#to explain why Hunter would be water

[rafayelxsylusho]

How do the LADS men fu¢k the jealousy out of you.

Xavier/Rafayel

Already working on Caleb/Zayne/Sylus

TW: SMUT SMUT AND MORE SMUT.

Xavier 🌟🌟

The training session had been grueling, as all of all of your sessions tended to be. You pushed the new recruits hard, demanding perfection in every drill and exercise. They needed to be in peak form to face the horrors that awaited them out there in the No-Hunt Zones, battling the vicious creatures known as Wanderers.

The training session had wrapped up, and Xavier was wiping sweat from his brow with a towel, his chest heaving slightly from exertion. That's when you noticed the gaggle of giggling girls from his team hovering nearby, all batting their eyelashes at him and whispering to each other.

Typical. You could practically see the hearts floating above their heads as they fawned over their fearless leader. It was always the same - his reputation as the most successful Hunter in Linkon City tended to have that effect on people. Especially the young, impressionable rookie girls fresh out of training.

As you watched the scene unfold, a flicker of annoyance flashed across your face. The way they kept asking question after question, giggling at every word that fell from Xavier's lips, was starting to get on your nerves.

Don't they have anything better to do than hang around him like a pack of lovestruck puppies? you thought to yourself, feeling a twinge of possessiveness. This was hardly the first time you'd witnessed such a display, but it was no less grating.

Shaking your head, you decided to head to the locker room and get cleaned up after the long day of training. As you walked away, you couldn't help but overhear snippets of their conversation:

"...did you really kill 70,000 Wanderers all by yourself?" a blonde girl gushed.

"And with a sword, no less! I can't believe you wield it with such skill and precision," another chimed in.

You turned on the shower, letting the hot water cascade over your body as you tried to wash away the irritation. But even as you stood there, the image of them hanging off Xavier kept flashing through your mind.

Little did you know, the seeds of jealousy planted by their behavior would only grow more tangled and thorny as the day went on.

As you stepped out of the shower and started dressing you overheard two of the girls from Xavier's team. They were huddled together, whispering and giggling, clearly gossiping about their beloved leader. You froze, not wanting them to know you were within earshot, as they continued their hushed conversation.

"I swear, I've seen him around the headquarters a bunch of times, but he's never mentioned anyone special," the first girl said, her voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and envy. "Maybe he's just too focused on hunting to settle down with anyone."

"I don't know, Sarah. A guy like that? I bet he has girls throwing themselves at him all the time," the second girl, whose name you didn't catch, speculated. "Did you see the way some of the new recruits were fawning over him today? I'm surprised he can even walk with all that ego inflating!"

Just then, the second girl's eyes widened. "Oh my god, what if... what if he's actually gay? That would explain why he's never been spotted with anyone."

Sarah scoffed. "No way. I've seen the way he looks at y/n. Trust me, he's into girls... and I don't think he's the type to hide it if he was seeing someone."

"Well, if he's not taken, then maybe one of us should make a move. I mean, he's just so... captivating. Those piercing blue eyes, that chiseled jaw, that amazing body..." She sighed dreamily.

Her friend nodded eagerly, a similar starstruck look on her face. "I know, right? And he's so brave and skilled too. He's like, the total package."

Sarah giggled conspiratorially. "So what do you say, Lisa? Should we have a little competition to see who can get his attention first? Loser buys the winner dinner at that fancy new restaurant downtown?"

Lisa licked her lips, a determined glint in her eye. "You're on, Sarah. But I warn you - I play to win. That hottie is mine!"

You slam the door of your locker hard enough to make the metal clang and rattle. The room fell silent for a moment before the whispers restarted, more subdued this time.

As you exited the locker room, you couldn't shake the feeling that their stupid gossip had only added to the growing uneasiness you felt about Xavier's apparent single status.

Why hasn't he mentioned me? Does he not want people to know about us? Or is he just so used to women throwing themselves at him that he doesn't think he needs to bother? you wondered, your mind racing with increasingly paranoid thoughts

As you stepped out of the locker room, you were greeted by the sight of Xavier leaning casually against the wall across the hall, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked up as you approached, a warm smile spreading across his handsome face.

"Hey there," he greeted you, pushing off from the wall and falling into step beside you as you made your way out of the Hunters Association headquarters. "I was starting to think you might have snuck out the back way to avoid me." He chuckled, playfully nudging your shoulder with his own.

As you walked together, you couldn't shake the lingering irritation from overhearing the other girls' conversation in the locker room. You knew it was silly to be jealous, but you couldn't help feeling a flare of possessiveness at the thought of anyone else trying to stake a claim on Xavier.

As the two of you walked hand in hand towards your apartment building, you decided to bring up the elephant in the room. Glancing up at Xavier, you asked him about his thoughts on the day's training session with his team.

"How was the training with your team today? How did it go?" you inquired, genuinely interested in his take on the day's events.

Xavier was quiet for a moment, considering his response. "It went well, actually. There were a couple of new girls who really stood out, to be honest. They were strong, quick learners, and seemed to have a real knack for the techniques I was teaching."

"Do you think they have a real shot at making it as Hunters?" you asked, genuinely curious what Xavier thought of their potential.

He was silent for a long moment, considering his next words carefully. "Hard to say. They have the physical capability, but being a successful Hunter takes so much more than just brawn. It requires heart, determination, and a deep commitment to protecting others. We'll see how they hold up under pressure in the long run."

Without really thinking about it, you let go of his hand, feeling the need to put some distance between the two of you.

"I think I'm going to sleep early tonight," you announced abruptly, hoping to cut the conversation short before your jealousy got the better of you. "I'm feeling really tired after today."

Xavier looked down at you, a flicker of concern in his blue eyes as he sensed the sudden shift in your mood. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, reaching out to gently squeeze your shoulder. "You've been quiet since we left the headquarters. Did something happen that I should know about?"

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. "Look, I know today was a long day, but I was thinking... what if we stopped by that little hotpot place on our way home? We could share a meal and unwind a bit before calling it a night. My treat, of course."

Xavier smiled at you, hoping to coax a similar smile out of you in return. "Unless you'd rather just head home and collapse into bed. I completely understand if you're too tired to go out tonight." He kept his tone light and casual, not wanting to pressure you into anything, but secretly hoping you would agree to spend a little more time with him before the night was over.

As the jealous thoughts swirled in your mind, you felt your grip on your temper slipping away. Without really considering the harshness of your words, you blurted out your next sentence, your voice dripping with an unintended bitterness.

"No, but I think Sarah or Lisa would be more than happy to go with you instead," you snapped, immediately regretting the sharpness of your tone. As soon as the words left your lips, you wanted to take them back, but it was too late.

Xavier's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden outburst, and he stopped walking abruptly, forcing you to halt alongside him. He looked down at you, a mix of confusion and hurt flashing across his handsome face as he tried to process your jealous accusation.

"What are you talking about, y/n?" he asked slowly, his brow furrowing with concern. "Sarah and Lisa are on my team, yes, but that doesn't mean I have any intention of asking them out. Why would you even say something like that?"

Xavier stared at you, taken aback by your sudden outburst of jealousy. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off abruptly.

"Forget it, okay? Just... just forget I said anything," you muttered, feeling your cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment. You couldn't believe you had let your jealousy get the best of you like that.

Without waiting for his response, you spun on your heel and stormed off down the sidewalk, leaving Xavier standing there looking bewildered. You knew you were being irrational, but you couldn't seem to control the green-eyed monster raging inside you.

As you neared your apartment building, you hesitated, part of you wanting to go back and apologize to Xavier, and another part of you stubbornly insisting that he should be the one to come after you, to reassure you that you were the only one he wanted.

Maybe I should just go inside and cool off, you thought to yourself, knowing that you were still too worked up to have a rational conversation at the moment. I'll apologize properly later, when I'm not so angry and jealous anymore.

As you fumbled with the key, your hands still shaking slightly from the lingering anger and emotion, you finally managed to unlock the door to your apartment. Stepping inside, you quickly turned to lock the door behind you, wanting nothing more than the solitude and safety of your private sanctuary.

But as your hand reached for the lock, you suddenly felt a presence behind you. Your heart leapt into your throat as you spun around, a gasp escaping your lips.

There, standing just a few feet inside the darkened apartment, was none other than Xavier. For a moment, you simply stared at him in shock, your eyes wide and your heart pounding in your chest. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, not the least of which was a fierce mix of relief and guilt.

Before you could even formulate an apology, Xavier began walking towards you with a determined stride. His blue eyes flashed with a mix of emotions - hurt, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite place. He stopped just a breath away from you, his tall frame looming over your own.

"Is that what you're going to do, y/n?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "You're going to act like a brat and accuse me of being interested in other girls, only to run off and try to slam the door in my face?"

Xavier shook his head slowly, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "I thought we were past this kind of jealousy and insecurity. I've never given you any reason to doubt me or question where my loyalties lie."

Xavier's grip tightened in your hair as he pulled you flush against his firm chest, his other hand coming up to grip your hip possessively. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his intense, smoldering gaze.

"Do you need a reminder of what you mean to me?" he growled, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.

His lips crashed against yours in a searing, dominating kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. He kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you thoroughly, leaving no doubt as to his intentions.

When he finally pulled back, you were both left panting and flushed, your bodies pressed so tightly together that you could feel the rapid thumping of his heartbeat against your own.

"Only a fool would ever look at anyone else when they have you," Xavier rasped, his thumb brushing over your swollen lower lip. "You're all I see, y/n. You're all I want."

He stepped even closer, if that was possible, until you were pinned helplessly between his hard, muscular body and the wall behind you.

"I had other plans for tonight," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Like holding you close, feeding you a nice dinner, and then slowly, gently making love to you all night long until we both collapsed from exhaustion."

Xavier's hand slid from your hip to grip your ass, squeezing the supple flesh possessively as he ground his hardening cock against your belly. "But it seems like you need a different kind of reminder first."

His other hand released your hair to grip your jaw, tilting your head to the side to expose the column of your throat. "So I'm going to fuck the jealousy out of you," he growled, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "I'm going to fuck you so hard and so thoroughly that the only thought in your pretty little head will be my name."

Xavier's lips latched onto your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin as his hands roamed greedily over your curves. "And then, once I've erased every trace of doubt from your mind, I'm going to fuck you all over again, until you're drowning in pleasure and completely overwhelmed by the knowledge that I belong to you."

He nipped sharply at your earlobe before soothing the sting with his tongue. "Does that sound good, baby? Or do you need more convincing?" Xavier purred, his voice a sinful promise of all the deliciously wicked things he intended to do to your willing body.

Xavier silenced your attempted apology with another searing kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth and leaving you breathless. When he finally pulled back, his eyes flashed with a dark, hungry intensity.

"Apology not accepted," he growled, his voice rough with desire and a hint of anger. "You wanted to be a brat, so now you're going to be treated like one."

His hands made quick work of your clothes, practically tearing them from your body in his haste to bare your flesh to his greedy gaze. Buttons popped and fabric ripped, the sound of destruction filling the air as Xavier laid waste to your wardrobe.

In a matter of moments, you stood before him, naked and vulnerable, your skin flushed and tingling from his rough touches. Xavier drank in the sight of you, his eyes burning with a fierce, possessive hunger.

"Look at you," he rasped, his large hands skimming over your curves. "Feel how hard you make me, baby?" Xavier panted against your lips, his hips rolling in a slow, filthy grind. "You're going to take care of that later, with your cunt. But first..."

His fingers plunged deep inside your fluttering channel, pumping in and out of your tight heat with a punishing rhythm.

Xavier paused, his fingers still buried deep inside your clenching heat as he gazed at you with an intense, searching look. His brow furrowed as he studied your flushed and panting face, his thumb circling your clit with maddeningly light touches.

"Tell me what got you so jealous baby," he demanded, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. "I want to hear you say it out loud. I want to know exactly what made you doubt me, doubt us, like this."

His other hand slid up your side, cupping the soft swell of your breast, his fingers sinking into the pliant flesh. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, pinching and tugging at the sensitive peak until it stiffened into a hard, aching point.

“Ngh-Xav—” The whimpers just won’t stop spilling from your lips, his gaze drilling into your eyes and falling straight to your drenching cunt. “I- fuck-”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice a dark, commanding rumble.

"Talk to me like a big girl, y/n," he growled, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Use your words, baby. 

His fingers pumped faster inside your dripping cunt, his palm grinding against your clit with each thrust. The obscene sound of your arousal filled the room as Xavier fingered you hard and fast, determined to wring an answer from your lips.

"Sarah and Lisa they were saying.....ah fuckkk!" You try to tell him about what you heard but his fingers are still deep inside you hitting the perfect spot.

"Sarah and Lisa?" he repeated, a sharp edge to his voice. "You're jealous because of them? Because of my teammates?"

He withdrew his fingers from your clenching heat abruptly, leaving you empty and aching. Before you could protest, he spun you around and bent you over the arm of the couch, your bare ass and dripping pussy on full display.

Xavier delivered a sharp smack to your ass, the sound echoing through the room. "Let me make one thing crystal fucking clear," he snarled, rubbing the reddening flesh. "I. Am. Not. Interested. In. Them."

Another smack landed on your other cheek, harder than the first. "The only reason they were even talking to me was because we were discussing strategy and team dynamics. Nothing more, nothing less."

He gripped your hips punishingly, yanking you back against the thick ridge of his cock. "You're the only one I want, y/n. The only one I crave. The only one I fucking love." To punctuate his words, Xavier thrust his hips forward, grinding his clothed erection against your soaked folds.

Xavier knelt down behind you, his strong hands gripping your thighs and pushing your legs apart. He forced your knees to bend, opening you wide and exposing your glistening, needy sex to his hungry gaze.

"Keep these legs spread for me, baby," he commanded, his voice low and rough with desire."I want to see this pretty pussy as I eat it."

With that, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit, savoring your tangy essence with a low moan. He licked and suckled at your folds, his skilled mouth reducing you to a writhing, mewling mess in record time.

He sealed his lips around your clit and sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the swollen bud with expert precision. Two fingers plunged deep into your clenching channel, pumping in and out of your soaked heat.

"Mmm, sweet girl making such a mess" Xavier purred, his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh.

He spat directly onto your dripping, glistening folds, watching as fresh waves of your arousal gushed out to coat his chin and drip down onto the couch below. Without hesitation, he leaned in and began to lap at the slickness, sucking and slurping up every drop of your essence.

"Your taste is intoxicating," he groaned, his tongue delving deeper to plunder your fluttering channel. "I could spend hours feasting on this pretty pussy and never get enough."

Xavier's hands slid higher, gripping the globes of your ass and kneading the pliant flesh. He spread you wider, opening you fully to his relentless onslaught as he ate you like a man possessed.

"Please, don't stop," you whimper, your hips bucking needily against his face as you desperately seek more of that blissful friction.

Xavier pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal as he fixed you with a stern, disapproving glare. He released your thighs, allowing them to close with a soft, intimate sound, then you feel him gripping your hips and pulling you to straddle his lap.

"No," he said firmly, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Good girls get everything they want. Brats like you don't get to cum when they need it."

He punctuated his words with a sharp smack to your ass, the stinging pain sending a jolt through your body. Xavier rubbed the reddening flesh soothingly.

"Since you seem determined to act like a spoiled brat, I think it's only fitting that you be treated as one," he said, a wicked glint in his eye. "You can sit here and squirm on my lap, feeling my hard cock through my pants, until I decide you've learned your lesson."

Xavier's other hand slid up your spine, wrapping around the nape of your neck. He tilted your head to the side, exposing the slender column of your throat to his hungry mouth. He licked and nipped at the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing your pulse point.

He rocked his hips upwards, grinding his rigid length against your aching, empty sex. The thin fabric of his pants created a maddening barrier between you, allowing you to feel the shape and size of him but denying you the sweet friction you craved.

"Be a good brat and sit still," Xavier ordered, his voice a low, dominant rumble. "We have all night long for me to teach you the consequences of jealousy and insecurity."

Xavier's fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his thick, hard cock from his pants. The moment his length sprang out, he gripped your hips and lifted you slightly, allowing his shaft to slap against your dripping, swollen clit a couple times in quick succession.

