#no one contact me for 7-10 business days

[kenneth-black]

Still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this photo is a screengrab from the episode and not an edit 🫠🫠🫠 Like Buck is canonically bi?? I’m not dreaming am I??

[deansbbyx]

I DONT THINK ANYONE HAS A FUCKING CLUE HOW MUCH THIS IS CARINACODED (me) LIKE I DREAM THAT THIS MAN ONE DAY DOES AUDIO PORN! I am manifesting so hard. I talk abt it all the time. Also if anyone hasn’t tried audio porn pls it’s the best thing. The Quinn app a++ in my book. ANYWAYS!! This was everything I could ever want in a fic. I have a a lot of fics during my time in fandoms and I wanna say this is top 3 in the one shot category. Like wow! WOW!

The Fan | Jensen x Reader | Oneshot

Summary: Y/N has an unhealthy obsession with a man with a filthy mouth and an oral fixation he’s hell bent on ruining her life with. 

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Tags: audio porn, porn AU, dirty talking, daddy kink, praise kink, slight degradation, oral fixation, oral sex galore, use of sex toy, masturbation, public masturbation, Jensen has a filthy filthy mouth in this one, it might make you feral be warned…

WC: ± 4K

A/Ns: I shouldn’t be trusted to write porn when I’m feeling feral because this is absolute filth and I just wanna thank Laura for commissioning it and sending me further down my crazed rabbit hole. <3

Want your own commission? Find out more here!

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

“Oh fuck, baby girl, you take Daddy’s cock so fucking well in that tight little cunt, don’t you?” he coos as your whole body starts to break out into a light sweat. “Best damn pussy I’ve ever fucking had, sweetheart.” 

You whine, your back arching off the bed, your head fuzzy with your impending orgasm as your eyes flutter closed and you try to stave it off just a little while longer. 

“Look at you, so fucking perfect, you were made for me, made for my cock inside you. Daddy’s perfect little slut,” he growls, gasping for breath at the end of his sentence, moaning deep from his chest. “Tell me what you are, I wanna hear you say it.” 

“I’m your perfect little whore, Daddy,” you whine out, your fingers working your clit to the very edge of sweet release.

“That’s fucking right you are, baby, feel so fucking good on my cock, fuck, making Daddy wanna fucking cum. Do you want that? Hm? Do you want Daddy’s cum deep in that pussy? Maybe I should put your panties back on you and send you out. Let you walk around the store with my cum dripping down your thighs. Oh you like the fucking sound of that, don’t you?” he chuckles darkly, and you gasp for air, the feeling of the cock pistoning in and out of you almost too much to bear anymore. 

“You’re not going to cum again are you?” he asks. “You know how I feel about you cumming when my mouth isn’t down there to taste it. Do you need my tongue in that cunt again, baby girl? Or are you still craving Daddy’s cock? Look at you, so fucking desperate you don’t even know what you want anymore, you just want to be used, don’t you? You just want Daddy to use that fucking cunt over and over until I’m through with it. I’ve fucking got you, baby girl, you’re mine and everyone fucking knows it. I’ve marked you up good, you wanna see your skin, fucking covered in my claim.” 

You can’t take anymore, and you cum hard, screaming out in pure ecstasy as your climax washes over every inch of you, and you’re left gasping for air, squirming on the edge of over-stimulation as the cock continues to piston in and out of you at the steady pace you’d set it at. 

Your eyes flutter open and you’re brought back to the room, your earbud falling out, letting the natural ambience of your bedroom fill your eyes, the very faint sound of the actor’s voice still bleeding through the forgotten earpiece. Your body is still trembling, goosebumps erupting over every inch of you as you finally reach for the dial beside you and slow the machine down until it’s come to a stop, and you carefully remove the toy from inside you and whimper at the loss of contact, even if you are thoroughly done. You reach for your phone to pause the audio, realising there’s still ten minutes left. You never can make it to the end of one of his audios. That man is far too good at what he does, and it’s a crying shame he doesn’t do videos, though you realise that audio gets you off far better than visual does nowadays. You don’t even think you’d care what the guy looks like, if he can make you cum that hard and that many times with just his words, he could look however he wants and you’d still fuck him. 

Somehow, the guy seems to be all your biggest fantasies wrapped up in one dirty mouthed human, and you’re actually starting to worry about your real dating life, given you’re never going to find a guy that will ever come close to your favourite audio actor, you’re sure of it. Still, it doesn’t stop you from trying, even if your nights do end like tonight; alone and getting yourself off with your best investments yet; your fuck machine and Patreon subscription to ‘Dean Winchester’.  You hadn’t even needed a machine before Dean, and you actually had more real life sex with real life men, but over time you ended up settling for mediocre one night stands less and less, rathering going home to Dean, instead. You know your obsession is borderline unhealthy at this stage, but if the guy would stop putting out the best audios you’ve ever heard, then maybe you’d stand a chance. 

*

Work is so mind-numbingly boring, you find yourself watching the clock on the wall and praying that the last twenty minutes would hurry up, so you can get out of the office for the weekend. With the weekend upcoming, you don’t have time to start a new project, but you finished your last one two hours ago, and have been desperately trying to seem busy for your boss’s sake since then. You sigh and twist yourself left to right in your office chair, and practically leap at your phone the second it goes off next to you. Finally, something to do. 

You’re quick to glance around you when you realise that the notification is from Patreon, and you open it cautiously to see Dean has posted a new audio. It’s rare for him to post something mid afternoon on a Friday, and you read the title and the audio information, eager to find out what your Friday night is going to entail. 

Daddy can’t get enough of eating that sweet pussy (with toys)

Contains: Excessive oral sex, daddy kink, use of toys, praise, degradation, slight humiliation, mocking for multiple orgasms, soft dom, aftercare 

You look around the office, feeling your pussy getting uncomfortably wet already, and rub your thighs together, reaching into your purse and grabbing your headphones, before quickly making your way towards the bathroom. You would normally at least try to wait the extra hour, and for  the comfort of your own home, but this one sounds too good to wait. You just want a little glimpse; at least that’s what you tell yourself as you lock yourself into a bathroom stall and eagerly put an earbud in, making sure your phone is definitely connected to it before you turn the volume up a little. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Dean hums through the headphone, and instantly the wetness doubles.

You shift uncomfortably in your heels, and take a seat on the closed toilet lid, hitching your dress up enough to get to your soaked panties. You can just have a little play, it’s not like you’re busy, and no one will know what you’re doing in here. 

“Have you missed me? Aw, I can tell,” he coos, “have you been waiting for me all day? I’ve had a long week, and I was thinking I could use some stress relief,” he explains. “I’ve been thinking about you since I left you naked in bed this morning, been thinking about that sweet little pussy, about how good you taste. My cock has been hard all fucking day just thinking about tasting you when I got home.” 

You try your best not to moan out loud, your fingers now pulling the ruined material of your panties to one side as you take a shuddered breath in and start to tease your swollen clit. 

“You don’t mind if I help myself, do you?” he asks, and then a low hum rumbles through him. “Fuck, let me take those panties off, wanna see that dripping little pussy properly. It’s gonna taste so fucking good, you always taste so fucking good, you’ve got Daddy addicted, d’y’know that?” 

You rush to remove your panties over your heels, wanting to keep up with the fantasy now playing in your mind’s eye, and you quickly stuff them into your blazer pocket. 

“Don’t worry about making dinner, I’ve got enough to feast on right here,” he chuckles lowly, and then the sound of his lips smacking over something fills the quiet, and he moans under his breath. “Tastes fucking good, baby girl,” he praises. “That pussy was made to be eaten, and look at it, practically dripping for me, such a naughty little slut, hm? You want a finger inside you?” 

Instantly you slide one finger inside your warm, wet cunt, and your eyes roll as you throw your head back. 

“So fucking tight, baby girl, you like having something inside you when I eat that pussy, don’t you?” he laughs, “then why don’t you use the dildo I got you? It’s right here, I’ve got it, let me see if I can make it fit.” The sound of vibrations accompany Dean’s hums of approval, and you wish with everything in you that you were home right now, where you could reach for your own vibrator and slide it inside you like Dean’s doing in your fantasy right now. “Fuck, baby girl, you take it so well, does that feel good? It’ll feel better when my tongue is back on that clit.” 

“Jesus,” you whisper under your breath, pushing a second finger inside you in a desperate attempt to mimic the toy you’re imagining. 

“Don’t worry about me, baby, I’ve had a cockring wrapped around my cock all day, I’m gonna be fucking you for hours yet. Now you just lie back and let me take care of that sweet little cunt.”

The bathroom door opens outside of the stall, and you jump to remove your fingers, even though whoever has entered won’t see what you’re doing, you still don’t want to get caught out somehow.  The obscene noises of Dean ‘eating you out’ are still playing into your ear, and you rush to pause the audio in an attempt to calm yourself down a little, hearing the clicking of heels on tile as someone enters the stall next to you.

“Y/N?” you hear Amber call out. 

“Yeah?” you call back, your voice shaky and not trustworthy, right now.

“You coming to the bar with us?” Amber asks. 

You stand up and flush the toilet to complete your facade, heading out of the stall and quickly beginning to wash your own juices off of your fingers before Amber somehow notices. 

“Not tonight,” you insist, your mind very much on the remaining twenty three minutes of Dean’s new audio, and the date with your machine you’ve found yourself with suddenly. 

“C’mon, you’ve not been out in forever, plus, Sascha insists that this new bar has the hottest guys,” Amber explains as she also exits her stall and stands at the sink beside you, washing her own hands. 

“I gave up on men a long time ago,” you remind Amber with a chuckle. 

“Oh c’mon, I’m all for silicone friends, but you’ve gotta get a real dick at least once in a while, and girl for you, it’s been a while.” You laugh at her bluntness and shake your head. “You’re coming, even if I have to pay for your drinks all night,” Amber insists. 

You sigh and roll your eyes, before nodding reluctantly, guessing one drink won’t hurt if it gets Amber off your back. 

“Great,” Amber beams, reaching forward to undo the top button of your dress so your cleavage is far more on show than it was before. “There, let’s go.”

*

One drink has somehow turned into three, because every time you say you might leave, Amber is quick to buy you another cocktail, and you feel bad wasting her money by not drinking it first. You’re hyper aware of the fact your panties are still stuffed into your blazer pocket, and your pussy is completely bare and exposed under your dress, and the only thing you can fully focus on is the remainder of Dean’s audio you want to listen to. You really do have a problem, apparently. 

By the fourth drink, you offer to pay, feeling bad that Amber is footing your bill all night, and you guess you owe her one drink before you finally go home to your machine. You stand at the bar and shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you wait to be served, your mind running wild with all the ways Dean is going to fuck you tonight, and when the barman finally stands in front of you, you realise you’ve forgotten what Amber wanted. You guess your way through a list of a few different cocktails, figuring one of the girls will drink them even if Amber doesn’t, and as the barman moves away to make your long order, you hear a scoff beside you. 

You turn your head to look at the man, and are kind of taken for a moment because he’s pretty attractive. Sascha was right, the men at this place really are better looking than the rest of the bars around town. Maybe they have some weird lighting, or something. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs easily, and his voice shoots straight to your core. Jesus, has it really been that long since a hot guy has talked directly to you? “It’s just I’ve been stood here for over five minutes, and that bar man is only serving the hot girls,” he explains. 

Your brain takes a second to process what he’s saying, and then you scoff and shake your head. 

“Clearly not, he just served me,” you counter. 

“I stand by what I said,” the stranger insists, after his green eyes have raked up and down your body a couple of times. Is this guy actually flirting with you? You find yourself staring for a moment. There’s something very familiar about him, but you’re fairly sure you’d remember ever meeting a guy this attractive. 

“Do I know you?” you ask him, frowning. 

His green eyes light up and he laughs softly, shaking his head. 

“Urm… don’t think so,” he finally offers, shaking his head. But his hesitance only confuses you more. 

“Are you sure? I swear I know you somehow,” you insist. 

The guy begins to blush, and he clears his throat before looking around himself. 

“Well, what if I said my name is… Dean,” he slowly offers. 

Your eyes widen immediately, and you’re not sure if you want the ground to swallow you whole or if you want to kiss the man. His voice that’s what you know, that’s what’s so familiar, and that’s why you’re having this kind of reaction to just talking to some guy. So you’re not that desperate, after all… or maybe you are, depending how you look at it. You would’ve never placed him as Dean Winchester, no matter how intimately you know his voice, because you never would’ve actually expected him to be more attractive than the picture you’d painted in your head. And you never would’ve expected to bump into him at a bar in town of all places. 

But then the realisation hits you fully. If this guy is Dean Winchester then he knows that you listen to his stuff, and he knows that you listen enough to recoginise him. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp, your cheeks burning. “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed, I’m so sorry,” you fumble to apologise, but Dean just laughs and shakes his head. 

“Why are you sorry? I love meeting fans.” 

The word fan only makes your skin crawl more, he’s going to think you’re some psycho, some desperate woman that needs audio porn to get her kicks. 

“Oh god,” you groan, now feeling your skin crawling in shame. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, really,” he reassures you, reaching out to grab your shoulder. “Honestly, I’m flattered a girl like you listens to me.” 

“Oh sure,” you scoff, not believing him for one second. You want to tell him you don’t really listen to his stuff that much, but then you realise that might be insulting, and you don’t want to tell him you’re as big a fan as you are, or you’ll just look even more pathetic to him. “Listen, I’ll leave you alone,” you conclude. 

“Oh,” he replies simply, before licking his lips and nodding his head. “Yeah, sure, if that’s what you want.” 

You can’t help but feel like you’ve insulted him somehow, and you swallow hard, rushing to explain. “I don’t wanna seem like some creepy fan,” you excuse. 

“Sweetheart, I’m the one that hit on you,” he laughs. 

Your eyes only widen further, “you were hitting on me?” 

“Yeah, well… I thought I was… I did call you hot, didn’t I?” 

“I guess,” you agree, now feeling embarrassed for a whole new reason. The guy that has given you more orgasms than all the other men in your sexual history put together has hit on you. “I’m sorry, I just always assumed that a guy like you would be married, or at least dating someone.” 

“Nah, my work is just as much for my benefit as it is yours, trust me,” he laughs softly. “So, can I at least buy you a drink, even if it’s just to thank you for liking my work?” 

*

“I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this,” you confess, already drunkenly laughing behind your hand as you look over at him. 

Dean – or Jensen, you’ve now been told his real name is – seems to wait patiently for your confession, and in the two or so hours you’ve been sitting together drinking and getting to know each other, you somehow feel like you’ve known him for years. Maybe that’s because of the porn, but either way, you’re actually about to say this out loud. 

“The audio that you released today?” you prompt, and a smirk grows over Jensen’s plump lips.

“Yeah…” he prompts. 

“Well, I didn’t get to finish it, but let’s just say I started it in work… in a bathroom stall… and I’m still a mess. I was dying to get home to finish it.” Your confession doesn’t leave you as embarrassed as you thought it would, not when Jensen only smirks harder, and then bites his bottom lip as his green eyes look around the bar. 

“Well… why don’t I just… show you what the rest was like?” he asks, blinking at you. 

“What?” you ask, feeling yourself beginning to sober up at just the very thought of what Jensen’s implying. 

“What if we… y’know, re-enacted it?” 

*

“So how far did you get?” Jensen asks, breathing against your neck.

You crane it, pushing your head back further into your pillow as you moan softly, dragging your nails through the soft hair on the nape of his neck. 

“Not very, you’d just pulled out a vibrator,” you explain breathlessly, your heart thudding in your chest. If this man is this good at kissing, you’re not sure you’ll survive the rest of it. And you already know what a filthy mouth he’s got from the dirty talking. And from talking to him tonight, you were more than excited to find out that his audios are a true reflection of his own kinks.

“Do you have one?” Jensen prompts, and you blindly reach under your bed for the box that holds your toys, throwing the lid off carelessly and wrapping your hand around your favourite vibrating silicone friend. 

You produce it in front of you, stopping Jensen in his tracks as he smirks, taking it from you and throwing it to the bed next to you both. 

“I don’t have a cock ring though,” you add with your own smirk, and Jensen chuckles lowly. 

“Don’t worry, I’m covered,” he tells you smugly, taking your hand and pushing it under his boxers. Your hand meets soft, warm velvety skin, and as it gets a little lower, you feel the rubber ring at the very base of his swollen cock. 

“Do you always go to bars wearing one of those?” you sass, wrapping your fingers around his erection and growing pleasantly surprised at the thickness. 

“I had it on for the audio this morning, y’know, for authenticity, and figured I’d leave it on because I was so horny. Meeting you was just the bonus,” he explains. 

“What else do you do for authenticity?” you tease, gasping when Jensen’s teeth sink into the delicate skin on your neck. “Do you…” you struggle to regain your composure, grinding your core up against his bare thigh, your slick coating his skin. “Do you actually eat pussy?” you finally manage to ask. 

“Unfortunately not. It’s been a while since I got to eat a pussy… don’t mind if I fill up on you, do you, baby girl?” 

“No, Daddy,” you whimper, not even ashamed at how quickly you submit to him. 

“Oh, someone’s been listening to my work… such a good little whore, f’me, aren’t you? Bet you taste fucking delicious.” 

Suddenly, Jensen’s face is gone, and you feel his hands grab the backs of your thighs and push your legs backwards, spreading you open. He doesn’t waste any time dining on your pussy, making sounds far more obscene then the audios could ever capture, and just when you thought this man couldn’t get you off any harder, you’ve finally felt his tongue for real, the stubble on his face rub along your delicate skin, you’ve finally felt exactly what this man can do to you. 

Your fingers comb through the hair on the top of his head, and Jensen only ever pauses to bite and suck on the flesh at the insides of your thighs, before returning to licking and sucking your pussy like a starved man. Your back arches into his touch, and you nearly lose your mind when you see him blindly reach for the dildo you’d given him, turning it on to a low rumble as he presses the tip to your entrance. 

“So fucking tight, baby girl, you like having something inside you when I eat that pussy, don’t you?” he growls, his voice slightly deeper and far more reminiscent of his “Dean” persona. 

You moan loudly, bucking your hips desperately as he begins to fuck you with your vibrator, and you find yourself torn between wanting his mouth back on your pussy, and wanting his cock replacing your toy. Amber’s right, sometimes you just need the real thing. Especially when the real thing is as tempting as Jensen’s. 

“Fuck, Daddy, feels so good, please don’t stop,” you beg, feeling his mouth back on your cunt in an instant, and he laps at your arousal and moans loudly around your clit when he sucks it between his lips. “Holy fuck,” you shout, staring up at the ceiling, not sure you’re even going to survive this. 

Jensen’s rutting against your mattress, but seems to be in no rush to finish eating you out any time soon, and your thighs tremble either side of his head as he coaxes your orgasm to the surface. 

“That’s it baby,” Jensen pauses for a brief second to say. “Cum f’me,” he growls. “Cum on Daddy’s tongue, c’mon, perfect little cunt, tastes so sweet, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he chuckles, looking up grinning at you like the devil. 

“Yes,” you whine, encouraging his mouth back on your clit as he now fucks your vibrator in and out of you so much better than the machine has ever managed to. 

Jensen doesn’t stop to talk again, he just hums and moans against your skin until you’re cumming hard and fast on the toy, and he’s quickly removing it to lap at your juices that are practically flooding out of you. 

As always when you listen to his work, your first orgasm does little to stave off the arousal he’s elicited from you, but luckily, it seems Jensen’s not done with you, because he licks his lips clean and hums, rising back to his knees between your legs. He begins stroking his cock in his hand, his eyes several shades darker as he looks down at you. 

“So,” he smirks, guiding the tip of his cock towards your soppy entrance, only teasing it with his tip before tapping the heavy length on your sensitive clit, making you squirm. “Which of my audios should we re-enact next?” he asks. 

“Any one that requires that inside me,” you reply, watching Jensen chuckle under his breath. 

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Want your own commission? Find out more here!

