, she laughs in response but it’s cut off by a moan when hold her tighter and ground her against me.

I can help but feel everything I can, I’m touching her waist her breast her ass, my hands would be in her beautiful hair if they weren’t already occupied. I can practically feel her through my pants with the growing wet spot I already know is there.

Her Rythum is slowing and she’s tugging on my hair and I’m cuming. I’m coming in my fucking pants in a strip club hunching one of the dancers of all things. The music has stopped and the sound of our heavy breathing fills the room, I’m still squeezing her ass cuz it’s a really nice ass and my hands have become content being there. “Fuck.”

I whisper against her skin “Fuck.” She repeats, I have a feeling she’s never done this with one of her clients before but I think we can both agree that it was one of the most intense orgasms we’ve ever had…with our clothes still on at that. She pulls back first and I lift my head to look at her.

She’s so pretty with her hair ruffled, lips swollen, and her breath uneven.” “That was..” “Amazing” ,I finish for her, she bites her lip at that. I place a kiss against her neck, “Let’s do it again..” She laughs softly, “We’ll see about that, maybe at your next visit?”

I’m getting hard again at the thought of coming back and sharing another mind blowing orgasm. I whisper aginst her lips, “It’s a date.” “Y/N,” “What?” “My name, it’s Y/N.” My chest warms at the confession, “You can call me Deku.” “That’s not your name.” I lean in and tuck a loose curl behind her ear, “I’ll tell you next time.” She rolls her eyes playfully, “It’s a date.”

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-ten

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: I don't think you guys understand how broken this gif made us. Fuck, creating it killed me! Also, during the hotel scene, listen to snuff by slipknot. It's on the playlist! Some eggs from other songs on the playlist throughout the chapter as well! Enjoy my loves!

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here

NICK R.

My heart raced as Jolly and I met each other in the dimly lit hotel hallway, sleep still heavy in our eyes and bones. When he called me a few minutes ago, I rushed out of bed where I was crashing in Matt’s room and knew that it could have been about one thing.

Noah.

“What happened?” I asked.

Jolly ran a hand over his exhausted face. “I don’t know. I haven’t walked inside yet and I’m afraid of what I’m going to see.”

“Y/N. He kicked me out earlier tonight because she was coming by,” I said, remembering suddenly.

“Shit,” Jolly cursed before nodding behind me towards Folio. “No matter what we walk into, we don’t judge him. Whatever happened fucked him up enough that he needs to write a song at three in the morning.”

Folio agreed. “How bad is he?”

I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”

Jolly turned towards the door and knocked gently.

“Yeah.”

The voice that called back was not Noah; this voice sounded broken, and distant, with the single word that was uttered.

“It’s me,” Jolly spoke through the door.

Realizing that Noah was most likely not in a state to answer the door, I handed Jolly my room key and we all sucked in a breath when the light on the lock turned green; us walking into the room one at a time. There was music playing, soft beats echoing off the wall, and I hoped no one would complain to the front desk about the noise.

My bed was still as I left it but Noah’s bed was disheveled with a pair of underwear that clearly weren’t his and a small piece of what I expected was a condom wrapper. Noah’s original clothes from earlier that evening were on the floor at the edge of the bed.

Shit.

Noah was on the floor leaning against the wall with a bottle of Hennessy in hand, more than half gone, and his hair was in a disarray of braids.

“Noah,” Jolly said quietly while bending down in front of him.

He waved a hand in front of his face as his head bobbed slowly. “I’m good, man. I just wanted to get this beat down. It’s in my head.”

“She wouldn’t stay, would she?” I questioned while motioning towards the bed.

“Didn’t need to. Jus’ friends. ‘S’all it’s come to. She didn’t need to and I don’t really fucking care. I don’t. No sweat off ma back,” he finished the rest of the bottle before letting it slip from his fingers. “I’m fine. F.I.N.E.”

The three of us shared a painful wince as he spelled out the word two more times.

As if whoever was watching over us from above, just then that specific song by Too Close To Touch came blasting through the small portable speaker Noah always brought with.

“See?” Noah pointed to the air around him. “Even fucking Keaton is telling you guys I’m fine.”

But then, he slammed his head against the wall behind him as his bottom lip trembled, his chest caving in at hearing his best friend's voice play throughout the room. Noah was only rubbing more salt in his wounds and fuck, they burned.

“Why the fuck aren’t you here, man?” he choked out. “You knew her better than us. What did I do? Why’d she leave?”

Keaton’s name felt like ice in our hearts and I knew it was a stabbing pain through Noah’s chest.

“Whatever,” Noah grumbled, wiping angrily at his face. “Her decision; bad decision. Fuck her. I need to write.”

“Noah, come on, don’t say shit you’re gonna regret,” Folio spoke. “You can’t write when you’re drunk. You know that.”

“M’not. She jus’ my good friend. I fucking knew I wasn’t enough for her.”

He was far gone, not even realizing that Folio and I stood behind Jolly, our own somber expressions weighing heavily on our faces.

Finally, his eyes opened and when he saw all three of us, Noah groaned.

“Oh, great ya called them?” He pointed towards us. “I don wanna hear I told you so, erm stubborn. Yadayadsa.”

His words slurred together, stumbling over his tongue.

Folio peered around the room, counting the empty bottles. “I’m counting two.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Apparently he’s been sitting here awhile.”

“You know I can’t stay; you deserve better than me,” Noah chuckled, imitating Y/N’s voice.

Jolly peered over his shoulder at us and his lips were pulled in a tight line, all of us thinking the same thing.

“Noah” I sighed with my hands on my hips.

His head snapped up, eyes red with tears so close to falling but they wouldn’t. Noah was always in control of his emotions; he refused to cry in front of us.

“She told me what I felt, she told me what I wanted and what I didn’t. Didn’t give me a fucking say about anything before she walked the fuck out. Left. Gone,” he rambled on.

“She’s going through-,” Folio started.

“Fuck that,” Noah seethed with clenched fists in his lap. “I don’-don’t care right now, in this moment. She fucking stole my heart and took it with ‘er. Jus’ friends.”

The last two words sounded bitter on his tongue, like acid.

While we let him wallow in the pain, I motioned for Jolly and Folio to walk to the other side of the room, out of earshot from Noah.

“Should we ask Malcom or Chase what the fuck happened?” Jolly asked.

“Do you think she told them?” Folio wondered.

I shrugged while crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t doubt that. She likes him, we know she does. It’s clear.”

“Then why did she leave?” Jolly questioned, his own pain for Noah making his jaw clench. “What the fuck happened to make her leave?”

I gazed over to Noah, my heart falling into my stomach at the broken sight of my brother. “He jumped. He jumped but Y/N wasn’t there yet.”

The three of us made a quick plan of action before Jolly and Folio went to help Noah up off the floor, his limp body dragging on the floor.

“Noah let’s get into bed,” Folio suggested.

“No. I need to finish this beat, and these fuckin’ lyrics in my head,” he pushed himself away from them, standing on two shaky feet but standing. He smacked his forehead over and over.

Jolly nodded. “We will, but first you need to get some sleep.”

He glared at the bed in front of him, a mess of the decision they made together.

“…the pillow.. she was on that one,” Noah pointed. “It smells like that fucking perfume, I don-wanna inhale that shit right now.”

There was so much venom in his voice when he spoke about Y/N and there was a part of me that hoped this wouldn’t last long. He had every right to be upset with her; he gave her his heart, and she walked away.

“Alright, then let’s get you some sleep in mine,” I said.

He licked his lips, an unreadable look flashing in bloodshot eyes. “I still fucking taste her. It’s a poison that I should have fucking avoided.”

“Can’t help you with that, brother,” Folio tried to joke.

No one laughed

“No. I need to finish this-,” Noah stumbled over to his suitcase to snatch a piece of paper and pen, something he always kept on him.

I stepped in front of him to hold him steady, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. It was as if it was trying to break free to chase after Y/N; just for her to stomp on it again.

No, I shook my head, you can’t let your own anger deter you from trying to fix Noah. You can be angry about the situation but not her. It’s no one's fault.

“You don’t like to write when you’re not home,” I tried to take the pen and paper away from him.

“I don’ care nicKLas.” He pushed past me to fall onto his bed, ass first on the pillow. “I have to, right now.”

Sensing the sudden thick tension, not knowing what the next thing would be that would set him off, Jolly gave a slow nod toward Noah.

“Alright. Let it go, man. Let us hear it.”

Even though they weren’t written down, Noah still burned his gaze into the empty page in front of him. Through the slurred words, the ache that poured out of him brought chills to my bones.

“How quick it gets lonely here at the top. Her skin feels unholy but I’m still drawn. The morals I’m holding, you know they’re gone.”

Fuck, that was good.

Noah’s eyes snapped over to us. “Why aren’t you helping me get down this beat?”

I held my arms out to the empty room. “We don’t have our stuff here Noah, this isn’t usually how we do this.”

“Fuck,” he ran a shaky hand over his chin. “Ok well then here! Voice clip it.”

While he tossed his phone to Jolly, who barely caught it in time, I gave Folio a look of luck before slipping out of the room, almost running into Matt who stood at the open doorway.

“Who the fuck is blasting Snuff by Slipknot at four in the morning?” He asked with fury.

No doubt someone called the front desk and complained who in turn complained to Matt.