"Feel that, baby?" he whispered, his voice rough and heavy with desire. "Feel how hard you make me? How much I want you?"

He pinched your nipple hard, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers as he continued his torturous teasing. Each pass of his cockhead over your aching clit sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, stoking the fire in your core.

His cockhead pushing against your entrance before sliding back up to bump against your clit. He set a maddeningly slow, teasing rhythm, denying you the deep penetration you desperately craved.

"Please..." you whimpered, your body writhing in his lap as you tried to chase more of that glorious friction. "Please, Xavier...I need...I need..."

"Need what, sweetgirl?" he purred, a wicked glint in his eye as he watched you squirm. "Tell me what you need. Use your words, brat."

His hand slid from your breast to your thigh, gripping it tightly as he spread your leg further to the side. This new position allowed him to grind the thick ridge of his cock directly against your dripping slit, the head catching on your entrance with each torturous thrust.

"Tell me how badly you want it," Xavier growled, his voice a dark, sinful rumble. "Tell me what it would feel like to have my big, hard cock stretching out your tight little cunt. Filling you up so deep and so fucking full..."

He punctuated his words with a sharp, sudden thrust, his cockhead popping inside your entrance before quickly pulling back out. The brief, fleeting sensation of fullness only served to heighten your desperate arousal and frustration.

Xavier's eyes darkened with lust as he watched your eyes flutter shut, your head lolling back in ecstasy with each maddeningly slow thrust. The needy, desperate sounds spilling from your lips only fueled his own desire, his cock throbbing and leaking against your soaked folds.

"That's it, baby," he purred, his voice a low, wicked rumble. "Let me hear how much you want it. Let me hear how badly you need my cock."

He gripped your thighs tighter, spreading your legs wider as he ground his hips against yours with ruthless precision. Each pass of his cockhead over your aching clit sent electric shocks of pleasure zipping up your spine, your back arching as you chased the sensation.

"Please, Xavier..." you whimpered, your voice breaking on a desperate moan. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so badly. I need you to fill me up and fuck me hard and don't stop until I'm screaming your name..."

"Since you asked so nicely, baby..." he growled against your lips, his voice rough and heavy with desire. "I suppose I can give you what you need."

Xavier gripped your hips tightly, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he lifted you up with a grunt of effort. He positioned your dripping, aching sex directly over his throbbing, engorged cock, the swollen head nudging against your entrance with a teasing promise of the pleasure to come.

With that, he surged upwards, driving his thick, pulsing shaft deep into your tight, clenching heat. Your body stretched deliciously around his girth as he hilts inside you, his heavy balls coming to rest against your ass with a lewd slap.

"FUCK!" you both screamed in unison as your bodies joined, your voices echoing off the walls.

Xavier gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he guided your movements. "That's it, baby. Ride me just like that," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Use these sexy legs and fuck yourself on my cock until you make yourself cum."

He leaned forward, capturing your nipple between his teeth. He bit down just hard enough to make you gasp, sending a jolt of pained pleasure straight to your core. At the same time, one of his hands slid around to grip your ass, spreading your cheeks and tilting your hips to take him even deeper.

"That's it. Fuck...I can feel you getting closer," he groaned, his hot breath washing over your breast. "Your cunt is squeezing me so fucking tight."

Xavier's grip tightened on your hips as he watched your core slide up and down his shaft, your velvet walls clenching and fluttering around him with each upward glide. The exquisite sensation of your silken heat gripping his cock so tightly sent a surge of primal lust crashing through his veins, his balls drawing up tight against his body as his own release approached.

"That's it, baby. Fuck...keep squeezing my cock just like that," he growled, his voice a low, guttural rumble. 

The words “C-cumming-” are barely starting words out of your mouth before it crashes into you headfirst. You arch your spine into the perfect semi-circle as your orgasm crashed over you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your fingers clawing at his skin as you clung to him for dear life, your cries of ecstasy filling the room.

"Fuck....fuck..fu...!" Xavier roared, his voice echoing off the walls as your velvet walls clamped down on his cock like a vice. The sensation of your cunt spasming and fluttering around his shaft pushed him over the edge, his own release slamming into him.

He slammed his hips upwards one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your quivering heat as his cock jerked and pulsed. Thick, hot ropes of cum painted your insides, coating your walls with his seed as he emptied himself inside you with a guttural groan.

Xavier's body shuddered and jerked as he rode out the aftershocks of his intense climax, holding your trembling form tightly against his chest. He peppered your neck and shoulder with soft kisses, his hands roaming over your curves possessively as he slowly came down from the high of his release.

Xavier tangled his fingers in your hair, gripping the silky strands gently as he tilted your head back to look up at him. His blue eyes searched yours intensely, the emotion and sincerity in their depths making your heart flutter in your chest.

He brushed a tender kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for a long moment. "I meant what I said before. I love you more than anything in this world or any other. You're my everything, my reason for living."

"Believe me, my love," he murmured, his voice a low, fervent whisper. "No one can ever take your place in my heart. It belongs to you, completely and utterly, now and forever."

Rafayel 🐡

Rafayel was already awake, his mind too restless to sleep any longer. He sat on the balcony of the resort hotel, watching the sun begin to peek over the horizon. The desert landscape seemed to glow in the early morning light, the sand dunes casting long shadows across the barren expanse.

He heard the sound of your footsteps approaching and turned to see you emerge from the bedroom, your hair still tousled with sleep. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth as he took in your appearance, remembering the feel of your body pressed against his as you slept.

Rising from the balcony chair, he crossed the distance between you and took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. His eyes met yours, a flicker of mischief dancing in their purple-pink depths.

"Good morning, my love," he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. "I have to run some errands at the art gallery today. Would you come with me? I promise it won't take long."

He knew he was being selfish, asking you to accompany him. But the thought of spending even a moment away from you was unbearable, especially in a place like this that felt so foreign and oppressive to him. He needed your presence, your calming influence, to ground him.

"Fine, but you have to invite me some dinner after" you say rubbing the sleep off your eyes.

Rafayel leaned back and laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief and gratitude. "Dinner it is," he agreed, his voice warm with a newfound lightness. "I know a little place not far from here, a local gem hidden away in the back alleys of the city. They serve the most divine seafood, as fresh as if it was caught that very day."

An hour later, you emerged from the bedroom dressed for the day ahead. Rafayel had already finished getting ready, looking devastatingly handsome in a crisp linen shirt the color of a summer sky and tailored trousers that hugged his lean frame. He leaned against the wall opposite the bedroom door, his arms crossed over his chest and a playful smirk on his lips as he watched you approach.

"Well, don't you look good enough to eat," he purred, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few quick strides. His hands came up to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him as he dipped his head down to steal a heated kiss. He lingered for a long moment, savoring the taste of your lips and the feeling of your body pressed against his.

As you ate breakfast, Rafayel couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He watched as you bit into a piece of fruit, your lips parting and your tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of juice. He felt a surge of desire rush through him, his body responding to the simple, intimate gesture with a fervor that surprised even him.

He reached across the table and took your hand in his own, squeezing your fingers gently as he leaned in closer to you. "I'm so glad you agreed to come with me today," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "I don't think I could have faced that place alone."

As you guys arrived at the gallery, a sense of unease began to creep over Rafayel. He had been looking forward to seeing Thomas and discuss some important business matters they had to attend to. However, as you stepped inside the cool, air-conditioned space, Rafayel's brow furrowed in confusion.

As you turned a corner, Rafayel spotted a note taped to the wall, the paper fluttering slightly in the breeze from the AC vent. He released your hand and stepped forward, plucking the note from the wall and unfolding it with a sense of growing trepidation.

The note was from Thomas, the handwriting hurried and slightly illegible.

Thomas wrote that something urgent had come up, a family emergency that required his immediate attention. He apologized for not being there and promised to make it up to Rafayel soon. However, he also mentioned that there was a package waiting for Rafayel in his office, something important that he needed to deal with right away.

"Well, I suppose you'll just have to play the role of my assistant for the day," he murmured " And i can't leave without my important...package"

" I wouldn't call myself a package"

Rafayel's head snapped towards the source of the voice, his body tensing up as he recognized the redhead girl emerging from the office. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something like irritation and unease flashing across his face before it settled into a blank, guarded expression.

Releasing you from his embrace, Rafayel took a step back, putting a bit of distance between your bodies. He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw tightening as he regarded the girl warily.

It was clear he knew her, though from the look on his face, not particularly well or fondly. There was a history there, something unspoken that hung heavy in the air between them. Rafayel's posture was defensive, his body language radiating a subtle warning.

The girl smirked, her green eyes glinting with a smug satisfaction as she took in the scene before her - Rafayel's guarded stance, your confusion, the charged atmosphere. She was enjoying the clear discomfort radiating off of Rafayel, reveling in catching him off guard.

"Rafayel," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I've been waiting for you. I do hope I won't be kept waiting much longer"

Rafayel's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he met her gaze head on. "Celine," he acknowledged coolly, his voice tight. "I apologize for the delay. I had some...unexpected business to attend to first."

He glanced back at you, a silent apology and promise in his eyes before turning his attention back to Celine. "What brings you here? I thought we had an arrangement..."

Celine's lips curled into a sharp, wicked smile at Rafayel's words, a glint of triumph in her green eyes. She took a step closer to him, invading his personal space as she gazed up at him with a challenging smirk.

"Oh, I remember our arrangement perfectly, darling, but I'm afraid things have...changed. I need to discuss some new terms with you. In private"

She jerked her head towards the office, a clear gesture for him to follow her. There was a commanding edge to her voice, a tone that brooked no argument or refusal.

Rafayel's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he glared down at Celine. It was clear he was not pleased with this development, the interruption to his plans and the demand for a private audience. He glanced back at you, a flicker of apology and frustration in his eyes.

"I apologize, cutie," he said softly, his voice tight. "I won't be long. Wait for me here? "

He didn't wait for your response before turning on his heel and striding towards the office, Celine falling into step beside him. As they disappeared through the door, Rafayel cast one last lingering look your way, a silent promise that he would explain everything once he was free of this unexpected obligation.

Left alone in the gallery, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a shroud. Who was this woman, and what hold did she have over Rafayel? And more importantly, what secrets were they hiding from you?

An hour had passed since Rafayel had disappeared into the office with Celine, each minute feeling like an eternity as you waited anxiously in the gallery. The once vibrant space now felt cold and sterile, the art on the walls losing their luster as worry gnawed at you.

Unable to bear the suspense any longer, you made your way towards the office, your heart pounding in your chest as you approached the closed door. You raised your hand, knuckles poised to rap against the wood, when you heard the muffled sound of raised voices from within.

Rafayel's voice, low and angry, cut through the silence. "I can't believe you're doing this, Celine. I thought we had an understanding."

Celine's voice, sharp and mocking, followed. "Circumstances change, darling. And you're hardly in a position to refuse me anything."

You froze, your hand hovering inches from the door as you strained to hear more. But the voices fell silent, a tense, heavy quiet descending upon the office.

With a deep breath, you knocked firmly on the door, your nerves on edge. "Rafayel? It's me. I'm going to step out for a bit, maybe do some shopping. I'll call you when I'm done, alright?"

As you approached the office door, ready to knock once more, Celine emerged from within. She stepped out, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she paused, looking you up and down with a critical, almost disdainful eye.

Celine's gaze lingered on you for a long moment, a smirk playing at the corners of her painted lips. She lifted a hand, pretending to wipe at the corner of her mouth with a dainty finger, a mocking gesture that sent a chill down your spine.

She tsked softly, shaking her head as she stepped closer to you. There was a wicked glint in her green eyes, a cruel amusement that made your skin crawl.

"Look who it is. Rafayel's little pet, come to check on her master?"

Celine circled you like a shark, her heels clicking an ominous rhythm on the floor. She leaned in closer, her perfume washing over you, the scent cloying and overwhelming.

"I must say, darling, she purred, her breath hot against your ear. You don't look like you have what it takes to keep a man like Rafayel satisfied. I do hope you're not feeling...inadequate?"

She threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed through the gallery. The cruelty in her eyes was unmistakable, the malice behind her words impossible to ignore.

Celine smirked at your stunned silence, your obvious discomfort clearly amusing her. She took a step back, smoothing down her tailored suit jacket with a self-satisfied air.

"Well, this has been...enlightening," she commented, a mocking lilt to her voice. She glanced down at her manicured nails, picking at a nonexistent speck of lint.

"But I must go and clean myself up. All this...business can be so messy, don't you think?"

With a final, cruel smile thrown your way, Celine turned on her heel and sauntered off, disappearing down the hallway towards the restrooms, leaving you standing there, your mind reeling.

With a sense of trepidation and growing unease, you pushed open the office door, the hinges creaking softly as it swung inward. As you stepped inside, your gaze fell upon Rafayel, seated behind the large mahogany desk that dominated the room.

He looked up as you entered, his purple-pink eyes meeting yours. There was a weariness in his expression, a tension in his shoulders that spoke of the difficult conversation he had just endured. The room was filled with a heavy, charged silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken words and secrets.

"Don't let her get to you. Celine is...a complicated part of my past. But you don't need to worry about her.

"Is she now?" You ask, " well since she thinks I'm not good enough to keep you satisfied I think I know what kind of relationship you had"

Rafayel's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and hurt at your accusation. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the desk as he fixed you with an intense, almost accusing stare. The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the space.

He was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he seemed to struggle with how to respond. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and tight, tinged with a bitterness you had never heard before.

"You think you know, but you have no idea," he bit out, his words sharp and cutting. "Celine and I...we had a business arrangement. Nothing more.

He paused, his eyes searching yours as if trying to gauge your reaction. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a raw honesty that made your heart ache.

Rafayel leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he studied your jealous expression. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and something else, something darker and more intense.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice even as his gaze remained serious. "you think I can't see it written all over your face, my love?"

He stood slowly, rising to his feet and rounding the desk until he stood before you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

As you turned to leave, unable to bear the tension and uncertainty any longer, Rafayel's hand shot out and caught your wrist in a firm grip. He pulled you back towards him, his eyes flashing with a sudden intensity.

"Where do you think you're going, cutie?" he asked, a dangerous edge to his voice. Before you could respond, he had already crossed the room and closed the office door with a sharp click.

"I don't think I'm done with you just yet. We need to talk about this little...outburst of jealousy"

He stepped closer, backing you up until your back hit the door. His hands came up to grip your hips, pulling your body flush against his as he gazed down at you with a mix of amusement and something else, something darker and more primal.

"Tell me, y/n", he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Do you really think so little of me? Of us? I thought you knew me better than that... But it seems I was wrong."

Rafayel's hands slid down to grip the backs of your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he lifted you effortlessly. He carried you towards the desk, sweeping aside the clutter of papers and art supplies before setting you down on the polished wood surface.

He stepped between your parted legs, his hands coming to rest on your knees as he leaned in close, his face mere inches from yours. The desk creaked softly beneath your combined weight, the sound echoing in the tense silence of the office.

His hands slid slowly up your thighs, his thumbs tracing teasing circles on the sensitive skin just below the hem of your skirt. He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body, could see the pulse jumping in his throat as he stared you down.

"I won't have you doubting me, doubting us", he said softly, but there was a steely undercurrent to his words. "Now, pretty...what makes you think you know the true nature of my relationship with Celine? What makes you think you know anything at all about the man you claim to love?"

As you began to stammer out an explanation, Rafayel silenced you by suddenly reaching between your thighs. His fingers deftly pushed your skirt up and out of the way, and in one sharp, aggressive motion, he ripped your panties clean off, the flimsy fabric tearing like tissue paper in his grasp.

You gasped, your body jolting at the sudden, intimate contact and the brutal destruction of your undergarment. Rafayel's eyes flashed with a wild, almost feral light as he watched your reaction, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Shhhhh", he hushed you, his fingers already delving beneath the tattered remains of your panties to stroke along your most sensitive flesh. "No more words out of your pretty mouth, my love. No more words at all."

He pushed your thighs further apart, making room for himself as he stepped even closer, the hard, muscular length of his body pressing against yours. His hand cupped your sex possessively, his thumb finding your clit and circling the tender bud with a maddening, teasing pressure.