[moonstruckme]

I absolutely adore your roommate James series! It’s so tender and soft and sweet and it feels like the literary version of a hug 😭 you nail it every time!

Thank you sweetness!!! I am giving you a hug actually <3

cw: threatening with a weapon

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Things have come to a point where James needs to admit to himself that he likes you as more than a friend. 

The problem is, he likes you as a friend so much. He’s no stranger to the dilemma of risking a friendship for something more, but he’s not a teenager anymore and you’re not Lily. James knows he wouldn’t be able to play it off as a silly, harmless crush with you. And, really, he wouldn’t want to. You bully your way into his thoughts all day long. Your sweet voice, the way you talk with your eyes, tiny moments like the way your lips parted when he’d first slipped and called you sweetheart. You’d schooled your expression into teasing exasperation almost immediately, but there had been a softening in your eyes that made him impatient to do it again.

If he told you all that, James would probably come home to find all your things gone. You can barely handle it when he tells you you look nice. He doesn’t want to lose you. 

So, against his wishes and all his instincts and proclivities, he’s going to let it lie. James wants to be your friend more than he wants to discover what else you could be together. He can love you this way, too. 

That doesn’t do anything to deaden the thrill that goes up his spine when he picks up his phone and hears your voice on the other end, though.

“James?” 

“Y/n?” He checks the number on his phone. It’s not in his contacts. 

“Yeah. Um, are you—are you busy?” There’s a wobble in your voice. James’ heart drops straight down to his stomach. 

“I’m not,” he says, stopping short of the field where his teammates are gathering and turning back towards his car. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah.” It’s clearly not, but he was silly to ask. Of course you’d say that. “I just, if you’re free, I was wondering if you could maybe pick me up?” 

That wobble hasn’t gone from your voice. James’ heart trembles in solidarity. 

He gets back in his car, starting the ignition with perhaps a tad too much force. “I’m on my way,” he promises. “Where are you, what’s wrong?” 

“I’m outside the Waterstones on Manor Road, you know where that is?” 

“I know the one, yeah.” 

Your voice sounds held together by fragments. “I’m sorry, it’s far.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, then regrets it instantly. This is hardly the time for a good-natured scolding. He turns out of the parking lot. “I’m coming. What’s wrong?” 

“I’ve—I’ve had my phone and wallet taken. I don’t have my key to the apartment.” 

“Taken?” James’ head buzzes like a TV turned to the wrong channel. “By who?” 

“A man, I—I don’t know. Um, I’m borrowing this woman’s phone, and I think I should give it back.”

His lungs feel small, panic choking him. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Be safe, yeah?”  

“Yeah.” A breath crackles through the phone. James wonders if you’d been choking, too. “Thanks, James.” 

“Just be safe.” 

The sun has dipped below most buildings by the time he gets there. It makes it difficult to see you, but James’ eyes work like a compass, finding your shadowy form curled up on the curb. The bookstore looks to be closed or close to it, no patrons walking by you as you sit with your knees bent close to your chest. 

You see his car pull up, and he’s halfway to you before you’re even standing. Your arms come around James as readily as his around you, your face squished willingly into the fabric of his workout shirt. Your breath seems to stutter out of you. 

“It’s okay,” he says, grasping the back of your head. He’s not sure if he’s talking to you, or himself, or either of you. He’ll tell whoever will listen. “You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s alright.” 

“Sorry,” you squeak. “I don’t know why I’m crying now.” 

“You’re okay,” James says again, just for good measure. His lips find the top of your head. “What happened?” 

“I think I was mugged,” you laugh. It comes out warped, completely unlike the sound he’s spent months chasing after. “This guy showed me a knife, and told me to hand him my bag and phone, and I just gave them to him. It was right out in the open.” Another jagged, heart-aching laugh. “I feel so stupid.” 

“Why would someone else mugging you make you stupid?” James lets you go enough to give you a little space, but his arms stay around you, his hand rubbing firmly over your shoulder blade. “Did you call the police?” 

You gnaw on your lower lip. It already looks bitten to shreds. “No.” 

He nods, taking a breath. James isn’t typically the responsible one in his relationships. He’s not good at knowing what to do. It makes him think of being thirteen and seeing Sirius all bruised and broken, feeling his heart break and knowing that he had to fix things despite the both of them being too young to have any clue how to deal with something so huge. James is an adult now, but he still feels too young. 

“Do you want to go home?” he asks you. 

You bite down hard on your lip, but your eyes gloss anyway. “Yeah,” you say, voice breaking. 

James pulls you close and gives in to treating you the way he wants to, kisses pressed into your hairline and tender words pouring from his lips. He gets you into the car and takes you home. 

Throughout the rest of the evening, you’re at once more reticent and more talkative than you’ve ever been. You’ll stare into the distance for minutes at a time, but then you’ll speak up, seemingly randomly, about some small fact you’d forgotten or a thought that’s been pushing at your consciousness. You tell him that you don’t think you could describe the man well enough to the police. That you have no concept of how long you stood around before you thought to ask for someone else’s phone. That you sort of wish you’d refused to hand yours over, because really what was the worst that could have happened?

“Well, he could have stabbed you,” James says.

“Yeah, but how often is that really fatal? And he might not have. It’s embarrassing, all he had to do was show me the knife and I turned everything over. I probably would have been fine.” 

“I don’t think you’re automatically fine if you’re not dead, angel. You were still at risk of being stabbed.” 

“I’d still have my phone and everything, though.” 

“I think you’re worth a bit more than that stuff.” 

“Mm, agree to disagree.” 

James does things he doesn’t particularly want to do—phoning your bank, filing a police report online, texting your landlord about a new set of keys—and several things he really does want to do. Once you’ve changed into your cozy clothes he practically swaddles you in blankets, putting a hot chocolate in your hand and that show you’re always watching on the TV. He makes you dinner, teases you until he gets a real smile, puts your mum’s number in his phone and texts her to let her know you’re okay. James touches you amply, lips on your cheek and hand smoothing the hair from your face and one knee pressing into your leg through the blanket. 

And you let him. 

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Agent Peña

Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.

Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)

A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Are you sure this is the last box?” 

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”

“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.” 

You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space. 

You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp. 

“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.” 

“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised. 

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment. 

“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!” 

“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture. 

“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again. 

“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle. 

“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip. 

“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.” 

“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…” 

“Osita…”   

“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.” 

“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed. 

“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened. 

“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi. 

Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker. 

Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.

 As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner. 

You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.

You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see. 

It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways. 

With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front. 

You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.

You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them. 

Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box. 

And holy fuck did he look hot. 

Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground. 

While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen. 

Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it. 

You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box. 

“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.

He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.

“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view. 

“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up. 

“Hermosa, are you okay?” 

“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.

But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind. 

Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade. 

“What’s going on, baby?” 

With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you. 

“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.” 

“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you. 

“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-” 

“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.” 

Oh, fuck me. 

“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?” 

“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it. 

“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body. 

“Like, right now?” 

“Like, right now.” 

Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest. 

“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.

As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.” 

“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat. 

“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room. 

“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal. 

You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming. 

“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…” 

“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function. 

“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further. 

“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”  

“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.  

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?” 

In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth. 

You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers. 

Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal. 

It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic. 

“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 

It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin. 

“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came. 

That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly. 

“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor. 

“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace. 

You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible. 

“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-”  You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him. 

Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure. 

“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.” 

You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear. 

“You still okay, Osita?” 

“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again. 

“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response. 

“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again. 

“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.

He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt. 

You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser. 

Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.” 

The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core. 

Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him. 

“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came. 

“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high. 

“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath. 

Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point. 

“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.” 

“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.” 

“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-” 

“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.” 

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics. 

“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.” 

“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?” 

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.” 

“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.” 

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem

[atomicami]

cami would you write a sub abby? like maybe where she needs your help to get off?🤭🩷

my sweet dani, that mind of yours truly is incredible…i wrote this one just for you querida 🤍

close call

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: it’s the night before the annual bake sale, and abby needs your touch now more than ever.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel & jerry are still alive (jerry is not a doctor in this), reader has a business degree, abby gets needy, sneaking out, oral & fingering (a!receiving), masturbation (r), abby whimpering and begging?? and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: well if i’m being honest i really did not expect to be writing another contractor!abby fic so soon, but this request gives so much desperate contractor!abby energy that i just had to do it. however i do have to clarify that this is not a part 3. i’ve stated this before in one of my asks, but part 3 is going to be more about the bake sale…this is just more of a little bonus chapter i guess.

anyways, this one’s for you dani, and for all of my contractor!abby fans out there that need a little pick me up rn. i hope y’all enjoy it 🫶🏻

You didn’t expect to be doing it again so soon.

After you had snuck your way out of work to go see Abby at her father’s contracting site, you have to admit that the rest of this week flew by surprisingly fast for you.

You had been keeping yourself occupied in the meantime, between doing customer calls at work and preparing for the bake sale, you’ve been quite patient with yourself and didn’t feel the need to have to sneak out again until the next time you’d plan to see Abby. It was almost as if you simply had just been sick that day, and Abby’s touch was the remedy that cured you.

Although…there might be a feeling that you’ve jinxed yourself in saying so when you receive a phone call the night before.

You spent the morning on your work shift as usual, and your dad was generous enough to let you go before lunchtime so you could start baking for the sale tomorrow. After spending the rest of your day prepping, mixing, baking, and decorating, you were left with a variety of fresh pastries by sundown, ready to sell the next morning.

By the time you finished cleaning up the kitchen and getting ready for bed, the clock struck 10 p.m. Normally you’d stay up a little longer, but after the exhausting day you’ve had today, you genuinely needed to rest for tomorrow. You had to be downtown by 7 a.m. to set up at the farmer’s market for the bake sale. Given how weary you were, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

However, you were only able to get a few hours of sleep in before your phone began to ring.

The sound of your ringtone startles you awake. Letting out a tired groan, you muster up the energy to reach over to your nightstand to turn on your light and pick up your phone to see who was calling you.

���Abby?” you whisper to yourself, rubbing your eyes to get a better look at the screen. Once you do, the phone call disappears and your lock screen shows with the missed notification, giving you a chance to look at the time.

It was barely past 1 a.m. Why the hell was she calling you this late?

Her contact name shows up once again in a second call, and this time you swipe to answer.

“Abby…what is it?” you answer groggily to her.

“Hey…are you awake?” she asks shyly.

You roll your eyes before responding. “I am now.”

“Look, I’m sorry if I did wake you up, but I really need you right now…”

Her words start to replay in your head. The tone she had in her voice…she didn’t sound like her usual, cocky self. She sounded desperate…kind of like how you were the last time you saw her.

“Abby, it’s one in the morning…what is it that can’t wait until later?”

You knew what she was asking for, you just needed to make her say it. Kind of like how she made you tell her last time.

“I um…I can’t get myself off,” she muttered back. It was quiet, but not quiet enough to where you couldn’t hear her.

You simply nod, soon remembering that she couldn’t see you right now. “Alright, um…do you have your boxers on, then?”

“No—I mean, yes I do, but I don’t mean this…I need you to come over.”

You scoff at her through the phone. She truly can’t be serious. Having to do this over the phone would already be difficult enough for you. But to sneak yourself out in the middle of the night to do so? It was going to be too much.

“Abby, you can’t be serious right now—“

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that…My dad isn’t even home right now, please?”

“Okay, but my dad is.” You reply to her instantly. “There’s no way I’m gonna be able to get out of my house without waking him up.”

You keep trying to tell her that it’s not going to work out, but Abby continues to beg about it. As much as you wanted to, it clearly wasn't the right time to do so. But eventually, you just had to give in.

“Okay, fine! I’ll come over…” you said, quickly lowering your voice down. “Just…just give me five minutes.”

After hanging up the phone, you get up from your bed, taking the time to stretch in the process. Grabbing the first pair of shoes you find, you quickly slip them on before grabbing your phone and keys and exiting your room.

Once you’ve shut the door, you begin to tiptoe down the hall as to not wake up your father. The door of Joel’s bedroom was slightly cracked open, and you could see that he was fast asleep. You quietly pass by his bedroom and make your way down the stairs, praying that the wood doesn't start creaking from the weight of your footsteps.

Before you know it, you’ve successfully made it out the door, and you begin to cross the street to Abby’s place. Once you’ve made it to her front door, your phone buzzes again.

“Abby: there’s a spare key under the mat.”

Jesus. The least she could’ve done was to have let you in her own house, especially since you had to do most of the work sneaking yourself out.

You reach down and slide your hand under the doormat, quickly finding the key that was hidden underneath before unlocking the door and letting yourself in. It’s the first time you’ve been inside Abby’s house, and you’re not bothered to even get a good look at it, you just needed to find her right now.

After wandering throughout her house for what feels like forever, you finally find her bedroom. Not even bothering to knock, you simply walk in to see Abby lying in the center of her bed, her long blonde locks draped over her shoulders, and her muscle tank covering her top half while the rest of her body was covered with her duvet from the waist down.

“Hey,” she pants out, propping herself up on her bed to get a better look at you. “I’m so sorry I had to—“

“Sit up,” you tell her, cutting off her sentence.

“What?”

“You heard me. Sit up.”

You then walk your way over to the left side of her bed and kneel on the ground, causing Abby to scramble around and sit up from her bed. Once you’re settled on the ground, she’s got her legs hanging off the bed, and you can see that she doesn’t have anything on underneath.

“Thought you said you had your boxers on,” you told her.

“I-I did…I just couldn’t wait for you to get here…” she replies, looking away from you as she does so.

“And you say I’m the needy one…” you mutter to yourself. You then spread Abby’s legs open, revealing her pussy to you. Despite how truly annoyed you were that she made you have to sneak out in the middle of the night, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to be touching her like this right now…because your mouth was practically watering at the sight of her wet pussy.

Without hesitation, you insert two of your fingers inside her. Her body jerks back for a moment at the sudden touch, before soon settling down, letting her pussy relax around your fingers.

It seemed like Abby was trying to compose herself right now because you could hear how hard she was trying to hold back her whimpers and whines as you kept slowly pumping your fingers in and out of her.

“M-More…” she whispers out to you, trying her best to not sound needy.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You asked, eyes still fixated on her pussy.

“I-I need more, please…” she responds, her voice just a little louder this time.

You look up at her as your fingers continue to move inside her pussy, your movements not stopping as you maintained eye contact with her. “I’m gonna need you to be more specific than that, Abigail, or else I’m not giving you what you want,” you tell her sternly.

You can easily see her trying to hold back her frustration right now, and you were honestly enjoying it. The fact that you’ve put her in this state of submission outside of her usual cocky persona truly has you beaming with pride.

“I—fuck—I need your mouth, p-please…” she whines out to you, hands gripping onto the sheets as your fingers curl into her g spot.

“See, there you go…That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” you tease back at her before leaning in and attaching your mouth to her clit as you continued to finger her.

It didn’t take long for the speed of your fingers to increase inside her pussy and for your mouth to suck harder on her throbbing clit. Between the pleasure you were giving her and the whimpers and moans that were escaping from her mouth, you can’t help but feel the need to take care of yourself down there.

As you continue to eat Abby out, your non-dominant hand begins to trail its way down into your shorts and slide below your underwear. You instantly feel a sense of relief once your fingertips reach your clit, rubbing it gently as you continued to give Abby the pleasure she needed.

You began to whimper and moan into her pussy, the vibrations from your mouth causing chills to rush through Abby’s body as she tried to chase her orgasm.

Her pussy soon began to clench around your fingers more than usual, indicating that she was close. You briefly removed your mouth from her pussy to speak to her, quickly replacing it with your thumb in the meantime. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?” you asked, looking up at her.

Abby nodded quickly in response. “Y-yes, fuck, p-please don’t stop…” she whined out, quickly grabbing your head with one hand and pushing it back into her pussy while her other hand grips onto the edge of her bed.

You were practically being suffocated in between her strong thighs right now, but you could honestly care less. You weren’t stopping until she finished. You continued to desperately moan and whine into her pussy as you kept rubbing your needy clit with your other hand, trying to chase your orgasm as well.

“Oh fuck, baby, right there, I’m gonna—Fuck!”

Abby tried her best to warn you, she really did, but before you both knew it, her release was already spilling out of her pussy and onto your fingers and mouth, causing you to greedily drink up every last drop of her before slowly removing your mouth and fingers out of her.

Once Abby had recovered from her orgasm, she looked down at you just in time to see you take your other hand out of your shorts. She kept her eyes on your fingers, admiring how they were covered in your release as a result of the pleasure you just gave to her.

She brings her hand down to your chin and lifts it to meet her eyes with yours. The deja vu feeling was hitting her now the second she saw your pupils blown out once again, just like how you were not even a week ago when you went down on her under her desk while she was sitting across from her father.

You hesitate for a moment before soon making the effort to stand up to her height, bringing your two fingers that were coated in your slick up to her lips.

“Clean them up,” you commanded.

Abby nodded as she held the hand that was put to her mouth before parting her lips and sucking your fingers clean. Her eyes were trained on yours, maintaining eye contact as she did so.

“There you go, just like that…” you mutter out to her quietly.

Once they were clean, Abby removed your fingers from her mouth, making a slight pop sound as she did so. You lean in to plant a kiss on her lips, tasting a bit of yourself from her lips and vice versa. You then reach down to grab your phone and keys before walking towards her bedroom door to leave.

However, you pause in your tracks for one moment and turn your head around to look at her fucked out self one more time.

“I’ll see you at the bake sale.” you reminded her, that same smirk appearing now on both of your faces before you turned back around and exited her bedroom, now leaving her by herself.

Well, it’s safe to say that Abby was going to have to return the favor for you real soon.

- a/n: i have to admit this one’s not my best work, it was my first time writing sub abby y’all believe me i tried my best 🙏🏻

also, i don’t usually self promote my fics but i did post my first dina fic the other day, it’s called overnight sensation and it’s a smau series. i’ve spent a lot of time and effort in making that fic so far so it’ll truly mean a lot to me if you guys could check it out 🤍

but other than that, i’ll see you guys in part 3!

tags 🏷️: @abbyscherry @whore4abby @zombholic @aouiaa @uraesthete @lia-winther @gaptoothedlesbo @deadbolted @abbysfavewh0rx @echostinn @mochiivqi @floptron @totallyghostdgirl @swtsuna @bellaramslover @naomis-daydream @ur-fav-pixi @sirenbxby @paprikahoernchen @thesevi0lentdelights @mostlyhornyandsad @tohoko

(^ i think that’s everyone?? let me know if i missed anyone/if you’d like to be tagged in the real part 3 LOL)

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: separation, flirtatious commentary, mentions of sex (lmk if anymore

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9 - part 10 - part 11 - part 12 - part 13

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

“There’s our love stricken captain.” Gaz says as John finally appears through the heavy compound doors. As they all look at him it's very noticeable he’s in love, their captain looks well, the boys all assumed the bags under his eyes were permanent but looking at him they seem to be fully gone and all his features look brighter. 

“Come on let's debrief.” is all he says while walking to his office, the three men immediately rise from where they were sitting and follow behind him.

“Pants looking extra snug captain.” soap mutters.

“Yeah it's called happiness son, ever heard of it?” John swifty jabs back, swinging the empty room door open.

“No, unfortunately I have not.” 

“And stop looking at my ass.” John says while sliding manilla folders across the table as their hands each reach for one.

“Yeah Johnny, stop looking at the captain's ass.” gaz adds.

“I wasn't!” soap says flipping the folder open harshly.

“Back to business.” John says as he begins speaking through their plan of attack.

—------

“How’d the missus take it?” john likes the term simon uses to refer to you, gives him hope that one day you will be his Mrs.

“Good, at least that's what she made it seem like.” Simon  reads right through the soft frown that covers his captain's face, it wasn’t easy for him.

“Did she cry?” Simon says as the both come to a halt scanning their access cards to the armory.

“A little, felt like a fucking bullet to the chest.” 

“At least you know she actually likes you.” Simon was never good at comforting people but that outright made his captain laugh.