“Woah, what the fuck is going on right now?” Matt took a tentative step into the room, eyeing the situation.

“Didn’t you hear, fucker?” Noah whipped his head towards us so fast, that the braids smacked around his face. “She ran away, she’s the fuckin same.”

He hiccuped a sob. “Angels lie to keep control.”

“Fuck's sake,” Jolly pinched his nose with a sigh.

I gave Matt’s shoulder a squeeze. “Just keep an eye on Noah, he’s not in a good place right now.”

“Fuck, don’t tell me-,” he stuffed his hands into the pocket of his sweater.

“Just- let me handle it man,” I slipped past him out of the room and quick steps took me to the elevator.

I bounced on the soles of my feet as I repeatedly pushed the down floor button and cursed when the doors finally opened. Blackness took over as I let the images of Noah sitting there broken carry me to the room, hand pounding on the door.

Time be damned. I couldn't care less if she was asleep right now. How could she be asleep while my best friend, my brother, was fucking dying on the inside?

Not again. I refused to let him sink for another.

“Nick?” Chase squinted with the sudden light blasting in from the hallway. “Everything alright?”

“Where is she?”

He continued to stare at me with narrowed eyes. “Who? Y/N?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Is she here?”

I tried to peer past him but only saw someone with auburn curls walk behind Chase, leaving a gentle hand on his back. “What’s going on?”

“Nick’s looking for Y/N,” Chase informed Malcolm.

He stared at me confused. “Last I heard she was going to hang out with Noah. Did something happen?”

“What the fuck do you think?” I snapped but then let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an asshole but she left. Noah’s a fucking wreck. It seemed like they had a great time- so what’s the deal? I thought she cared for him. Why, why would she hurt my friend?”

I was the middle child, great at negotiating, great at being the middle man. The one who would try to settle things. I was on Noah’s side with this one, she’s my friend, but he’s my brother. Even I didn’t see this coming. I tried to remain neutral when I asked them and tried not to look annoyed.

“Dude- she does, she cares for him a lot,” Malcolm spoke while tying up his curls. “Noah makes her so happy. We haven’t seen her glow like that in years, I just- I don’t know. We don’t know why she would leave. Unless…”

Chase quickly pushed Malcolm back into the room slightly. “Dude, no. That’s not our business to tell. She has to be the one to decide.”

“What?!” I asked.

They knew something, and I needed to know; right now.

“That’s her business, not ours,” Chase said, rubbing his head.

“What?,” I scoffed. “Is she fucking dying or something? Is she okay?”

“No, no, she’s fine. All I’ll say is she does things in her life that can require extra attention. But like I said, that’s not for us to discuss, even with you man, sorry,” he pauses and says again. “Is he- is Noah alright?”

“Honestly? No. He isn’t, he’s drunk and writing right now. He’s gonna feel like hell when we have to leave for the airport in a few hours.”

Malcolm sighed. “I’m sorry dude. When Y/N comes back, we’re going to have to have a long talk. We know she cares for your friend, Nick. Her heart is in the right place- we just don’t know where the hell her mind is. We’ll figure it out.”

I nod and smile slightly, in agreement. My eyes want to convey a lot more. Y/N’s a good person, but she broke my friend's heart tonight. This is why I was so hesitant about this relationship with him and Y/N. I warned Noah not to jump yet, but he did.

All I could do right now until she came back was nod a quick thanks to them and hope that Y/N would confide in them. I wanted to fix my friend's broken soul so often, and so often I tried and succeeded. I wasn’t sure I could with this one- I needed to let them go through this on their own. But I’ll be damned if I let my friend suffer.

“Alright well, let me know what you find out, please.”

“Absolutely, anytime man. We’ll talk,” Chase reassured with a nod, Malcolm bumping fists with mine.

When I made it back to Noah’s room, I noticed the guys huddled around Noah’s slumped body in the bed, clutching the pillow Y/N laid on close to his chest, snoring loudly, and another empty bottle of Hennessy next to him.

“Shit,” I breathed. “Another one?”

Matt sighed defeated. “We tried, man. But his strength when he’s drunk and angry is something not to mess with. You know that.”

I nodded because I knew that. All too well.

“He only fell asleep about five minutes ago. I don’t know how we’re going to get him up in two hours so we can make our flights,” Folio wondered.

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured them. “Did he finish writing?”

“Yeah,” Matt slowly went towards the end of the bed, gently pulling the book from under Noah’s arm; pen falling from his hands.

“What does it say?” My brows raised as I took the paper in my hands; my brothers' broken words staring back at me.

Bitter ends to the nights. I’m along for the ride. Out of breath, out of time. Everything has a price. You can be all I got, what’s the difference? Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions. All I know, all I know is bad, bad decisions.

“Gotta admit, it’s fucking good,” Jolly said while he read the lyrics over my shoulder.

I bit my lip. “Yeah.”

Folio yawned loudly while stretching, exhausted body falling onto my bed. “Get ready boys because once we’re home, we won’t have a moment of peace. We’re writing a new record.”

NICK R.

You could cut the tension with a knife in this boarding gate right now.

The sun barely broke through the thick glass of the windows as Bad Omens and Hollow Souls sat on other ends of the gate, waiting for our flights to be called. With tired but intent eyes, I watched Noah as he kept his eyes cast down to his hands, fingers intertwining with each other as he picked away the black nail polish. It was as though it was his subconscious way of chipping pieces of Y/N away, the way he washed his hands in the restroom earlier, scrubbing her off him.

His nails were surely, going to bleed if he kept picking at them, I wanted to intervene, say stop that. I needed him to process his feelings. I so badly wanted to scream in this airport, wake the fuck up, to them both. But I kept my reservations.

And just like him, Y/N looked rough. It was clear neither of them, or well any of us got any sleep last night.

Where the fuck did they go so wrong together?

Noah had been a fan of hers ever since that night on my pull-out couch but the first time they met each other almost 2 months ago, their eyes were bright with a vibrant gaze. Almost like searchlights attempting to find something. The lights found it, but they were almost too intense, almost like bystanders. Through all the confusion, I knew deep within me it wouldn’t be long until the searchlights were searching again, just a matter of when.

Us?

We weren’t allowed to see what was being found. We should have looked away, and avoided the crash. But to see them now, those same eyes swollen, discolored and raw red, the blood vessels wanting to leave their faces made it harder to look away.

Noah ran a hand through his hair, now out of the braids and cascading around his shoulder, and let his eyes graze over towards Y/N, who was resting her head against Chase's shoulder. It was brief, the look of agony in them, but he looked away before she could catch him.

The airline called out for Vegas first; Chase and Y/N’s flight. Then our flight back home to LA was called out seconds later.

Those two sets of eyes, continue to gaze and plead and beg until their shoulders are tapped, Jolly to Noah and Chase to Y/N. As he stood, Noah adjusted the bag on his shoulder and waved his fingers in a peace sign toward the three members of Hollow Souls. This wasn’t how we wanted our new friendships and tour to end.

He wants to be in her life. He still does, otherwise, he wouldn’t have done that. I thought to myself as I noticed Y/N gave her one peace sign to all of us.

She’s sorry, she wants him in her life and regrets it.

I could fucking see it. This was going to be a long ride with these two.

As we all stood with our carry-on bags, ready to walk towards our gate, I gave Chase a knowing nod who immediately pulled out his phone, avoiding the eyes of Y/N, to send me a message.

I’ll tell you everything

Noah slept the entire flight, not speaking a word or even opening his eyes. Now, as we pulled up to the house he said with Jolly, Orie, Michael, and Jesse, Noah still had yet to say one word. Folio offered to stay with but we knew he had someone to meet back home in Virginia so we told him we had it from here.

“You sure?” Folio asked before we boarded the plane.

I nodded. “Yeah, go back to Virgina. Tell her we said hey.”

I, on the other hand, was a different story.

“I’m not going home right now,” I told Noah as I set my bags down in their living room. They had little extra space, but I didn’t care. I’d sleep on the couch as long as I was near my brother. “I won’t leave you in this state, Noah.”

“Nick, I’m a grown man. I’ll be alright,” he sighed while popping open the bottle of aspirin, and swallowing two pills dry.

For the hangover.

“I know you are,” I nodded. “Just let me be there for you, okay?”

NOAH

If it wasn’t terrible enough that not only did my fucking love life shut down, but the world had to as well?

Two months. It’s been almost two months since the tour ended and this pandemic took over the world, forcing us to stay stuck inside. While the rest of the guys went stir-crazy after the first few weeks, I spent the solace writing, drinking, and trying to forget about her.

The latter lasted only a few minutes once we returned home; her scent being stained into my skin, her touch engraved deep into my bones it made it hard to get out of bed. I see her in all my mirrors. Her reflection was haunting me relentlessly like a ghost.

Hennessy and Jack have become my friends in the last few weeks at home. I knew the guys were worried; I didn’t need them to worry. I was fine.

Y/N and I are friends.

Right, then how come you haven’t texted her in weeks?

Because she’s been busy with the move, I retorted back to my own thoughts.

Malcolm texted our Hollow Omens group chat to let us know that Y/N was settling in nicely in their new apartment in Los Angeles. We can come by anytime for a housewarming party but immediately I ignored that. Wouldn’t it be fucking awkward?

Trey wasn’t home when she and Chase showed up to pack her things so they could leave without incident.