Rafayel's hands gripped your ankles, pushing your feet up and outwards until your knees bent and your legs fell open, fully exposing you to his hungry gaze. Your skirt, now bunched up around your waist, left you bare and vulnerable, the tattered remnants of your ruined panties dangling off one ankle.

He drank in the sight of your naked, glistening sex, his eyes darkening with lust and a possessive intensity that made your heart race. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned down, his breath hot and heavy against your most intimate flesh.

He leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. He licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance up to your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth with a low, approving groan.

"You taste like heaven" he murmured against your flesh, his words muffled and distorted by his greedy mouthing at your sex.

" Raf.....the door isn't locked" you warn him.

Rafayel paused briefly in his ministrations, glancing up at you with a wicked, almost defiant grin. He seemed not at all concerned by the possibility of being caught in such a compromising position.

"Let them come," he challenged, a reckless edge to his voice. "Let the whole fucking world see me claiming what's mine. I don't care anymore."

With that, he dove back in, his mouth latching onto your sex with a hunger that bordered on feral. His tongue pushed inside you, thrusting deep and hard, fucking you with a intensity that stole your breath.

One hand released your hip to slide up your body, pushing your shirt out of the way to expose your breasts. He palmed the soft mounds, his fingers sinking into the supple flesh as he rolled and plucked at your nipples.

Rafayel lifted his head, his lips glistening with your essence as he stared up at you with a wicked, challenging grin. He seemed to relish the idea of being caught in such a compromising position, of giving the world a peek into the dark, passionate side of his nature.

"The walls are thin here", he murmured, his voice low and rough with lust. "So it's up to you cutie, Do we keep your sweet cries of pleasure to ourselves...or do we let everyone outside hear just how much you love being fucked by me?"

As Rafayel's fingers pinched and rolled your nipple almost painfully, and his teeth clamped down hard on your sensitive clit, you could no longer hold back the tide of pleasure that crashed over you. A loud, wanton scream tore from your throat, echoing off the thin walls of the office and no doubt carrying out into the hallway beyond.

"Fuck, yes!" Rafayel growled in approval as he felt your body convulse beneath him, your juices flooding his mouth and chin. He lapped at you greedily, his tongue delving deep to catch every drop of your essence as he pushed you ruthlessly through your intense climax.

In a sudden, aggressive motion, Rafayel flipped you over onto your stomach on the desk. He pressed your chest down against the cool, smooth wood, the air forcing out of your lungs in a rush. Before you could catch your breath, he had already gripped your hips and tugged them back, bending you at the waist and exposing your bare, dripping sex to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck, look at this ass", he growled, his hands kneading and squeezing the round globes roughly. "Such a perfect, fuckable ass. It's a crime to keep it hidden away"

He punctuated his words by delivering a sharp smack to one cheek, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. The sting quickly gave way to a warm, tingling pleasure that spread through your nerves, making you clench and tighten around nothing.

With that, he gripped the base of his thick, hard cock and rubbed the leaking tip teasingly along your slit. He coated himself in your juices, mixing them with the bead of precum that oozed from his slit. Then, with one hard, ruthless thrust, he buried himself inside your tight, clutching heat.

"Fuck, so fucking tight," he grunted, his hips flush against your ass as he savored the feel of your walls gripping him like a vice. "Such a perfect fucking fit for my cock. Like you were made just for me..."

Rafayel began to move, his hips pulling back until just the tip of his cock remained inside you, before slamming forward and burying himself to the hilt once more. He set a hard, fast pace, the desk creaking and shaking beneath you with each powerful thrust of his hips.

Your face was pressed into the smooth wood, drool already beginning to pool and drip from the corner of your slack mouth. The sensation of being so thoroughly taken, so completely at the mercy of Rafayel's lust and desire, was overwhelming. It was almost too much, too intense.

Rafayel grabbed your arms, pulling them up and bending them at the elbows to either side of your head. He placed your palms flat against the desk, giving you something to hold onto as he continued his relentless, pounding assault on your pussy.

"Hold on tight, cutie", he growled, his voice strained with exertion and lust. "You're going to need to brace yourself for what comes next. I'm not going to hold back, not anymore."

Rafayel kept up his relentless pace, pounding into you with a single-minded determination. But despite the intensity of his thrusts and the building pleasure, he somehow avoided hitting that one special spot inside you that always sent you hurtling over the edge. It was as if he could read your mind, could sense your impending release, and was deliberately denying you that final push.

"Punishing you," he murmured, his voice a low, dark rumble in your ear. "Teasing you, making you beg so sweetly for something I can give you...but won't. Not yet."

"Don't you dare come until I say you can," he ordered, his voice a harsh, dominating bark. "You don't get to come until I've had my fill...until I've pumped this greedy cunt full of my seed and marked you as mine"

You found yourself begging, unable to hold back the desperate pleas that spilled from your lips. Your voice was high and thin, strained with the effort of holding back your rapidly approaching climax, of keeping your body from seizing control.

"Please, Rafayel, please!" you cried out, your fingers scrabbling against the smooth wood of the desk as you tried to find purchase, to anchor yourself against the overwhelming sensation. "Please, I need...I need to come. I can't...please, Rafayel!"

Tears of frustration and desperation pricked at the corners of your eyes, your body shaking and trembling beneath Rafayel's ruthless onslaught. You were completely at his mercy, completely under his control. And in that moment, you knew you would do anything, say anything, to earn the release you so desperately craved.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back, his lips finding your ear. When he spoke, his voice was a low, dark rasp, each word deliberately enunciated.

"Don't. Ever. Doubt. Me."

He punctuated each word with a sharp, precise thrust of his hips, driving his cock deep inside you, grinding against that maddeningly elusive spot just out of reach. Your body shook and trembled, tears leaking from your clenched eyes as you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to stifle your increasingly desperate moans.

"Im. Yours."

Thrust.

"Completely. And. Totally."

Thrust.

"Yours"

Thrust

"So you'll wait. You'll wait until I give you permission. Until I grant you the release you so desperately crave. Until then...you'll take what I give you. Understand?"

He emphasized his demand with a particularly brutal thrust, his pelvis slamming against your ass, his cock buried to the hilt inside your clutching heat. He remained still for a long moment, his breath hot and heavy against your neck, his heart pounding against your back.

"Tell me you understand y/n"

As soon as the words "I do" left your lips, Rafayel let out a low growl of satisfaction. He angled your hips just so, tilting them up and back to align your body perfectly with his. And then, with a ferocity that stole your breath, he began to pound into that sweet spot deep inside you.

"Yes, just like that", he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release.

"That's it, baby", he encouraged, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. "I can feel you getting close. I can feel your pussy clenching around me, trying to suck me in deeper. You're so fucking close, aren't you? Ready to explode like a fucking firework?"

He angled your hips again, changing the angle slightly, and suddenly you could feel the tension in your body pulling tighter, the coil wound to its breaking point. Your breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, your fingers scrabbling against the desk as you tried to find purchase, to anchor yourself against the tidal wave of sensation threatening to sweep you away.

"Come for me, pretty girl", Rafayel demanded, his voice a low, dark command. "Come screaming my name, so everyone knows who makes you feel this fucking good. Now, fucking do it!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside you, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he finally allowed his own release to overtake him. Thick, scalding ropes of his seed painted your insides, marking you, claiming you as his own as he filled you with his essence.

The sensation of his hot cum flooding your core pushed you over the edge, your body seizing and convulsing beneath his as you came harder than you ever had before. Your scream of ecstasy echoed off the thin walls, no doubt alerting everyone in the vicinity to your shared climax.

As the intense waves of your shared climax began to ebb, Rafayel collapsed against your back, his weight pressing you down into the desk. You both panted and gasped for air, bodies slick with sweat, hearts racing in tandem as you struggled to regain your composure.

After a long moment, Rafayel rolled off of you, his softening cock slipping from your dripping cunt. He gathered you into his arms, holding you close as he pulled you up to sit on the edge of the desk. Your legs were shaky, and you leaned against him for support, not trusting your own balance just yet.

"Look at the mess we made," he murmurs, his voice still rough and strained. He gestures to the desk, streaked with your combined fluids, and the floor, splattered with the evidence of your passionate coupling.

"But it was worth it. Fuck, was it ever worth it. I love you, y/n," he whispers against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never forget it."

As you both stepped out of the office, still flushed and disheveled from your passionate encounter, you find Celine waiting. The young woman's eyes were round as saucers, her face a deep shade of red as she no doubt processed the sounds she had just witnessed emanating from the closed door.

Rafayel barely spared her a glance as he strode past, his arm around your waist to keep you steady. He paused just before exiting the building and turned to face Celine, a wicked smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Keep the paintings, Celine", he instructed, his voice still rough and low from their recent activities. "Our agreement is null and void, effective immediately. Consider this a parting gift, for your trouble."

Celine's mouth opened and closed a few times, as if trying to formulate a response, but no words came out. She looked stunned, her gaze flickering between you and Rafayel.

"And say hi to the family for me, dear cousin", Rafayel added with a mocking, almost cruel edge to his voice. 

With that parting shot, he ushered you out into the brilliant sunlight, the warm air a stark contrast to the cool interior of the gallery.

[diremoone]

remember to water the flowers

no warnings really, just fluff and soft sylus wanting to take care of you and make sure you take care of yourself <3 (also first fic with him pls be gentle)

Sylus nearly chucks the twins out of the nearest visible window the second he sees you shift in your sleep. The two quickly get the memo to leave upon his glare and the heavily emphasized wave of his large hand.

You stop shifting when the door closes, unbothered by the energy that the twins had brought in. Sylus breathes a silent sigh of relief and goes back to scouring through the online auction. He stops at an expensive bottle of old wine, noting the sweetness level and the brand before flicking it away. You wouldn’t like that type of wine anyway. You were picky about the alcohols you indulged in.

It also didn’t help that him spoiling you with said beverages to try helped make you as picky as you are today.

Sylus glances at you again. The dark circles underneath your eyes are fading the more you sleep… He scowls at the sight of you having such awful eye-bags. Why on earth the Hunter’s Association had the audacity to overwork their best hunter was beyond him.

Well, it wasn’t them overworking you. You did that yourself. Your employer just didn’t want to do anything about it.

And that was how you nearly landed in the jaws of a powerful Wanderer to nearly be slung around like a ragdoll. Had it not been for the weapons he’d programmed into Mephisto, you’d surely be locked up in a hospital with severe injuries to your body.

No, he wouldn’t allow it. If no one else was going to catch you before you fell, then he would without question.

Even if it meant sending your precious Hunter’s Association into a frenzy of you missing in action for a few days.

Sylus quietly sips on his tea and watches your brows furrow peculiarly in your sleep. You would wake up shortly, he notes.

And you do. You blink your eyes several times upon awakening. You gaze at a spot on the wall before flicking your eyes to him. He chuckles at the disbelief in them.

You grumble and lift yourself off the couch.

“What’d you do?”

“Bold of you to assume I did anything, sweetie.”

You shake your head. “You did something. What’d you do?”

Sylus chuckles and places his head on his fist, elbow on the back of the couch and replies simply, “I protected what is mine and kept her safe. That’s all.”

He watches as your memories of the last 24 hours flood your mind. You toss yourself out of the weighted blanket and get up.

“I have to go,” you say. “People must be looking for me. Xavier must be—”

Sylus scowls at the name of another man coming from your mouth. He grabs your hand as you pass by him. Thankfully, you don’t fight him. You knew you wouldn’t win against his iron grip—not without hurting yourself—no matter how much you pulled.

“Stay.”

You’re unable to retort. Not with the way he’s looking at you. It gives him the opportunity to explain before you run off.

“I’m aware of how much you’ve been running yourself ragged, Kitten. Don’t think I don’t see it.” At that, he watches your lips press into a firm line. He continues on, slowly softening his grip. “After Mephisto barely made it in time to get rid of that Wanderer, I brought you back to the N109 Zone to rest.”

“Well…” You huff. “I’ve got to get back. Thanks for letting me nap, but—”

Sylus raises his brows. “What’s the harm in staying a few more days to get some rest?” he questions. “It’s not like they won’t find you near where you disappeared in a few days. Not after spending your time in a Protofield trying to get rid of a powerful monster.”

You shift on the balls of your feet, looking away from him. You know exactly what he’s doing.

“The cameras—”

“Exploded in the fight,” Sylus quips.

His warm hand lets go of your wrist, but he keeps his palm opened and outstretched.

“Stay. Rest. Take a break then return in a few days. Your people may be looking for you, but they’ll be alright without you for a few days… worried or not,” he argues, nailing his points down.

You exhale in defeat. “Sylus…”

“We never forget to water our own garden, sweetie. And yours is quite dehydrated,” he hums.

You can’t help the sudden tiredness that overcomes you again, even after spending goodness knows how long asleep already. You don’t think you can help it this time. Not with Sylus and his honey-coated reassurances.

Sylus grins that grin and you want to groan. He’s won, and he knows that you know he’s won.

You take his hand. His long fingers intertwine with yours and he gently pulls you around the couch to him. You don’t question it when he pulls you into his side to let you rest on him.

“Just one day,” you grumble.

Sylus chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“Just one day.”

(You spend a total of three. And no one is any wiser when you return to Linkon. Not after spending those days in a… ‘Wanderers Protofield’.)

a/n: help me i’m making a playlist for this man now i’m no longer sane AHH. lol, but why is this man the one getting me out of my writing slump?? then again I shouldn’t be surprised, he’s so fine haha

[colossrat]

Billy likes to be independent, he is a little homeless boy who fights life tooth and nail. He always needs to be strong to show society that he doesn't need, much less want, an adult in his life sending him here and there.

But he doesn't need to fight to prove himself strong when he already looks strong. Billy can't ask for help as Billy because that will bring trouble or an adult trying to dad him

But Cap? he can let himself be vulnerable as Cap, even if he doesn't need help, he can ask for it. Marvel will just be a friend in need of help and no one will treat him like a helpless child for that

So, after a good few months, if not years, of becoming friends with his league colleagues, the captain starts to show how he loves having people around him for little things.

he wants to open a jar from the kitchen. He has the strength to go head to head with Superman, but he would never miss the opportunity to ask Superman himself to do it for him. Clark always gets a little confused, because the pot isn't that tight, or tight at all, but he always helps because he sees how it brings a genuine and happy smile to his colleague.

Does he need a snack? He will ask Flash to prepare something for him, saying that the food he makes is the best and with the best flavor.

captain has a problem with magic, he is completely capable of solving it himself, but he will knock on zatanna's door to ask for advice, potions, a protection spell and even a good luck hug if he feels she wouldn't refuse

There's a new movie, he doesn't even want to see it that much, but he's going to ask Cyborg if he can make the movie show in the watchtower break room because he finds the control and streaming platforms confusing

He will ask Batman silly questions, or even prepare complex questions with Solomon's help so he can ask and listen for hours while the bat explains things to him. Not that he didn't already know the answers or couldn't find them in the rock's library of infinite knowledge. but he likes to have someone talking and explaining things to him with so much patience, teaching and even being happy to have someone to listen to his knowledge

Are they going on a water mission? He will ask Aquaman for tips on how to swim faster or more efficiently

Is he having a slower day? Why not ask the Martian Hunter to accompany him to a cat cafe? Ask what are the best sweets or brands of cookies? ask for help to bake a cake or taste the frosting, a brigadeiro

He's having problems with his communicator, better go see Red Tornado if he has tips on how to use it without confusing the private lines again, or ask if he has some free time to go for a fly through some storms. He makes hurricanes, he must like storms just like him, right?

There is a dangerous magical temple sending dangerous magical frequencies, he can destroy it alone, but he asks the hawkwoman for help to put everything down with her mace

there's a cockroach in the watchtower… better ask dr.fate for help to kill it

A LADYBUG ON THE WATCHTOWER?! Call the jl green lanterns asap so they can conjure up a green safe pot to transport her back to earth!!

Did he fall? He wasn't even hurt, but he's going to ask Diana to check if he doesn't have a bump on his head. Diana understands where her little brother's requests come from, and she never unmasks him, she just takes the opportunity to make her little brother happy without feeling bad about asking for help.