“Yeah at least, not like sharing moments of intimacy in our own world and exchanging words of endearment was enough.” John's smile creases at the side of his eyes as he lightly shoves Simon's shoulder.

 —------------

Back at home you slept until late in the evening only waking up from your buzzing phone vibrating under your pillow. Not checking who it is because quite frankly you don't care, you press the phone to your ear with a sigh.

“Hello.”

“Doll?” you sit up looking at the name on your phone it’s an unidentified number then you realize immediately pressing it back to your ear.

“John!” 

“Yeah, everything alright?” he worriedly replies.

“Yes I was just sleeping.” you say softly smiling tears already filling your eyes.

“Alone I hope.” 

“Want a picture?” you say seductively. 

“On this government issued phone? Absolutely.” He cracks a smile at the sound of your laugh, his task force stares at him like he’s a zoo animal, inspecting closely, especially the soldiers who don’t know him as anything apart from brutal.

“I'm actually calling to let you know I'll be on a helicopter for the next couple of hours and don’t know when I'll be able to contact you again.” he says, turning around to view the sunset, the same one he knows cascades your guys’ room in a beautiful shade of orange.

“Okay, stay safe, call me when you can, and I love you a lot and I don't even know what to say.” your charm travels through the phone like electricity and he just wants to kiss your face.

“I love you, keep safe till then. I left my card on top of the kitchen table for anything and everything. Please use it.” you sigh and he can practically see you shaking your head. He couldn’t promise his safety when he basically sold it once he began this occupation.

“John you slick man, you don't have to do things like that.” you say as the helicopter rotors start spinning.

“Yeah but I do, gotta go doll talk soon.”

“Bye hon.” With that he hears the click, biting the inside of his cheek as anxiety creeps its way up his neck, he’ll be far from you further than ever and can only pray for your safety instead of ensuring it and it makes him sick.

—-----------------

You moped, and good god was it humiliating, you'd been a single independent lady for years before meeting john but now it was like being put into an isolated home after living in new york city. There was nothing to do, you cleaned, cooked, painted but nothing was curing the pure ache of boredom and yearning. 

The morning after his departure was single handedly the hardest, the weight of his body creased beside you, keeping you warm even in little clothes, his breathing that'd softly blow atop your head had not been there.

Still no call you disappointedly noticed when you hurriedly checked your phone when it had started buzzing, just a spam call you sigh rolling out of bed and heading to the bathroom.

“I should call my sister.” you say to yourself in the mirror with a small nod. Happily walking back to bed you dial the phone.

“Hey stranger, been a while.” she says with subtle amusement.

“It's been like four days?” you smile.

“That's a lifetime ago.”

“Want to come over, stay for a bit?” you ask for the first time in a long time.

“I don't kn-”

“Please.” 

“Yeah, I'll try to catch the next train. Let me pack some clothes and I'll call you back.” when she hangs up you sigh in relief, nothing in this world could cure loneliness like spending time with her.

—------------

“So you’re trying to tell me YOU HAVEN'T HAD SEX!” soap exclaims.

“I didn’t say that I said I'm not disclosing my personal intimate life with you.” John says while huffing on a cigar tired of being in this goddamn helicopter with a four year old.

“Same thing.” 

“Johnny shut up good grief.” Gaz says, rubbing his forehead in defeat when Johnny starts up again.

“You guys are so boring, how much time do we have left anyways.” he sighs out dramatically.

“An hour.” Simon replies.

“Oh so he speaks.” Johnny happily says looking at Simon with wide eyes waiting for a response. Pindrop silence overtakes the cabin.

“Or maybe he doesn’t.”

—-----------------------

thank you for the love and support <3

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppuff @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @Dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe @spyderdoll @angels-gonna-play @viisgrave @lieutenantlashfaz @sunndust @beckythecatqueen-blog @aoioozora @o-birdseed-o @mothmothmothmothmothmoth @ihateuguys @oversensitivitea @spicyspicyliving @maladptivedaydreaming

[bueckerrss]

I LOVE YOU TOO MUCH - PAIGE BUECKERS

summary𞠬: read to find out

warnings: angst, no happy ending.

tags: @patscorner @wintersstan @pbueckerslover @h34rtsformilli @cosmopretty

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

i love you too much

imessage

tuesday may 17 2022 at 2:00 am

i love you see you tomorrow 🫶

i love you more 💗

wednesday may 18 2022 at 3:00 pm

i’m outside

my wife 💕 hearted a message

ok i’m omw

imessage

sunday march 5 2023 3:00 pm

i just arrived to uncasville babe

i’ll text you when i have time

sent at 3:00 pm

babe? we’re about to go warm up are

you good? i haven’t heard from you

sent 7:00 pm

please respond i haven’t heard from

you in a few hours

sent 9:00 pm

hey babe we won the game

are you alright? are you

ignoring me? if you are

please tell me what i did wrong.

sent at 11:30 pm

i shut off my phone with a sigh as i sat down in my seat “girlfriend problems?” asked ashlynn as she sat down next to me “in between yes and no like she hasn’t been responding to my messages and i’m getting worried” i responded as i tapped on my phone to see if she had responded.

“maybe she was busy don’t worry about it” before i could respond my phone rang without looking at the contact i picked up “babe?” i responded with a smile, that smile slowly falling as tears welled up in my eyes “are you sure?” tears fell as she spoke.

imessage

march 15 2023 at 3:00 am

i’m sorry

⏼ not delivered

i miss you

⏼ not delivered

march 20 2023 at 6:00 pm

i got a tattoo today

of your favorite flower

just like we talked about

⏼ not delivered

march 27 2023 at 10:30 pm

we had a game today,

really miss seeing

you in the crowd.

⏼ not delivered

- one month later -

i arrived flowers in my hand i smiled as i saw how beautiful she looked, the sun making her glow more than usual, “i’ve missed you so much you know? the day you left hurt me so much, i haven’t forgiven myself for not being there enough. i brought you flowers knowing how much you love them,” i said placing them down on her grave.

heaven’s my witness and this is a fact

you live in my soul, your heart is my goal

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

i’m backkkk 🫶 but um if this sucks i’m sorry it was so rushedddddd 😰😰 love yall 🫶🫶

[just-a-ghost00]

A short letter from them <3

Warning : this reading could be triggering.

Group 1

Cards - Surrender, Trust, The Universe, Soul work, Ancestors, Reflect, Page of cups, King of cups, 3 of pentacles, 5 of swords, Black Numen, The Hierophant

I see myself in you. It is troubling as much as it is freeing. I don't love myself enough to admit that I love you. I want to be a better person before I can come up to you.I hate that I have to be away from you. There is nothing I want more than to be close to you but duty calls. I have my own karma to resolve, my own issues and challenges to deal with. I understand now that the Universe let us meet for a reason. I realize that you were a lesson for me to learn. That all good things in life ask for dedication and faith. And I was not ready for you. I had dedication but I didn't have faith. Now I see clearly what I have to do. You awakened something in me I didn't know I had. Now I want to do more, live more, feel more. I want to shine brighter than before. I want to be a person you can be proud of. My ultimate goal is to propose to you. There will be a long way ahead before I can even dream of holding your hand again. In the meantime, I will work harder, better, faster, stronger. I'm sure you know that song too. Let us connect through music. When we're apart, I hope the songs we liked to listen to will keep you company and remind you of me, just as they will remind me of you. I'll hold you dear to my heart. Can you please do the same? ♡︎

Reader's insights : My alarm started ringing as I was shuffling your cards. I was hesitating on keeping the Reflect card and that's when the alarm chimed in so I took that as a confimation that yes this person is a reflection of you. The signs of Taurus, Scorpio, Leo and Aquarius could be significant. I get strong Twin flame vibes from this group. For some of you I pick up on cultural differences. A part of the reasons why this person is scared to come forward is because they're afraid of their family's opinion regarding your connection. They think that they wouldn't be too keen on having you in the family because you are from a different background. But your person doesn't care about your differences, in fact it's what drew them in and it's why they love you. They also were amazed at how similar you could be dispite your differences. I'm definitely picking up on long distance relationships. You aren't in contact with them at the moment or the contact is minimal. This person is going through some existential crisis. Meeting you put everything into perspective. You rocked their world.

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

Group 2

Cards - Reflect, Ascension, Withdraw, Play, Power (horizontal), get creative, Wheel of fortune, 7 of wands, 10 of pentacles, ace of swords, 2 of pentacles, 2 of swords

I feel like I constantly have to fight for your attention. You're always busy, always on the go. You always have something to do, something to say to someone that can't wait another day. So many excuses. Do I even matter? Like, do you even care about us? I know you're my soulmate and honestly it frustrates me because I feel like I have to go through so many struggles to just have one happy moment with you, without other people getting their nose in our business. It's always my friend said this, my family did that. What about me? What about what I said or did? What about my feelings? Honestly, do you even want me in your life? Because if you don't I have no problem with that. However I have a problem with you wasting my time and hurting me. I can be pretty open minded I just need people to be honest and mature enough to voice out what's wrong for them. You feel so distant and I don't know what to do anymore with this. To tell you the truth, I'm considering leaving and entertaining other connections because at this point why even bother? When I'm in the mood for more and ready to keep things going you just retreat to your shell and put up a wall between us. At least tell me what's wrong. If I've done something that hurt you I want to own up to it and apologize properly. I can't read your mind.

Reader's insights : I kept being distracted as I shuffled your cards. People might be interfering in this connection to deter you from being with that person if this is a romantic connection. This person thinks that you're seeing someone else and/or playing with them. Before even reading for you and writing what this person wanted to say, I felt a lot of frustration bubbling up in my chest. The cards feel quickly so this person has a lot on their plate. I'm sorry if this reading is triggering to some of you. You can't seem to see eye to eye with this person. There are serious communication issues in this group because I feel like you may be in the same energy as this person. You don't know what they want either, you feel like they keep running away from you. There's a lot of confusion between the two of you as to where this is going and what each other's intentions are. You don't trust one another, it's a battle of egos that seems like it's never ending.

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

Group 3

Cards - 9 of pentacles, The Magician, The Star, Page of cups, Temperance, 8 of pentacles, Speak Truth, Movement, Play, The Magi, The Creator, Versatility

Ever since we parted ways, I feel like my life is finally making sense. I feel better in my shoes, better in my skin. And I honestly think it's better this way. My career took a positive turn. I am more abundant. I feel like I'm in alignment with my destiny. I feel like life is finally smiling to me and I can finally work toward what I always wanted. I think going our separate ways was the best thing that could happen to us. Because I know deep down I would have choked being next to you. Being away from you allows me to express my true self. To explore and figure out who I am. To indulge in pleasures I didn't know existed, to give life to dreams I didn't know I had. I feel like I'm rebirthing. I'm finally in control of my life and my destiny. It took meeting you to realize I was not happy and for that I am grateful. I know this isn't what you would like to hear. But for once in my life I want to stop pleasing people and start pleasing myself. I will now give myself the love I deserve and needed. And I hope you can respect that. I am now moving on and flying on my own. Thank you for the memories.

Reader's insights : I felt quite nervous doing this reading, my body was tense. There were remanent energies from group 2 because I kept thinking of their last song The Negative. You might want to check group 2 if you hesitated between group 3 and group 2. It was like this person hesitated saying the things they said because they thought you'd take it personally and they're aware of the wrongs it would cause. But they had to get it off their chest. The signs of Gemini, Aquarius, Sagittarius may be significant.

[m-musings]

Hii, so excited to find someone who writes for Jack Frost! Could you possibly write some headcanons for him with a s/o that's a fairy that cares for the forest. They are easily flustered by his charms despite how far in denial they are about it...

A/N: love me some good ol' frosty boy headcanons lol hope you like these! :)

NOTICE (7/10/24) : NO LONGER WRITING FOR ROTG

Word Count:635 Warnings: none, all fluff

Headcanons: Jack Frost X Forest Fairy! Reader

Jack has been flirty with you since the very first moment he saw you.

He had been flying through the countryside to give a nearby town one final snow day for the year when from the corner of his eye, he saw you entering the treeline in a soft green outfit.

Being the curious guy he is, he decided to follow you, just to see what you were doing alone in the wild.

When he found you, you were growing some new spring flowers on the forest floor and after he had introduced himself, he seized the opportunity to use a flower themed picked up line.

And while it was kind of a dumb line, it still made a few butterflies erupt in your stomach.

That’s where your friendship (and mutual crush) began!

Once you get more comfortable in each other's presence, Jack will take every chance he gets to spend time with you.

He’ll try and help you with things around the forest or even help you relax if you’ve been working a little too hard.

In his typical fashion, Jack will lay on the charm and banter 100x’s more than usual just to see you try and hide the bashful expression on your face

You try your best not to be affected, but with how smooth he is, you almost always end up swooning as he flirts his way further into your heart.

Jack is enamored with every little thing you do and isn’t afraid to tell you exactly how he feels. He’ll even use his powers to create things for you as a way to show his affection and ask you to be his significant other.

And while you may feel the same way, you refuse to give in to his advances that easily. After all, You’re very busy and won’t let your fondness for him get in the way of your responsibilities to the woods.

Even so, you will also give him small plants and flowers with a subtle smile etched on your face as you thank him.

There are times when Jack will invite you to North’s workshop so that you can meet the Guardians and tell them about all of your experiences while taking care of the woods (and so that he can show you off to Bunny).

It’s important to him that you are always comfortable with and around him so if he feels like he’s overstepping any boundaries with you, he’ll take a step back and give you any space you may need.

But, If you or the forest are ever in any kind of danger, he will gather up the others as quickly as he can and rush over to help you beat whatever villain was threatening you. 

In the moments after, his only thought would be making sure that you’re safe and will frantically scan over your body to make sure you got through unscathed.

Seeing the normally joyful winter spirit so distraught over a simple nature fairy like you fills you with a need to break away from your typical hesitancy, so to calm him down, you’d carefully place your palm against his pale face and redirect his gaze to yours.

When he feels your gentle touch and finally makes eye contact with you, Jack’s panicky breathing would begin to even out with a relieved sigh as he realizes that you’re okay.

He’d give you a soft smile and gingerly pull you into his chest for a chilly but still somehow warm hug, which you end up accepting even if you still deny just how much you actually care for the snowy spirit man.

He would playfully tease you about loving him the next time he comes to see you and notice that this time, you aren’t as quick to shut down the idea.

[qwimchii]

𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 (pt. 4) — 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

playlist pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 (10/24)

𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘤 — 12𝘬

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵!𝘢𝘶, 141𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨!𝘢𝘶, 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 (10𝘺𝘳𝘴), 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 & 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘴 & 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 😞

note: oml. i cannot thank you guys enough for your patient. this took me a lot longer than i thought it would (i've been writing the whole day LMFAO). your patience and support has been literally amazing and i love each and every one of you. thank you so much 😭💐💞 please enjoy &lt;33

you gasped, scrambling back into the bed.

the girl just stood there. stock still. like a ghost. eyes so shadowed in the darkness that they looked like two black pits staring at you.

your heart beat out of your chest, blood thickening to a slow gurgle, as you reached slowly for something solid on the nightstand. you made contact with the glass cup.

you were surprised by the amount of force in your voice. “are you here to kill me?”

she just stared, unblinking. 

a roiling turmoil of heat built right in your chest, and you snapped, “are you one of Turner’s men?”

she scoffed, and it only added to the flame of your ire, before you heard the soft click of her gun cocking.

“no,” she said, defiant, turning her chin up at you. “but you do have a nice ransom on your head.”

her head tilted, taking you in with a dark look that raked across your body. “and i recognized that man you were with. Ghost, is it?”

oh.

your eyes narrowed. “how do you know him?”

the better question was how did she recognize him?

your heart sank.

“i’ve done business with him,” she said cooly, and your heart just sank further. 

it made sense now. why she was standing at the door, her attention trained on Ghost, marching away when the other man told her to leave. she was expecting a customer.

maybe even a regular one.

then, she frowned at you. “not in ways that you are thinking.”

curling relief soared in your chest, and a weight lifted from your shoulders as you released a shaky breath.

she threw down the gun onto the floor and it skidded across the wooden floorboards, hitting the post of the bed with a thunk. mind clouded with confusion, you looked up at her with a furrowed brow.

she straightened her shoulders. “i’m here to save you.”

you blinked. save you?

“save me?” you squeaked, and her face twitched with annoyance.

“yes,” she said, striding forward to the bed, “we have to hurry. come.”

you scurried further back into the bed, yelping when you almost fell off the side.

she stopped in her tracks, watching you struggle in the sheets with flushed cheeks. quickly, you drew the yellow robe that was discarded on the floor around your body, hoping she didn’t see anything in the dark, and turned to her again, fumbling with the knot of it.

you were still holding the glass cup.

she looked down to it in your hands and then back up, mouth in twisted line.

embarrassed, you put the cup behind you on the nightstand.

“your father?” she chewed out slowly, “he has a ransom. he wants you alive.”

“what?” 

“your father. he wants you—”

a thick cloud of confusion settled in your furrowed brow, and you shot out, “i thought Turner wanted me dead.”

the girl gave you a long look, face twisted and hands clenched into the fabric of her dress. “he does. your father doesn’t.”

your mouth fell open, tongue heavy, then closed again.

“are they not working together?” there was a little flicker of hope deep within yourself.

“they are,” she said with raised brows, “they are working to come to an agreement over you.”

your stomach twisted. you felt like puking. 

you flattened yourself against the far wall of the room to stop the nauseating swirls of dizziness racking your mind, creating a marginal distance from the girl who loomed with a veil of impatience over her face, hands clenched by her sides and shoulders braced. a roil of fear boiled in you.

“you can’t take me,” you whispered, voice weak and trampled.

her frown deepened. “you want to stay with Ghost?”

“i am waiting for him,” you said carefully, and the girl scoffed, turning on her heel.

“do you think he will come back?”

your throat felt closed up. “what?”

“do you think he will come back?” she asked again, slowly, like you couldn’t understand her words. she pointed towards the low table in the room—there was a drawstring pouch you didn’t notice before.

“he left that for you at the front desk before he left. i came in to deliver it,” she explained, and you followed her line of sight to the gun at the foot of the bed.

ah. she came in to deliver them as well as threaten you. or save you, in her words. maybe both.

your eyes narrowed. “what are you saying?”

in the darkness of the room, you could see her roll her eyes.

“he left you money and that revolver.”

your head swirled, a pulsing headache building right in the base of your forehead. he left you these items—why? to protect yourself?

he said the brothel was safe. 

a sour taste filled your mouth. why would you need to protect yourself if it was safe?

unless you left the brothel.

you fought the droop of your head with a sharp twinge of your heart, deflating from the inside out.

“he wasn’t planning on coming back,” she gritted out, sounding more impatient than anything.

“you don’t know that,” you snapped, “it’s not dawn yet. he promised me he’d be back by dawn.”

she grew very still. “why do you want to stay with him? has he not been using you for…?”

her eyes roamed down the revealing nature of your robe, then flitted back up to your eyes. her face was stoney cold. serious.

you stiffened. Ghost had promised you he would never bed you again for revenge. had he been telling the truth? you didn’t know.

“i don’t know.”

she scoffed again, muttering under her breath, “she doesn’t know,” and turning away, rubbing over her face.

you swallowed down the growing swollen tightness in your throat, a familiar burn building at the waterline of your eyes. “you don’t understand. if you give me to my daddy…”

she turned back to you and your voice faltered. “i don’t want to be a mistress.”

her stoney face crumpled, eyes narrowed with unease, but you pressed on, “my daddy. he owns a saloon chain and made a business deal with Turner—investment and protection.”

your voice dimmed, quiet and low. “i was part of that deal. my daddy was going to give me to Turner as his mistress.”

the girl was silent, stark still in the darkness, mulling over something in her swirling eyes.

“alright.”

your eyes snapped to her. “alright?”