Even with her cat Salem.

Chase sent a few pictures of the cat in the group chat, long black fur lying on his chest. I never responded, simply liking the messages before setting my phone on silent the rest of the night. I noticed that Y/N rarely ever responded in the chat as well, only when Chase or Malcolm would ask her something but she would only reply with emojis or a short ‘ok.’

The pandemic was only getting started and I could feel the suffocation kick in. I felt alone; utterly alone. I put all my heart into this one woman, a woman I yearned for, for a long time.

The loud ringing of the doorbell pulled me from my melancholy thoughts and I sighed, almost forgetting I ordered food an hour ago. I was in such a trance I hadn’t realized the noise of the loud bell eased me out of my rocking back and forth on the couch.

I didn’t even notice I did that.

I took a massive swig of my jack and clenched my teeth as it burned all the way down my throat, heart racing a mile a minute.

Calm down, calm down.

Time slowed, or passed by in a blaze? I wasn’t sure the longer I sat in the somewhat dark living room, open but untouched food container on the table in front of me as the chicken scratch of my handwriting teased back at me.

Why’s this always gotta happen to me? I should have known. I never fail to never learn from mistakes, still throwing stones. Blood signed, we made it a pact. Yours dried out; you took it back.

The alcohol was like battery acid as I took another large swing of Jack but it wasn’t kicking in strong enough. I kept swinging until the burn covered up my pain.

Harper’s soft whines from her perch next to me on the couch pulled at my heartstrings so knowing Orie wasn’t here, I fed her a few pieces of my cold dinner.

The front door opened, voices carrying from the entryway into the living room and my heart hammered with the panic of them seeing me like this. I hid the bottle under the pillow and tossed the small bag into the garbage from my food.

“Shit, Noah. Why are you sitting in the dark?” Jolly asked while turning on the lamp next to the sofa I was sitting on.

“Hi,” My voice was soft because now with the bright lights, the room was spinning.

“You working on another song?” He eyed the bottle that stuck out from behind the pillow, irritation in his eyes.

They matched my own.

I chewed roughly on my bottom lip. “Yes, man, what do you think?”

“Don’t be hostile, go eat and let me look over it,” Jolly motioned to my food while he reached for the pad of paper.

“You can’t just tell me what to do,” I snapped while reaching for it before he could.

“Noah, you gotta eat so you don’t get hungover. Let me look at the song,” he took the pad of paper and walked over to the other side of the room. Once he fell into the chair in the corner of the room, Jolly nodded up at me. “Fucking eat, Noah”

I sighed and grabbed my food to chew slowly, “Okay Dad”

Jesse stalked into the living room a few moments later while stuffing his phone into his pocket. “Nick said there might be news of the ban lifting completely by the end of the month. Which means we can get a change of scenery. Might be good for us.”

Holy Hades, this is one of those times I wished I lived alone.

Shortly after getting back home, the pandemic started and Nick ended up getting stuck with us in LA. He didn’t mind, more time for us to hang and chill, but now that procedures were lifting slowly at a time, he took the first opportunity to fly back to Virginia to get things settled there.

“Hey,” Jesse sat on the arm of Jolly’s chair. “Is this another song?”

Even though my head was throbbing with the ongoing hangover, I leaned back into the couch while nodding and Harper now rested her whole body in my lap. “It’s the third one.”

“Oh? Nice! Let me see” He began flipping through the pages.

Normally, I’d jump and take the book from his hands, but right now this room was in spirals. I was sick to my knees. All I wanted to do was call her, and have her tell me it’ll be fine. But I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet, and she wasn’t ready to talk to me either.

Clearly.

Malcolm texted me the other day, outside of the Hollow Omens group chat to tell me that Y/N wasn’t doing okay and she missed me. She wanted to talk to me and wanted us over one night when the bans were lifted. But if that was the truth, then how come the last text I had on my phone from her was right before she came to my hotel room that night?

Her unholy skin tasted like the forbidden fruit, all the morals we held that night gone. No gods, no religion. Just our bad decisions. Memories of the way she looked while on top of me burned into my brain and I couldn’t forget the way she felt coming undone.

It paralyzed me so much so that I left Malcolm on read for two days.

Thanks man, glad it worked out. Be in touch.

Snapping out of my drunken thoughts, I noticed Jesse was still reading the pages, not giving a damn I’m leaving my heart out on the table in front of him, bleeding all over while he was reading it.

“Bad Decisions. Nice,” Jesse nodded before flipping back to the new song I was working on. “Nowhere to go? Angsty. I like it.”

I shrugged and stopped mid-chew. “Yeah, I know. It’s what I do, Jesse.”

Arrogant? No, it was smart; I had to channel this shit somewhere. I knew this, no matter what, I’ll always write a fucking song. I wanted to panic, and I did, but the liquor was doing its job.

Jolly went to grab the guitar while Jesse moved to the couch, Harper now lying in his lap.

Traitor.

As I reached for the bottle of Jack this time, Jolly hastily ripped it from my hands and to exhausted to fight, I let him.

“No. Let’s add a chorus to Nowhere To Go, yeah?”

“Sure, yeah, I got something in mind.” I took the notebook back to jot some more words down.

After a few moments, I read the entire thing a few times, making sure it was perfect before I gave it to him.

“Start with this?” He asked.

I nodded then soon, my thoughts became words into the air.

“Hear me out, I’m sorry, but I’m a little less than sold. I’ve been around, heard all the stories you said you never told. You’re used to speaking in tongues to feel like you’re in control. Now you’ve got nowhere to run, now you’ve got nowhere to go. Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice? Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice?”

“Fuck, that sounds amazing, Noah. Let’s finish this.” Jolly mused,

That night, we finished Bad Decisions and Nowhere to Go.

Folio

Noah began smoking weed again, on top of all the alcohol he’d been consuming the last few weeks, he was on a downward spiral. It was only in small doses but that’s how the drinking started; he took up this faux savior persona.

“I can save myself,” he’d say after one of us would bring up how worried we were about him.

It was a load of shit. Any of us could tell you that.

This was the first time I’d seen him since the tour ended, all those months ago, but time away did nothing to help his mental state. Noah was breaking, piece by piece, and now that the ban lifted, we could visit again. Hence Nick and I were hanging out in their living room, a soft beat of music playing on the speakers.

Noah came bounding down the stairs, smelling of whiskey and weed, eyes glassy, rosy, and filled with rage. His hands were full of ink as he’d been writing nonstop, with everlasting consistency.

As he cascaded, his stomps were harsh, and if he realized it, Noah didn’t give a shit. When he reached into the kitchen and slammed the cupboard door wide open, he grabbed a bag of pita chips with tight force, breaking a few chips no doubt.

“Why are these almost gone? I just fucking bought them?” He snapped with a smart-ass attitude.

All of us eyed each other wearily, unsure how or even if we should respond but it was Orie who muttered under his breath. “We had some with the hummus we bought earlier. Chill the fuck out, Noah. It’s not that deep.”

Noah tossed the bag onto the counter. “It is that deep when it's something of mine. Fucking ass if you want it. Why is it so hard for people to communicate?”

Michael, who usually was the quiet, almost forgotten one, finally snapped. “We’re being patient with you. But we’re not your fucking punching bag.”

Jolly’s head snapped over to Michael from his spot on the floor in front of the couch with wide eyes full of heat, I was sure vanilla ice cream would melt. Jolly was the one who let all of us know to take it easy on Noah; it was a hard time in his life, and the last thing he needed was one of us fighting with him.

Noah hadn’t spoken to Y/N in weeks and we could physically see the imaginary soul ties that bound them together withering away, even though they were within miles of each other now that she lived here. Miles apart but still couldn’t gain the fucking courage to grow up and speak to each other.

Michael sighed his apology while running a hand over his face. “We’re here for you, man. We’re being patient. But you can’t keep going on like this.”

“You’re drowning right now and the painful to watch, you haven’t been this bad in years. Let us help you,” Nick spoke with a shaky breath.

Out of all of us, it hurt him the most to see Noah like this because he’d seen it before; only this time it was worse.

“You can’t help me, nothing to help me with. I’m fine,” Noah shrugged before reaching for another beer.

“You’re in denial and it’s ridiculous,” I said, tired of seeing and hearing the same bullshit. “Noah, I think you should see someone.”

“A shrink? Seriously?” He snorted.

“I think it can help you, besides the way music does,” I offered.

“I don’t need you to help me, I just want the racing to stop. The racing in my mind going miles a minute,” He slammed a finger to the side of his head repeatedly. “We have so much shit to do, and I can’t see anything but what happened right now. It’s a fuckin loop in my brain. Everything just keeps glitching.”

Noah then paced the length of the kitchen, red sweater pulled tightly against his chest and hood over his eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry man, I’m sorry I just- fuck” he spat, a tear fell out of his eye but was quick to wipe it away.

Vulnerability be damned

“We’re your friends, we love you. We were stuck in this fucking house together for months. We can’t go anywhere and you don’t want us to worry? Well, too fucking bad because we do,” Orie explained with a tense-looking Harper in his lap.

She didn’t like the sudden noise but didn’t want to leave her dad.

Noah’s glossy eyes took in all our faces one by one, lingering a few seconds longer than the last.