Now, a hero approaches little Billy with a piece of food? oh. he will bite off your fingers and throw the food back in your face (not really because that would be wasteful, but he would return the food and tell you to eat it yourself, that he would get food for himself on his own)

He can be feral, try to teach him a life lesson and he will teach YOU a life lesson.

His shoelaces are untied and he just stuck them inside his shoe? you leave his shoelace inside the shoe. If a hero, be it the Man Of Steel himself, bends down to tie his shoelaces, OH MY, he'll kick you in the face and scream that you're not supposed to touch his stuff

Unless that you are also a child or mr tawny, then he maybe either accept your help or gently refuse

[aeristudios]

see you, space cowboy (epilogue)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It's been almost a year since everything has happened, and you're ready to come home—to the man who never stopped waiting. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bounty hunter!Wonwoo x bounty hunter!reader, brief mentions of other members (Jeonghan, Soonyoung, Mingyu and Seungcheol) .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, sc-fi, smut, fluff, lovers to enemies to ???, cowboy bebop elements, space au, established relationship, neo-noir, dystopian-ish if you squint .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PLEASE READ ALL THE WARNINGS! heavy angst, very strong language, mentions of murder/attempted murder, gun violence, morally grey characters, grief, guilt/self blame, kissing, very messy oral (f. receiving), nipple play, fingering, nail digging, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie, and still lots and lots of yearning .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.2K .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐀𝐍: Reader's nickname is Silver and the reason for the nickname is explained in the main story attached to this: See You, Space Cowboy. I highly encourage you to read that story first because this epilogue will make more sense. I wasn't planning on writing another part to this, but you guys really loved the story and wanted to know what was going to happen to them after this. Tbh, so did I. I loved writing these two and I shed a lot of tears writing their story. Ugh I hope this love finds me one day lol. Thank you to @lovetaroandtaemin & @wooahaeproductions for looking at this with me and thank you again @hobeemin for the banner 🖤

main story visual concept #1 visual concept #2 playlist

The sand here is warmer than you remember. 

It almost feels like silk, running your fingers over the tiny grains that sparkle like gold in the sunlight. The forever tropical breeze sways your hair off your shoulders, your silver hair shining like a beacon in the sun. The waters crash against the rocks, revealing the hidden coral, and you stand there in awe. 

The Sanctuary— your safe place, your peace. 

It’s been almost a year since you took out Aeron and showed the galaxy what a murderer he was, clearing your name with all the evidence you gathered with the help of Selene. There was no trial; his death was written up as self-defense, and no one was going to question more than they needed to. Wonwoo was placed as the interim head of The Organization and had to learn quickly how to take over the ropes and be the Boss. You stayed at a hideaway spot on a neighboring planet, with nothing but oceans for miles and a small island with a house and everything you needed. Jeonghan and Sohee visited often and kept you company, while Mingyu and Soonyoung came to drop off supplies at Wonwoo's request, keeping you alive during your self-isolation. 

The thing is, you could have come back as soon as your name was cleared, resumed your bounty hunter status, and gone back to the life you had before. Wonwoo begged for you to come back, to be with him, and as much as your heart yearned and your body ached for him, you weren’t ready. You were a debilitating mess, and you needed to heal, and bless Wonwoo for wanting to see you through that, but you needed to be alone. You needed to properly mourn and grieve. 

God, Wonwoo is a saint. You’ve put him through so much, and you’re still the sun that rises for him. He sent you updates without you asking, and sometimes you replied, sometimes you were so deep in your pain that you would shut off your phone for days and pretend nothing existed. You’re a shitty fiance; you know that, and you firmly believe that he deserves better than what you have been giving him. 

So why are you here?

Simply put, you miss him. 

Your time apart from him has been agonizing, eating you alive every day. You needed time to heal, but you are ready to come back into the fold. To come back home, which has always been with him. You’ve thought about it a lot; all you could dream about was him. The time you shared your first kiss, when he told you he loved you for the first time, when he asked you to marry him, etc. Your thoughts were loud even when it was quiet, and you knew it was time to quit wallowing in your self-pity and to be the partner Wonwoo deserved. 

You sent him the message yesterday. Just two words.

 “Tomorrow. Sanctuary.” 

He didn’t respond, but you know that he’ll come. Wonwoo has never let you down; you’re the fuck up in this relationship, after all. 

So here you are, standing on this beach with the sand between your feet, your stomach in knots as you wait with bated breath to see your beautiful man. You close your eyes, letting the wind grace your cheeks as you try to drown out the voices of doubt in your head, and just for a moment, just breathe. 

But then you hear the sound of boots crushing the sand, and your heart starts to pound in your chest, threatening to break free. You slowly turn and look at him, the wind picking up as you are finally face to face with the love of your life. His hair is a little longer now, barely touching the back of his neck, and he almost seems taller? Maybe you’ve been apart too long, and it’s fucking with your psyche. You don’t know. 

But one thing remains the same: his eyes. They are deep and soft when he looks at you. You still see home, your saving grace. 

“Hey there, space cowboy.” 

Wonwoo chuckles at his nickname, raking his fingers through his hair. The sun shines on him in the right way, and there isn’t a lens in the world that could do him justice. 

“Hey, my pretty girl,” he says, pulling you closer to him. You breathe in his familiar cologne, trying to keep the tears behind your eyes at bay, but you’re struggling. You love him so much; he is your lifeline. You hope that you will always find each other in the next life.

“I’m surprised you came.” You say, your voice is trembling. “I thought you’d be sick of my shit by now.” 

“There you go, still not trusting me,” he tsks. 

“Oh, stop, you know it’s not that—”

“No, it’s literally that,” Wonwoo interrupts. “How many times do I have to tell you—or better yet, show you—that I’m not going anywhere? I would do anything for you, baby. You ask me to leap, and I will. You ask me to shoot, and I’ll pull the trigger, no questions asked. I love you. “

His eyes peer into yours, penetrating your soul and leaving you vulnerable. There’s always been talk about how you're the sun that rises and sets for Wonwoo… but he is your twin moons, his soft light guiding you through your darkness. He’s your anchor, your rock, your peace. You were made for each other, and it’s never been clearer. 

“I left you,” you say tearfully. “You needed me, too, and I stayed gone. It’s okay to be mad at me. Scream at me! Do something!” 

“Silver,” the sound of your name makes your heart flutter. “You were never really gone.”

He points at your engagement ring, sparkling in all of its glory. You knew he always looked out for you, even when you couldn’t do it yourself. 

“God, you are such a romantic,” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. 

“Only for you, baby..” 

You shake your head, looking across the horizon as the sun begins to set, the sun turning into a stunning display of red and orange hues. You think about everything that has happened to get you where you are now, and even though your name is clear, how can you return to the way things were?

“So, what’s going to happen when we go back?” You decide to rip off the band-aid. 

Wonwoo kicks the sand around, and you see he is choosing his words before responding. 

“I stepped down.”

You look at him, your mouth open in shock as disbelief runs through you. “Y-you stepped down? Is it because of me?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think,” he says, gauging your expression. “I don’t want to be the head of The Organization. That’s what Aeron wanted, that’s what he trained me for. I love the missions and all that, but being the head meant longer hours, less missions, and not being home with you. I would hate that, and I already fucking resent it.” 

You study him, unsure about how you feel about this. “Are you sure? Don’t feel like you need to baby me, Wonwoo. I can take care of myself.” 

“Silver, stop.” His voice is firm but gentle, keeping you in check. “I know you are capable of handling things on your own. But my point is that we would not have the life we have always discussed if I took over. I’m still on the board and made sure you are on it too. So we still get a say in major decisions. “

“Okay,” you think it over. “So, who is taking over?” 

“I nominated Choi Seungcheol to take over. He’s capable and has the mindset to lead.” Wonwoo pauses, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I just want my job and you. Everything will be fine.”

You know of Seungcheol, and though you weren’t friends, you have to admit he is a good bounty hunter. He’s number three behind you and Wonwoo, and the few times you had to do jobs with him, you knew he had your back. Maybe the future isn’t so bleak after all. 

“So what I am hearing is, you still want to marry me?” You tease him.

Wonwoo’s expression softens as he pulls you closer, your lips barely brushing against his. 

“Of course. I’m going to love you for the rest of my life and the next one after.”

“Wonwoo, just kiss me already.”

 His lips crash against yours, his arms wrapped around your waist as your legs buckle at his embrace. His lips taste familiar, like the peace of home you have been missing for almost a year. You are done with the self-deprivation— you want him. Need him. And judging by the way he grabs your ass, he feels the same way. 

“I need you,” you whisper against his lips. 

“I know, baby, “ he says in between kisses. “I booked our favorite room on the way here.” 

Biting your lip, you let him lead you across the beach towards one of the many rooms in the Sanctuary, taking out the key card and tapping it on the reader. He opens the door to a spacious room with a soft king-size bed, expansive windows, and an open sliding door, inviting the ocean air in. You barely enter before your lips find his again, tearing off his shirt and throwing it across the room. You feel him smirk against your lips, unbuttoning your jeans and shoving them down your legs. Your desire for him is carnal, haunting even, and you need him inside of you now. 

“Fuck me, please,” you beg, undoing his belt. “It’s been so long.” 

“Aren’t we needy today?” he teases you. 

“I’m needy all the time.” 

“Touche.” 

He takes off his pants, revealing his stiff cock, and it makes you salivate. In your time apart, you’ve touched yourself to that night in the shower over and over, reminiscing the time he tasted and fucked you like it was the last time you would have that again. Now, you will have many more to come. 

You let him slowly take off your panties, spreading your legs wide as he looks at the sweet nectar between your legs. He licks his lips, grabbing you by your hips and pulling you closer to his face. He takes one long lick in between your folds, his tongue playfully brushing against your clit. 

“Please,” you breathe. “Wonwoo, please.” 

He obliges, eating you like a man with a purpose, to satisfy you. He nips at your thighs just the way you like it, spitting on your clit and sucking you all the same. He is dirty, filthy, sliding his fingers inside you and out of you, and tasting each time. Your eyelids are heavy, and you are on a high,  watching Wonwoo get pussy drunk off you, and it’s taking everything in you to not cum in his mouth. 

“You feel so good,” you cry out. “I missed you.” 

He hums in agreement, the vibrations from his mouth sending jolts throughout your legs. You take off your shirt, your fingers brushing against your nipples, pinching your hardening mounds. With one last lick, Wonwoo stands up, his face wet with your arousal dripping off his chin as he hovers over you. You lift up to meet his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue and understanding his addiction. Your legs wrap around him as he enters you with one smooth, slow thrust.

“Fuck,” you cry out, feeling relief and instant gratification. 

“I know, baby, I know.” 

He moves slowly at first, deep and intentional, like every motion is an act of forgiveness. Your fingers are in his hair. You look into his eyes and nod, giving him the okay to take you however he wants. 

He does that. His pace starts to build, rocking the bed against the wall as he fucks you harder, spilling your name from his pretty mouth. Your nails dig into his back, begging for more as the sound of slapping skin and moans fills up the room, not caring who hears you outside. You’ve never felt more alive, watching his cock slide in and out of you with such earnest, begging for your sugarness to cover him once again. 

“Wonwoo, I—” 

“Go ahead. Give it to me.” 

Your back arches as you see those familiar white stars, sending you over the edge as your release feels like a resurrection. Your legs shake; you're breathless,  sweaty and fucked out. He follows shortly after, spilling inside of you, his body trembling against yours. 

He doesn’t move, and neither do you. You stay wrapped around him, basking in the heat, sweat, and salt of everything you thought you’d lost. Your heart beats against his, a kindred soul in all this, confirming that you have your person and will never let him go. 

“I love you, Jeon Wonwoo.” 

He lifts up slowly, smiling softly as he kisses you sweetly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I love you more, Silver. I always have, and I always will.” 

You smile softly, returning his affection as you continue to make up for lost time, taking advantage of your new lease on your lives. At the end of the day, it will always be you and him. 

The Sanctuary, that is you and him—still standing.

And outside, the sea keeps living.

Just like you.

thank you for reading!! I can't believe we are done...

or are we? if you are interested in any spinoffs from some of the other characters in the story, comment, reblog or send an ask <3

[jess-the-vampire]

Professor Caduceia and Snakely

Checked out the storyboard for the deleted s1 episode "Homesick"

You can read it here : https://t.co/WpZJFWbR48

I just loved these cut villains, one whose design def seemed like it was given to raine when they got cut. (I wonder if the color palette was similar, but we don't have a reference to that so idk)

Thoughts on the cut episode below:

An episode where king and owlbert of all characters bond is kinda neat, especially since it provides owlbert himself a bit more character here.

The opening is def far different from any of the final ones we ever see in the series, in fact it feels like it should be taking place during the episode but it can't be given we see hooty from being sick to not being sick in pretty chronological order?

A focus on the healing coven was nice to see, especially since we never got that in the show itself, and get some idea of their powerset and what they do magic wise.

So Manny was an ambulance driver, and Camila was a nurse in this. People originally assumed camila was a nurse when the show started, and it makes me wonder if that was changed between seasons at some point cause clearly the crew decided to change her profession and it's unclear why.

you can use your palisman as a communicator? and an umbrella? I do think it's so weird that even at the very end of the show, they establish brand new rules for palisman. Like them being able to shapeshift into objects is straight up not explained and just sorta....happens in the show, like i feel like hunter would have no issue hiding flap if this is a thing. (It also kinda makes stringbean's ability slightly less unique) Like this is displayed in these boards, but they kept it even in the show itself, and i think palisman might need a proper rulebook.

On that same note, owlbert uses magic in this board, like we kinda knew palisman could do some magic without a witch, but this is the only time we've seen one use it to fight another witch that wasn't the batqueen. Like owlbert tries to full on blast people in this. I don't know if removing this episode makes this ability less canon in the world itself since they still can do magic in the show, it's just worth noting that palisman, according to this board, CAN fight back, even if they're not incredibly strong it seems. Certainly the kinda thing that makes you think on other episodes tbh.

This episode also brings up the idea that eda actually CAN and DOES bring human food to the BI, which never happens in the show, in fact luz implies she gets to eat very little options there, so this idea seems no longer canon?

The demon hunters at one point don't even seem to recognize owlbert as a palisman, which does not entirely make sense given they seem to be mostly common to the townsfolk, so I'm kinda glad for that plot hole being gone.

Caduceia makes it out like the emperor's coven forced her to teach? and she thought handing over a house demon to belos would get her out of teaching as if it were some kinda punishment or job she was made to do? I have questions

side note, house demons are called rare in this, like they're not common, not sure if this still applies in the final show, but yeah.

there's some very sweet moments in this with luz and eda especially, but also some funny moments, and some jokes that land a little less....i don't think we needed Caduceia to be kissing her snake like that from that angle, even if it was meant to be a little uncomfortable.

one reason i think this episode did get cut? we got a glyph in this

a healing glyph, which has some ties to water based on it's symbol

i'm guessing since they kept the main glyphs element based, a healing glyph would of stuck out and been a bit weird. Like it just heals people, it doesn't produce water despite looking close to the alchemy symbol for water, and well....we already got ice so this would be redundent.

so yeah, this episode introduced a new glyph that saved them in the end so it would of come back in future episodes, but to keep it simple that would mean cutting the entire episode as a whole just to keep the four.

Since they enjoyed Caduceia's design so much, they must've repurposed it for raine somewhere down the line.

very fun insight into a scrapped episode.

[veebeeboo109]

Cleaning up the Timeline

{You and Xavier train. Rafayel teaches you to paint. And you have and appointment with Zayne.}

Read on ao3.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Maid AU, Jealous!Xavier, Possessive Behavior, Mild NS!FW

Chapter 7: Checkup

After a day off, a long bubble bath, and an even longer nap, you felt marginally sane again. You would have never pegged Zayne as someone to be as modern as being in an open–? Poly? He didn’t seem to really know what it was, and how weird was that? Zayne’s parents were so traditional, you’d always assume Zayne would be the same. 

An adjustment, that’s all it was. And you spent your Sunday adjusting. Monday morning rolled around and you had forgotten about training with Xavier completely– until a soft knock came at 5:30am sharp.