“i don’t work for Turner. i don’t work for your father. i don’t work for anybody but myself,” she said.

you nodded slowly, trying to digest that, searching her eyes for a twisted lie, but only finding a blank stoney void and truth. instead, you asked, “what about Ghost?”

she paused for a moment, looking apprehensive, before explaining, “when Ghost was younger, and when the law used to be trouble for him, he would hide here in this brothel. he paid for my services for a week but didn’t touch me once. he wanted something else.”

something else? you thought, hands growing clammy and cold.

she turned her head from you. “he wanted my secrets. powerful people tell me too much in the midst of an intimate night. now, i recognize Ghost’s gesture for what it was. he was not being kind to me like i believed him to be.”

her voice was eerily void. “he wanted to use me.”

then, she said, “i was sold by my father for fifty american dollars.”

you flinched. it made you wonder how much Turner had promised your daddy in exchange for you.

her stare was glazed over, dark and unnatural. you suppressed a shiver and listened to what she had to say, clutching at the wall tighter when she slowly stepped forward towards you.

“i know what it is like to want to be useful. i, too, once believed that it was necessary for my father to sell me to feed my brothers. i told myself that the entire way by ship from china. then, i told myself that helping Ghost would give me purpose.”

her voice was stronger, and she drew so near you could see the swirling pattern of her crimson dress. “now, i am not of use to anyone except for myself. i worked hard to get here. this is one of the kindest and most well-paying brothels in the city. most girls only last for five years after being sold into prostitution.”

her words were icy cold. “i worked hard to survive.”

“i’m…” your voice failed in your choked up throat, pangs of heaviness breaking your heart apart. you wanted to apologize but that didn’t feel like enough.

she pinned you with a hard look. “i do not want your pity.”

you slowly sunk down the wall, till your backside hit the cold, hard floor, and you wrapped your arms around your knees. all your problems felt dwarfed in front of this girl, but you still shook with fear.

“i won’t go back to my daddy,” you whispered, words trembling, but defiant nonetheless.

she got on her knees, creeping towards you till she leaned against the wall in the spot beside you. the proximity of her body felt warm in the crisp morning of the room.

she was insistent, expression fierce and strong. “i will not give you over to him for money. ”

your eyes snapped to hers, and her hand slid over the floor into the space between you.

desperate, you searched for the right words but couldn’t find them. “thank you.”

you took up her hand, and she squeezed yours with a strength that shocked you for her thin, petite frame.

“i will help you,” she insisted, and a curl of despair wrung your chest.

“you cannot help me, miss,” you said weakly, truthfully, “i need to wait for Ghost.”

she made a noise of deep frustration. “you do not.”

you closed your eyes, nose buried into your knees. “i have to.”

you felt her draw your hand into her lap, holding onto it with a powerful grasp. “he will not return. i prayed many nights for him to return too. but still, i will wait with you.”

the certainty in her tone felt soul crushing, and a truth from her own experience, but the tightness of her grip was an anchor that held you through the nauseating, racks of unease that pulled you like a tide. 

you waited for the sun to peek up through the far windows of the room, overlooking a dip in the city that revealed a stretch of chinatown twinkling in the early, blue hours with loud ruckus, shouts, and clatters.

when the first bruised pinks and purples stretched the morning sky, and beams of orange had cast over your body, your head perking up as you squinting into its glare from over your knees, Ghost had still not come.

you moved through the city like a ghost—like nothing was anchoring you down to the ground except for the girl’s iron grip on your hand. she had almost never let go of you when you roused from your light slumber, letting her drag you from the room, pocketing Ghost’s money and his revolver.

you left behind your shattered heart in that room. you felt like you died in that room.

the girl had forced you into one of her few western-style, yet airy, dresses that still felt too revealing from the wardrobe of her small room in the upper floors of the brothel. but nobody stared at you as she pulled you down another avenue through chinatown, considerably cleaner and better groomed than the ones you had been on before.

you did not know where you were going—you weren’t sure if you cared. the girl had only said with a determined ferocity, i will help you, when Ghost had not come.

Ghost had not come.

it was like a splintering realization every moment.

she hauled you into the back of a busy shop, barely squeezing through the small frame of the door, opening it to a whirlwind of more women shouting in mandarin and bent over desks strewn with cloths, silks, garments, and clunky sewing machines that packed in the room. that same sweet smoke tinged the room and you resisted pinching your nose against the searing smell.

an older woman with grayed hair and a wrinkled face like a plum stepped into the girl’s path, shouting something at her, though not unkindly, to which the girl shouted back. the old woman stepped back with a nod, and you curled closer to the girl as many of the women in the room turned from their stations to stare as you passed before busying themselves once more.

the girl took you into the front store room, marginally more quiet than in the back, and adorned with a plush red carpet and racks of colorful clothing where some wealthy women perused. 

then, she pulled you towards a raised platform in the corner of the room, where a red curtain hung by it and pushed you onto it. you stepped up, feeling uncomfortably light without her hand around yours, and she tugged the curtain around the platform without a word and a stricken face, shrouding the rest of the room from view.

you stood there for a moment, clutching against the wall and listening to the faint screeches of hangers dragging across their racks, light footsteps, and the bustle of the city from outside the store.

you jolted when she yanked open the curtain and quickly jerked it close behind her once more.

her face looked more serious than before—face screwed up in a tight expression and deep frown. you bit back a gasp when her arms flew to your shoulders and tugged her towards her, almost falling off the platform.

“listen to me,” she grit out with a clenched jaw, and you nodded quickly. “i cannot help you for long. tell me, what do you want?”

what do you want?

the question ran bated circles around your mind.

in a panic, you choked out, “i don’t know.”

she looked disappointed, but her grip on your shoulders only tightened, and you winced from the painful pulse in your injured joints. “you need to decide. now.”

she pressed something hard and cool into your hand and you looked down at the revolver in your open palm. the steel of it was engraved with trumpet vines.

you were reminded of several nights ago—when Ghost had first asked you the question.

“what do you want?” his hand moved to stroke at your cheek, your brow, your hair.

you never had the luxury of pondering the question. your path was always laid out before you by your mama and daddy. there was no choice. only lingering, bitter feelings of resentment as you fought yourself to believe that tending Daddy’s saloon and entertaining businessmen was the life you wanted.

“i dont know.”

“tell me.”

you had said you wanted him. now, you weren’t sure.

what did you want?

you looked into the dark swirl of the girl’s intense gaze, the inky hair that went down her shoulders in unfurling waves. did you want independence like her?

instead you asked, “why are you helping me?”

her face flitted with a tenseness but she held fast, unmoving and unshaken.

you pressed on, “what about the money? don’t you want the ransom?”

you felt eerily calm despite what you were alluding towards—her selling away your last flickers of freedom.

she shook her head. “i will not use you like my father used me.”

you stared at her. maybe, for the first time in your life, you’d met someone who didn’t want to use you for an advantage. maybe this girl was lying and would lead you straight into your daddy’s embrace again, and once your daddy smoothed everything out with Turner, you’d be in Turner’s bed every other night, satiating an old man with the warmth of your youthful touch.

or maybe, she was telling the truth.

“i don’t believe you,” you said, voice soft, and her grip slackened.

“you have to. tell me what you want.” she reached into the neckline of her shirt, and pulled something from her undergarments, revealing the drawstring pouch of the money Ghost left you.

she pushed it into your hand with the gun and closed your fingers around the heaviness of it, the clink of coins and rustles of paper feeling too loud in your ears, your mind swirling with effort.

you mulled over everything for the past week—only just seven days total. when you had met Ghost, one-four-one, their outlawed antics, los vaqueros. Kate’s expression when she left you at your train door, when you had challenged her about the truth of their revenge ploy, when you had escaped on horseback from the leather crafts shop. 

the fullness of her eyes. the sadness of them.

you thought of john when he had an arm circled around your waist as he galloped on that chestnut through the small town, saving your life, and the blinding rush when you turned over your shoulder and shot that man gunning for John. you saved his life in return.

you thought of Soap’s kindness in the hallway of the train, the thick swell of his accent, the delight that bloomed across his face whenever he saw you. the vicious sober look that twisted his smile when he promised to get revenge on Turner.

you thought of Gaz and his proposal, the origin of his poor childhood that he had disclosed in hushed murmurs, and the warmth of his polite touch grasping your hand and pressing it to his chest. the youthful earnest in his face.

you thought of your daddy and your mama—preparing you for a life that you had never chosen. Turner’s mistress.

you didn’t know who to hate more.

you thought of Ghost.

maybe you should hate him.

your skin prickled in remembrance of his soft, warm lips, and gentle touch, the way he held you, his even softer words, his empty promises. the perfect lies he created with a smug look and twinkle in his dark eyes, more charming than his infamous reputation led you to believe.

more charming, terrifying, mysterious, and guarded than you had ever seen in a man.

he lied to you time and time again. you closed your eyes against the weight that dragged your entire body down—so heavy it was like it never wanted you to stand properly again.

the girl’s tight grip steadied you.

“i want to be wanted,” you said weakly, eyes fluttering open again to see the grim look on her face.

her jaw was clenched tight. “i did too. but that is not an option.”

your whole heart shattered all over again.

“i want…” you mind spiraled, “i want revenge.”

the smile that twitched into her lips was malicious.

“against who?”

you felt like you were floating. “Turner.”

your voice darkened. “my daddy.”

she nodded, a pleasant look on her face now. “good. i will help you.”

before she stepped away and off the platform, you shoved the pouch of money back into her arms.

when she shook her head to refuse, you pressed, tone cutting and vicious, “take it. or take me as a ransom so help me god.”

when she realized you would refuse to let her go uncompensated, either from the harsh tone of your voice, your words, or the twisted tightness in your face, she relented, and disappeared from the changing room again.

you steadied your breath, looking into the full-length mirror hung on the wall.

you didn’t look like the girl you were a week ago.

you were different now—sinful, vengeant, a murderer.

you thought that it suited you better.

the girl came back and took you to a different area of the store: through the compact kitchen, where she fed you something greasy, savory, and foreign that you consumed in mere bites, then you swallowed down a steaming cup of tea, and she helped wash in a tub.

rubbing and lathing up soap through your hair as you scrubbed down your body. she was unashamed of your bare state, and the newfound rush that boiled in your veins left you uncaring for it.

after you dried off, she took you to the upper floors of the store to a bedroom—the old woman’s, you recognized later on, when the elder woman brought in several elaborate dresses with a wry smile on her face. the bedroom smelled herbal and picante, you noticed, as you were stripped of your clothes again and redressed in the undergarments the girl lent you.

the old woman said something to you—pleasant with a bellow of laughter—before she trudged out the room with heavy steps.

when you looked at the girl in confusion, the only thing she offered was, “she was very happy the day her husband died. she hopes you can find that same happiness.”

whether it was an ominous omen, or a cruel joke, you couldn’t shake it as she laid out a pale evening gown of silk with patterned lilac flowers up the front. your breath hitched as you smoothed a hand over it, the beads adorning its hems, and the lace gathered along its short puff sleeves.

“i think it would suit you,” the girl said, face lax and fond as she picked it up from the bed and pressed it into your hands.

“how could i accept this?” you asked weakly, and she held up the drawstring pouch, jingling its contents lightly in your face, though not unkindly.

“i know my worth,” the girl said with a deadpanned simplicity that made you smile at the sheer absurdity of it all. 

she helped you slide on the dress, over your corset and drawers, and sat you down at the chipped vanity by the windows where the natural light of mid-day came streaming through that aided you as she drew up your hair into a loose updo. 

you used the powder, eyeshadow, and rogue on the vanity and painted your lips with a careful hand. the girl’s hand came to rest on your exposed nape, and you shivered, not used to the exposed air along your bare arms, neck, and chest due to the low bust of the dress.

the girl placed the revolver on the vanity beside you and you pocketed it through the slit-opening between the layer of your petticoat and dress.

you looked into the mirror of the vanity and the girl’s reflection stared back, expression placid and cool, easing your own nerves.

she said with confidence, “you look lovely.”

you winced at the word, grateful that it went unnoticed to her.

she continued, “tonight, when you reach Turner’s party, there will be violence and bloodshed.”

she slid a box of matches onto the vanity. “wreak havoc. he has run these streets for far too long.”

you pocketed the box with a nod, the box knocking against your revolver, watching her head tilt in the mirror.

“maybe one-four-one will run these streets in time.” a smile flashed across her face before it was gone. “i think things would become better.”

you reached back to grasp at her hand on your neck. “i will make sure you are better compensated when it happens.”

she blinked, eyes flickering with a curiosity. “you will work with one-four-one even after all they have done to you?”

with a sigh, you nodded. “they are all i know. i care too much for them.”

“and Ghost?”

you released her hand, looked away from the mirror, and trained your eyes on the bustling street through the window. “him included.”

you heard her shift behind you. “i cared for him once too. i hope it ends happier for you than it did for me. maybe in marriage.”

you grimaced. “you think i should marry him?”

she was silent for so long that you looked back at her from over your shoulder. she sat with an impeccable posture and a sad tightness in her expression.

“he has used you. he has hurt you. maybe he did not come this dawn to protect you. from Turner and from himself. although he has failed time and time again, maybe his intentions are with a good heart.”

good heart. you didn’t know if you could use those words to describe him.

“albeit, he did not know i would betray him like this. i stole his lover away,” she said with a mischievous look and an air of accomplishment that made you smile.

“are you not worried that one-four-one will punish you for it?”

she only shrugged. “what will they do to me? with this money—” she held up the drawstring, “—i will run away and buy property to live off myself. or i will marry a rich, powerful old man and wait until he dies like the old woman did.”

you laughed at that, remembering the pleasant look on the old woman’s face as she left the bedroom, full of delight and fondness at the memory of her own husband’s death. maybe, you could imagine yourself running a successful clothing boutique like this.

the image soured. you realized you could much better imagine the girl maintaining her own business rather than you.

you could better imagine yourself married with children—their blonde heads bobbing and dark brown eyes twinkling with delight. your chest deflated with a heavy weight.

she pulled you from your thoughts, a new stoicism to her face. “whatever you do with Simon, make sure you use him twice as much as he used you.”

you flinched at the proposition, but her resolve was like steel. you knew she meant it from the way she pinned up the last of your hair with steadied hands and a wall of iron over her elegant features.

for the rest of the afternoon, you stayed up in that bedroom, exchanging stories of your girlhoods. how you grew up in a small town embedded in the dusty, desert west, manning saloon bars and entertaining your daddy’s business partners. the girl told you about her childhood in china, the impoverished peoples in her town, and the ships that came to the nearby big city port that offered families sell off their young girls for services in america.

you had never been impoverished and you had never gone hungry. you listened with horror to the way she described the malnutrition in her town—the way her ribs hung over her sunken stomach, and the cavernous hunger that felt like shooting pains all over her body.

you were surprised when she was so stricken by the way you described the neglectful nature of your daddy and mama that you used to see as a different avenue of affection unique to your own family. she described her tight-knit relationship to her mother, how there was no veil of secrecy between them, only a flow of transparency unlike her and her father.

then, she described her first years in america. how she was starving more than ever with almost no pay, manipulating the managers of each brothel to transfer her, running from establishment to establishment until she found the wealthy brothel chain associated with one-four-one where she met Ghost.

she described him when he was younger—“bearing a quiet, devouring hunger for power,” she had said with such simplicity it almost made you grimace. he was brash and rash fighting the law until he bribed them out of it, she explained, growing his influence through the west through bigger investments and bigger bribes.

she admitted that in her naivety, she had seen his indifference to her as a kindness, and fell in love. she waited earnestly for months until his next return when he would give her a large sum and she would spill all her secrets of illegal business syndicates reinforced by politics within the largest western hub for organized crime—san francisco.

they would mule over long nights together, piecing together motives, crimes, big players, moving pieces, in a never-ending chess game of control over the western frontier between gangs. he had trusted her all with it.

“and i never betrayed him till now,” she reminded you with a wink. “i wonder what he would do if he knew i was leading his little lamb right into the lion’s den…”

you didn’t want to know the dark thoughts that churned in her head as you watched her ponder in silence, a hand to her chin.

soon, she was drawing a shawl over your shoulders and leading you down the steps of the shop, passing through that crowded room where the seamstresses worked, shouted, and trained their attention to you with a curiosity for mere moments before they looked down at the fabrics between their hands again.

you only saw a flash of the old woman’s dark smile, an impish look in her eyes, before she was turning away and disappearing into the fray.

the girl led you out of the shop and into the street where a horse and buggy waited with a coachman at its head. it was the manager of the brothel. he grinned at you, sinister and eerie, gold tooth flashing.

when you faltered, she explained easily, “i organized it for your arrival at the party. it needs to look convincing.”

she helped you up into the carriage and you slid into it, smoothing over your dress and tugging at the shawl to keep any of your exposed skin from showing in the light of the early evening. she handed you a pair of white gloves that you slipped on and then a pearl white mask with light purple feathers.

“you have done too much for me,” you said, feeling guilty as you peered down into her face, but she shook her head.

“i told you i would help you. i have. now, you owe a debt to me,” she said, voice low and laced with threat. you suppressed a shiver but nodded eagerly nonetheless.

“i thought i was saving you from one-four-one. then, i thought i was saving you from your father. mostly, i’m saving you from yourself,” she mused, and you felt stumped as you pat your knee with a softness.

“what do you mean?” you asked with a furrowed brow, jolting when she closed the door of the carriage in your face.

you heard the coachman hitch the horses with a shout, and the carriage began meandering slowly up the road. 

you hung out the window with a panicked alarm, but she only grinned at you.

“we are the same in many ways, sister!” she shouted over the clop of hooves and the wheels churning over stone as the carriage pulled away.

sister. you had never had one of those.

“what is your name?” you called, and she shouted back, “Yue-Yi!”

the big grin on your face made your cheeks ache as Yue-Yi waved, wishing you could say so much more as she grew smaller and smaller in the distance, a shorter figure joining her by the sidewalk to wave goodbye. when you squinted your eyes, you could make out the frizzy grayed hair of the old woman.

turning back into your seat in the carriage, you tied the mask onto your face and steeled your nerves, grasping the revolver and matches through the layers of your gown with a eerie calm that settled over you like a thick veil.

as you neared Turner’s estate, more carriages coalesced into a line, queuing up to its large, sprawling and trim lawn, adorned with hedges and fountains that twinkled in the low light of the evening.

you craned your neck out the carriage window to get a glimpse of the sheer architecture of the residency—massive and victorian, with pointed roofs and limestone carvings. you had always thought your home was impressive in your small town but this mansion dwarfed it.

the carriage lurched to a stop, horses whinnying with a stomp. you waited with bated breath in front of the great, arched entrance of the place, listening to the coachman walk over to the door of the carriage and open it, offering a polite hand.

you took it, ignoring his gold-toothed smile and tossed your shawl back into the carriage quite rudely. with the new exposure of your skin, and the growth of his grin, you jerked your hand back from his and gave him a rushed thanks.

but before you made your way up the steps to the elegant entrance, lined with guardsmen in black three-piece suits and fashionable bowler hats, where more guests lingered for admission in fancy attire, you turned back to the manager of the brothel, puffing up your chest with a new confidence.

“you,” you snapped. his brows rose in reply, sly smirk only growing more, much to your discontent.

“yes?” he said, stepping forward. you stepped back.

“Yue-Yi is one of your best workers, no?”

his mouth open and closed before nodding, that greasy smile never leaving his lips.

“you should increase her pay,” you said, impressed by the cool indifference of your own manner.

turning on your heel, you spoke over your shoulder, “or else she might find better avenues of self-employment.”

he paled slightly at that, smirk dropping from his face, and you smiled sweetly, making your way up the steps before remembering yourself. you turned back to him and his pale, stiff disposition before curtsying with the most properness your mother had ever taught you, then continued your ascent to the doors.

you didn’t look back to see if he still lingered with that dumb, pale look on his face. the very thought made you grin bigger.

the line slowly trickled through the entrance as the guardsmen checked names off a list. a new nervous fervor built in you. looking around the lines, and at women and men who lingered together in their own parties, you sidled closer to a loud, unsuspecting woman and her two other female friends, all donned in light yellows and dark magentas and fanning themselves.

when you were just steps from the entrance, the women gave the guards their names, and you craned your neck to see the interior of the residency. lavish, loud, overly decorated in golds and marbles. nothing you would expect less from the old, obnoxious Turner.