“I just need time, I don’t know how to handle this, it’s- it’s weird for me. I’m uncomfortable. I don’t think I’ve fallen this hard, this fast,” he admitted while swallowing the lump in his throat.

That much was true. He’s had exes, one-night stands; hell, he’s been in love before- but I’ve never seen it develop this way. We’ve never seen him fall from such a high altitude this quickly. His guards are usually pointed like sharp knives, but it was so easy for him to dull them down for her.

I only hoped Y/N knew that. This was a big deal. I watched my friend crumble and crack like glass.

Time would only tell when they would repair the damage done here. I only hoped it would soon because we hated to see him bruise so easily. He’s right on the edge I fear, one more thing, one more thing and he’ll fall completely into a darkness we wouldn’t be able to pull him from.

“All I do is drink to numb the pain because all the good days we had together got taken away when my head turned on. I keep asking myself ‘why am I not good enough for her?’ How the fuck can I be good enough for her when I don’t even know what good enough is?”

None of us had an answer for him; the only one that did, he was purposely ignoring.

With a lone tear falling from his eyes, Noah wiped it away with the back of his hand, sniffles echoing in the kitchen.

“It’s so hard to watch myself win when a loser's all I've been.”

NOAH

I lay in my bed, neon glows emanating from behind my bed soaking the walls, as I stared up at the ceiling. My mind was racing so face in pace with my heart and I tried so hard to just breathe; fucking breathe to ease it. This pain was like a burning coal I was walking but within a second, all the pain was gone. I couldn’t take it anymore, the drinking, smoking, and not eating affected my health. I was skin on bones at this point.

Keaton's voice rang in my ears. “You’re a shell, Noah. Holding in these shattered nerves. A skeleton that's lost its skin and desperately wants back in.”

Tattooed hands covered my face as I blew a shaky breath into them.

“I need a sign from you, man. Give me something to know I haven’t messed it up yet,” I cried.

A second later, my phone buzzed from the spot on my bed, and through cloudy tears, I sucked in a breath when I saw Chase’s name appear with a new text.

Chase: Hey man, I haven’t heard from you the last few days, I wanted to check in with you. I know this may seem out of nowhere, but we’re worried about you and just hope you’re doing alright.

I stared up at the ceiling again, my heart relaxing its frenzied beat for a moment. “Thank you.”

Hey, all good. Sorry for the late reply. Appreciate it, doing just fine.

Chase: that’s great, but I’ve been hearing other things, so I don’t buy that. Look, again, this isn’t my place but I know Y/N hurt you that night. I can’t sit here and apologize on her behalf, but, I can at least tell you this: she isn’t doing well either; and as someone with two fucking eyes; I can see how much you mean to each other. Some birdies have been telling me you’re drinking yourself into a coma and acting a fool. I apologize for the harshness, but let me ask you this, do you think Y/N wants another Trey? You’re fucking better than that, aren’t you? Do you want to end up as another deadbeat musician with nothing to show for it but a bottle? No, I don’t know you that well but I can see you’re not that guy.

Do yourself a favor and do fucking better. Because she deserves better and so do you. So y’all can sort this soap opera shit out. Talk to you soon, I fucking hope. ✌️

With my phone clattering to the floor, the message left on read, I continued to lie in my bed; the pillow suffocating my mouth and nose.

“I’m not Trey. I’m fucking better than him,” I sat up quickly in bed, my hangover still raging inside my head.

Music is all I have, it’s all lived for-that was until I met her.

With the small get-together happening downstairs still, I ran to the bathroom across the hall to throw up any contents of lingering alcohol and pita chips. I washed my face and brushed my hair out, for the first time in weeks looking somewhat presentable.

“Get it together, you fucking dick.” I pointed a firm finger at my reflection in the mirror, thankful I didn’t see the ghost of Y/N staring back at me. “Do it for the band, do it for your music. Do it for her.”

To some, my shaky words might not have a strong belief but they did to me. It left me with the belief that miracles, no matter how inexplicable or unbelievable, are real and can occur without regard to the natural order of things. Keaton’s sign proved that.

“Just come back to me,” I whispered with trembling lips.

[randoimago]

Hi! I saw your requests were open and wanted to throw a kinda chaotic one at you! How would Shadowheart and Karlach react to find their Tav sleeping in the strangest places? Like why are they just snoozing on the ground when the bed is right there? Oh shit they’re laying in a tree like a jungle cat! Tiny closet at an Inn, oh look Tav is in there. How the fuck did they get to that tiny ledge on the cliff wall? Oh guess they climbed up because there’s a sunny spot, well they’re only twelve feet up I’m sure they’ll get down somehow

Finding Tav Sleeping in Random Ass Places

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Karlach, Shadowheart

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): Chaotic asks are fun especially with the chaotic shit that you can do in BG3

Karlach

The first few times, she got a bit worried when she couldn't find you. Her calling out to you like a lost cat probably woke you up from wherever you slept.

But then she learns that you sometimes burrow into hollowed out tree trunks and nap. Her claustrophobia would never allow her to do that, but good on you getting some sleep! Karlach can't help but make a pained face at imagining what kind of joint pain you'll have.

Karlach would attempt to take naps with you, but she can't. She's too big for most of your sleeping spots or she doesn't want to commit to how high up they are. Now, if you wanted to fall asleep while slung over her shoulder or something then she'd be happier with it.

Shadowheart

She's asking around camp about where you went because she wants to talk about something. It isn't until she sees the rustling in a tree and notices that it's you and not a squirrel that she lets out a, "Huh."

She's very amused with the spots you sleep in. Just call for her if you're attacked by an angry bird or something and you need healing.

While it is amusing to see all the random places you sleep, she would like to actually lay in a bed or in a tent to sleep with you (in more ways then one). Might make some "You know, I wouldn't be using all my spell slots to heal if you slept normally," comments due to healing any scrapes or fall damage that occured from you getting out of whatever spot you were sleeping in.

Taglists: @reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

[eve-reviews]

ㅤ Once Upon a Time is a thirteen-year old’s fanfiction that was found by the creators of Lost and stolen for a show in hopes of making some money off the teen population. If the half-formed faux-edgy characters or bad acting doesn’t sell you on just how poorly this show was made, the terrible CGI definitely will. The first season revolves around a character named Emma Swan, aka The Savior, coming to the town of Storybrooke where her son tries to convince her that the town is actually full of fairytale characters that are under a memory erasing spell. The show has a way of making you forget that you’re watching a fairytale story until later you realize that “Oh! They just had Prince Charming cheat on his wife with Snow White. And then The Evil Queen framed Snow White for the murder of Prince Charming’s wife by hiding that wife’s heart in a box in the place Snow and Charming would always meet.”

ㅤ While the first season seems Wild, each subsequent season tries to outdo itself. The following seasons follow a clear formula constantly trying to convince you that it’s a good show. The creator’s favorite persuasion is to twist the usual fairytale stories and then play a dramatic stinger underneath it as if to convince the viewer to say, “oh shit!” Each time it makes this attempt, I am met with an intense feeling, but not the intended one. It’s a burst of laughter, a burn of secondhand embarrassment, and the impulse to share it with a friend so I don’t have to go through it alone (and may I say, I think my friends are starting to get sick of me).

            The show is held together by attempts to be a show that makes the viewer sit at the edge of the seat waiting to see what happens next. These attempts often involve corrupting or redeeming a “good” or “evil” character respectively. While the show constantly brings in numerous characters from Disney movies or any other existing story for that matter (such as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, or 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea), it seems to forget this sometimes, so we are left with characters who have been corrupted and redeemed 6 times alone (in Rumpelstiltskin’s case).

            Might I also add that the show often does a twist saying that two fairytale characters were actually the same one. If we take Rumpelstiltskin as an example again, he is at least three different characters off the top of my head. He also happens to be the Crocodile from Peter Pan and the Beast from Beauty and the Beast. This isn’t even counting the family tree. Please feel free to skip the rest of this paragraph while I sort that out. Rumpelstiltskin is the son of Peter Pan (who’s evil) and the Black Fairy (who’s the origin of all evil or something?). He has a grandson, Henry, who is also the grandson of Snow White and Prince Charming. Henry also happens to be the adopted son of Regina, aka The Evil Queen. Regina if the daughter of the Queen of hearts and the sister of the Wicked Witch of the West. She’s also Snow White’s step-mother. Regina also happens to be soulmates with Robin Hood, who’s previous wife was sentenced to death by Regina before the curse. And Robin also had a daughter with the Wicked Witch but he didn’t know it was her at the time because she was pretending to be his dead wife.

            I’m stopping myself there. If you read any of that, you now hopefully know how complicated the lore is and how near impossible it is to explain. You may have also gleaned how fucking stupid it is. That was all just a small section of the family tree. The actual lore of this show involves people who are definitively good or evil (but they can be redeemed) and authors who are all powerful gods who control Everything but are also just Some Guy. And of course, a being of pure light magic called The Savior (Emma Swan aka Snow White and Prince Charming’s child) and a being of pure dark magic called The Dark One (Rumplestiltskin). I forced myself through the show. High out of my mind if I had to. And I gotta say, folks.

            I kinda love this show.

            At some point it starts to get confusing what the creators were thinking while making this show. You drive yourself crazy trying to put yourself in their heads. Do they know how dogshit it is? Are they trying to convince me this dogshit is actually fucking ratatouille? Or do they know it’s bad?