You remembered it the moment you heard it, and scrambled out of bed. Calling out a hasty, “One minute!” As you scrounge for something to wear. Luckily for you, your limited wardrobe made it easy and you were dressed and ready in only a little over one minute. 

You weren’t exactly gym-chic, but who cared? Xavier clearly didn’t as he smiled brightly at you when you opened the door, “Ready?”

Your mind conjured a too-vivid fantasy of Xavier and Zayne. The sharp contrast between their light and dark– like watching sweet cream being poured into dark coffee. Your face flushed and you nodded, your voice a hoarse squeak, “ Yup.”

Xavier leads you to the gym and he makes sure the both of you have water before getting started. You weren’t sure what to expect but let him take the lead, letting him play ‘trainer and trainee’ which he seemed to enjoy. 

You started off with dynamic stretching and then some cardio. Xavier went to some stationary bikes and so you went too. Side by side, the two of you worked up a sweat for a while, too focused on keeping your heart rates up to really make conversation. 

Then it was on to strength training, and Xavier was…friendly. His fingers were warm when he adjusted your form on squats, and his eyes lingered whenever you finished a set. 

Xavier was remarkably strong for his physique– all precise lithe muscle without much bulk. Like his sword, a precise honed instrument for one thing only. You tried not to stare, but it was hard when you were supposed to be spotting him. 

You were relieved in more ways than one when the workout was over, and from routine alone you prepared yourself for combat drills and sparring next. That’s what the Hunter’s usually did. 

Only Xavier seemed to be done, and he saw your look of confusion and answered it with a proud smile, “We can work back up to sparring. How was today? Comfortable? Or too hard?”

“It was fine.” You answer, rolling your shoulders as that familiar ache settled over your body. It’d been too long since you’d pushed yourself, if you’d had to run from that statler yesterday, you’d probably be out of breath before you could get away. 

“You held yourself well before,” Xavier said, looking down at the water bottle in his hands instead of at your face, “I forgot to say it. But you did well.”

“Oh, thanks.” You said, a sparkle of pride blooming. It felt nice to be complimented on your skill in battle. You had assumed you’d made a fool of yourself, which is why Xavier had asked to train. 

“I need to get to patrol,” He explained, reaching out to place his hand on your shoulder. The thin strap of your workout shirt leaves little protection between your skin and his. His hand was larger than it appeared to be, and it expanded over the majority of your shoulder. His thumb drifted up, pressing into the tender pulse on your neck, and your breathing hitched. 

“What are you…” You breathed, but his hands squeezed slightly and your voice evaporated. 

“Checking your heart rate.” He answered your unfinished question. “It’s important to reach your target heart rate…”

You laughed and felt it shift his hand on you, “I know. Zayne reminds me of my heart a lot.”

“When do you see him next?” He asked, letting his hands fall, but sliding it down your arm as he did so.

“Wednesday. “ You replied, hoping he didn’t notice the little shiver that his benign gesture caused. 

Xavier seemed to think and then nodded, “Good. You can rest tomorrow and we’ll work out again Wednesday morning.”

It felt nice to be included and so you smiled and nodded, “Sounds like a plan. Now, off with you. I’ve got to get started on breakfast before Rafayel drags himself downstairs.”

There was a moment. A tiny almost imperceptible movement that Xavier made towards you, like he might try and hug you goodbye. But he stopped, turned, and left– taking his water bottle and towel with him.

After a quick shower, you start on breakfast. You had bought some premade pastries at the store and heated them up in the oven, and made some quick scrambled eggs. Xavier took a little longer than you to get ready; his hunter uniform is a bit more time-consuming than your sweater and pants. 

He sat down like he always did and asked about your day, what you had planned and if you were going to get your firearm soon. You answered with which rooms you were planning on cleaning and that no, you didn’t have plans for that yet. 

Zayne arrived, looking at his watch and always moving in a rush. The poor cardiac surgeon never allowed a proper breakfast, which is exactly why you got the pastries. You grabbed some parchment paper and wrapped two of the pastries up: a vanilla, and a raspberry. 

“Good morning,” Zayne greeted, setting his coat onto the counter while he moved to read messages on his phone. “Thank you, Y/N for breakfast again but I really have to–”

“I know,” You interrupted him, moving into his line of sight and handing him the warm offering, “Here. You can take it with you. Eat in the car, or in your office. Just make sure you eat.”

Zayne stared at the offered parcel like it was a prize, a sparkle in the gold of his eyes as the sweet smell of the pastries met his nose. He was such a sucker for sweets, and you felt mildly proud of yourself for thinking of it. 

“Thank you.” He said, taking the treats and then picking up his coat. He threw it over his arm and moved towards the door. You turned back to the stove, putting your back to him and heard him gently bid Xavier goodbye. The shuffle of movement makes you assume he’d given him another kiss to his temple. 

You wondered if you asked nicely if you could have one too. But that was ridiculous. Childish, even. You laughed at yourself at such a pathetic thought, but in the next moment there were fingertips in between your shoulder blades, pulling your attention away from the simmering eggs. 

You turned your head, and the fingers at your back moved to the back of your head, pulling you in so Zayne could press a quick, intentional kiss at your hairline. “Thank you, again.” He whispered into your hair, and you could only watch dumbfounded as he turned and left. 

When you finally managed to blink, you saw Xavier with his hand resting on his hand, elbow set next to his empty plate and his eyes staring you down with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Sorry,” You say quickly, turning back to the eggs and facing away from him. “I can tell him to stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You heard the barstool screech against the floor as it was scooted back. A sense of dejavu coming over you as you watch Xavier approach you from the corner of your eye.

“Why would you do that?” Xavier’s voice sounded different now. Lower and darker. 

“B-because he’s…because you two….” You cleared your throat and continued to stir the eggs, turning them more into tiny crumbles instead of thick scrambles. 

The heat from the stove became even more intense as the air around you turned icy. Xavier placed a hand next to the stove and crowded into your space, nearly pressing his back into yours. Heat leaching into you and your senses shivering like the gaze of a predator had fallen on your soft prey skin.

“The only thing wrong with what just happened…” Xavier’s voice was a hushed rumble, like thunder in the distance, “Was that I didn’t get my share…”

You swallowed hard, and tried to keep still. His breath had ghosted across the back of your neck, he must be so close. His lips were only one accidental movement away from your skin. It took more effort than you thought it would to not move. To stay completely still and not move back into him– into the awaiting expanse of him that seemed to pull at you like fishhooks in your bones. 

“Did he not..?” You stuttered, hands having stopped in their movement, “Did he not give you one?”

“No, he did.” Xavier’s hiss was at your ear now, “You said it wasn’t part of your contract…but Zayne has gotten two now, and I’ve gotten none.”

His words knocked something loose in your brain and you set the spatula down and turned. He was close. Close enough you had to crane your neck to meet his eyes, and you found a black void there. It was the angriest you’d ever seen him, “What?”

The arm not braced on the countertop went around you, fingertips grazing against the curve of your spine. His eyes never left you, and his head tilted slightly, “Are you playing favorites, Miss Housekeeper?”

“Don’t–” You squeaked, “I have a name.”

The corners of Xavier’s mouth quirked up, “ Y/N , I’ll ask again. Are you playing favorites?”

Your brain, which was only partially functional at this point, came up with a sharp remark, but what left your lips was, “N-no.”

“Then I should get two, right?” Xavier asked hoarsely, “Or, something equivalent.”

You swallowed again, “Something equivalent?”

“I could give you two.” Xavier ran his fingers up and up and up your back, flattening out just beneath your shoulder blades, “Or you could give me one.”

You recalled the last time Xavier asked you about this, but that had been so different. He’d be almost curious then. Inquisitive instead of interrogatory. He had asked about Zayne’s slip up like someone was passing out candy and he’d been forgotten. This time…this time was an offense. A crime to be punished for, and he was determined to get his due. 

“I thought you were with…” Your voice was barely a whisper, and came out like a guilty plea, “I don’t understand.”

“Two?” Xavier continued darkly, “Or one?”

Your mind short circuited, the touch on your back searing into your skin and misfiring in your brain. You’d never been so overcome before, and by such an innocuous thing. He was asking for a goodbye kiss of all things, and you were getting weak in the knees like some medieval virgin that saw too much ankle. 

But something about Xavier burned so intensely. A nuclear reactor– both subdued and dangerous, and the scent of him was like some potent drug. You felt a bit lost when he was too close, a bit dreamy like you weren’t really here. Like this wasn’t really you. 

“Two.” You heard your voice reply, though you were sure your brain hadn’t thought a thing. 

Xavier hummed, pleased, and pulled you in by his hand on your back. Reflexively, you tilted your head down expecting him to kiss the same spot that Zayne had, but he used his other hand to hold your chin. Tilting your head up and pulling a gasp from your lips. 

His lips pressed against your cheek, nearly on your jaw, and your hand snapped onto his upper arm– searching for something stable to hold onto. 

“One.” He whispered, lips moving against your cheek as he only moved far enough away to inhale. 

You tilted your head back as he moved down, prostrating yourself to his teeth and his desires. He could tear your throat out, bite down and thrash like a dog and you’d let him. What a horrible delectable feeling, to be so at the mercy of someone. 

He pressed his lips again, more open this time so that when he pulled away you felt the cool dot of saliva he left behind, “Two.”

A barely audible whimper escaped you, and you weren’t sure whether to faint or to fight anymore. Xavier pulled away, looking smug and victorious, “There, now I’ll be twice as lucky today.”

He let you go slowly, almost making sure you could stand on your own before he stepped away. On his way out he grabbed a warm pastry, stuffing it in his mouth like his victory meal and leaving the house like a conquering hero. 

You were stuck there. Breathless and standing on a knife’s edge. A part of you wanting to sink into the sticky, syrupy feeling of affection– and the other buzzing with anger at being manipulated. What was that? What was the point of that? 

As soon as you feel like you understand things, then they go and do something else! 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, only that the smell of burning eggs is what broke you from your spiraling thoughts. You quickly moved the eggs and sighed exasperatedly at the black char on the bottom of them. 

Stupid Xavier and his angelic eyes and his devil tongue. Stupid Zayne and his savored affection and sweet touch. They would be the death of you, if something else didn’t get you first. You felt like a bone being tossed into a lion’s den, gnawed at and exposed for their enjoyment. 

Were you a bone to starving lions? Or lion yourself? You realized the only reason you were struggling so much was the idea that you would ruin whatever it was that was going on between them. You were many things, but you weren’t a homewrecker. You wouldn’t participate if it meant coming between them, despite Xavier and his…persuasion.

Cleaning keeps your mind and your body busy. You were sore from your workout from Xavier but it worked in keeping you from thinking too much about your interaction that morning. 

You were debating telling Zayne about it, for transparency's sake. But that made your stomach curl in on itself. What would you even say? ‘Hey, your not-boyfriend demanded a goodbye kiss this morning and I trembled like a touch-starved virgin?’

You sighed and shook your head as you put away the cleaning caddy you had been using, “I should just leave.” You whisper to yourself.

“Where are you going?” A voice spoke from behind you, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

Rafayel grinned down at you, hands on his hips and his shirt covered in splotches of paint.

“What?” You questioned as you let your heart recover from the scare.

“You said you were going to leave, where are you going?” Rafayel shifted his weight onto one foot and jutted out his hip.

“No where.” You replied as you shut the door on the supply closet, “I was just thinking.”

The smudge of pale lavender paint on the side of Rafayel’s lips stretched as he frowned, and he looked unconvinced. He clicked his tongue and you saw him move on from that thought.

“Come with me, I need your eyes.” Rafayel reached out and took your hand, his palm was warm but his fingertips cool and you hoped he didn’t mind the slight dampness on yours.

“You need my eyes?” You repeated as he dragged you along towards his studio. 

Cool, ventilated air hit you as you entered his creative domain. A fan in the corner stirring up a sketchbook and fluttering its canvas pages. It made it almost too cool for comfort here, but Rafayel didn’t seem to mind. 

“I started a new series.” Rafayel explained as he pulled you to the low goldenrod couch. With a little maneuvering he sat you down and then walked over to grab a large square canvas that was leaning against a work table. “Tell me what you think.”

Rafayel held up the canvas in front of him, his paint stained fingers careful to remain along the edges. 

“I’m hardly qualified to critique your work,” You protested.

Rafayel’s pout nearly made you cackle, “You do it. Tell me if it’s too waiting-room.”

You sighed and examined the work. It was soft. That was your first thought. Clearly a depiction of flowers floating on the surface of water. Though it was hazy, the edges all softened and slightly blurred. Dreamlike and ethereal but still very real. Like you could reach out and feel the softness of the petals or ripple the surface of the water.

“It’s beautiful.” You say as you sit up a bit straighter. “It’s so soft. How do you make it feel so glowy?”

Rafayel peers around the edge of his painting and then back to you, “Blending mostly. Reflected light, and making sure the color palette is cohesive.”

He sits the painting down and goes back to you, bending down to take your hand that was sitting on your knee. “Here I’ll show you.” 

And again, you’re being pulled. You pass by three more paintings on the floor that match the one he showed you, all flowers on different liquid surfaces. One is multicolored and iridescent and the flowers are surrounded with bubbles like they’re floating in a bath. Another on shifting wine-dark seawater, edged with churning foam.

He brings you to an easel in the corner, a few other unfinished paintings sit on the floor discarded and a large rectangular canvas sits on its ledge. A workstation is sat next to it, a glass palette on top of it and several containers of long paintbrushes alongside it.

“Sit,” He directs as he pulls a stool over and sets you on in. Placed directly in front of the canvas you feel too much like a kid in front of a fragile vase. One wrong move and it’s shattered. 

Rafayel’s hand settles on your back, sliding down to rest at the base of your spine as he plucks a paintbrush out and hands it to you.

“Hold it back here.” He shows you with his own hand, “And let us just barely touch the canvas.” 

You jerk back as he begins to guide your hand to the painting, “I can’t. I’ll ruin it!”

“There is no ruining it.” Rafayel’s voice is a rumble in your ear, “Just changing. Now, let the brush just barely touch the surface and swirl it. Like tickling it.” 

You can’t help but giggle softly and let Rafayel hold his hand over yours as the paintbrush barely kisses the wet paint. The forget-me-nots have barely come into fruition, Rafayel must have been working on them still as he slides his and your hands to feather the edge of a petal, blending it into the crystalline water.

“Good.” Rafayel coos and you feel his voice as much as you hear it. It slides down you like a shot of liquor sending a shiver down your spine and heat in your belly. 

The fingertips on your back feel like they press harder into you, but you’re sure that’s your imagination.

“Now you try.” Rafayel lets go of your hand. You turn your head to look at him but his expression is unreadable.

“Are you sure?” You ask, still worried about somehow ruining his work.

Rafayel grins, “I’ll just have to make sure you sign your name next to mine on this one. Since you did help.” 

You laugh, “Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious, cutie. Your hands have touched it, so I can’t take full credit.” Rafayel hummed and watched you hesitantly continue to blend.

He steps onto your other side and he lowers his chin down onto your shoulder. The weight of him makes you freeze and then your head, but that makes your hair shift over him. And your face was far too close to his.

“How are you getting along?” He asks, eyes glued to the canvas and your frozen brush. You feel the rumble of his voice on your back, “With the others?”

“Oh…um…” Words are hard when you're this flustered. A sane part of you argues for your personal space, but another sadder more starved part of you hushes the other. 

You clear your throat before continuing, “It’s going well. Zayne explained a little about your situation.”

His chin shifts, head tilting closer into your neck, “He did?”

You nod and try to focus on the other flower and not the addition of his hands in your waist, “Mhmm. I got to talk more with Sylus the other day, and Xavier has offered to train with me. It’s nice. I feel like we can all be friends, you know?”

Rafayel huffs and his breath tickles your neck, “Friends, huh?”

He shifts, moving to press himself against your back fully. Boldly. A low inquiring rumble vibrates behind you. “I feel like I should warn you about your new friends , then.”