“good evening, miss,” one guardsman said, and you jolted from your thoughts, eyes snapping to his. he tilted his head. “your name?”

“i…” you felt stupid, mouth opening and closing, not sure of what to do when—

you crept closer to him, hoping it went unnoticed to the distracted parties around you, and his brows rose slightly, a strange look crossing his face.

you snuck a gloved hand onto his arm, his gaze lingered at your touch, to the exposed skin of your low-cut dress, neck, then your eyes. you cocked your head, sliding your hand up his arm.

“mary smith,” you lied with an ease, and he nodded dumbly, looking through the list. you knew that he wouldn’t find that name and he knew it too.

he cleared his throat, shifting under your touch. “no chaperone, miss?”

you wanted to curse yourself. you had become so accustomed to running off through the west without a chaperone that you had completely forgotten an unmarried, young lady needed one at all.

“maybe you could suffice, sir,” you whispered with a light giggle, and watched with amazement as a slow pink flush crept up into his ears and cheeks.

he cleared his throat again, gesturing to the entrance and avoiding your eyes, “i’m sure our boss wouldn’t mind one extra, lovely young lady.”

you smiled at that, sliding your hand very lightly across his chest as you glided past him, biting back a snort at the way he stiffened under your touch.

crossing the threshold, you stepped into the grand entrance hallway filled with people and you almost melted with relief. making an effort to get lost in the crowd, you snaked in between bodies and conversing groups, their faces adorned with feathered masks and glasses of wine between their gloved fingers.

gliding through the rooms of the residency, you wondered how you would ever find your daddy or Turner in this mess. you stiffened at the thought of crossing paths with one-four-one by mistake.

wringing your hands nervously as your head whipped around between the loud, noisy surroundings, you realized for the first time how utterly alone you were in this mansion.

hundreds of people may have been stuffed into the place, but you were the sole person on this mission, and whether one-four-one had shown up to this party or not, you were the sole person who knew your own plans to kill the party host and turn tail.

with his death, hopefully, you could carve a good chunk of your daddy’s money out of his business. you quieted any alarming thoughts about your mama.

a large drone of partygoers began moving slowly towards the opposite side of the room, and you followed the crowd into the main family room that dwarfed the houses of your small town. looking up into the curve of the ceiling adorned with paintings, a large chandelier hung down into the cavernous room littered with tables of food and colorful banisters. 

at the head of the room, near a fireplace, a man stood in a crisp black suit and bow-tie with a curling black mustache and greased black hair flecked with grays on a platform. Turner.

you hadn’t seen his beady, blue eyes and grim, twisted face since dinner with him, your daddy, and mama since months ago along with that haughty wife of his, who stood proud and arrogant by his shoulder.

your mouth soured at the sight of them and you felt around the skirt of your dress, feeling the handle of your gun through the layers.

if you shot him now, could you run away in time? and if they caught you, what would happen?

Turner took a glass cup and clinked a spoon against it, grabbing the room’s attention as it diminished into a silence.

you grasped the gun tighter between your hands.

“thank you for coming,” he said, low, rumbly voice ringing out over the crowd. “we are here today—” he reached back and you watched with amazement as a little girl stepped up onto the platform, grasping onto his hand with a shy, meek look, “—to celebrate my daughter’s birthday.”

your stomach curled at his words, grip going slack against your dress.

if you had shot him right there and then, in the midst of this swarming crowd, maybe you could’ve slipped away easily in the scrambling panic of the crowd. but he would’ve dropped dead, blood oozing from his in a dark puddle, right in front of his own daughter.

the thought made you feel nauseous.

the tall, broad frame that creeped up beside you startled you with a jolt, and you looked up to find an incredibly tall and massive body of a ginger man with a black mask tied around his face. he had his hands behind his back, looking lax with an arrogant smirk on his face. he peered down at you from his shoulder.

“hello there,” he said quietly, under the words that Turner continued to bellow to the crowd. his accent was foreign. maybe german.

“this is an interesting party, no? with masks and such,” he gestured to the crowd, and you struggled to find words. 

“i guess,” you croaked, voice scratchy and thick. his smirk only widened.

“what are you doing in this big crowd without a chaperone, little lady?”

you wanted to shrink away from him at that moment, feeling awkward and exposed under the burn of his gaze.

“i have business to conduct.”

he laughed loud and throaty, earning a few hostile glances from the people around you, and you winced, trying to step away and disappear into the crowd but his big hand came to rest on your shoulder and you went impossibly stiff. 

“i do, too, little lady.” 

he bent down closer to your ear and you shivered. “how do you know, Turner?”

your mouth opened and closed.

“family connections.”

his eyes widened beneath the mask—the color an exotic pale green that you had never seen before.

“really?” he shifted closer to you and you tugged at his grip on your shoulder, trying to move away but the strength of his massive body easily overpowered your own.

“can i tell you a secret, little lady?”

you shook your head with a strong, “no,” but he continued you anyways.

“i know you have a gun in that pocket.”

you went impossibly rigid, breath catching in your throat and he chuckled lowly in your ear.

“i don’t know who’s paying you, but they’re incredibly clever, hiring an innocent-looking little lady like you. you almost fooled me.”

you grit out through a clenched jaw, “and just who are you, sir?”

he released you with an, “ah, my apologies, i need to remember my manners.”

you turned to him, craning your head up to look up into his face, shoulders set with frustration at the prospect of somehow being… caught.

he sighed out, sounding disappointed. “you should know me if you’re in this sort of line of work, but i guess i’ll tell you my name.”

then, he gave you a lop-sided smile. “i’m Konig.”

you blinked at him. “okay.”

the smile slid off his lips. “okay? haven’t you heard of me?”

there was a bitter taste in your mouth as you shook your head slowly, and his face crunched into deeper disappointment. you almost regretted giving him the reply that you did, and you would have, if he didn’t start going on a tangent about himself.

“you should know me,” he insisted, putting a hand to his chest, “i’m Konig. i’m very famous in this line of work. i work under kortac.”

your brows pinched together, neck beginning to ache just from looking up at him.

he only sighed again. “i guess americans don’t know kortac. no matter. i’ll just have to kill you before eliminating Turner.”

at that, you jolted, beginning to scramble backwards as he reached out to you once more.

“wait—!” you shrieked, crashing into a trio of ladies that shrieked on impact, flailing as you turned to flee from the large man, but a loud, splintering shatter echoed through the entire room and the lights flickered overhead.

everything stilled and you stopped in your tracks. you looked up into the ceiling, at the chandelier overhead, stomach dropping when you saw the thing sway, then with more ear-rupturing splinters, in almost a slow-motion, began to crash down to the floor where you stood.

the entire room flooded with screams and shouts as the crowd scrambled out of the room. bodies pushed against yours and you almost fell to your knees, screeching when a hand hoisted you up and pushed you forward toward a narrow hallway stemming from the room.

a harsh german accent was in your ear, “fick mich—move, move, american!”

you did, as fast as you could, through the snaking crowd, and you clutched at your ears with a scream when gunshots rang through the room.

and when you turned to look over your shoulder, you saw a familiar broad body, clad in all black with a black mask, a tussle of dirty blonde hair shaved down on the sides of his head and pieces that hung down his forehead, and a silver scar on his upper lip with a revolver raised and aimed at Turner.

you couldn’t turn and go back with Konig’s massive body blocking your path and urging you forward. picking up the hem of your dress, you pushed through the squirming crowd and into the narrow hallway.

a resounding crash shook the entire mansion, and you almost fell to the ground again from the vibrations of it, but Konig picked you back up and pushed you behind a curtained area in the nook of the hallway.

when you were obscured from the rest of partygoers rushing through the mansion, Konig turned to you and put a hand around your throat, squeezing tight, and the other hand shoving a revolver right beneath your chin.

you clawed at his grip on your throat, glaring into the emptiness of his green eyes. with the last of your strength, you spit on his face, and he drew back his hand around your throat to wipe it away with a look of disgust. you scrambled away from him, gulping in breaths of air, but he only reached out and pulled you back with a tight grip around your arm.

you whipped your head back at him, trying to kick at him, but he pressed you to the wall with ease and a curiously amused look.

“you are not very good at this, little lady,” he admitted, and that only pissed you off.

with all your strength, you stomped as hard as you could on his foot, and he hissed out, reeling back but not easing his grip on you at all.

“i don’t even know what you’re talking about!” you shrieked, wriggling, and his brow furrowed.

“no? were you not hired to kill Turner?”

“no!” you almost screamed between desperation and frustration, and he released you. with a gasp you crashed to the floor.

“really?” he asked, helping you up with a tight grip that sent another flurrying panic through you, and you squirmed out of his touch. this time, he let you.

“yes,” you said, exasperated, fixing the dishevelment of your dress, and Konig stared at you, revolver laying limp by his side.

“oh,” he said, quietly, and you just glared at him, sending him a strange look when he began to fumble with his hands. now, he wouldn’t look at you, strangely awkward and apprehensive.

“sorry,” he mumbled, and you huffed, taking the moment to pull out your own revolver and dig it into his stomach.

he barely responded—just giving you that same distant, awkward look.

“you’re right,” you hissed, cocking the gun, and his brows only raised slightly as you continued, “i wasn’t hired to kill Turner. i’m doing this on my own accord.”

that seemed to pique his interest because he tilted his head, shoving his revolver into the breast pocket of his coat. “oh? pray tell, american?”

you rolled your eyes. “it’s none of your business, sir.”

you drew back the curtain and stomped into the hallway, looking around and unsettled by the eerie quietness of the place. most of the partygoers had emptied the mansion already, only distant gunshots and shouts and crashes of noise vibration through the place.

when you saw Turner’s men barrel past a couple corridors away, you rushed backwards with a squeak and almost screamed when you crashed into Konig’s big chest.

he looked down at you with a blank look and a steadying hand on your hip that you immediately swatted away. instead, you hurried down a corridor in the opposite direction of where Turner’s men had been headed, and felt an increasing annoyance when Konig started following you.

you turned to snap over your shoulder, “go away.”

the quiet thuds of his footsteps faltered and then picked up again and you huffed with annoyance.

turning fully to him with crossed arms and your revolver still in hand, he stopped a marginal distance from you with a hurt look on his face.

“what?” you asked, and his frown only deepened.

“let’s make an agreement, little lady.”

“why should i do that?” you asked honestly. “you’re a criminal and an assassin.”

the blank look he gave you only pulled you into self-reflection. technically, you were also a criminal, and mere steps away from a self-employed assassin.

“you want to kill Turner,” he said, and you jolted when more gunshots only got louder, maybe mere hallways away, but he continued without so much as a blink, “and i want to kill Turner for money. let’s make an agreement—i will let you kill him if you let me lie to my superiors and say that it was in fact i who killed him. otherwise, i will have to kill you for getting in my way.”

your stomach curdled at the easy way he said it.

when a smug smirk twisted his face, you winced at the sinister nature of it. “besides, you need me. i am very good at my job, no? my name is Konig for a reason.”

you mulled over his offer. what he proposed was reasonable and made perfect sense. although you didn’t know what Konig meant, you assumed he earned the name for a respectable talent in his profession. killing people.

but could you trust him?

you looked over the relaxed nature of his body, smug and arrogant and cocksure you would take up his agreement. you could trust him just as much as the devilish outlaw who earned his name for murdering without a trace—Ghost.

“alright, Konig,” you said bitterly, “let’s see how much you can offer me.”

his smirk only grew. “i can offer you a lot of things, little lady,” he sang, that arrogant look on his face only inflating as he turned on his heel and headed directly towards the gunshots.

faltering, you fell close in step behind his massive body and felt a panic when the gunshots and shouts sounded closer. he sent you a smug look and turned sharply into a different hallway, your head on a swivel for stray people as he led you into an immense library.

“why are we here?” you asked, turning in a circle to take in the multiple levels of the place. 

he didn’t answer you, only walking up to a case of books on the far edge of a book-filled wall, and reached far back into its shelves where he searched around for something with a face of concentration. you watched with unease, looking over so often at the entrance of the library with your revolver in hand.

something clicked in the wall. your eyes widened in amazement as Konig stepped back and the bookcase shifted with a squeaking grown, slowly pulling pack and screeching to the side. behind it was a narrow, dim stone corridor lit with electric bulbs.

“see?” Konig offered, hand reaching out to you, “i can offer you much more than murder, little lady.”

rolling your eyes, you took his hand and scurried down the corridor quickly for fear of the vulnerable exposure in the immense library. Konig led you down the path blanketed with a thin layer of water, the corridor dripping water overhead, and a musk, dank smell in the air. his big back was the only thing you could see in the dim lighting of the narrow hallway.

you tried to quell any lingering thoughts of anxiety coursing through you—what if Konig had taken you down here to kill you?

what if he was actually one of Turner’s men posing as a hired assassin?

that almost stopped you in your tracks, and when he sent you a confused look from over your shoulder, filled with nothing but focus on the task ahead, you scurried forward again, closer to him than you had been before.

through the never-ending winding corridors, Konig seemed to maneuver them with an eerie precision and ease, sometimes stopping to observe the halls with a sweeping glance, and then continuing ahead without so much as a word.

soon, the winding path tracked into a sharp incline until you reached a dead-end. Konig searched over the surface of the stone wall with his gloved hands and pressed around till there was a soft click and the thing stuttered open with a groan.

he gave you another victorious smirk and helped you through the entrance with a polite hand that you took begrudgingly. you entered into a bedroom this time—one that looked untouched and picked clean.

probably a guest bedroom, you realized, then jumped forward with a start when the entrance of the corroder began sliding shut behind you. it was a bookcase like before, and you watched in awe as it dragged shut backwards into its nook, settling with a cloud of dust.

Konig waved at it with a cough and strode forward to open the bedroom door and into the hallway. you followed him quickly.

peering down the empty and deadly silent hallway, you spotted a carved wood banister of a staircase at the end of it and realized that you must’ve been on an upper floor now.

“we are near Turner’s bedroom now,” Konig said, and you cocked a brow at him.

“how do you know all of this?” you pressed, and he shrugged.

“i memorized the blueprint.”

you resisted rolling your eyes, and instead with a tinge of sarcasm said, “impressive.”

he puffed up with pride and a strong nod. “i know.”

you allowed yourself to roll your eyes.

creeping along the hallway, Konig neared a grand set of carved double doors and gold handles that no doubt looked to be the primary bedroom.

“how do you know Turner will be here?” you whispered, a sudden creeping apprehension coming over you. your hands twisted around the gun to ease a heavy feeling in your chest.

this felt rushed and not right at all.

you hadn’t even prepared yourself.

you swallowed hard. how were you going to kill this man when you knew him better than the others you had killed? more than Charles and his associate and Turner’s lackey who had chased you and John down on horseback? 

“i don’t,” Konig said, placing a gloved hand on the handle, sending you a smirk, “just a good guess.”

he began to turn the gilded handle of the door when a loud gunshot ricocheted through the hallway, shattering a vase by your side as a bullet whizzed past your shoulder.

with a shriek, you scrambled back against the wall, seeing a dozen of Turner’s men rushing down the long, long corridor of the hallway, and suddenly the bedroom doors were kicked open, three guardsmen bursting through.

Konig was quick to move, shooting one in the face and the other in his leg, taking the third beneath his arm and crushing his neck in a quick jerk that had him falling limp to the carpet.

the man with the shot leg screamed in pain, clutching at his own leg and hobbling near you with a scrunched expression. you bit back any feeling of sympathy and wound up your good arm, punching him straight in the face.

he fell to the ground with a thud and Konig gave you an approving, crazy laugh, reloading his revolver and shot down the hall—two men fell in his wake.

“go,” he urged, jerking his head in the direction of Turner’s room, and its doors that were swung wide open, “i will take care of these men, little lady, you just remember our agreement!”

“wait—” you called with an outstretched arm, a gripping uncertainty wracking you, but Konig was already gone.

at the conjoinment of another hallway, more of Turner’s men poured into the vicinity, and you heard Konig curse loudly as he rushed forward, before a new slew of people flooded into the opposite side of the hallway.

you recognized a broad, blonde male as Ghost and another smaller blonde form as Kate, Soap, John, and Gaz somewhere in the fray, and with Alejandro and Rudolfo and los vaqueros added to it, it looked like the real war Ghost had promised you days ago.

is this why he had left you at that brothel this morning? because a full-drawn out war would happen right here in Turner’s mansion? knowing you would refuse to stay away from the bloodshed if he hadn’t lied to you last night?

even now, with all his lies, you had refused to stay away anyways.

you clutched at your own chest, trying not to sink down into the floor and stay there forever, and pushed yourself from the carpet, heaving yourself up onto the handle of the doors and slamming both shut behind you quickly.

with heavy, panicked breaths that forced through your choked up throat, you fought back any tears that brimmed in your eyes as you pressed your forehead to the cool surface. you felt lightheaded and eerily light. you wanted Yue-Yi’s tight grip on you to ground you again. or Ghost’s arms to wind around you. or even the mean pinch of your mama’s fingers on your skin.

tears fell down your cheeks.

Ghost—would he be okay? alive? 

even Konig, who you had just met, who had been so willing to help you, for no good reason, mirroring the way he seemed to work without much reasoning at all, had you doubled over with nauseating worry.

the soft click of a gun behind you had you stiffening.

slowly, you turned from the door, grip tight on your own revolver that you hid from sight behind the wide berth of the skirt of your evening gown.

you were met with the sight of Turner, standing poised and indigent, revolver trained on you. you didn’t miss the shake in his hands.

he looked so much less pronounced in person. graying and old and aging and just as wrinkly as you remembered him to be, but less sinister than your mind painted him. average and normal and face stricken with the same sort of roiling panic you were feeling in the moment. you took him in with a new ease.

despite being the west’s biggest gang leader, he seemed diminished in such a close proximity.

“you,” he hissed, lip curled with disgust, “i thought you were dead.”

you swallowed hard, tight throat and unable to produce a single sound.

behind him, you saw his wife cowering in the corner with his small daughter trembling in her embrace.

you narrowed your eyes at them and Turner stepped forward sharply in threat.

you found your voice, steady and strong, “where are my daddy and mama?”

he scoffed, looking away from you briefly before brandishing the revolver around at you. it only reminded yourself of when you had been scared and inexperienced with a weapon.

“afraid i killed them?” he asked with a sinister smile, and a roil of annoyance wrung through you.

you trained your gun on his wife and daughter who shrieked, the little girl shaking with sniveling cries. Turner stiffened.

“you wouldn’t,” he said, voice low and rumbling with a ferocity, and you just nodded.

“i wouldn’t, so i’ll let them leave before i kill you.”

his eyes flashed, lips twisted into a menacing scowl.

“fine.”

his wife and daughter skirted out the room, crumpled down and low to the floor as they scurried past you out the double doors of the room. as soon as you shut the entrance behind them with a shaky exhale, tuning back to Turner, he lurched towards you with a strangled shout.

you reeled back, back slamming against the doors as he swung for you, and you ducked, scrambling over the floor with a shriek. he grabbed a fistful of your dress and pulled you back towards him across the carpet, wrestling you down to the ground, and you punched and shoved at his face, rolling across the carpet and trying to squirm out of his tight grip. his hands found your neck and crushed down on your throat with a strength that pushed all the air from your lungs.

you jerked up your knee, hitting him straight in a sore spot that had him hissing and grip going slack, just enough to shove him off you with as much strength as you could muster, and he skidded away, landing against the floor with a thud.

you gasped for breath, light-headed but vision sharper than ever as you raised the revolver, just before Turner was reaching for something across the carpet—a small white box.

your eyes widened. you recognized it as the one Yue-Yi had gifted you—wreak havoc, she had said, and you watched with a curl of panic as he struck a match and threw it to the edge of the room, a blooming fire bursting forth with a rush of shocking heat that had you crossing your arms over your face with a scream.

you scrambled back from the fire that consumed the room with a terrifying speed, revolver trained on Turner’s crumpled figure sprawled over the floor a marginal distance away.

he picked up his head and gave you a sinister look.