            By the end of season 6, I started to get the feeling that the writers had finally decided to accept that no one in the universe would consider this a good show; however, the show must go on so they may as well have fun with it. They finally left behind the attempts and just leaned into how bizarre the lore they’re spun truly is. They timeskip and they say. “Hey. We know that we’ve gone too far. We know we crossed a line somewhere along the way. But buddy? We’re not turning around. We’re gonna find throw back some brewskis and have a little fun.” And they decide to say that, “Actually? All those characters you just saw? The seemingly infinite number of them? That’s just the start. They’re just one of an actually infinite number of that same character that exists in the multiverse. We’re gonna make a new main character and she’s gonna be Cinderella. Yes, I know we already introduced Cinderella in season one. But this is a different Cinderella. From a different thirteen tear old’s fanfiction. “

            And so it becomes a show that clearly knows it’s bad. And I sit there and realize I had fun. And I realize that I’m still having fun. And I realize that that was the point. I spent the whole show taking everything so seriously, and for that, I partially blame the show for taking itself seriously. But somewhere along the way, the show stopped. And I followed suit shortly after. And it was fun.

            I loved watching Once Upon a Time.

[teyums]

“Everyone knows. Everyone knows. She f*cks you.”

Ao’nung headcanon (no use of yn!)

⚠️ All characters are age 18 or over in this story. I will not write Ao’nung in a suggestive manner unless he is aged up.

Wc: 1.2k

I myself haven’t seen anyone write Ao’nung as submissive so I was happy to. And personally, I think this fits him way more hehe. 🤭

includes: suggestive/strong language.

part two

• Because Ao’nung is such a dickhead and so headstrong all the time, I think its pretty damn obvious that it’s merely a tough front he puts on to throw any one off from finding out he’s submissive as hell, especially you. He’s actually a sucker for the woman he loves. This man literally WORSHIPS the ground you walk on and he lives for that shit. That big and bad act is simply a disguise to hide the fact that he’s actually a bitch boy. He would definitely listen to whatever you say and follow your directions to a T.

•He’s had women pine after him before but they quickly gave up because he’s so damn rude, leaving him with zero potential mates before you came along. No other na’vi woman was willing to put up with his attitude, or better yet, see right through that shit and squash it like you did. Or maybe no other woman had the power to. The mere thought of you was enough to get this man off, he was like putty in your hands; completely infatuated with you.

Something in your bones always told you that bully act was one big bluff. The first time Ao’nung hurt your feelings while you were dating, you denied his want to touch you for two whole days. When he expressed his disapproval of your decision, you made him get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, or he wouldn’t be able to touch you for two weeks. Two weeks without touching you for Ao’nung would feel like two years. It’s not a surprise that he’s incredibly clingy and gets upset when he can’t be near you 24/7, so you knew exactly what to hold against him when he made you mad. Jeez, what a fuckin baby. Talk about mommy issues.

“Baby, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it, will you forgive me?” He spoke softly and looked down at you with doe eyes, hoping to get off the hook and have this be over with. You stood in front of him and let out a dry laugh, arms crossed and expression unamused. Now he knew good and well you wouldn’t go that easy. Him being an entire foot taller than you didn’t phase you and he knew that. Some of the other men laughed when they would see a sight such as this. How is such a small, feeble woman controlling the olo’eyktan’s son like she’s his handler? What kind of spell did you put on him?

You stared up at Ao’nung through your long lashes, hard. Completely unwavered by his attempt at winning you over.

He sighed and reached for you, but before he could even brush a finger against your arm you swatted his hand away.

“You don’t get to touch.” You hissed, earning a whine and almost a frustrated stomp from the boy who seemed sooo tough.

God, you loved to see him squirm.

“Beg for it.” You demanded, your gaze mean and unfaltering. You didn’t feel bad, Ao’nung treated everyone else like this and you were simply giving him a taste of his own medicine. Besides, he liked it anyway. The boy has a thing for dominant women, who would have guessed.

He sighed, looking around at the other na’vi strolling on the beach and cursing under his breath. “Please, please forgive me.” He spoke, sounding so much smaller than before, both in voice and confidence.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Is this what you call begging, Ao’nung? That’s pathetic, you know better. Do not waste my time.”

“Ugh… right now? Like, here? People will see me.” He lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck and spoke in a hushed tone so nobody around would hear what he was saying. He had an image to uphold, the tough son of the olo’eyktan who didn’t take shit from anybody and gave shit to everybody. If anyone saw you controlling him like this, he feared it would damage his “reputation”. Or more so his ego.

You didn’t care though, this shit turned you on. And no matter how much he complained about it, you knew it turned him on too. He would never hide the way he looked at you as if he wanted to pounce, and his body gave him up as if you had offered it a cash reward.

“Fine, three weeks.” You responded plainly and shrugged after upping his timeout, turning on your heels to walk until he grabbed your wrist and sunk down to his knees before your footing could even change in the sand.

“Wait, wait! Please, my love… I’m sorry” He apologized, genuinely this time. You could hear the desperation in his voice and it made your core tingle with need. He held your smaller sized hand in both of his much larger ones and pressed his lips against the back of it, smothering it with kisses incessantly and apologizing between each one.

Ao’nung was aware of what he had just been told, no touching. But he couldn’t help himself, he needed his hands on you every minute of the day, whether it be him kissing the back of your hand as if you were royalty or you playing in his hair while he dozed away on your chest. At this point, you had long forgiven him but seeing this big so called ‘bully’ down on his knees in front of you to earn back something so simple as the right to touch you, made you hot. You raised an eyebrow and lifted your chin at him, taking your hand back and placing your hands on your hips in an attempt to look unimpressed.

His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head, wrapping his muscular arms around your torso he hugged you tightly from below.

“Please princess, I will do anything… whatever you want. I’ll be good from now on, I promise. Just take me off punishment.” He whined desperately, the side of his face pressed just below your navel, his grip on you strong.

Feeling your breath quietly catch in your throat as you watched him, you re-centered yourself to stop your legs from trembling. Many thoughts passed through your mind and you felt your skin heating up with his face pressed up against your body. You hummed, trying to decide on one of many options and gently brushing your fingers back between the lines of scalp next to his braids.

“Anything I want?” You cooed, chewing on your bottom lip slightly and earning an instant nod from the boy who was at your complete disposal.

“Ao’nung, up.” You beckoned and used your hand to raise his chin, seeing him look up at you in admiration from below as he quickly rose back to his feet at your direction. Taking his hand, you eyed him up and down deviously while he became more and more impatient with every second that passed. The shadow on his loincloth looked much different than it did when this conversation had started. The fabric was beginning to stretch, becoming taut and hinting at his arousal. He witnessed hunger and desire cloud your eyes, his tongue peeking out to lick at his bottom lip and his eyes watching you feverishly while he waited on your next move.

“Come.” You giggled, turning around and pulling him along like a lost puppy. A sigh of relief left his lips and the goofiest smile painted its way onto his face. You could damn near see the hearts flying in a halo around this boy’s head, he was so lovestruck. His ears perked up and his stride looked drunken as he allowed you to drag him back to your tent, his eyes falling to your backside and exposing how eager he was to fulfill whatever promise he had made to you.

a/n: Alright I’m back in my groove now yall! This was so fun to write and it came to me so easily. I’m a sucker for obedient men who do as they’re told, what can I say. 🫠 I’m not sure how far in detail i’ll go when it comes to smut with ao’nung or neteyam (aged up ofc). I do know that I’ll probably get requests for multiple parts so If I write more you might see an increase in strong language or suggestive/m🅰️ture themes but I’ll have to see about that. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please like and reblog if you can, it’s much appreciated. 💞

tag list ⬇️

@mcdonalds-playground

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being Stephen Strange's rival and a backfiring spell causes you to blurt out your thirsty thoughts about him.

“Hopefully this works,” You muttered to yourself, and started to make the hand motions for the spell. Speaking of, it was one that you had come up with yourself, a truth telling spell that was more brutal than the one already created. You thought that just not being able to lie wasn’t good enough - you wanted to hear whatever came to their mind when the question was asked. Stephen Strange had information that you wanted, and you were planning on getting it. You shot the spell out, pushing it hard, directing it right to the cornered Stephen. He was able to counter it with a reflecting spell that you didn’t know of, a strong one which sent the spell right back onto you. Stephen looked rather pleased with himself with that one, the stupid smug expression on his face. “Yeah, laugh it up, chuckles,” You said, your mouth moving at the same time as your brain. “That face might be sexy but it’s also really stupid.” “Did you just call my face sexy?” Stephen asked, lowering his hands in surprise. And you realized that yes - that is what came out of your mouth. “Shit,” You said. “You are not supposed to know what is going on inside of my head! This is a nightmare.” “Tell me what you really think,” Stephen said, crossing his arms in front of him, that smug look back on his face, the surprise having been wiped off when he realized how useful this could be. But what was on your mind was something that you certainly didn’t want to share. Regardless - it came out. “If we were to make out, I feel like all the hairspray and gel that you wear would put up a resistance and it just would ruin the moment,” You said, despite attempting to hold your lips together with your index finger and your thumb. The stunned look came back and then a short laugh from the sorcerer. “You know what - I actually really hate you sometimes but my god, is it ever fun to see you and wonder how ticklish your facial hair would be.” This was not good. Not good. NOT GOOD. You were backing up, and as you were, you kept saying, “Abort mission, abort mission, I’m kinda sad I didn’t hurt you because that means I can’t nurse your wounds and potentially see you shirtless - FUCK.” You turned around and ran, outwardly just spitting out curse words while Dr Strange was too bewildered to follow you.