The seriousness in his tone contrasts against the warm lighting and the tenderness in his touch. Like his body and voice weren’t connected at all. Because he holds you like someone cradles something precious– like he’d held his painting not a few minutes before. Keeping his fingers along the edge to preserve the image. 

But his voice is a drawl. The low tone of a bow across a cello, setting a tone of solemn disdain. He sounded disappointed, or maybe irritated? He was hard to define, and harder to know. It felt like each time you saw him he was something new, and you had to learn all over again. 

“How so?” You whisper, his hand gliding up the curve of your waist and trailing down your arm back to your wrist. His long fingers wrap around you, and pull your brush over to the palette. As if you were his paintbrush, he effortlessly swishes the bristles into smears of his mixed paints, picking up form blobs around the corner to create a deeper hue. 

In an act of puppetry, Rafayel draws you back to the painting and begins to paint with your hand. His chest stretched across your shoulder and his breath brushing against your ear. The silence in the room deafened by the soft brush of his exhale. 

“Zayne is clueless.” Rafayel said, his lips quirking upwards, “For someone so smart, he rarely knows what’s going on. Don’t count on him for answers. Come to me instead.”

His face was on the other side of you now, and you turned to argue in defense of your friend. But Rafayel was already looking at you, smirking. He continued, silencing your protest before it began, “Sylus is a glutton. Don’t give him anything you aren’t willing to give up completely. Unless you want him following you around like a lost little puppy, don’t bother with him.”

The spark of irritation you had felt for Zayne is only stoked higher. You didn’t know Sylus well, if at all, but he hardly deserved to be talked down to like that. A sense of defensiveness swelled in your chest, and you were scowling at him, open mouth ready to argue.

“And Xavier’s a liar.” Rafayel continued, no one in the house safe from his critique it seemed, “He wants to train? Yeah, right. He wants to hoard your time. He’s worse than Sylus sometimes, and he’s twice as jealous.”

You scoff, believing now that Rafayel was making stuff up just to confuse you, “Jealous? Of what?”

The hand holding your wrist and glissading across the canvas stopped, and the grip tightened. Rafayel’s alexandrite eyes turned on you like the sight of a bow, and an arrow was knocked. 

His other arm wrapped around your waist, sliding until his hand was firmly gripping your hip and squeezing until it almost hurt. A darkness brewed in his eyes, expanding like cold-front of an ocean storm. 

You swallowed, suddenly feeling pinned. Worse than this morning when Xavier had crowded you up against the countertop. That felt like being cornered. This felt like being snared. You were tangled in a net and the more you moved the worse it got. 

“Of anything and everything that takes your attention away from him.” Rafayel’s words brushed against you, his lips so close. 

You were breathing fast, ensnared in the multicolor of his eyes and the heat from him leaching into you.

“He’s bad at sharing.” Rafayel looked slightly amused at the rabbit-like wideness to your eyes, “The worst of us.”

“I didn’t…” Nonsense is all that could escape you. “I don’t want to get between.”

“Oh cutie .” Rafayel’s hand around your wrist slid down, flicking the paintbrush out of your fingers and letting it clatter to the floor. He grabbed your palm and drew it close. You were completely wrapped up in him now. A little guppy tangled up in the paralyzing fingers of an anemone. “ Are you sure about that?”

Your heart stopped, “What?”

Rafayel grinned and suddenly the ear-popping pressure of his presence backed off. The arm around your waist slid back to settle benignly at your spine, and the hand clenched around yours eased. He blinked and the storm in his eyes was replaced with sunny playfulness, “Don’t worry so much. You’ll get wrinkles.”

You could feel him dismiss this, and frowned, “No, what do you mean? I’m not trying to get in between you guys. I’m not that kind of person.”

“You’re not? That’s a shame.” Rafayel took a step back and you felt you might fall off your stool without him for a moment. He placed his hands on his hips, taunting you, “It’s too bad you’re already there.”

“What’s that mean?” You stand up, “If I’m causing problems I’ll leave. Is Xavier mad at me? Is that why he–”

“He what?” Rafayel’s chin lowered.

You huffed, “Zayne kissed me goodbye this morning. On the forehead, nothing crazy. And Xavier wanted one too. Only he…he wanted a slightly different one.”

Rafayel scoffs, “He tries to act so cool, but he’s so predictable sometimes. I knew he’d break first. Look cutie, stop thinking of us like some four-way engagement that you’ll somehow put a wedge in. Stop tiptoeing and overthinking.”

“I’m just here to clean. “ You raise your hands in a wall in front of you, “I got put on leave at my job and kicked out of my apartment. That’s the only reason why I’m here. I think you’re overthinking this.”

Rafayel crossed his arms, “Oh, yeah? Well, the last two housekeepers lasted less than a week each. Xavier never even saw them, and you can bet Zayne wasn’t giving them little good-bye kisses. Sylus avoided them like the plague and when he did see them  he made sure to put the fear of God into them. Regardless of how you got here, you’re here now. And it’s different.”

You cross your arms, an unconscious movement to seek some comfort. It was overwhelming to imagine that all four of them liked you enough to not only keep you around but to want you here. 

“Well, save your declarations of love until after I clean your studio.” You say, hoping to deflect some of this pressure. “I’ll be sure to move everything.”

Rafayel laughs and steps forward, reaching out like he might place his hand on the side of your face, but changing his mind at the last second. “Just let me know if you change any of them. So you can sign them too.”

__________________

You spend Tuesday in Rafayel’s studio. He spends a remarkable amount of time not painting. Lazing about on the couch, or flipping through sketchbooks. He mumbles to himself and scrolls on his phone, and only precious few moments are spent actually working. 

It confounds you that he can be such a popular and famous artist if this is how his days look. 

You don’t know why you're irritated with him, and when you first enter his studio its with the intention to wreck it. It wouldn’t occur to you later that anger is just the replacement for confusion, and frankly– embarrassment. 

It takes less than an hour for you to change your mind. You meticulously flatten out the crumpled pieces of sketchbook paper and lay them in a stack. Trash is still thrown away, and the floor is swept in piecemeal. You pick up tubes of paint, wipe beneath them, and place them exactly where they were before. Canvases are shifted to sweep behind and then put back.

Your threat of moving everything turns into an apologetic, agonizing amount of effort to not do that. There is love in Rafayel’s work, and it feels too wrong to try and wound him that way. 

So, you clean the studio and it looks the same as when you started sans scattered papers, trash, dust bunnies, etc. It’s all around just a shinier, more pristine chaos. 

Rafayel tries on more than one occasion to get you to help him again. He lures you in with inquiries about color choices. Which paint brush is your favorite? Can you hold this for me? Here, stand there, you can be my model. No, don’t pout at me miss housekeeper. I’m serious!

The tempestuous aura he had yesterday is gone, replaced by a more familiar pestering. It’s easier to deal with, and honestly a bit fun. He pouts so childishly when you deny him. 

It takes you all day to finish the studio and you’re so exhausted you text Zayne you can’t make dinner and then promptly pass out. 

Wednesday morning rolls around and you wake up before your alarm. Your heart is racing and stomach fluttering. You’d promised to train with Xavier again today before your appointment with Zayne. Your last interaction with the blond has left you unsure of what to expect, and you’re equal parts confused and buzzing with anticipation. 

Xavier knocks on your door and smiles at you with that blinding sweetness. You’re dressed and ready this time, and follow him to the gym like nothing has changed. Had it?

He pushes a little harder today. Like he wanted to make sure you feel it. It distracts you enough to all but forget about the last time Xavier was close to you. The possession in his touch and how you knew for almost certain it wasn’t because of his feelings for Zayne. 

You’re panting and tired by the time you’re done, and only when you're nearly ready to tap out does Xavier relent. 

Xavier tells you you're done and you collapse out of your plank onto the padded floor below. You hear his soft chuckle from above and then his gentle fingers nudging your hair to the side. They trail downward to palm at your shoulder and he helps you up. 

“You did well.” He crooned. His crooked fingers lift your chin and place your water bottle to your lips, letting you drink– keeping you there until he’s satisfied you’ve hydrated enough. 

“Thanks.” You pant in between gulps of air. Leveling out, you go to stand but Xavier is there, offering his hand which you take. He hauls you up and keeps his hand in yours like you might be unsteady. It’s not until you look at your clasped hands that he lets go. 

You part ways and the rest of the morning plays out the same as it had before, only Zayne isn’t there. A note and a text both letting you know he had to leave early. His pretty handwriting on a little sticky note which also assures you that he has eaten. 

You make breakfast and Xavier eats his portion. He thanks you, puts his dish in the sink and then comes to your side. His hand sliding across your back to keep you in place. 

Xavier’s laugh is low as you look up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth. He tilts his head, “Does it make you uncomfortable? If it’s not Zayne?”

Your mouth falls open, “No. I mean…maybe. It’s new. That’s all.”

“New.” He repeats the word like he's tasting it. Letting it mull in his mouth as his brows tilt downward. He blinks and focuses back on you, “So then– one, or two?”

Your stomach flips and you keep your clammy hands clenched, “One.”

Xavier’s smile could blind someone someday. It’s a hazard and should be regulated, surely. You nearly stumble and the genuine eagerness that appears in his face. The teasing and amusement melting into something so deeply, and emphatically pure.

He happily lowers his head down for you, closing his eyes like you might bestow him a crown. You can’t help but laugh, for all his boyish charms he’s still ridiculously tall and has to practically kneel so you can kiss his forehead. 

Call it a spark of insanity, or perhaps a lack of self-preservation, you step forward, placing your foot in between his. You pinch his chin in between your thumb and forefinger, maneuvering as you wish as you tilt him up slightly. 

His eyes open and he looks so caught off guard that he might faint. You lean in, and Xavier’s breathing stops. 

When you press a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose, a ragged vulnerable exhale leaves him. Like you’ve wounded him, but simultaneously blessed him too. A too-raw expression making you wonder if you miscalculated. 

“Only one, right?” You ask, all the bravado leaving you at the sudden flash in his eyes. You can almost see him debate, closing the distance himself as his eyes flick down to your lips before going back up again. 

He closes his eyes and nods, “Right. Only a normal amount of luck then.”

You laugh lightly as Xavier straightens up, “Be careful, yeah?”

Xavier pauses to give you another affirming nod and then leaves. 

When you’re alone in the kitchen, you exhale like you’ve just run a marathon and continue with preparing the other two’s breakfast. You’ve learned by now to just put them in containers for whenever they decide to eat. 

Maybe Rafayel was right, and you need to stop overthinking. It did feel remarkably good to just….enjoy. 

You realize you should have asked Xavier for a ride when you realize you don’t have your own transportation less than thirty minutes later. It pains you to order a taxi– the price alone makes your chest hurt, but it's not like it's your last dime anymore. Which is nice. 

The ride to the hospital is spent with its normal amount of pre-appointment nerves. Zayne is ruthless when it comes to your health, and it doesn’t help that you can’t exactly lie to him and tell him anymore. Not when he knows every meal you eat and the amount of sleep you’re getting. 

You greet the receptionist and wait less than five minutes before Zayne comes out to get you. He’s wearing an emerald button up and charcoal vest under his white coat today, and he looks so very good in green. The lab coat doesn’t hurt either. 

His office doubles as an exam room for his patients, and you go over to the table and sit on the crunchy paper when he directs you to. 

The first part is always the same. Vitals. Heart Rate, O2, Blood pressure. He takes a small blood sample and listens to your heart with a good old-fashioned stethoscope. There was plenty of technology that made stethoscopes unnecessary in many cases, but Zayne always said he liked to do things with his own hands, and listen with his own ears.

“How have you been sleeping?” He asks as he scribbles down a note with the stylus on the tablet next to him. “Any more disruptions?”

You shake your head, “I’m sleeping fine. I hardly wake up at night anymore.”

“That’s good.” Zayne replies coolly, “I’m reluctant to prescribe my heart patients with sleeping medication.”

“How are you sleeping?” You turn back to him, “You’ve been at the hospital a lot lately.”

Zayne’s hazel eyes flicker up to you and he shakes his head, “I go where I’m needed. There’s been more fluctuations lately.”

“Ah, I see.” You reply lamely. “That doesn’t mean you don’t need sleep. Are you still sleeping in your office?”

Zayne’s eyes narrow, “I believe this is your examination. Not mine.”

“I worry. That’s all.” You reply quickly. “So, what’s the prognosis, doctor Zayne? How long do I have?”

“I hate those jokes, you know that.” Zayne condemns with an icy look, “You’re doing well. Your vitals are slightly better than the last appointment, and the preliminary blood work is acceptable.”

You nod as Zayne goes over to his desk and you hop down from the exam table to follow him. He places his tablet down next to his computer and then turns back to you, “I’d like you to eat more iron, and make sure you’re resting when you can.”

“Xavier kissed me.”

It’s not the reply you intended, but it’s what came out. Zayne doesn’t physically react beyond looking up at you sharply. 

“What?”

You pick at your nails and scramble to pick up the pieces of your sudden confession. “It wasn’t too crazy or anything! He wanted a goodbye kiss too! And then he did it twice, and then this morning I kissed him back.”

Zayne was silent. His middle fingertip tapping against the lacquered wood of his desk was the only movement besides his eyes. They searched your face and then closed.

“I didn’t want to keep it from you.” You say quickly, “He said… and Rafayel– I’m sorry.”

Oh god, you fucked it up. You crossed a line. You were a homewrecker! You’d crushed Zayne’s heart by kissing his boyfriend and you’d let Rafaye convince you it was ok! You were definitely fucking his studio up now. No canvas was safe. 

“I see.” His voice in a deadly timbre, and you freeze. He approaches you slowly, a deadly prowl like the languid elegance of a jaguar. “Did he make you uncomfortable?

You lick at your lips, feeling suddenly dry, “No. Not really.”

Zayne nods and reaches out, holding your chin and resting his thumb against your bottom lip. The coolness of his touch makes your knees wobble. Zayne never touches you. Never initiates anything beyond chaste and familial contact. This is…

“Was it here?” Zayne asks, eyes locked on where his thumb pulls down your lower lip ever so slightly. 

You try not to move, afraid if you do he’ll flee. This delicate blossom of intimacy he’s given you too precious to lose. 

“N-no.” You whisper, barely moving your lips. His touch becomes a bit firmer, pressing into both your top and bottom lip and you resist the urge to kiss it properly. You’re suddenly very aware of your tongue too. 

“Where then?” Zayne’s whispering now, reserved still like he’s afraid to know the answer. He lets his head drift away from your chin, the backs of his fingers brushing against your cheek.

“M-my cheek first.” You explain, confessing like a child to their teacher. You felt like you were in trouble, but being honest would keep you out of a worse punishment.  Reaching up, you point to the place on your jaw where Xavier had kissed first. “Then…” You swallow, “Then my neck.”

You point that out too, and Zayne’s eyes follow the movement. 

“And you?” Zayne cups your jaw and swipes his thumb over where Xavier had kissed over two days ago. “Where did you kiss him?”

“On the nose. This morning.” You confess. 

Zayne blinks, the gears in his labyrinthine mind turning. You wouldn’t wager a bet to even guess what he was thinking. Flip flopping between fear and tenuous hope. 

His other hand goes to rest on your upper arm, and draws you in. 

“Zayne,” You whisper, moving along with him as he uses the hand on your jaw to tilt your face up. “Are you…Are you mad at me?”

Zayne replies with a hum, “I’m not sure.”

A stab to your gut, you scramble for more apologies. Willing to fall on your sword to gain his forgiveness again. 

“Don’t misinterpret me,” Zayne says a bit firmer, “You’re free to do as you wish. As is Xavier. I just…find myself…” 

He exhales and it sounds like it shakes, but you chock that up to your delirious imagination. 

“I didn’t want to cross that line with you.” Zayne sounds like he’s talking more to himself than to you. “I wanted to keep things professional, so you weren’t uncomfortable. But…but I find myself thinking of it more and more lately. Dreaming of it.”

You sink into his hold, the fear of his anger evaporating at his ragged words. “Dreaming of what?”

The hand on your jaw moves back down to place the tips of his middle and forefinger at the curve of your cupid’s bow, drawing a line down to the corner. “Can I have this spot? Can I ?”