“your daddy and mama are dead.”

a strangled, animalistic sound clawed through your throat, and you screamed as a sob wracked you, aiming your revolver and shooting him right in the knee.

he screamed, shifting away from you, the pristine white carpet pooling with a new crimson puddle and singing at the edges with an ominous black.

you struggled to breath in the room, the air tinged with a thick smog and flickers of strewn ash that felt hot when they landed on your skin.

“i doused this entire mansion with gas,” he rasped, coughing through the smoke, “if you try to kill me, you’ll burn with me.”

he laughed, body shaking violently when more coughs wracked through him, blood splattering across the carpet and painting his lips with an unnatural red.

slowly, you made your way towards your knees with a great effort, your exposed skin flushed painfully from the heat of the surrounding fire, a portion of the canopy bed behind him crumbling, fire spreading across the carpet with hot, swelling licks.

you tried to scream but couldn’t through the tight swollen soreness of your throat, edging from its path as it skirted around you.

you forced words out, a searing raw pain in your throat, “why would you do this?”

all of it? you wanted to scream, why would he try to kill you? your daddy? your mama?

then, you coughed, hand pressed to your mouth as the motion shook you to your core, tears spilling down your cheeks to dispel the smoke, and his smile only grew. 

“i own you,” he whispered, barely audible over the loud crackle of the fire, curtains melting away from the windows as the carpet peeled up from the floorboards.

“i won’t let that bastard Simon Riley take you from me.”

you almost snarled at him, tempted to aim your revolver at his head and just put a whole round into his brain. but that felt rushed and not right at all.

you wanted him to suffer. painful and slow. the thought gave you a sliver of sanity.

you hissed out, “i won’t kill you.”

his eyes flashed, twitching against the carpet like he was going to tackle you again, but the stiffness in his bloody, soaked pant leg prevented him from moving.

you smiled—so wide that it cracked your dry lips.

“i’ll leave you to burn in hell,” you said, clambering to your feet, swaying in the open air, dizzy and nausea wringing through your head, because you just couldn’t really breathe, and Turner let out a strangled cry.

“you can’t leave!” he said, voice tinged with a ferocious desperation as he clawed forward suddenly, and the quick motion had you reeling backwards and tipping back to the world swung in front of your eyes.

you fell back down against the carpet, face narrowly missing a ring of fire, more furniture crumpled chunks of ash and blackened wood just beyond it.

“i own you,” he snarled, voice a throaty sinister rasp. his hand closed around your ankle and a new curling disgust bloomed from deep within your gut.

you looked down at him and thrust the tip of your revolver against his sweaty, red forehead. his eyes blew wide, bloody lips parting with a new fearful sort of shock that twisted your stomach in the most pleasant ways you didn’t know that you could feel.

“i choose who owns me,” you whispered, and you knew he heard you from the way his eyes just stretched further, and you blew straight clean through his forehead.

he fell completely limp against the carpet, lifeless and void of the crawling desperation you had just seen mere moments before.

more tears came pouring down your cheeks and you shoved your knee into the side of his face, biting back a scream when you saw the gaping, bloody gouge of flesh in his forehead and the cool, empty placidness of his blue eyes.

you killed him. his warm grip was still around your ankle.

scrambling back away from the dead body, you gasped when the exposed skin of your arm was enveloped with something unbearably hot, wet, and rippling in undulations.

pulling your arm away from the fire, you stared in horror at the new char of your skin and the way your silk gloves had half-melted into your arm with a goopy liquidity.

the scalding pain sharpened your senses, and you hauled yourself towards the double doors, raw skin flush to the carpet, and you strained up to the handles of the doors, fingers just wrapping around it when the door opened from beneath you.

you fell forward with your eyes screwed shut, trying to push yourself off the ground, and gentle hands hoisted you towards a broad, strong body low to the ground.

“princess, princess, princess—”

lips were against your ear and you immediately curled into his touch, eyes fluttering open to see his warmth and inviting just mere inches from your own.

face maskless and bare.

you had never felt so much relief.

“Simon?” you squeaked, voice meek and quiet and half as strong as you had forced it to be the whole day. you melted into him, muscles going lax with weakness.

he hissed when you leaned against him, and you pulled back slightly to take in the charred material of his suit stuck to an oozing wetness beneath it—sopping red with blood.

you choked on more sobs but he just shushed you, stroking a hand through your hair before pressing his face to your neck, then your hair.

“it’ll be alright, princess.”

you had never heard his voice so weak before. he leaned back against the ground, the walls still up in flames around him, and you watched his body fight to stay up before sliding slowly to the ground.

you pulled yourself forward, fighting back coughs as you laid next to him.

“you need to get up,” he rasped, pushing you away with a hand. the movement just made you hiss in desperate frustration.

“no. m’staying right here,” you said, curling closer to him, and he let you, face soft and relaxed as the entrance to Turner’s bedroom crumbled just beyond your feet.

you took in the curves of his bare face—the age and lines and scars that reflected only a shimmering honesty in the fragile moment.

with great effort you craned over him to kiss that silvery scar on his upper lip, and when you pulled back he only gave you a weak smile.

“you never listen to me,” he whispered, voice throaty and wrung through, and you could only smile back.

“never,” you agreed, intertwining your fingers with his.

“i was late this morning,” he rasped, nosing through your hair, “and when i arrived you were gone.

“i thought you finally came to your bloody senses and ran away—” he was cut off by a series of wracking coughs, and you pressed your forehead to your intertwined hands, shaking with sniveling tears.

“i thought you had abandoned me,” you whispered.

he kissed the crown of your head. “never.”

you melted into him.

he sounded stricken with anger. “i’ve lied to you.”

“i know,” you said, brushing a finger over the lightness of his lashes.

“you were supposed to run away,” he said weakly, “you were never supposed to stay. since the beginning, you were supposed to run away.”

“is that why you were late this morning?” you croaked, and he nodded against your hair.

“i was relieved when you were gone,” he said, “but i think it killed me.”

with drooping eyelids and a swirling smog clouding your senses, you distantly remembered how you felt that morning. like you had left behind your shattered heart in that brothel. like you had died in that room and you left behind your body and you were floating as a ghost through the san francisco streets. 

“leaving killed me,” you said softly, through rough coughs, and he only pulled you closer. 

“you weren’t supposed to be here, either,” he muttered, breaths shallow and weak in your ear.

you craned your neck to look up at him, taking in his face fully, and the droop of his tired eyes, before thumbing over the scars along his jaw.

“anything else to confess to me?” you asked, soft and he nodded.

“i lied to you.”

your brow pinched, another cough rippling from your throat. “i know that.”

he shook his head with a weakness that had your heart crumbling. “long time ago. that night on the train.”

the breath died in your throat and he pressed his forehead against yours, warm and solid.

“i said i bedded you for revenge. i lied.”

the floor fell away from beneath you and you felt like you were floating.

“why?” you croaked, and his smile was wistful.

“so full of questions.”

“always,” you said, pressing him further, but his eyes closed, breaths growing with a louder rasp now. a violent panic crawled up your chest and you nudged him, relieved when his eyes cracked open again.

“in time,” he whispered, and the strangled, frustrated sound that left your throat that only made his smile grow.

“i’m sorry i didn’t take you on that date,” he said, and you shook your head, the tip of your nose against his.

“i know why you didn’t,” you insisted, and he frowned.

“you’re supposed to be mad at me.”

you frowned back. “stop telling me what i’m supposed to be.”

at that, he only smirked, looking strangely satisfied as he stroked a thumb over the exposed, hot, raw skin of your neck.

you took a shaky deep breath, only swallowing down more smoke that had you coughing with a grimace. “just…”

his dark, swirling eyes that were so familiar now were dimmed but just as warm. you took your charred hand, ignoring the searing pain of it, and brushed it over his blonde hair. he closed his eyes at your gentle touch.

“please kiss me,” you whispered, and his eyes fluttered open, lurching forward with a stiff clumsiness at the awkward position, and suddenly his warm lips were pressed to your own.

you didn’t know what you were doing—just that the rhythmic movement of his soft flesh molding against yours had a honey warmth dripping through your chest and fluttering down your spine.

you tried to match him, flushing at the feeling of his every breath melding into your every exhale in a never-ending steady pulse. your hands snaked into his hair and gripped softly, and a low noise left his throat.

your head spun with the lack of oxygen, and more heavenly moments stretched on until he pulled back, licking over his lips like he had by the railway yesterday. like he was tasting you.

“not bad, princess,” he whispered, eyes fluttering close with a weakness. you pressed against him, unable to fight the droop of your own eyes anymore, a pleasant muffle filling your head, and a purpling black, splotchy glaze dancing from behind your eyelids.

the last thing you felt were his lips against your cheek, the sound of the fire consuming the splintering, crumbling house with loud crackles, distant shouts, and Simon’s soft breaths against your skin.

okay okay i know that this chapter doesn't have smut or much fun stuffff but i hope you liked konig's appearance LMFAO but i can confirm that next chapter there will be 1. the do 😵‍💫 like fr this time 😵‍💫 2. JEALOUS GHOST SDLFJSLEIFJ 3. and yea less angst pls and thank you

i love all of you. please have a wonderful weekend <3 next chapter will be uploaded tuesday (ON TIME TOO)!!

[idk6123]

The Perfect Student & The Delinquent (Mickey Milkovich X Male Reader)

Mickey never have been one for doing homework, or just doing anything school related at all. Some people call him stupid because of that, but he just doesn’t care. He knows how to make money and that is enough for him. He’s done with school, but school isn’t done with him. And this is school we’re talking about; they’re going to bother him about it by shoving the responsibility to someone else.

That’s when Y/N appears, one of the best students in the school. Mickey knew him. He’s a quiet kid. He didn’t find him annoying enough to beat him up, or rich enough to steal from. Thus, they never interact. However, that all starts one day, when the school hold Y/N responsible for getting Mickey’s grade up. Feeling screwed, he’s going to help Mickey without having much motivation.

“How the fuck should I suppose to know how algebra works!?”

“Maybe you know when you come to fucking class!”

“Maybe if you cut some class, you realize that’s the best way to not get your ass kicked!”

That’s when Y/N hold Mickey in a position that the punk can’t counterattack. Feeling his face against the floor, he looks at the side of eyes and look up to see Y/N, sitting on his body.

“You look like you want to fuck me.”

“Yeah, fuck you over if you don’t shut the fuck up and do your homework.”

To be honest, Mickey is quite surprised that Y/N isn’t the quiet kid he expected him to be. He thought the top student was some shy, timid guy that only wants to do homework, not a martial artist that has no time for bullshit.

“So, you want to lie down while I’m on top off you, or do you want to do something useful?”

Mickey scoffs. “Fine. Get your fat ass off me.”

“At least I got a nice ass.”

They sit down again at the couch and recontinue Mickey’s homework. As Y/N guides him, he notices how much Mickey is struggling with math, causing some frustration. Even after math, Mickey is struggling with almost every subject. English, chemistry, biology, you name it. Y/N bets the only class he can do is PE.

As Mickey continues to struggle on the task, Y/N can tell he’s going to burst out in anger anytime soon. “Let’s take a break.” Mickey looks back, staying quiet. “Got somethin’ to drink?”

“Beer is in the fridge.” Mickey answers. Y/N stands up and heads to the kitchen. “Grab one for me.”

Y/N does that, bringing back two beers. He hands one over to Mickey. After they pop off the caps, they both take a sip at the same time.

“Are you some masochist for doing this shit?”

“Nope. Just someone who hopes for a big job and get rich.” Y/N responds. “Get in a good college first though. You?”

“I just steal the money. We should stay in contact, just in case you get rich.”

Y/N chuckles. “Any chance you get any money from me if you’re either my husband or my sugar baby.”

“That’s a hard pass.”

For the rest of the day, after having their break, Y/N helped Mickey, tutoring him in about every subject. That being said, it doesn’t look bright.

-

It’s another day where Y/N helps Mickey. The straight A student made sure to reflect why Mickey isn’t doing well, not wanting to write it off with him just being dumb. Thus, after changing the homework just a bit, he manages to do something that may help Mickey.

“’In a week, your crew makes these many drug deals: 7, 5, 8, 6, 9, 4, 10. What's the median number of deals?’” This is the first question Mickey read, only thinking what happened to his homework. “What the hell is this?”

“I’m helping you. Now you can use math in your future business.” Y/N responds. “Now, try to figure it out.”

Mickey then looks back at the paper. For whatever reason, he appears he knows what he’s actually doing. He doesn’t look confused, instead he looks focused. “7 deals.”

“Right!” Y/N is happy Mickey finally got something right. “Now to the next.”

“’You got two weapons suppliers. One brings you 2x units and the other brings 3x units. If x is 5, how many total units you got?’” Mickey looks back at his tutor. “25 units.”

“Holy-” Y/N is surprised how well things are going. “Write down the solution.” Without any fuss, Mickey writes down the solution. Afterwards, he gives the paper back at Y/N. “Correct.”

Mickey smirks, grabbing the paper back. “And here people thought I was some dumbass.”

“Well, you proved them wrong.”

-

Now that every question is changed into a language into something Mickey comprehends, the speed of doing his homework changed from an entire day into 2 hours, with most of the time the questions correctly answered.

“’If you take a hit and your arm’s bleeding, which system in your body rushes to patch up the hole?’ The circulatory system.”

“’You got a new batch of goods, and you see the demand go up. If you usually move 50 units at $20 each, but now you can push 70 units at the same price, what’s the total revenue now?’ $1400.”

“If you're 'running' from the police, how do you say, 'we run' in Spanish?”

"Nosotros corremos"

Times passes quickly as Mickey completes his homework. After doing so, Y/N is wondering what kind of grade he gets. And it turns out he managed to get a…

“B+!”

Mickey looks surprised. “In total?”

“Yeah.” Y/N looks happy for his classmate. “You did great. Now you have to rely on regular questions, or you have to use your fantasy to turn it in something fun.”

“Do the second one.” Mickey answers. “To be honest, I’m surprised school can help me in my future.”

“The future full of crime.”

“Yep, and I give all the credit to you, not those assholes.” Mickey refers to the teachers without shame.

Y/N smirks. “They really are assholes. They black mailed me to tutor you, y’know?”

“They did?” Mickey is surprised, thinking it’s ridiculous. “Fucking bastards…” He then thought of something. “We should get revenge.”

“Whaddaya mean? You talking about a school shootin’ or somethin’?”

“No, just destroying the principal’s office. And for good sake, his car.”

Y/N thought about it, not declining the idea at first, causing Mickey to smile with glee. Feeling like he wants to bite back, the usually good student caves in. “Only after you ace your tests.”

Mickey offers a fist-Bumb, which Y/N accepts. “Deal.”

-

Y/N awaits outside of the classroom, wanting to see Mickey after finishing his last test. As Y/N daydream off, his eyes suddenly went wide awake when Mickey gets out of the classroom with a smirk on his face.

“And?”

“Not a problem.”

“Nice.” Y/N offers a high-five, which Mickey accepts.

“Now it’s for me to help your ass.” Mickey gestures his friend to follow him. They get to his locker, where Y/N sees multiple tools of destructions in the locker. “You’re backing down?”

Y/N grabs a hammer, checking it out. “Nah, they need to learn to not mess with me.”

Mickey looks proud. “Glad you’re not a pussy.”

After gathering their equipment, they get to the principal office. They see it’s empty, though locked. Using his lock-picks, Mickey opens the door, causing them to get access in the office. They look around, with Mickey looking back at his new delinquent friend.

“Want to do the first honour?”

Y/N holds the hammer tighter, with his eyes locking on the pc. With a heavy slam, the computer receives a massive hole, following up with another slam and another one. That’s when Y/N grabs what remained and throws it aside to stomp on it.

“There you go!” Mickey looks excited. He then gets to the desk, where he takes out all of the drawers to throw it away. “Let’s go wild!”

Chaos enfolds the entire room, as the two delinquents destroy the entire office. The shelves broken on the floor. All the files ruined and ripped apart. The chair being thorn into two. They even tagged the wall with a penis.

“You have a talent for making very gorgeous dicks.”

Mickey chuckles. “Naturally born talent.” He looks back at his friend. “And now we have made our territory.”

“Like a dog?”

“Yep.” Mickey hands move to his pants to unbuckle. He notices Y/N just standing. “You’re not joining?”

“I just think we should aim higher.”

“Like a shit?”

“No.” Y/N looks back at the desk. “Think anyone ever cummed on the desk?”

Mickey stops what he’s doing and looks back. “You want to fuck on the desk?”

“I don’t mean together.” Y/N clarifies himself, thinking Mickey is straight. “We could have turns jerking off.”

Mickey then just smirks. “Not the best time wise. It’s better we do it at once.”

“Huh?”

That’s when Mickey gets to Y/N to ambush him with a kiss, though surprised for a second, he quickly kisses back. The two guys quickly move to the table, where both guys begin undressing each other to take the ultimate insult.

-

“I think we’ve done enough orgies.”

“When is enough enough?” Mickey responds back.

They just stole the principle’s car and park it somewhere isolated, where Y/N and Mickey send another message from inside the car, multiple times.

Both guys are sitting in the front seat, where they chat as they’re covered in each other’s clothing.

“Well, I’m tired.”

“Of sex?”

“Yeah, l like it more dispersed.” Y/N grabs his boxers and put them on. “You’re one freaky shit to be able to have sex so many rounds.”

“Thanks.” Mickey merely responds. “There is more where that came from.”

Y/N hums. He grabs his t-shirt to put it on. As he does, he looks back at the guy next to him. “You’re staying naked?”

“I’m still up for one more round.”

“You really are a degenerate.” Y/N chuckles. “Well, the longer we stay here, the quicker the principle notices his car gone missing and the cops to find us.”

Mickey hums and think about it. “Right, I can’t really afford that.” That’s when he starts dressing up too.

“We can always do it another time.”

Mickey looks back to see a smirking man, giving him a smirk back. “I like the sound of that.”

-

“Got a B for math.” Mickey announces when Y/N walked in his house.

“Nice going.” Y/N looks proud. “And nice for me for being such a good and perfect teacher.”

“I wanna make a remark but consider the rest of my grades are all great, I let it pass.” Mickey goes to the fridge to grab a beer for him and Y/N. “Did you hear about principle shitface?”

Y/N smirks. “What about him?”

Mickey goes back to Y/N to hand over a beer. “Wasn’t too fond to discover cum on his desk, as well in his car.”

“Nice.” Y/N laughs. He put up his beer. “Fuck the principle!”

“Fuck the principle!”

Mickey and Y/N both cheer, celebrating their victorious, whether it’s from Mickey getting good grades, or Y/N standing up for himself, or their new find friendship that will turn into something more.

[flippinpancakes64]

The Cullens at the Club

My requests are open if you have a silly scenario you want to see these fellers in!

Edward:

^ his face the whole time

jk jk

He only agreed to tag along so that he could keep you out of harm's way

Doesn't need to drink and doesn't want to

I feel like he would be silently judgemental if you have more than three drinks

He would hold your drinks while you go to the bathroom tho

His favorite part would be dancing with you

Of course he would prefer to do it somewhere that isn't so crowded...

But he makes do

Told himself beforehand that he wouldn't get into a fight with anyone

But if anyone were to touch you without you knowing...

He had to have a talk with Carlisle afterward about controlling anger around humans

8/10 club partner he would prefer to be home

Alice:

The BEST

She has some rave outfits she never gets to wear...

And one of them might happen to randomly be your size...

She's a little crazy I feel like she would love to let loose

They have to act human around humans all the time

But at the club?