Requested by: Anonymous

[bettydice]

One day this will be over, I swear it's not so far away

combined two of @loquaciousquark's prompts for Shivstarion into one Kiss At Dawn & I Almost Lost You Kiss

(background is uh that Astarion got hurled through time and met a younger version of Shiv in Skullport)

__________________________________

It takes Astarion almost a fortnight and a heroic rescue in a dodgy alley for her eyes to finally soften a little and say “alright, you snooty pitter, come with me”.

He is not sure what pitter means, though it is clearly meant as an insult. He still follows her across the grimy rooftops of Skullport.

They enter Shiv’s bedroom through a window, because apparently using doors “is for idiots who are about to get shanked any moment now”. Astarion has no desire to argue that point because he’s painfully aware that this Shiv is not (yet) his Shiv and he’s in real danger of getting shanked himself.

He dusts off his trousers - a hopeless endeavour, because Skullport turns all dust and dirt into grime and slime. Then he lifts his head with his Most Charming Smile As Voted By Shiv (the only person whose opinion he will even consider taking into consideration on that matter), only to choke on air, because in the meantime Shiv has taken off her pants and is in the process of unbuttoning her shirt.

“Uhm… hm?” he eloquently inquires.

She stops, fingers hovering over a button and looks at him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “What?”

“Obviously I admire your efficiency, a masterful divestment of clothes, never seen anything like it, marvelous-“

“Use real words, Pit Boy.” She puts her hands on her hips and cocks her head. “Lost your nerve?”

“Well, I’m just… This is not why I’m here, you know. We don’t have to… I’m not saying I wouldn’t, in general, I mean, I - we - have, many times in fact, just-“ She looks as though she’s losing her patience and he mentally slaps himself. “Why don’t we have a chat first, get to know each other better?”

Shiv stares at him for a moment, as though she’s trying hard to process his words, then she snorts and shakes her head. “Having a chat? I mean, I already knew you were a weirdo… wait, you’re not asking me to do some kind of role-play shit because I look like your dead lover or whatever, right? I’m not gonna pretend to be her, forget it!”

Now Astarion has to snort, in lieu of laughing hysterically. His first attempt at explaining to her that he’s actually from the future - a future where they are together and happy and married - didn’t go too well and he has no inclination to try that again. There’s probably no explaining this, it’s not like he understands what’s going on, except that it’s all stupid Gale’s fault.

“I’m not asking you to be anyone but yourself.” He can’t keep the fondness out of his voice. She hears it too and looks at him intently for a moment, considering.

“Listen, I brought you here because you’re cute and surprisingly useful in a fight even though you look like you’re gonna die friendless in an alley after knocking on some doors, so I thought we might have some fun together before you meet your end.”

“Darling, I’m never friendless.” He flashes his fangs at her.

“Right, almost forgot.” She grins and nods towards the bed. “So, are we gonna fuck or not? Because if you don’t want to, please piss off so I can sleep. The night’s almost over, so I’m tired.”

“How can you possibly tell what time of day it is in this everbleak den of nastiness?”

“I’m tired, so it must be morning.” She looks as him as though she’s about to call him ‘Pit Boy’ again.

Astarion would rather avoid that, so he pushes his shoulders back and walks up to her to do what he’s wanted to do since he first laid eyes on this Shiv after stupid Gale’s spell went awry and somehow sent him back in time. He gently takes her face in his hands and kisses her softly on the lips. Actually, what he wants even more is hug her, press his face against her neck, breathe her in. But he’d probably get shivved for that and not in the good way.

“What-“ Shiv draws back, terribly confused and he kisses her again, deeper this time. After a moment, she hesitantly kisses him back, as though she hasn’t done this before.

It’s a confusing feeling. It’s her, but she’s not his. He sees so many things in her that will still be the same later but so much is different, too. This Shiv has more edges, a razor-sharp stone that hasn’t been smoothed by the ocean yet. She is so angry and… so lonely.

He kisses her like he always kisses her. His lover, his best friend, his wife, his everything. He misses her so much. He misses looking at her and having the love he feels for her reflected in her eyes. He misses how she turns her head when she wants a kiss without needing to think about it. The ease of her affections. Now, having met her in the past, he realises how much she must love him. He needs to find his way back to her and then hug her and never let go. Well, first he’ll have to kill stupid Gale.

Many moments pass and they’re still kissing, on the bed now.

It still feels wrong, because it’s not her. But not to the point that it makes his skin crawl as it would if he was kissing someone else.

Suddenly she laughs against his lips and pulls back a little, breathless. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”

“Of course not, my dear! Nobody could ever compare!”

Shiv runs her thumb across his lip, slightly presses the tip of it against one of his fangs. “Is it because you’re a vampire? Or spawn, whatever. Do you all prefer snogging to fucking? Mixed with some sucking, usually, I guess. Maybe I should meet mo-“

“Nooooo, no, no, don’t bother. All the others are horrible, nasty creatures. Uncultured. Simple minded. Not worth even thinking about. No, you’ve already met the best of them, no need for you to ever kiss, meet or even look at another!”

She snickers, her eyes glinting dangerously. “I don’t know, I’m horrible, nasty, uncultured and simple minded. I think we’d get along!”

“No, you wouldn’t! And they’re… they’re all awful kissers! Don’t know what to do with their tongues nor with their teeth!”

She snickers again, then pulls him down by the collar of his shirt. He hadn’t even realised that he’d bolted upright in his indignation. “Well, then kiss me again and convince me you’re the best of them.”

He kisses her, makes sure to use both tongue and teeth just the right amount and even cards his hand through her hair the way he knows she loves.

Suddenly, Shiv forcefully pushes him off of her.

“What-“

When he notices that someone else is in the room, it’s already too late.

The attacker staggers back, a dagger from Shiv in their neck, a dagger from Astarion in their chest. They gurgle, a wretched sound, fall to their knees and then collapse, dead.

He turns to Shiv, almost afraid of what he’ll see.

She sits on the bed next to him, back pressed against the wall. Her shirt is red, soaked with her blood. The blood that’s flowing from the nasty cut across her throat.

He knows this wound, has traced its scar so many times.

He reaches out for her but she slaps his hand away. Then she shoves one hand under her pillow, pulls out a dagger and points it at him. She can barely control the shaking of her hand.

“Wh…” She tries to talk, presses a hand against the wound, as though it could stop the bleeding, as though it could stop the pain. “Wh… who sent you?”

He raises his hands and looks at her with as much sincerity as he can. “I’m not working with anyone. I don’t have anything to do with this, I swear.”

“Y-… not quick en-… to kill me.” She breathes in sharply through her nose, her hand now visibly shaking.

“Right you are, darling. But you really shouldn’t be talking right now. Please tell me you have some health potions stashed here somewhere.”

She stares at him, takes another painful breath. Then she drops her dagger, closes her eyes and leans her head against the wall. “Table.”

Astarion gets up and hurries over to the only table in the room, stepping over the dead attacker in the process. There’s a bunch of vials and jars on the table. Nothing that looks like a health potion, so he starts opening them one by one.

“R… red jar. Moss. Wrapped.”

Indeed, he finds some Blood Moss wrapped in a cotton cloth. The red jar holds some kind of salve that smells good, at least. He takes both back to the bed, sits next to her and then tries his best to take care of the wound.

As he rips the cotton, so he can use it as a bandage, he can see that the bleeding actually seems to have stopped and the wound slowly starts scabbing over. Whatever is in that salve, it’s working.

He always knew that it must have been a gruesome injury, with no cleric around to heal it. To see it happen…

He gently puts a bit of the Blood Moss on the wound and then wraps a cotton strip around her neck. It looks crude, but he already knows that she’ll survive this. She’ll be fine. Shiv will be fine.

He realises that his hands are shaking too and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to calm himself.

She’ll be fine.

He helps her lie down, puts her head on his lap, because the pillow is soaked with blood.

“Don’t worry, darling. You’ll be fine. I’ll watch over you, so just close your eyes and rest.” He smiles down at her and strokes her cheek. His hands are red with her blood, the scent enticing and absolutely terrifying.

He wipes away a tear that has sneaked out of the corner of her eye.

“You can drink my blood, if you want.” Her voice is still hoarse, but it doesn’t sound like every word is tearing apart her throat anymore.

Astarion almost laughs, because his Shiv loves to offer him a ‘treato’ in the worst possible circumstances, but there’s no mirth in her eyes this time.

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart, you barely have any blood left.”

“Then I’d die…” She slowly opens her eyes, which allows more tears to escape. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Then do something else.”

“I don’t have anything else.”

Astarion swallows, his throat tight. He doesn’t know what to say. He has never seen her like this, so utterly defeated. He doesn’t know this Shiv, knows so little about her past, because she barely remembers it. He starts stroking her hair, and she visibly relaxes, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. Because she loves having her hair stroked. Because no matter the place or time, she’s his…

“Shiver.”

She meets his gaze and he leans down and softly kisses her forehead.