You're suddenly dizzy, and worry for a moment that the taxi you rode here in is in a ditch and you're living out some pre-death fantasy, high on chemicals just before you die. 

Zayne’s head tilts to the side, taking you in. The moment stretches on for ages as your mind– sticky with his honeyed words– slowly begins to understand. He wants to kiss you. He’s asking to kiss you. 

The moment the realization hits you’re nodding and shifting forward, but Zayne is already there. Sliding his hand across your jaw and into your hair, intertwining his fingers as much as he can without grabbing it. 

His lips are warm as they press against you, pushing and pushing until you’re reeling from the pressure. He shifts and you follow, a slow sweet kiss sliding down into something richer. 

Hungry is the word you think of when you feel his lips ply at yours, opening you up from closed-mouth pecks into something more open and wet. Your first taste of him is so deafening you don’t even realize what it is, your mind three steps behind your body. 

Cool and sweet. Like soft butter mints. 

You wonder what you must taste like to him as he draws his teeth against your bottom lip. It must be good because he groans like he’s been wounded, and dives back in with more fervor and heat than before. 

The backs of your legs knock into his desk, a picture frame clattering over and onto the floor. It goes unheard and unnoticed as Zayne’s hands leave your hair to claw at your leg, pulling you up to sit on the edge of the desk. 

You whine into his mouth. A willingly and eager participant as you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close. A hedonistic thrall that entwines you both.

 A man possessed. Completely overcome and rendered down to nothing but physicality. His brain must be off, and you were glad it was. Lucid Zayne would never shift the books next to your hips to the side. Never hook his fingers under your knee to ply them apart so he could fit between them. 

He’d never use the wide expanse of his shoulders to hunch over you, slowly but surely pressing you further and further into the desktop. 

“ So sweet.” He groans under his breath and it slides down your spine like the hit of a drug. Settling in your core and you can’t help the breathy moan you answer him with. 

Your mewl is met with a roll of his hips. And it’s the most mind-numbing friction and simultaneously not enough. You cling to him as he grinds again, caught up in his own mind-numbing sensations. 

“We can’t…” You have just enough sense to whisper, remembering where you are. Zayne growls and drags his lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, sucking a mark onto your pulse. 

Zayne doesn’t seem to care. Continuing to move his clothed hips against yours until you’re close to tears. Close to begging him to just shift some clothes to the side. Move whatever he has to to get closer. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Like a death knell on the room, Zayne freezes mid thrust. His hips pressed firmly against yours. You’re holding onto his shoulders for dear life, wrinkling his pristine, white coat and his glasses are halfway down his nose. 

“ Dr. Zayne, your next patient is here. I’ve been messaging.”

“Shit.” You curse at the sound of the kind, but timid nurse on the other side of the door. 

“Give me five minutes.” Zayne answers, voice even– like he’d caught up reading a book and not tearing you apart. 

“Zayne.” You say quietly, unsure of what to do now.

He stands up and takes you with him, sitting up on his desk and moving to correct your shifted clothing. With a stern expression, he preens your hair and wipes at your face. 

“I got carried away.” He sounds guilty and you can’t help but laugh.

“I didn’t mind.” You say, hoping he’ll smile. He does. 

He adjusts his clothing and fixes his glasses, “We shouldn’t do this at the hospital.”

You laugh again and shake your head, holding his hand as he helps you off the desk. You help him pick up the scattered decor and set the photo back up. An old photo of when he’d graduated college, his parents standing next to him. 

“Are you alright? I didn’t–” He clears his throat, “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You firmly shake your head, “No you didn’t hurt me. Just the opposite. Unless you start spouting about this being a mistake. That would hurt.”

Zayne reaches out, petting your hair and placing his forehead to the top of yours, “Never. We got carried away, but this was not a mistake.”

“Good,” You reply. “I should go though, before she comes back.”

“Right.” Zayne looks physically reluctant to step away, but he manages it. “I’ll be home for dinner. I’ll see you then.”

You squeeze his hand, the last part of him to let go and then step away. “I’ll see you then.”

__________________________

You’re giddy the whole ride home. Buzzing with returned affection while simultaneously straining under unreleased tension. Any discomfort forgotten until you get to your room. 

You rush up the stairs, thankful no one else is around to see you flee. Locking the door behind you, you throw yourself down onto your bed, fully intending on sliding your hand down your pants as soon as you can. The remnants of Zayne’s touch enough to make you heart-poundingly desperate. 

Only you feel something under you. And you move to see what it is. 

A black box, wrapped in satiny black wrapping and a pretty crimson bow on top. You check for a tag, but find none. A little confused, you open it. Sliding it open and finding another box within. Only this one is more industrial and familiar. A gun case for a handgun. You flick open the latch and open it, surprised to see a 9mm handgun. Carbon black and trimmed with red. The handle and barrel are carved with a pretty scrolling script and down the lines of it are embedded with shiny red resin. It's tasteful. It's elegant. 

Checking the safety you lift it from its cushiony box and examine it closer. When you lift it however, you hear soft tinkling. And see a charm as been hooked to it– a juvenile addition to a very pretty gun. 

At the end of the chain is the cutesy head of a black cat. Smiling and round. It looked like something you’d win in a claw machine. And surely could not have come with a gun like this. 

You look back into the gun case and see a note, which had been placed underneath the firearm. 

A single folded card.

An extra claw for the kitten.

S

You huff in amusement and examine the gun again. Did Sylus really get you a gun? It’s extravagant and a bit odd, but you like it. It’s been a long time since you’d held a gun, and the weight of it was familiar and a bit exhilarating. 

A thought occurred to you as you placed the gun back into its case. Were you being wooed right now?

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[queen-of-deans-booty]

Unable To Hide

Pairing: Castiel x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: hiding an injury, blood loss, fluff at the end

Summary: You return home from a hunt all bloodied and bruised. Hiding it from the brothers is going to be easy but hiding it from Castiel? That’s a whole other game that you’re not ready to play.

Square Filled: distracting them with affection (2023) for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Don’t think about how Dean is gonna kill me. Just get to the Bunker and everything will be okay. As you drive down the desolate road to the Bunker, you look down at the seat that’s covered in your blood. Oh, Dean is so gonna kill you. If he doesn’t know you stole the Impala, he will as soon as you pull into the garage. If he doesn’t know you went on a hunt by yourself, he will when he sees the blood in his car.

You don’t even want to know what Castiel will do. He loves you so much and never wants to see you hurt even though it was your own fault. You didn’t know how many werewolves there would be, and you got in over your head. You take a deep breath and feel a gush of blood spill over your fingers. As much as you try to stop it, you can’t keep the entire wound covered.

What you thought was one werewolf turned out to be five in a pack, and they were all pissed at you for picking on one of their own. They got their claws in you, ripped your skin to shreds, and broke you down but you managed to kill all five of them. The reason why you took this case by yourself is because you wanted to prove to Sam and Dean that you’re capable of doing a hunt alone. You wanted them to take you more seriously as a hunter but now you’re hurt and you won’t hear the end of it.

Dean will be pissed you got his car fucked up, Sam will be worried about you, and Castiel… You two started dating six months ago, and he’s always been overprotective of you. Even before you two started dating. He refuses to let you out of his sight on hunts. That’s another reason why you went on this hunt alone. You wanted to prove that you didn’t need an angel watching over you twenty-four-seven.

Apparently, you do.

You pull as gently as you can into the garage, but you end up jerking when you go over the small bump by the door. You hiss in pain as more blood comes gushing out. You turn off the car and slide out of it, struggling to even stand up. The more you do, the more blood comes out. You put a bloody hand on the window and close the door as quietly as you can.

If only you can get to the bathroom, you can stitch yourself up and crawl into bed. Your main mission now is to hide just how badly you’re hurt in front of the brothers and Castiel. You’re sure they’re wondering where you are by now. You answered their first call and told them you were out and would be back late tonight but you didn’t give them any details on what you were doing.

How the hell am I gonna hide this from them? Luck is on your side when you spot Sam’s jacket hanging by the door that leads into the Bunker. It’s big enough to completely envelop you. You grab the hose and turn the water on to wash away the blood on your hands. The only indication that you’re not okay is the ghostly look on your face, dazed eyes, and shaky hands. All easily explainable.

After taking a moment to collect yourself, you stumble into the kitchen. Every step is a painful jab into your side. You can feel your skin splitting even more. You want to scream and cry but you have to keep your mouth shut if you want to hide it from everyone else. You walk into the library and lean against the bookshelf as a way to give yourself a break.

Castiel walks in and smiles when he sees you. You immediately stand up straight despite the need to cry in pain. You might be an idiot for not accepting his help, but you need to prove to them that you can do this. They’re such experienced and skilled hunters. All you want to do is be able to do what they do. You joined Team Free Will only two years ago because you were such a shitty hunter and almost got yourself killed.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Where you’ve been?” Castiel walks over to you and leans down to kiss you. “I missed you.”

“Oh, you know. Just around. I gotta go.”

You can’t walk past him because he is standing in your way, and you don’t have enough energy to push him away.

“You look sick. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m just not feeling well.” Castiel raises his hand to heal you but you jerk back. Again, another sharp pain that makes you want to cry. “I’m okay. Seriously. I’m just gonna lie down.”

“I can heal you.”

“No, it’s okay.”

If you know Castiel, he won’t let things go when it comes to you. You have to distract him even though you know it’s going to bring you so much pain to do so. You remove your hand from your side and put it on Castiel’s chest knowing the blood is going to run down your body since there is nothing putting pressure on the wound.

“I’m okay,” you whisper.

You lean up and kiss him as a way to distract him. It pains you to do this but there is no way you’re gonna tell him you’re injured. They’ll figure it out when they see Dean’s bloodied car but by then, you’ll have come up with a better excuse of where you’ve been. You slide both arms around his neck just as his hands grip your waist.

Right. Over. Your. Wound.

You yelp loudly against his mouth and pull away from him, and he grips your waist as a way to steady you. You can’t hide this now. The pain is too much.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really. I’m sorry. I’m gonna pass out now so you should catch me.”

Just then, your eyes roll to the back of your eyes and you fall against Castiel’s body.

“Dean! Sam!” Castiel yells as he catches you. Both brothers come rushing into the library. “She just passed out.”

“Why is there blood on the ground?”

Castiel looks down to see a pool of blood next to your feet, and blood staining Sam’s jacket. Sam walks over and peels the layers of clothes back to reveal the multiple gaping wounds.

“Get her to the infirmary. You can heal her there.”

You’re not sure how long you’re passed out for but when you wake up, you can see all three men by the door to the infirmary whispering to each other. You don’t feel like Death but that’s probably because Castiel healed you of your injuries. You’re still out of it due to the blood loss which he can’t heal. You’ll need fluids and plenty of rest for that to be fixed.

“Why the hell did you let her go on a hunt?”

“We didn’t let her do anything! We didn’t even know she left.”

“She’s lucky she survived. It was like a blood bath in the car,” Dean pouts.

“I wanted to prove to you I can be a good hunter,” you say quietly.

All three of them look at you, and the brothers leave to give you and Castiel some time alone. They’ll yell at you when you have enough strength to take it. The angel walks over to your bed and sits on the edge of it.

“What you did was reckless. Five werewolves by yourself? Not to mention Dean is pissed because you got blood all over his car.”

“I didn’t know there were five in the beginning. By the time I realized, it was too late. I’m sorry. I just wanted to be a good hunter.”

Castiel reaches over and tucks your hair behind your ear. “You can be one but not if you go into situations like that alone. What if you died? How do you think we’d all feel?”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle.

“Just focus on getting better right now. If you want to be a better hunter, there are ways to go about that. Train with Sam and Dean. They’ll help you.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Are they mad at me?”

“More worried than mad. They’ll yell at you and scold you, but just know they’re not doing it to hurt you. It’s because they care so much.” You nod and Castiel stands up. “Now, would you like to watch a movie?”

“Only if you’ll watch it with me.”

Castiel scoops you bridal-style, careful not to hurt you further. You snuggle into his chest, grateful you have such a loving boyfriend who understands what it means to be part of this life.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[alnair-jpg]

Olympics AU Info dump!

First, I am blown away by how much love the series is getting, thank you all so much! I do really enjoy all the comments and reactions in the tags. Know that they all delight me and the only reason I don’t reply to everything is because there are so many! But I read them all 💕

General questions:

Can you draw the designs or concepts? Write fanfic in this AU?

Yes of course! I’d love for you to tag me if you post them so I can see

Do they all know each other?

At first, I would say no- with the exception of Nico and Will (they’re developing a whole backstory in my head that I cannot and will not stop.). But they all meet in the Olympic Village after the opening ceremonies and quickly become friends. They all try their best to attend each other’s events. (Someone please tell me how Percabeth becomes a thing. Please. 🙏 )

Why didn’t Percy win gold?

Percy was an Olympic medalist in swimming before moving to diving. After competing in several swimming events and feeling like they were all just small variations of the same thing, he wanted more of a challenge. He chose diving to stay rooted in to the water, but to add a new dimension to his bodily awareness and control.

What’s Annabeth and Luke’s rivalry?

They most definitely trained together, and it was Luke’s skill that motivated Annabeth to aim for the Olympics. But, she wanted to compete for her home country, Greece, which Luke thought was just a shortcut since there was a clearer path to an Olympic team in a smaller country. Annabeth is constantly trying to prove to him that she would have made it to the top of the sport either way.

Also, apologies to the IRL fencers out there for the inconsistency. I know fencing is a gendered sport, and Annabeth’s gear/style are inconsistent, please forgive the oversight ☺️🫶

Volleyball?

The whole Hunters of Artemis are a volleyball team (that apparently has no country 😅). Thalia ends up the captain. When Reyna moves on from tennis they welcome her with open arms.

Rejected sports

Will as a runner. Canonically, he’s super fast, but just having him as a sprinter didn’t fit with his personality.

Will as a pole vaulter. Specifically the guy that lost because he was ‘blessed a little too much’ and knocked down the bar. I will not explain further.

Will as a gymnast. He was this || close to being a gymnast essentially modeled after Steven Nedoroscik, I had the sketch and everything. (I shared it here!) But when an anyonomous ask clued me into the sick medical team uniforms it all fell into place from there. (Thank you no-longer-anon @helyeahmangocheese !)

Percy in anything equestrian related. I see him not having the patience for all the formality of it all, but he definitely crashes Hazel’s shows and chats up all the competition (the horses.)

Annabeth on a sailing team. Also, related to that, Reyna on a sailing team. It was a fun idea, especially for Reyna and her history with pirates but ultimately it was really hard to capture in a few illustrations.

Nico in several winter sports. For consistency mostly. He could fit for a lot of winter sports - ice skating and snowboarding are my personal favorites.

Leo as a shooter. He would most definitely build his own gear and make tweaks to his weapon. Which would get him immediately disqualified.

Jason in discus. Jason as a basketball player. Golf is just… fitting. 😂

Other Characters I’ve been thinking about

(that may have art in the works… and may not actually be athletes!)

Clarisse

Meg

Grover

Rachel

Lester / Apollo

Mr. D

Chiron

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1846

Chapter 21:

After the sole topic about witch hunters and the bitter past, you all chose to try and get some sleep; needing all the energy you could recover for the next trial.

With the sky being always night, it was hard to keep track of time, and if it weren't for the exhausting trials; one would have trouble sleeping.

While the others slept close to one another, some laying on their jackets for some insulation against the cold floor; you had chosen to leave, for a little bit.

You knew not to stray from the road, but sleep would not come to you, and you needed some alone time.

You barely had one lately, with everyone being on top of one another all the time.

The moon was almost and completely full. Its beautiful white light seemed to follow you; illuminating your path. Your steps were quiet, and you eventually came to a halt, leaning your back against a tree.

You closed your eyes as you let the moon shower you with light, offering a cold warmth you could never explain but always welcomed.

So many nights have you spent in a similar position, neck and back arched to the full moon above you. Endless hours had you spent bathing in its white light, swearing you could hear it talk to you through some ethereal plane.

Some nights, you would hum and sing with the moon as your audience; a silent observer that never judged you, never tried to harm you.

Even when you need it the most, it chooses to grace you with power and help you escape your bonds; showing just how terrifying its power could be when it was passed through you.