No one there's gonna notice if you're ice cold, not blinking, not breathing, or if you look odd

They are there to party

And so is Alice

She thinks it's funny if you get drunk

She will take very good care of you but she will also take videos and pictures

I feel like she'd have a couple drinks just for the hell of it

Not like she would feel anything but she likes the color of the pretty drink <3

Another dance floor maniac

Literally tearing it up, cutting a rug, if you will

She has a blast

11/10 she's the life of the party

Jasper:

Hoe repellent

Mr freak over here is literally scaring the hoes

If anyone makes the mistake of bumping into him they are guaranteed to stay on the far side of the club for the rest of the night

Good thing you aren't here looking for someone because he is the opposite of a wingman

Poor guy is trying his damnedest not to freak out and kill someone

He only came with you because you begged that you really wanted him there

When he felt your fear at being in a club with men you don't know he agreed

He's lowkey (highkey) regretting it tho

The lights are too much, the music is too loud, there's too many people, the smell of blood is SO strong

If he was a human he would have passed out by now

Jumps at any opportunity to leave

You were dancing and stumbled a little?

Ok time to go home

A guy made eye contact with you for half a second?

That's enough, home time

Will need like 5-7 business days to recover

1/10 sorry

Rosalie:

She's not really into the club scene

She has always been more family-oriented after all

But she'll go just to hang out with you

Seeing all of the young couple is kind of bittersweet to her tho

It reminds her of what she can't have

She's a little mopey

But take her to the dance floor and she'll loosen up

I think her hidden talent is knowing literally every dance ever

She can break dance

Not that she would

But she could if she wanted to

She keeps it lowkey tho

She likes seeing you have fun

Is the perfect support when you're drunk and throwing up

Will hold your hair and get you water

She's a saint the day after if you got really drunk

7/10 sort of in the middle but extra points cause I think she's pretty <3

Emmett:

Oh lord

He was probably the one to suggest to go tbh

He gives me MAJOR frat boy energy

This man has taken his shirt off and jumped on a table to crowdsurf before you were even there for 10 minutes

Monster at beer pong tho

He's not that interested in the dance floor tho he's the one starting bar fights

He thinks it's funny when drunk guys try to fight

One time he started a 20 person fight and he just stood there watching

He got kicked out of course

And banned

And the police would have come if he hadn't left so quick and if the camera footage was better quality

When he's having a chill night tho he loves to parade you around

Again, will fistfight anyone who looks at you weird

"This guy bothering you?" *cue WWE elbow drive*

Overall he's similar to Alice in that he loves to let loose

They don't get to do it too often and he LOVES it

9/10 minus one point because he got you guys kicked out of your favorite bar

Carlisle:

I think he'd hate a normal club

He would love like a high-end bar tho

Like the ones where guys sit in big chairs and smoke cigars and play pool

He's old money what can I say

But if you insist on going he would go with you

Again just to ensure your safety

Mostly he's watching from the sidelines

He doesn't want to go into the crowd of people

Wouldn't really want to dance but he would do it anyway

Mostly he just sort of nags

"I think you might want to hold off on another drink for now"

"Maybe we should go get some fresh air to give your eardrums a break from this loud music"

"You've had a lot to drink maybe you should go to the bathroom"

Brings down the mood a little bit

8/10 extra points because he, again, is a saint the morning after

Esme:

She might be the only one who downright refuses

Don't get me wrong, she cares for you

But not enough to go to the club

She's just not a fan

It's not her scene

She knows who she is, what she likes, and where her priorities are

She would suggest going with someone else

She knows Emmett and Alice love it and would suggest you going with them

She would be there for you as soon as you get home tho

Nice, warm bath

Your favorite food

Comfy clothes

And the next morning your favorite food again along with some painkillers if that's what you need

I feel like I can't give her a rating since she doesn't go tho

So we'll say 0/0

Vampire! Bella:

She's unexpected

At first she'll insist that she doesn't want to go, that it will be too loud, etc.

But she caves eventually

And once she gets there she is a different person

Screaming with the music, dancing up a storm, literally insane

It's a good thing she can't get drunk cause you can't even begin to think what she'd be like then

Of course, she is still aware tho

If she sees you getting uncomfortable, a guy is being creepy, you've drank too much, she is instantly there

Won't fight a guy but she will yell at them

She's more likely to be sneaky tho

One time a guy was hitting on you so she told him off and then sneakily cut a hole in his jeans so the next time he bent over his pants ripped in half

Very memorable night

Solid 10/10 she's fun but also caring

[arbiterlexultionis]

Instant Eternity Pt. 2

So, Danny has the infi-map and uses it to go on vacations and the like to enjoy his now eternal life. The infinite realms are Infinite, really and truly. But locations within the realms correlate to spaces in the “real” world, so what happens when you travel beyond what should be the ends of the “real” universe in the realms? You find other universes. All universes, realities, multi and Omni verses connect with the Infinite Realms, hence the name kind of implying the existence of infinite realms. With the infimap Danny’s able to visit and explore these other planes of existence to his hearts content, and over the course of his travels makes a number of close friends.

He can’t just say goodbye forever, can’t leave them with no way to call for aid or call for small talk so, he comes up with a bit of a crazy plan to make sure all his new friends can meet each other and stay in contact. A combination of the infi-map, Fenton portal technology, time medallions/assistance from clockwork, help from the yeti’s and maybe even some help from Dr. Strange or Dr. Fate all come together to make a private club that connects to who knows how many dimensions. In a Ghost King AU his royal palace has all the normal palace stuff but surrounding Phantom’s Keep is a whole town for inter-dimensional travelers. The portals themselves are all in a massive tower, either leaning tower of Pisa style or a massive clock tower because of how much Clockwork helped out, arranged kind of like how all the statues of the avatars are arranged in the air temple in ATLA.

Danny’s sitting at his desk in his office while 7 Gokus, 13 Vegitas, 4 Beeruses(Beerusi? A pod of Beerus? Flock?) 10 Piccolos and 1 Gohan crowd the rest of his office. “Two Hundred and Forty. 2-4-fucking-0. That is the number of of Territories that have lodged official complaints about the ruckus your fights have been causing! Queen Patet sent a fifty seven page long letter asking me to give every single one of your dimensions eternal travel bans to all of your dimensions and every dimension where even one of you exist. Because the shockwaves from your fights were still strong enough to shatter glass when they reached her Territory. The territory of Vitrum, which makes Fucking Everything from glass! Including the Goddamn Buildings! They build their cities in massive glass orbs! More than thirteen hundred buildings torn down in one day. Including every single hospital they had. You fought for nine days straight. Get out. Get the crap baskets out of my office. Now. Go home. Let the Bulmas know that they’re paying the reparations.” They all file out of the office, Vegitas and the flock of Beerus mumbling about how they shouldn’t have made their buildings out of glass if they didn’t want them to get broken. The one(1) brain cell the group had, otherwise known as Gohan, was apparently the only one with manners, profusely apologizing and offering to help with the clean up even as he got shooed out of the office.

More then a dozen Quirckless!Izuku vigilantes come together to form a great big club to share intel that match’s across their various worlds, analyze quirks, train and give each other therapy. It’s all going well. Then the Batmen stop developing contingency plans for literally all the beings they meet here juuust long enough for their adoption senses to start tingling. The Dad Mights, Dadzawas and Dad for Ones put aside their differences to combat this new threat. The Spider-men are sitting in a corner grateful that their spider senses and Peter tingles helped them avoid all that nonsense. Until the Iron Dads show up. Then they’re all to busy running and cursing their Parker luck to be grateful.

Passing through a gateway to another universe that isn’t yours require approval from no less then half the visitors from that verse and/or Danny himself. Same thing goes for leaving the compound to explore the Realms.

All the adoption addicts from across the multiverse take one look at Danny, listen to all the rumors about his parents and go “Mine!”. Luckily for Danny he doesn’t really have to to worry to much, doesn’t even notice really, because 2.3 seconds after they did that they all turned to each other and went “No! Not yours, Mine!” The infighting has kept them busy ever sense. However, according to an ancient, sacred prophecy(something that Clockwork mentioned in passing 2 months ago) they will eventually all decide that Danny having a proper support network is more important then who his favorite supporter is. So he’s going to get parented so hard by all three hundred and eighty of them. More moms, dads, ma’s, pa’s aunts and uncles then he’ll know what to do with.

[rubytrait]

🌦️Gloom & Bloom Legacy Challenge🌦️

Last Updated: 29 October.

here’s an occult-free challenge for all realistic gameplay (and rags to riches) lovers!

I've only written 7 gens so far; I will update this post when I write more!

(please mention me when you post your gameplay if you decide to play this challenge!)

General rules:

- you don’t have to strictly follow the rules because this challenge is made so that everyone can have fun.

- you can skip any generation that you don’t feel like playing or don’t have the necessary packs for it!

- Money cheats are not allowed! Unless it’s stated otherwise in the rules of the generation.

- feel free to add siblings/aunts/uncles to your founder so you make your storyline more interesting.

- English isn't my first language so please bear with me!

Here are some amazing builders gallery IDs to add cool buildings to you save file:

loveheartish

Skywalkr21

Gryphi

thatonegreenleaf

kellyhartx

CillasYT

Pugowned

aceroladagamer

BrunaSouzaG

Gen One: A lonely pregnancy

Backstory

You found out that you were pregnant but you’re still in your last year of high school, your boyfriend was not happy with that and decided to breakup with you and you were so scared to tell your parents about it but you knew that eventually you’ll have to.

A week after your 18th birthday and right after your graduation, you decided to finally tell your parents about your pregnancy. But as you’ve predicted before, they didn’t receive the news very well, so you got kicked out but you managed to steal 5000 similions.

you promise your child to always love them and to give them the best life ever.

Aspiration: crystal crafter

Traits: ambitious, family oriented, roll/pick the rest.

Career: Barista/any part job (OPTIONAL).

Child count: at least one.

Goals:

- Start as a young adult with only 5000 similions and move to an abandoned place and make it your new home (you can cheat so you can move to that place).

- Craft jewelry and sell them either with the sales table or open a small jewelry store in your house (live in business mod) to ezarn money to support your child.

- Make necklaces to each of your children and give the necklaces to them when they’re teenagers.

- You may find love again and have more children.

- Achieve level 10 of your aspiration.

- Will you try to contact your parents and/or ex boyfriend again?

- OPTIONAL: complete the crystal collection!

Gen Two: similions for everyone

Backstory

You grew up in a low income household, you witnessed your mom’s struggle since you were a baby and when you grew up you learnt about your mom’s past, you’re so angry for you mother and every sim that’s going through what she went through. You decided that you’re gonna be their voice and help them out.

However, one day you get drunk at a party and go sleep with someone from the opponent political party (you can pretend). But this isn’t the worst part, the worst part is that you’re already in a relationship with someone else.

Aspiration: any.

Traits: hot headed, loyal, roll/pick the rest.

Career: Politician (Charity Organizer branch).

Child count: at least 3.

Goals:

- Move out of your house when you become a young adult.

- Protest every weekend.

- Go out to a party, you get drunk and sleep with someone from the opponent political party and get pregnant.

- Keep visiting your mother every now and then.

- Will you tell your partner about the real parent of the child or will you lie to them and tell them it’s theirs? Bear in mind that this might ruin your career.

- Invite over your mother and siblings to your house every holiday and have dinner together.

- Max the skills required for your career.

- If you tell your partner the truth and they don’t accept to raise the child as their own, you lose your job and start working as a police-person.

- Would you tell the truth to the real parent someday? Will you fall in love with them?

Gen three: Where do I belong to?

Backstory

As you grew up you’ve always felt like you were a mistake, although your parent(s) tried their best to give you all what you needed but it was never enough to fill that hole in your heart. You were a threat to your parent’s career, your other parent wasn’t really close to you as they knew you were not their child (if they chose to stay and keep it a secret). So as a teen you runaway and drop out of school because you couldn’t live as a burden anymore, you take some other teen friends that want to runaway with you as well as your household pet.

Aspiration: as a teen, Live fast. As an adult, Super parent.

Traits: kleptomaniac, unflirty, roll/pick the rest.

Career: none.

Child count: at least 2.

Goals:

- As a teen leave your house and live in an abandoned house with a bunch of other teens and your house pet (if you have any).

- You start with 500 similions.

- As a teen, you earn money mostly by stealing stuff from other people and dumpster diving.

- Dye your hair, get at least one piercing and a tattoo(s).

- As a young adult you refuse to fall in love and have children because you don’t want to repeat the cycle, but that’s until you meet the nerdy, very academically oriented person and fall in love with them.

- Get married to that person and settle down and have kids!

- Always help your kids with their homework and make sure that they do well in school.

Gen Four: The messy scientist

Backstory

You grew up with a very academically oriented parent, getting high grades in school was very important to your parents. You can’t maintain any kind of relationships, so whenever you get a partner it always ends up terribly, it doesn’t bother you that much anyways. However, you’re always surrounded by a lot of friends from high school and university, you go out clubbing and partying with friends and have fun almost every weekend. One day you get a call from your family telling you that one of your siblings has died in an accident, so you decide to adopt their only child.

Aspiration: serial romantic.

Traits: dance machine, non-committal, roll/pick the rest.

Career: scientist.

Child count: only the adopted child.

Goals:

- Move out of your parents’ house when you become a young adult.

- Go to university.

- Have an affair with your roommate’s partner.

- Adopt your sibling’s child after their death.

- You can get into relationships but don’t marry, you can be in multiple relationships at once.

- Always have at least two dogs in your house.

- Max your career.

- Have an affair with your boss (even if they were married).

Gen five: Cozy seaside lifestyle

Backstory

You lost your parents early in life and were adopted by your aunt/uncle/Auncle that had a very chaotic lifestyle. They brought a lot of lovers around and used to go out partying every weekend, you didn’t get enough attention and felt neglected. However, you had a fish as a pet and you were mesmerized by marine life. You’ve always loved playing in water and pools, so you decide to live by the sea when you’re older. Although you have poor communication skills due to you not being raised properly, but you still manage to get through all your struggles.

Aspiration: any.

Traits: genius, roll/pick the rest.

Career: conservationist (Marine Biologist branch)

Child count: more than 2.

Goals:

- As a kid and a teenager always go to water parks and/or pools.

- must live somewhere near the water (doesn’t have to be a beach lot, you can live in any world that has a sea like sulani, tartosa, brindleton bey, etc).

- Max your career.

- Always have a fish as a pet.

- Befriend a dolphin.

- Maintain a strong relationship with your grandparents.

- Befriend your neighbor and eventually fall in love with them.

- Have many children! You were lonely as a child so you want to be surrounded with many family members.

- OPTIONAL: make sweaters and clothes for your kids in your spare time.

Gen six: The crazy ex

Backstory

Although you grew up in a lovely home surrounded by your loving family members, you still managed to turn out to be a little evil. As a kid you’d always prank your siblings and parents and as a teenager you broke so many hearts. But you take it into a whole different level when you become an adult.

Aspiration: villainous valentine. Traits: child of the ocean, evil, roll/pick the rest. Career: business. Child count: 4.

Goals:

Wear any alternative fashion style.

Have many relationships (you can have multiple at once), maintain them for a while then ditch them.

Breakup with at least one of your partners through a phone text.

As a teen, join the drama club.

Decorate your house with a dark aesthetic.

Kill a sim when you’re an adult.

Use the voodoo doll on a sim at least once.

All of your children must be from different partners.

Breakup a couple.

Max your career and aspiration.

Never get married, and give a lot of love and attention to your children.

Go all out whenever it’s Halloween.

Gen seven: The moody painter

Backstory

You’ve always been into the idea of having a soulmate since you were a child, especially after you witnessed your parent’s messy “love” life. You didn’t like that part of them and wished to have a more stable life, so you searched for love your entire life until you meet someone in high school that’d make you want to stay single forever.

Aspiration: soulmate. Traits: gloomy, roll/pick the rest. Career: painter. Child count: 2-3.

Goals:

have a very colorful and unique fashion style.

Dye your hair with a bright color.

Max your creativity skill as a child

As a teen, join the scout club

OPTIONAL: complete the insects collection.

As a teen, get into a toxic relationship with someone and breakup with them later (or have them breakup with you).

Have the “Coffee fanatic” lifestyle.

As an adult, move to the city (doesn’t have to be san myshuno)

Live in an apartment, and DON’T move out.

Max your career.

Get into a love triangle, choose who you want to be with in the end.

Date for a short while then elope with them immediately.

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 13

*cackles in evil author*

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 

*

When Eddie and Steve showed up for school the next day, Steve was called down to the office to speak with Mrs Hall again.

“Mr Harrington,” she greeted coldly. “It has been brought to my attention that your parents aren’t home, is that correct?”

Shit, Steve thought. He was technically a minor and CPS could be called.

“My father had a business deal in Japan this week, my mother went with him,” he said slowly. He deliberately left out the part where from Japan they were going to South Korea and then India before coming back to the States in a month.

She nodded grimly. “Only parents and legal guardian can excuse any absences. Last time I checked Wayne Munson was not your legal guardian.”

Steve nodded. “I didn’t ask him to. I was feeling really sick, like unable to move sick. So I called Eddie to get my school work for me only to find that Eddie was sick, too. I didn’t even know he had called in until you told me,” he lied smoothly.

Mrs Hall sighed. “It’s clear that you will not head my warning to stay away from that boy. And as your parents are currently not reachable the principal has asked Mr Munson to stand in loco parentis any time your parents are away.”

Steve blinked. He knew that Principal Higgins hated Eddie for being out, loud, and proud about well...everything really. So for him to ask Eddie’s uncle to watch over Steve, either it was a front or Eddie got his silver tongue from Wayne.

Which all things considered, Steve would bet one hundred percent on the latter.

“That’s nice of Principal Higgins and Mr Munson, ma’am,” was all he said on the matter.

“You will just have to sign here, saying you agree,” Mrs Hall said, handing him a paper on a clipboard.

Steve carefully read it several times before signing it. He hadn’t it back to her and she looked at the signature.

“Mr Munson will also be put down as alternative emergency contact,” she said.

Steve nodded and briefly thought about how much it would take to bribe the school secretary to call Wayne first, before he discarded the thought. She would let it slip somehow and make things worse for everyone.

“Thank you, Mrs Hall,” he said demurely, looking up at her through his eyelashes.

Mrs Hall sighed. “I know you mean well, Mr Harrington and it must be hard when your parents are away all the time, but all this is stressing the school’s very limited resources, so please try not to make any more waves, yes?”

Steve nodded.

She dismissed him back to class and he went willingly. He walked back to Mr Vinke’s class feeling relieved for the first time in a long time.

Eddie looked up at him in askance and Steve gave him the thumbs up. Eddie relaxed and went back to doing his school work.

Mr Vinke smiled at Steve. “It’s good to see you looking a little less like death in my classroom, Mr Harrington. I hope this has taught you a lesson about staying home when you are sick, instead of trying to push through it.”

Steve nodded.

“Good,” he said and turned back to grading his papers.

*

At lunch, Steve told Corroded Coffin what Mrs Hall had told him.

“My uncle did what?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Came as a shock to me, too. But this is good.”

Everyone nodded.

“So whacha doing after school tonight?” Gareth asked.

Steve blinked. “Homework, I guess. Why you guys got something going on?”

Eddie grinned. “Well, you see, big boy, the Corroded Coffin boys just got their first real gig at little dive bar called ‘The Hideout’.”

Steve’s eye went wide. “Holy shit, guys! That so fucking awesome. Of course I’ll be there.”

“It’s at eight and will run about an hour,” Jeff said.

“They’ll card you at the door,” Brian said. “But they’ll let you in if you’re underage. They’ll just put black marker on your hand so the bartenders and waitresses know not to serve you alcohol.”

Steve nodded excitedly. “I read you loud and clear. I’ll try to get there a little earlier so I don’t miss it.”

Eddie chewed on his lip. “You sure you’re not going to be missing play practice?”

He shook his head. “Today they’re running through the song ‘The Lees of Old Virginia’, so I’m not needed.”

All the boys relaxed.

“We wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with Miss Lucy,” Gareth said. “We know how important the play is to you.”

Steve grinned. “That’s sweet of you, but I wasn’t going lying when I said I didn’t have anything. If I had practice, I would have told you I had practice.”

“What about swim practice?” Eddie pressed.