“You’ll always have yourself. Which is the best thing one could ever have, and I’d know, because I have it. You can do anything and go anywhere you want, my love. And eventually, you’ll have me, you’ll only have to wait a little.”

She stares at him, swallows painfully. He can’t tell if she believes him.

“You never told me how you know my name.”

He smiles at that, then sighs dramatically. “I did tell you, but you refused to believe me and told me to fuck off. Had your dagger primed to stab me and everything.”

“Yeah… ‘scus you’re always talking rubbish that makes no sense.”

Astarion bends down again and kisses her cheek, fingers still stroking her hair.

“That person… your dead lover… you really love her, don’t you?”

He smiles, lets all the love he feels for her show in his eyes. “Yes. As much as anyone can love someone in this world.”

“You must miss her. So much.” The tears are falling steadily now, drawing winding paths in the blood on her cheeks.

“You should rest now. Sleep a little. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Later, once she can sit up again and they’ve cleaned up as much as possible (the body gets thrown out the window, apparently that’s ‘the system’ here), he kisses her again.

It still doesn’t feel quite right, but he wants her to know that she is loved, that she is not alone. Just like he found her here, he’ll return to her and she’ll find him and they’ll kill stupid Gale and she’ll be loved as much as anyone can be in this world.

[depressopax]

hey! Are you good? Hope so!

So I don’t really know how this requests work, and I’ve read the rules you wrote so I’m so sorry if I do something wrong, if you can of course, could you do some fluff/comfort with Sergio Marquina from La casa de papel? Something like she risks herself for him because of a mistake that the guys did from inside the heist, and as they were the only ones out there and he was working with something else, she goes and solves the problem herself, but she puts herself in risk and Sergio is super worried but feeling loved and wanted at the same time.

Even if you can’t do it thank you for your time and attention anyway, have a good day!

HIII! Thank you for the request!  Sorry it took a while, but here it is!  I changed some things up, but tried keeping to the suggested plot.  I hope you like it and thanks for your patience!  Have a good day! <3

I did it for love

Fandom - La casa de papel

The Professor/Sergio Marquina x gn!reader

Pairing: The Professor x gender neutral reader Genre: Hurt/comfort Warning(s): Spoilers for LCDP! Injury, guns, Berlin being a jerk lol, cuss words and insults. Reader is referred to as "Athens" and is gender-neutral, goes by they/them! Words: 1.5K Summary: After The Professor dissapears, Reader is dissapointed and tries dealing with the hostages alone. English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 || AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ||

“What happens if the plan goes south?” The others grunted at the question.

“Athens… Por favor! Have some faith in us.” Berlin chanted with a smug grin. 

How you wish you could erase it from his face. Instead, you turned to look at the Professor. He adjusted his glasses. 

“If it would go south… I’ll be there to guide you all. Remember, I’ll be one call away. And you have Berlin to handle whatever dangers you might face.”

I’ll be there. - One call away.

Bullshit.

24 hours have almost gone by without a sign of life from the Professor. Shit is escalating. With arguments, disagreements, Berlin’s cruelness and Tokyo’s pathetic attempts to overpower him, together with Denver and Rio, the crew is totally fucked. 

You don’t know what’s worse - the fact that the plan is falling apart, the Professor's betrayal - or the fact that you, despite all- feels worried for him. You want to be angry, you should be angry. Still… The worry grows. Did he get arrested? Is he hurt? Why the hell isn’t he calling?! With determined steps, you walk into the office that is used to communicate with the Professor. Berlin is the only one allowed to keep in touch with him. But the plan is going south. Berlin has lost his mind, so has Tokyo. Who gives a damn if you break one rule? So you call him on the red phone. You wait, and wait, and wait… You repeat the same procedure three times before slamming the plastic phone back in its place. 

When leaving the room, Berlin stands outside the door. He’s leaning against the wall and looks smug.

“Athens. Are you sneaking around?” 

But you don’t have the energy to reply. As you walk off, he grabs your arm. 

“Let go!” you hiss.

“You tried calling him, didn’t ya?” 

“So what? At least I’m not sleeping with a hostage! I haven’t killed anyone, fuck! I haven’t raised my gun once. I have followed you, and the Professor since the start. But you? You and the others?” You laugh and shake your head. “No. You just had to ruin it. And now? The Professor is gone.” 

Berlin's grip around your arm tightens and his face twists into a look of pure madness. 

“I’m in charge here, Athens. Know your damn place.” he hisses right back at you and for the first time you feel threatened by him. 

Suddenly… Gunshots. And the scream of frightened hostages.

Berlin lets go of you and for the anger towards each other fades. Disagreement asides, you have a job to do. Together, you grab the guns and run. 

Is this the time when I’ll have to use the gun? You think and hold it out like a shield  as you run straight into the room where the hostages are kept. 

Arturito you idiot.

A confused and angry Denver's stands with his arms in the air and a gun to his head. Without thinking twice you sneak down the stairs. You must look wild, with fury in your eyes and a raised gun. Of course no hostage dares to warn Arturo about your presence.

“Drop the gun, Arturito.” He flinches when realizing someone’s behind him. His few seconds of fright is all it takes to regain control of the situation. 

“You ok, Denver?” 

“Yea, thank you, Athens. Let’s deal with this son of a bitch.” you both stare at Arturo. 

How he got the gun, you don’t know. But this could've ended poorly. Really poorly. Just as the situation is under control, it happens. “Athens!” Denver yells and raises his gun. You turn around, and suddenly something slaps into the side of your head.

A sharp pain courses through your body and you fall. 

“Athens? A word, please.” The professor had said to you, after class. The others left and you stayed. 

“Yea? What’s up?” 

You both sat down and the bearded man looked at you. 

“You’re worried. About the plan”

“Well… Yes, I am.” you had admitted. “No offense, Professor, but… What if something happens? And what if you don’t answer the phone when we need you, for some reason?”

“If that happens, Berlin will take over for me. Do you trust me, Athens?” A nod in reply. “My top priority is safety for you and the others. I promise to get all of you out. Okay?”

“Okay.” 

He smiled reassuringly at you and from nowhere… A warm feeling spread through your body. You’d never had him smile at you before. That day, you’d been at the Toledo House for two months. Professor saved your life and ever since he took you under his wings, you felt something towards him. Something besides friendship. 

“Do you trust me?” you had asked. He seemed startled and adjusted his glasses whilst nodding.“Of course I do, Athens.”

“You’re a good person, Professor.”

He blushed up.

“Uhm, thank you.” 

“I mean it.” 

During those two months, the two of you had built a connection. Both could feel it, but denied it. Mainly because of the “No relationships” rule. But you couldn’t help it. You wanted him. When you moved closer to him, he didn’t say anything. But when you leaned forward…

“Athens.” His voice was firm. 

“Sorry.”

“You know the rules.” He stood up and tried meeting your eyes, but eye contact was the last thing you wanted. You looked away in shame. 

“Sorry.”

He sighed and walked closer again.

“It’s ok. But I don’t feel the same. I’m sorry.” he turned to leave the classroom, but then added. “You’re a good person, Athens. And I trust you. Don’t you forget that.” 

He hurries back to the hideout. That was a close shot. Sergio had gone back to the Toledo House to plant some false evidence for the dear police force. But he didn’t expect that he’d almost get caught. When he enters the room, the phone is ringing. He’s ashamed. It’s been 24 hours. 

He, the mastermind of the heist, left his team to fight alone. He hates himself for it.

My top priority is safety for you and the others. I promise to get all of you out. Okay?

That’s what he once told Athens. They probably hate him now, all of them… But the thought of you hating him, that hurts. He picks up the phone.

“Berlin.” “Where the hell have you been?” his half-brother hisses on the phone.

“I had to fix some things. Sorry.”

Berlin sighs.

“Alright. Well, shit is going down here. The hostages tried escaping. They wounded Athens.” 

Sergio almost drops the phone. Athens. Athens. 

“Are they ok?!” 

“Will be. They’re unconscious right now.” 

Berlin continues updating him about the situation at the Royal Mint, but the Professor, the mastermind behind the heist, and the calm man with a plan for everything - isn’t listening. He’s thinking of you. Your smile, laughter, and the confession… And now, you’re wounded, all because of him. He broke his first rule, because at this very moment he realizes he indeed likes you.

More than a friend. 

After giving Berlin and the others instructions on how to handle the hostages, he scrolls through the security cameras, to keep the team updated in case he sees something shady. But his eyes remain on the camera showing the room you’re in. He just wants to see you wake up and make sure you’re ok. And finally, you blink your eyes open. At first, you feel a bit disoriented. Then the memories come back. The hostages. As you sit up, the room spins and you have to lay down again with a grunt. You hold yourself up on your elbows and take deep breaths. The back of your head feels sore. 

Sergio almost throws himself over the red phone as he sees you’re awake. When the phone rings, you pick up.

“Professor?” “Athens…” He whispers, letting out a loud sigh in relief. Guilt washes over him and he rubs his forehead. “I’m so sorry”

“It wasn’t your fault. I was acting reckless.” “I promised I’d be there, Athens. And I wasn't…”

“Alright then… We’re both idiots.” 

He laughs at this, and without realizing it, he’s crying, too.

“But I’m the biggest idiot.” “Can’t argue with that, Prof.”

“I’ll make it up to you, somehow. I promise.”

“Are you ok, Prof?” He can hear the worry in your voice and it both flusters him and makes the guilt worse. You just got injured by a damn hostage, but worried for him?

“I’m just glad to hear your voice.”

The silence is comfortable.

“I should go back and help the others…”

“Athens. No. You need to rest.” 

“But I-” but when you sit up, everything spins again. “...Ok.” “I wish I was there right now. To protect you.” Sergio realizes what he just confessed too, and how it might come across. But he doesn’t care. He means it. 

“I’ll hold you to your words.” 

With that, Sergio finds the strength and motivation needed to be a good leader again. He’ll get you out of the Royal Mint. You and the others. And after he’s done that - He will never let you go.

Thanks for reading! If you've made it this far - Please check out my very first chapter fanfiction! I'll link it down below. It would mean a lot to me, if not to read but to like or share! Thank you. <3 Take care!!

[walker-extended-universe]

Bodyswap, Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Relationship(s): Geri Broussard/Cordell Walker, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

Tags/Warnings: Bodyswap, Magic, Confusion, Paranoia, Canon-Typical Violence

Summary: Sam gets settled into his "new life" while Dean and Cas search for answers.

Written for @whumptober Alt prompt 1: Bodyswap

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

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

Dean grunted as he pulled Sam- or at least Sam’s body- down to the dungeon of the Bunker. “You gotta cut down on the burgers, Sammy,” he muttered as he strapped his brother down to the chair in the middle of the devil’s trap.

He sighed and turned to Castiel. “Can you figure out what’s going on here? He was fine when we got in last night.”

Cas nodded and walked over to Sam, pressing his fingers to Sam’s forehead. After a few seconds, he frowned. “I…. Sam doesn’t appear to be in this body.”

“What? So like he’s soulless?”

“No, there’s a soul in there…. It’s just not Sam.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you have to do that soul-fisting thing to know that?”

Castiel glowered at him. “I’m well aware of the limitations of my power. I could do that to learn whose soul this is, but I can tell enough to know that it isn’t Sam’s. The more pressing question is how his soul was transferred, and to where? Did anything strange happen on your most recent hunt? There was witch activity, if I remember correctly.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, it was a witch. A pretty strong one too, one of Rowena’s old rivals. We took her down, but she did try to do some kind of spell before we killed her. Maybe that was it?” It would make some kind of sense; he remembered that kid that switched bodies with Sam several years ago. It was possible, but it took an insane level of spellwork. Was that something she could’ve done on the fly?

“That is possible,” Castiel agreed. “I wager that since it was cast in the heat of battle, the spell may not have had the desired effect, which would explain why it didn’t work until after you two had gone to bed….”

“But that doesn’t tell us where Sam is or who replaced him.”

“No.” Castiel sighed. “I could ‘soul fist’ him, as you so elegantly put it, but I hesitate to harm Sam’s body. I suggest we wait until this stranger wakes up again and try to interrogate them. Based on what I witnessed, they seem as confused as we are. I doubt they’re malevolent. In the meantime, I suggest we figure out what spell the witch may have used or find a way to reverse what happened. The sooner we can get everyone back into their appropriate body, the better.”

Dean couldn’t agree more. “Alright. Sam grabbed some of the old hag’s books, so we can start there. Maybe we could call Rowena, just in case. She might know something about soul transfer shit.”

“I agree. I will keep a watch over our new friend while you investigate, just in case he wakes up soon or he’s not as friendly as I hope.”

Dean hated being relegated to research, but nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Shout if anything happens.”

“I will,” Castiel promised.

—-----------------

Sam had worked side-by-side with law enforcement on several occasions over the years. He’d used fake badges to get access to case files, intimidated his way into meetings with coroners, and occasionally given a lucky officer insight into what real monsters looked like.

Despite his many years of varied experience, Sam felt woefully unprepared for a day pretending to be a Texas Ranger.

Could he have called and taken a day off? Sure. But he was curious to know more about what he’d gotten dropped into so attempting to leave the ranch he woke up on was step number one. Since he was, in fact, able to drive away and arrive at a completely new location (even if he was late because he got lost), that told him it was unlikely this was some kind of simulation or heavily guarded facility. Not even the British men of letters could make a city appear out of thin air like this.

However, there was still a chance he was stuck in some sort of dream state or that he was being closely watched for…something. Whatever the reasoning was, he needed to play along and try not to break the rules, whatever those rules may be.

It never occurred to him that there might not be a game at hand at all, that he was rather just unlucky after a run in with a witch, but when were things ever that simple for him?

Unfortunately, Sam couldn’t seem to get a grip on what, exactly, he was supposed to be doing or how he was supposed to act. Getting into his computer had been easy enough as there was a well-hidden note with his password information. There were no active cases as far as he could tell and he wasn’t meant to go on patrol today. However, there were several reminders about paperwork that was due for something to do with a jackal and he didn’t even know where to start with that.

Apparently, the character he was supposed to be playing was really bad at the admin side of his job because he couldn’t even find any blank paperwork around his desk and he didn’t want to arouse suspicion by trying to ask someone. He spent a good half-hour sorting through his emails to at least find a template to go off of, which was surprisingly fruitful. Once the templates were printed out, he sat back at his desk and grabbed a pen to get to work.

Only… he had no clue what to write. He hadn’t worked this case, and searching through his computer only brought up documents from a different case that had closed five years ago. Was that case even related to what he was supposed to do now? He had no idea. And he definitely couldn’t ask someone about it. This stuff was usually pretty classified and given the amount of cluttered decorations on his desk, he’d been at this job for a while. Letting his coworkers know he’d suddenly forgotten everything would only arouse suspicion.

Maybe he should’ve taken the day off after all. He could’ve faked an illness and spent the day looking for hex bags. Or maybe he could’ve taken a bigger risk and attacked his “family” to try to get information out of them. Either of those would’ve been more productive.

“Walker? You feeling okay?”

Sam startled, dropping his pen and looked up to see a man looming over his desk. Probably the “James” that had been bugging him with emails. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just- paperwork, you know?” He tried to fake a smile. 

James nodded slowly. “Right…. Look, I understand the Jackal case was rough on you. It was hard on all of us. I know taking a leave of absence helped but…. Maybe you aren’t ready to get back into things.”

“I’m fine, sir,” Sam insisted. “I’m just trying to get my head clear on the details.”

“I’m sure.” James didn’t seem convinced. “Look, why don’t you just go home early today and tomorrow we’ll talk more. I’m going to insist you take that therapy option.”

“I don’t need-”

“This isn’t negotiable, Walker. I need you sharp; you’re the best man in my office and you’ve dealt with worse before. Just take some time off, enjoy an afternoon with your family, and we’ll talk tomorrow. Okay?”

Sam wanted to argue more, but decided to take the out in front of him. Fighting this would probably only cause problems for him later. Besides, that was more investigating time for him. “Okay, sir. I’ll…see you tomorrow.”

“Good man.” James clapped his shoulder as he walked past his desk and Sam waited until he was out of sight before packing up and leaving.

He had work to do.

—--------------

Geri had gotten the call from Cassie that something was off with Cordell at work and decided to take her afternoon off as well to help deal with it. She knew The Jackal case had been difficult for him (even if part of that suffering was self-inflicted) and she hated that it was still bothering him like this. She wished he would just open up to him about his problems, but she also knew that would be a long, hard battle.

Still, she had to try. What kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn’t? So, she drove to his house and, seeing she was there before him, decided to make them some lunch. Hard conversations usually went better with food.

By the time Cordell got home, she had freshly toasted sandwiches put on plates and ready to eat. “Hey!” she greeted, smiling brightly as he entered the door.

He looked at her wide-eyed. “Hey…. What are you doing here?” he asked carefully.

“I heard you had a rough day at work so I figured you could use a little pick-me-up. And let you know if you wanted to talk about anything, I’m here.”

He nodded slowly. “Right…. You didn’t have to do that.”

She shrugged. “I wanted to. Now, eat, before your mother decides to butt in.”

That got a small laugh out of him and Geri counted that as a win.

She waited until Cordell was well into eating his sandwich before she tried pushing the subject. “So, about what happened at work…. Are you feeling okay?”

Cordell slowed his chewing and stared at her, searching her face for…something.

Once he was done, he set down the other half of his sandwich and folded his hands in front of his chin. “Do you ever feel like…you woke up one day and now you’re living someone else’s life?”

Geri’s heart ached for him. She knew his job had caused him and his family grief over the years, but he’d always been determined for the cause. Maybe all the strain and stress was starting to wear on him and the Jackal was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. Or, maybe with Stella and August moving on in their lives, he was starting to look at his own future and past regrets. 

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “I remember when I took over the Side Step after Frank died…. It was like I was just playing a simulation game, just going through the motions until I reached some arbitrary goal.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “You know I’m always here for you, right? No matter what you decide you want for the future?”

Cordell’s eyes never left hers. “What if I’m not the person you think I am?”

“Then I’d love to get to know you better.”

“What if I told you something that didn’t make any sense?”

“Then I’d help you figure it out until I did.”

“Even if that meant losing me forever?”

“If that’s what’s best for you….” It would hurt, but she would do it. “What’s with the existential questions?”

He looked back down at his plate. “Nothing. Just- thinking.”

She nodded. “I understand. But I’m still here, Cordi. No matter what.”

That earned her a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”