“Not until tomorrow,” Steve said with a half shrug. “I talked it over with Coach Hall. I’m still swim captain and will still compete just not to the extent it was last year. So I’m co-captain with Ezra Wincott. They’ve all been really cool about the play and the concussion and everything.”

Eddie visibly sagged in relief. “Sorry about the third degree, man. But you did have a life before Hargrove smashed your face in, and all of it can’t have gone to the shitter.”

Steve smiled. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t lie to you. If I had practice, I just would have cut out early.” He winked at him.

Eddie blushed.

*

Steve was looking at his closet woefully. He really didn’t have anything that wouldn’t make him stand out in the crowd the Corroded Coffin boys would draw. He pulled out the black t-shirt he bought for Halloween and the dark grey jeans. He’d still stand out, but not as badly.

He wandered into his parents’ room and went picking through the necklaces. Steve finally found a small chain that didn’t have any pendent on it and put it on. He also looked at her rings, but he knew none of them would really fit. He sighed.

This was just going to have to do.

He grabbed his coat, wallet and keys and went out to his car. As he was driving he thought he saw his parents’ car drive past him, but that couldn’t be right. They weren’t due back for at least another week.

Steve let out a slow deep breath and decided, fuck it. If that was his parents then that was on them. He wasn’t going to wait for them to come home every night like some heroine from some trashy romance novel.

He was going to go out and have a good time with his friends.

*

Steve arrived at The Hideout about twenty minutes before they were supposed to go on. He had a fake ID he could have got in on, but he knew he was driving home and really shouldn’t drink. So he used his own and when he saw that Marty, Janice and Gethin were there all with little black crosses on their left hand, he knew he had made the right choice.

“Hey, guys!” Steve greeted as he bounded up to them.

Janice eyed him up and down. “Looking good, Steve-o. But here, this will prefect the look.” She took off her flannel shirt and wrapped it around his waist, tying it.

She stepped back and admired her handiwork. Gethin and Marty nodded their approval.

“I think the only thing that would make it even better,” Marty said, “was if you had one of your ears pierced.”

Steve shook his head. “I know they have to stay in for two weeks before you can remove them and if my parents came home during that time...”

“You’d be grounded for life?” Gethin suggested with a grimace.

Steve sneered. “Something like that.”

He got himself a coke and settled down to wait for the band to start.

Then the house lights went down and the stage lights went up to reveal the band. Steve wolf whistled and cheered.

Eddie’s head snapped up, immediately clocking the other boy in the crowd. He could see his other friends were there, too. But holy hell. Steve put some effort into blending in tonight and the things it did to the insides of Eddie’s rib cage...shit.

He closed his eyes. He wished Uncle Wayne could have seen him but the older man worked.

But Steve was here. And that made up for it. It wasn’t the same, but a different kind of good.

Eddie stepped up to the mic and said. “Hello, Hideout! I’m Eddie and we are Corroded Coffin!”

He stepped back and began to play. The crowd almost instantly began to bob their heads to the music. And then Eddie began to sing.

And Steve started screaming. Eddie was amazing.

*

The show ended and the four of them went out back to meet them.

Steve rushed up to Eddie. “Holy hell, man. You guys were awesome!”

Eddie grinned. “Looking good, Stevie!”

Steve did a little twirl. “You like what you see, Munson?”

Eddie groaned. “I think we’ve established that I like you in those jeans.”

Steve laughed as their friends watched this great interest.

Eddie yanked on the flannel shirt around Steve’s waist, pulling him almost flush against each other. Eddie removed the flannel and tossed it vaguely Janice’s direction. “I’ll drop off some of mine, if want to keep coming to these concerts, pretty boy.”

Steve chuckled. “Feeling a bit possessive there, sunshine?”

Eddie growled and moved to step back. He didn’t mean for it to come out like that. But before he could get too far, Steve was pulling him back.

“Joke’s on you,” Steve murmured. “I like it.”

The only thing that kept Eddie from kissing those deliciously pink lips was the fact that everyone was watching. “Later,” he promised.

Steve nodded.

Soon they were being swarmed by their impatient friends wanting to congratulate Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin. They celebrated with sodas and cheese fries.

*

Eddie followed Steve back to his house, because they really needed to talk about this fragile thing blossoming between them.

Only when they got back to the house, that shiny silver beemer was out front again and Steve’s stomach dropped to his feet.

Eddie was out of the van in a heartbeat and by Steve’s side. “What do you want me to do?”

Steve’s breaths were coming out fast and shallow so he just shook his head.

“Do you want me to stay?” Eddie asked, gripping his arms and looking up into his eyes.

Steve nodded.

“Tell you what,” Eddie said gently. “If everything is all right and you don’t need me, turn your light on in your bedroom. If I don’t see it come on in ten...” Steve shook his head. “In fifteen minutes, I’ll come running, okay?” Steve nodded again.

Eddie gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be here.”

Steve took a deep shuddering breath and walked toward the door. He turned back and looked at Eddie, who nodded.

Steve opened the door and walked inside.

Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead  @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot  @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread estrellami-1

[bogusbyron]

Notes from 24th august matinee. Sorry this is 2 weeks late ive been busy . Heres the cast to keep in mind when reading

Note: if you want examples of certain line deliveries let me know, ill send a snippet from the audio

1) as SOON as the lights came up i was RAKING the ensemble for harry lake  and there he was

2) jordan as tall and commanding in his presence as ever. Spoke "ticket" VERRRRRY fast. Strong "law" on Meaning of the law. Harsh "yes" , on Yes, 24601, and obviously on Javert when he tells Valjean his name. Also held onto the yellow slip which uhhhhh classic

3) Valjean harsh-growl on "lord" in "lord forgive them"

4) Harry lake was hangin out by the stairs in the parole scene. He was also the one to throw the bag at Valjean. Lmfao

5) understudy bishop again! As last time, quite stern rather than gentle like Adam Pearce

6) Valjean spitting "good" in Done a bit of good.

7) bishop harsh on "that is right", as well as Quite loud and harsh on "passion", then quiet on the next line

8) valjean sobbing when bishop hands him his bag back :-((

9) during valjean's soliloquy, slight pause for stolen time after "so far" in Fallen so far, growled "if theres another", entire "gave me a number and murdered valjean" was spoken. "Soul" in Touched my soul verrrry upset-like . Growled "hate" in Hate the world. He also wiped his face on "i'll be back". He was doing a lot of sniffling from this point in the song as well which i liked . Voice crack on "soul" on Touched my soul which i fw. Pause on Reaching like "Reach. Ing". Upset on "Reaching but I fall", and a VERY strong final note.

10) At the end of the day as per an absolute banger - tom hext is the MOST visible ensemble member during this number, its great . Harry was being elusive but I ended up spotting him with tom in the factory . On the topic of Tom, he apparently did the hugest bitchiest eye roll ever when fantine says "and i pay for the child, what's the matter with that?" Which is so funny

11) katie hall AS USUALLLL TEARING UP DA STAGE🗣🗣🗣 delectable performance , lovely little suspended pause on "Life...... worth living". More goosebumps than usual too ohmy god this song is so good live. Also some sobbing between "autumn came" and "still i dream" .... HOLY SCHMOLY what a voice

12) tom and harry were the 2nd and third dudes at the start of lovely ladies . Not important but it is to me . As usual harry gets his arse slapped after "take all year" as he stumbles offstage LMFAOOO

13) for some reason i thought the foreman and the pimp were played by the same guy , only realised they werent when they BOTH came onstage. For context they look identical . Long hair with a beard. How was i supposed to know

14) fantine stumbles a bit after belting "already dead" . Also lots of weeping again for the bambatabois sequence :-( (also like last time he was like a screaming toddler)

15) javert low on "monsieur" in Rest assured, Monsieur . Which i liked

16) HEARTBREAKING "no" as fantine reaches for javert and he steps away before "i have heard such protestations" UUGHHHH

17) YOUPIEE! Breaking: My Ship Touched Each Other. Valjean puts a hand on Javert's shoulder to hold him back from Fantine .

18) hm, gayest cart scene ive seen so far . First we got the classic extended bicep touch as they make eye contact ("a memory stirs"). Javert harsh delivery on "broke" in Broke his parole. Half spoken "Of course" in Of course he now denies it. Harsh on "he couldnt run forever". Back to the gay shit, he walks RIGHT up to valjean, then once theyre basically cock to cock he glances down at his tits, then back up in time to push his face into valjean's for "this time there is no mistake", making sure to spit that T in mistake. Im taking they were inches away from each other. Insane.

19) milan was kinda looking down for Who Am I and all i could think about were how good his brows looked from this angle . Only note i took for who am i , other than mentioning how javert took his cravat after he takes it off in the courtroom. You can hear on the audio i took me saying "he's gonna sniff that tonight"

20) katie hall as always unreal as mentioned but shes seriously so good during this scene, her notes are still so strong despite being also so convincingly frail, duuude. Insane. Her and milan are such a heartbreaking duo its FAB

21) confrontation SWEEP🗣 valjean's spoken "listen to me". Javert kinda snaps "you must" very suddenly which is hilarious . Additional note but jordan's figure works so well for the confrontation and javert in general, or at least the way i view him so is it any wonder im so fond of him . Dude's hench . Makes him all the more imposing in all of javert's layers and coats .. delectable. All that grunting and groaning during the fight though Also his mouth wipe after he gets strangled Helloooo get out. At this point i wrote "shit punch" cause valjean's last punch at the end of the scene kinda sucked .

22) i forgot the actress but little cosette is sooo sweet shes lovely bless. Castle on a cloud is underrated i love that song .

23) 6th time seeing the show, 2nd tjme seeing luke thenardier.😭😭😭😭😭😭 LMFAOOOO tom sweep anyway

24) i like that Tall Jean (aka Willy Wonka as jordan told me he's called) is clearly an important character cause they still have him even when Jordan isnr ensemble, same fit and everything just with a diff waistcoat. Like hey Fake Jean. If youre reading this and dont know who this is you're a fake fan.

25) i like luke's french accent on "best inkeeper in down" .. mix it up a bit.

26) the gentleman guest cackling like a madman when both thenardiers flash him at the start of the song LMFAOAO

27) tom plays the blind guy if you didnt know. Anyway harry like, crawls? Up the stairs at the back of the set and when he gets to the top hes faced with a woman lifting her skirt in front of him . He then proceeds to stand up and play bongos on her boobs.?? Then later Fake Jean passes him a drink so thats nice

28) thenardier shouting "window shut"

29) here i wrote "jordan should play all the roles" who cheered

30) UGGHHHH valjean taking cosette's hands when asking her name in the forest scene brugh

31) luke is great as thenardier but i prefer the way Tom does the "i will pay" gag , cause luke just sorta jolts awake but tom does a whole snort which works better cause it draws more attention WHATEVERRR.

32) thenardier puttinf his leg up on the table when hes trying to impress valjean?? 😭😭😭😭

33) dude how is this show gonna cope w/o Claire Machin when the cast changes shes seriously so good . When the thenardiers are stood together to the side after valjean sits down at the table she like keeps gesturing as if telling thenardier to speak properly which is so funny . (As a guy with a regional english accent this was #felt.). She also fixes his cravat and then he taps her nose which was fire. However luke did fuck up  and said "shared each bone" twice OOPS oh well. He makes up for it with his classic shoulder touch-clap-stamp instead of doing the christian cross

34) valjean as last time grabbing thenardier's lapels to intimidate him before he leaves LOL

35) Will as marius i noticed moves around a LOT . ADHD who

36) harry as one of the policemen  who accompany javert in The Robbery YAY❤

37) for javert's bit in the Robbery - harsh on "hunted", growled "jean valjean". YUM! Plus spitting "feet" at thenardier. Very strong for the whole thing in general which i love to see of course

38) STARS INFLECTION, unfortunately nothing too interesting to note - not a bad thing cause Jordan's voice is gorgeous it just makes for Boring note readingLOL. Anyway..... Harsh start ("there, out in the darkness"). Very toothy (snarling expression) which i love to see thankyou jordan. Smile on first "stars", little smile on "counted" on Scarce to be counted. Held out arms a bit on "darkness" in Filling the darkness, then soft on "and light" which was luurvely. Had his arms out from "place in the sky" to "and your aim". The 2nd crescendo was VERY strong.. just wow ... additionally , Jordan was pointin riiiight at us at the end and he was thrilled to hear this when we met him stage door LMFAOA

39) Looked like marius almost walked into a beam when he enters the stage after Stars.  He also does a little giggle when he leaves . That whole scene he did not stop moving , girl slow DOWN

40) fake Gérard - he has the halfmoon glasses but wore a red coat instead of the greyish-blue one

41) Marius is so hype to be in love its so good, like hes a boy who's read romances all his life and hes finally like , able to experience it himself. Its so good. Hes thrilled. Grantaire gives him a kiss on the cheek❤

42) When marius, on the stairs, opens his arms a bit when he sings "burst of light", grantaire does the same while watching him from the floor. So good

43) when the students all gather round to listen to enjolras, grantaire like, drags him away from the crowd LMFOAA at the start of do you hear the people sing

44) noticed harry picking up and spinning one of the women as he exits after dyhtps. Also at this point i wrote "too many fair-haired white boys in this damn musical"

45) Cosette did a little swoop up into a high note on "love" in Do people really fall in love so fast. I love phoebe's voice!

46) Marius VERY excited on "music OFANgels" which was funny. Soft, near whisper on following "in my life". He did a little spin on "that is new, that is free". Bro does not stop. Also he does a really nice accent i cant quite place properly but it works for his marius i think.

47) He LOBS the stone at the window as compared to the other two mariuses ive seen who just kinda ... toss it. Hes so awkward though. And here i wrote "he feels mature but in the coddled autistic boy way. I fw him" that about sums it up

48) amena soft on "dagger in me" which she usually doesnt do . Interesting !

49) also for some reason there was like too long a pause after heart full of love like nobody clapped. Lmfao?

50) claquesous being used as a step stool again by thenardier during the attack on rue plumet. Always hysterical

51) Didn't hold the final "somebody's here" which i dont think ive ever heard. Strange! But regardless. Will callan has quite a unique voice which i WAS fond of , i liked him a lot .

52) STILL NO JAVERT BAKER BOY FOR ONE DAY MORE👎 anyway he was harsh on "wet" in They will wet themselves with blood. So, yay!

ACT 2

53) baker boy. Cheered

54) milan's "bitch expression" as i referred to it returns when he reads Now that i knlw

55) there were so many minor backstage noises . Btw like urm someones in trouble lmfoaa

56) AMENA BLOWING ME AWAY AS USUALLLLL gooooosebumps . What a voice god shes awesome

57) loudhailer harsh on "you" and short on "this"  for You at the barricade listen to this

58) djavanjolras being taller than jordanvert will never not be funny. Hes the only one bruh

59) javert's smile just FALLING when gavroche shouts LIAR is so fucking funny

60) Will callan's voice was SOOOOOOO good for A Little Fall of Rain ohhmy god its like , gentle , smooth. Delectable. He hit that shit And the heartstrings, amen. Great combo of like, disbelief and almost defeat which was heartbreaking okhhhmy gah.

61) Grantaire stopping enjolras from going to Marius after eponine dies

62) grantaire sits down and talks to javert after javert is brought out to sit on the bench which i think is hilarious . Like they were just chatting

63) valjean's gun didnt go off when he shoots the sniper in the first attack😭😭😭😭

64) javert harsh on "upside-down" in The world is upside-down

65) BARRICADE SCEEEEEENE we were fed. Javert shoved to his knees. Pause "between once a thief. Forever a thief." Harsh, growl on "if you let me go beware, you'll still answer to javert". Lapel grab AS PERRRRRR but thistime javert was struggling a bit and kept jerking away to break free . He put his hand on his chest when valjean let go. He took a couple steps towards valjean before he says "go" which was CRAZY

66) the "pretty girls" line in Drink With Me was harry 😁😁

67) grantaire and gavroche's hug after grantaires verse is always fire

68) milan very soft on all the "him"s during bring him home. VERY strong on the crescendo though as usual .. wowzers

69) 2nd attack - grantaire kinda collapses onto a barrel instead of fighting, facing the audience the whole time. After gavroche's death when he takes his body hes sniffling the whole time WHATEVERRR RR BRUH

70) enjoltaire was fed too . Hug and forehead touch before the final attack .

71) HIGHLY inconvenient death pose for grantaire . Kinda sat on the barricade and his coat mustve caught as he slid down cause itbwas basically halfway off up his arms as he kinda hung from a plank or something LMFOAAOAO

72) javert looking genuinely quite distressed over gavroche's body which is crazy  mane fuck off jordan with your expressions

73) thenardier playing with the body's arm kinda shaking it after first verse of Dog Eat Dog. Harsh on "kill" in Where they kill for the bones in the street. Where tomarsier steps on marius' arse like a stool  during the song's climax luke steps over him instead

74) Javert heavy breathing when he sees Valjean in the sewers . Harsh on "talks of justice". More heavy breathing before the soliloquy. Also put his gun down and clenches his fist on "take him, valjean"

75) as with stars, inflection was typical so nothing to note. jordan's expressions were EVERYWHEEEERE during the soliloquy and i love it . Eyes bulge and eyebrows up on "flick of his knife", which was delightfully harsh. Almost worried on "vengence was his". Harsh on "debt" in debt of a thief, almost shout on "damned" in damned if i yield. Arms out on "i am the law". Harsh on "valjean" and "or" but sings "Javert". 2nd verse hes CLUTCHING that parapet  which was crazyyyy this man is going mental for SURE. Desperate "to hold dominion" and "it was his right". Growled "can this man". VERY strong "reprieved" by the way, holy shit. Desperate as usual on "and must i now begin to doubt". Points to the sky on "heaven" In is he from heaven or from hell. Yells "killed me" in This man has killed me. Shaky, almost sobbing breaths as he steps onto the bridge. Growls "jean valjean". Additional note, i noticed it looked as if he was muttering to himself a little towards the end before the lights fade to black . Which like , mane fuck of whagever bro

76) Very nice limp on Marius. Weird comment i just liked it. Thank god  post barricade marius limp

77) Quick start on "theres a grief". Small, humourless laugh after "talked of revolution". Held "tomorrow" in Tomorrow never came for a bit longer than usual. He hit that shit on the first crescendo though HOLY moly, what a voice . Harsh on "faces" and "shadows", VERY angry on "don't ask me", and remains harsh on "what your sacrifice was for".

78) He Does wipe his tears! (Cosette entrance). (Bonus note from mossy hi: marius tries to sit down, cosette attempts to help him but he refuses and struggles to continue instead) Also for thst whole scene he was kinda facing away from cosette with a very upset expression which made me ughhhhhh:-((((. Seemed better when he looked back at cosette though YAY

79) valjean kinda hunched as he walks off after the confession. Tiny inconsequential note but i liked it

80) i love watching the ensemble for this scene SO much its so good . Tom hext with his wild hair gelled back is great, obviously And apparently was staring at thenardier's arse for most of it . Generally just a fun watch the whole scene i highly recommend

81) marius pulls thenardier by the shoulder when he tells him to go away lmfao. Also there was a dude in the back clapping when he punched thenardier and is like "whaat?" when nobody else claps with him LMFAO

82) Luke does his usual coy wave @ the lord at the start of beggars at the feast

83) i really recommend looking at everyone dancing offstage at the end of beggars - harry did a little hip wiggle dance . A few do variations of a conga line dance . Djavan"s servant character usually kicks his legs up as he wheels the table offstage . SO much fun (additional nlte: djavan's character in that scene in my top 3 ensemble characters)

84) gentle yet gorgeous climb from milan for the Epilogue . Nods on "Bring. Me. Home" URGHHHHHHH....... AND he rests his face in cosette's hair and doesnt move until "i'll obey". Nods at cosette on "i will try" who nods back. MANE FJCK OFF

85) very cozy hug between valjean and the bishop . Faces in shoulders and everything . AS USUAL HARMONY ATTHE END INSAAAAANE they are, as i wrote on my notebook, nut-busting