Your mind wandered and you gently hummed a tune, the lyrics a mere whisper traveling through the night; not wishing to awake or scare the others.

Come little children

I'll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment

Come little children

The time's come to play

Here in my garden of shadows

Your white magic had come alive in your hands, dancing between your fingers as if responding to your song.

Yet before you cold continue; you felt a presence close by and your guard was immediately raised.

"I remember that song of yours," Agatha said as she walked out of the shadows and towards you.

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling your heart beating faster for a moment as you thought it was someone else.

"It led us into a lot of trouble that night," you reminded her, memories of your adventures flashing into your mind.

Agatha waved her hand dismissively. "It's not our fault those children thought to take a peak. It was way past their bedtime. The fault lies to the parents."

Her excuse brought a smile on your face, having missed her view of the world. Sometimes, your thoughts could get the best of you, and you failed to see the light in this world; like the people that feared the shadows whenever a new moon was in the sky.

Sometimes, you felt as if you were laying in the bottom of a deep pit; forced to face dark creatures fuelled by your emotions and thoughts; only to always climb to the surface renewed; reborn.

But when you were with Agatha, those things almost never happened. Her unique way of seeing the world had kept you focused, her presence a life vest to keep you aflot during dangerous waters... her kisses and touches, burning you from inside, making your magic core glow so powerful that no shadow ever had the chance to manifest.

Your smile remained, and you silently admired her beneath the moonlight as you stood next to one another, bodies barely touching but equally tempted.

Her expression changed into a more serious one. "Why didn't you call for me?" She suddenly asked, earning a puzzled expression from you. "When you were at the mercy of those witch hunters. Why didn't you call for me?"

You glanced to the side, ashamed of confessing your true intentions.

Time might have passed since your last meeting, but your body remained equally strong. You had the power, a little spell, that would alert Agatha of your presence. You had sworn to her under a blood red full moon that you would use it, should you ever need her help.

You never did, always hesitating; feeling you would pull her away from whatever goal she had in mind. You were afraid you would be a burden, to a woman you sometimes wondered if she would ever come back to you; after all those times, you refused to join her on a mission.

Familiar long fingers grabbed your chin and forced you to look straight into the face of the woman you had fallen in love with, whose initials felt carved on your heart; forever claimed by her.

"You remember I don't like asking more than twice, isn't that right?" She asked you, cutting any nicknames she had for you; a sign of how serious she was.

You tried to nod, but her grip on your chin remained. In the end, you took a deep breath and gathered your courage.

"I didn't want to burden you. Not when I knew how focused you were in mastering the darkhold, " you confessed, making her realize around what time period you fell victim to those barbarians that dared to mark your skin... only she was allowed to do that to you.

If Agatha still had powers, they would have been going crazy around her. She was pissed and you could see it by the darkness in her eyes, by the way she gripped your chin and the way her breathing changed.

In the end, she let you go and stormed a few feet away in an attempt to calm down. If she could use magic, she would have long blasted a few trees around you; it always helped when things were burnt or destroyed.

"This is not the promise you made to me, Y/N," she called you out by your name, one finger pointed at you.

"What would you have me do, Agatha?" You questioned, feeling your emotions getting the best of you. It was a full moon, after all. Y, so you can murder them in cold blood? Add more names to your never-ending list?" Your tone started to rise faintly, doing your best to keep it low and not alert the others.

"Yes," she answered as if it was not obvious enough before marching your way. "You are mine, Y/N," she hissed as she now stood in front of you. "And I protect what is mine..." she took a deep breath. "What is precious to me"

You parted your lips in surprise, never seeing it coming.

Agatha had outloud claimed you as hers, had confessed just how much you meant to her, and she meant it. Every. Single. Word.

You found no words to argue, and whatever anger was once rising had disappeared as if there was nothing there.

In a moment of weakness or perhaps desperation, you chose to act with your body. Your hands grabbed her cheeks and you pulled her towards you, sealing her lips with yours.

Agatha was startled for a moment before she followed, quickly claiming the lead from you by sucking your lips with an inner need. Her kiss spoke of hunger, lust, and need to be with you; to be reminded of the unique flavour your lips always had.

You let her lead, eagerly parting your lips to let her tongue enter. One hand went into her thick hair, fingers tangled with dark locks as you held her tightly; trying somehow to balance the power dynamics between the two of you.

Your back was pressed harder against the tree, one of her hands holding your waist as her body was pushed more against yours.

Eventually, you both needed air and with some reluctance you let each other's lips go; but your hands remained on one another.

She immediately buried her nose to the crook of your neck, continuing what she started by kissing the soft spot of your neck, making you see stars and reminding you she had not forgotten how to play you like an instrument.

You gasped faintly, your grip into her dark locks only increasing, and you forced your eyes closed; trying to fight the feeling of building up pleasure, your body succumbing to her lips and her roaming touch.

Agatha did not continue the torture for long, having taken her dose by finally being able to enjoy you in peace. She would have much preferred to do it in a warm house, preferably on a soft bed, but she had to be patient for now.

Her lips trailed ghostly marks across your collarbone before settling faintly on your lips. The peck that followed was quick, and only then did she stop and pull faintly back.

You looked at her, lips faintly bruised as your noses almost touched. You let go of her hair and instead cupped her cheek tenderly.

"You have no idea how long I have been waiting to hear you say that," you confessed, slightly out of breath.

"What, claiming you?" She questioned as she quickly connected the dots. She gently pushed a strand away from your face. "Sugar, I made you vow to me and call me when in trouble. I made you bleed upon a dark pact. Wasn't this enough of a sign?"

Your cheeks felt slightly flustered. "Should be?" You dared to question, earning a look from her that reminded you not to ruin the mood. "I know it should... but I always wondered... especially now, with Rio..." Your voice trailed off.

"Rio is in the past, hon," she told you in a sweet voice. "You are the present and hopefully the future. That is, if you don't turn me down after all this"

You could not help but chuckle faintly. "I think me agreeing to walk this shitty sadistic road for a second time should be enough of an answer"

Without waisting another time, you moved your hands and pulled Agatha into a much needed hug. You pressed her tightly against you, your nose buried to the crook of her neck; almost hidden beneath her thick locks.

You felt her hugging you back with equal need, your presence easing the turmoil within her heart. She rested her chin on your shoulder, eyes closed as your scent overwhelmed her senses and momentarily clouded her mind.

"I am with you, Ags. From now until my last day on this cursed world. I vow to you in the name of my mother" you confessed.

Agatha stared with wide eyes in front of her, lips parted faintly in silent surprise. Your words were serious, she could tell, but she could also sense the magic within them; an invisible silent spell bowed to a promise.

She could not help but glance at the full moon as you vowed sacredly to your mother, a name you rarely let it leave your lips...for when it did, it meant business.

Chapter 22

[empress-ghoul]

Rising Waters, part six

141 x witch!reader | old gods of appalachia au cw: supernatural elements, mentions of religion, monsters (kind of), implied/referenced stalking, obsessive behavior

You could feel it in your bones, that awful itch that screamed at you to banish whatever had come onto the property. From where you laid, bound in chains, you were helpless. A sitting duck, a rabbit in a snare, waiting for the hunter to come and bleed you dry.

Price had been the only one to show you some semblance of kindness after the...unpleasantness of the day prior. He seemed to be the voice of reason. But the idea of calling his name like a damsel in distress grated against your nerves and your precious pride.

Still, you had little choice in what else to do, because whatever had passed over the wards was getting closer and did not have good intentions.

You took a breath, bottling your ego. “Price!”

There wasn’t much urgency in your voice, as you made yourself sound meeker than necessary. Demure was the word your mama would have used. You just hoped he came to your call.

The sound of boots against the creaking floors had hope blooming in your chest. It vanished when Soap opened the door, now wearing a white tank top that looked ready to burst at the seams.

“He’s busy,” Soap stated.

You could smell the cigar smoke that said otherwise, but you kept nice — demure.

"I need let up,” you said softly, your lashes fluttering in a rather pathetic attempt to persuade him. "Something’s wrong with the wards.”

Soap smirked, bearing slightly-too-sharp canines, and you knew he'd be no help. The crucifix around his neck that glinted in the low light explained why. This was why you wanted Price. Gaz had proven he would never believe you, Ghost would probably stuff a gag down your throat to shut you up, and Soap was Catholic. He would probably burn you at the stake if given the chance.

Your daddy had dragged you and mama to church on occasion — Christmas and Easter, specifically, as if that would atone for his sins — but it was not the kind of church Soap most likely attended. You understood that the pastor of your mountain church that had baptized you in a river and let rattlesnakes crawl all over him was not the same as Soap’s priest in his fancy church.

But you knew the Bible. You even used it for spells and such. Maybe that could help your case? Probably not.

“Please.” You hated begging. You were better than that. “Something is outside.”

Soap tilted his head at that. “What is it?”

He wasn't concerned or rushed, merely curious.

"I don't know,” you sighed. "Let me up and I can go—“ Soap scoffed. “—look out a window.”

The last bit was said through gritted teeth, frustration and fraying nerves simmering beneath the falling mask of sweetness.

Soap, for his part, seemed at least intrigued, almost convinced yet still taking his time. The sound of heavy footfalls drew his attention away and his head turned away to look at whoever stood just next to the doorway.

“Bonnie says there’s something’ outside,” Soap explained.

You could hear Price hum and your heart began beating a bit faster.

“That right, love?” Price peaked his head in.

Desperation was dripping down your face and beading your brow.

“Please,” you begged. “It’s getting closer.”

You hated begging, but you hated it even more when Price came next to the bed and put a hand on your cheek. Was it to comfort you? Calm you down? You weren't sure, but the coolness felt incredible on your flushed skin. For both the chill and persuasion, you keened into his hand and looked up at him through your fluttering eyelashes.

“It’s getting closer,” you whispered.

He watched for a minute. A few precious moments in which the thing got closer and that itch got worse.

Your body was shaking with anticipation when he finally pulled the key from his pocket. Soap watched, clearly surprised and probably thinking that you had bewitched his captain somehow. You tried to rush to the door when the chains came off, but Price caught your elbow, This would be done military style.

Nothing was spotted from the back or sides, but from the front window, you could all see a man walking up the gravel path.

“You know him?” you asked.

You already knew the answer was yes, since Soap was practically growling, ready to pounce like a dog on prey.

“‘Course we do,” Price huffed. “Meet the second half of the name: Phillip Graves.”

You’d heard of the man, of course, the right hand and enforcer of the company, but seeing him up close was…unsettling. He wore a dark suit and long coat, similar to what Price and them had been wearing the other night. Except Graves’ clothes didn’t seem to fit him quite right. It was too big in some places and too small in others. That was probably why he wore a bigass coat in the early fall heat.

That, and to hide the darkness writhing beneath his skin.

You reach for the knob but Ghost caught your wrist.

“Not happening,” he warned.

“I need to banish him,” you whispered, as if Graves could hear you. “He’s already gotten too close.”

"Let her go, Price said, sounding almost confident in you.

Ghost, Soap, and Gaz gawked at Price.

"What if she runs?” Gaz asked.

Price looked at you, clearly holding back a smirk. “She won't."

You hated that he was right.

Ghost stood by the window with a rifle, hidden the curtain and with Soap at his side. Gaz stood by the door, and Price simply watched.

The air was heavy, charged, feeling similar to how it was just before the storm. You took a breath before going outside, just as Graves approached the porch.

He looked up and gave what looked like a painful and rather forced smile.

“Hello ma’am.” His voice was southern, Texan, but had an odd pull behind it, almost like a record player on its last legs or a fiddle with strings pulled taut. “My name is Phillip Graves and I’m a representative of Shepherd & Graves Mining Combine. “I am looking for four men. They haven’t come by here have they?”

Relief, then confusion flooded your senses. Did he not know who you were? Obviously, it was good that he didn’t, but how did he not know that you were the woman he and his business partner wanted dead?

"Can't say I have,” you sighed. "Don't get many visitors out here, and with that storm a few days ago…” You winced sympathetically. “I would guess they’re with the angels now.”

Graves looked around as he dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief, surveying the land. You knew, all at once, that he did not recognize you but did know that the four men he was looking for were in the house.

Graves finally turned back around, now with somehow even more sweat on his brow. It trickled down past his temples and soaked into his collar. Even from where you stood, you could see his damp eyebrows and sweat-slicked hair.

"You mind if I come inside?” he asked, getting closer. “It is mighty hot out here.”

Phillip Graves put one foot on the bottom step.

"No,” you stated, and the wards began to shimmer and thrum as he dropped the act, his eyes narrowing and smile turning into something akin to a snarl. “You are not welcome here. I close my—“

A gunshot rang out and Graves exploded into a mess of black ichor. It sprayed across the yard and onto the porch steps, looking similar to the black bile Soap had thrown up the day prior. Only this began to writhe and scream now that it was under the sunlight. The pieces moved like worms to desperately get back into one once more. It squelched and screeched, twisting itself into a horde before darting into the woods, now a black undulating mass that would terrorize the wildlife before finding its way beneath the mountain again.

Soap tried to go after it, but was held back by Ghost, who seemed to know that the thing couldn’t be killed.

As you stood on the porch, staring at where the swarm had gone, you thought of running.

Despite what just happened you still weighed your options. You could stay or take your chances and attempt to run back your—

Shit. You still had nothing to run back to. All running would do now is make them angry and put you without protection. You needed to to get rid of them.

They were all staring at you when you turned around. None of them looked particularly impressed or even surprised by what happened, least of all Price, who you had looked to first.

“A thank you’d be nice,” you mumbled, shifting uncomfortably on your feet.

Price looked around then offered a small nod. “Sure.”

The lump that had formed in your throat was uncomfortably shoved down. It took another for you to find your words, because sure wasn’t good enough.

“If I hadn’t banished him, then—“

“We’d’ve handled it,” Ghost finished.

You stared at him, unease settling heavy in your gut. One doesn’t simply “handle” the swarm. It wasn’t some common haint that could be dealt with using iron or silver or a ring of salt.

Your eyes darted between the men as they all watched you with seemingly matching dead eyes, waiting.

“Then why—“

“Wanted to see how you’d handle it.” Price approached you slowly, like you were an animal he’d cornered. “You did a good job, love.”

A shiver went through your whole body when he put his hands on your arms to anchor you to the spot. You would’ve stayed put anyways. No more running. You’d kill these not-men.

Price watched the girl in front of him with a guarded, if not pensive, expression. She had proven to be more useful than any of them truly anticipated. He had to admit, he was initially skeptical about supposed “wards” since it was just nails in a jar. When they had proven to work more than causing a headache – when she blew the thing that occupied the body of what once was Phillip Graves to hell – Price decided she was useful.

The others were still wary, Soap especially, but that was only because of his good Catholic boy upbringing. Gaz and Ghost were coming around. Fortunately, Soap usually went along with whatever Ghost decided, so if his former lieutenant saw use in the witch, then he did too.

“Why don’t we go back inside, love?” Price suggested.

She planted her feet and gave a withering, terrified glare. They could all sense the gears turning in her head.

“He didn’t recognize me.” Her voice trembled with the terror that had taken root.

A nonchalant shrug from Price seemed to only agitate her more, but he was determined to take back control of the situation. He had been getting better at it these days.

“No one knew what you looked like. Just that you were out here, all alone.”

Her eyes flickered to the three men behind him. Of course, she was met with hungry stares. He didn’t have to turn around to know that Gaz’s fingers were twitching and Soap was working his jaw to dust. Ghost had a handle on things, so Price trusted him to keep the other two at bay.

“Sure.” She nodded, trying to put the truth from her head. “It still doesn’t make a whole lotta sense that–”

They all made a noise that could be compared to laughing, and it only made her more uneasy. She shifted her foot back in such a slight way that she assumed none of them noticed.

“Not much sense in any of this,” Ghost reminded her.

Price nodded in agreement, needing to get her off the scent for a while longer. “Let’s go back inside.”

His hand found the small of her back and he savored the shiver he felt go down her spine. There was no fuss when was herded back into the cabin, probably since she knew running would just land her back in chains. Although, it was just instinct for cowardly, skittish little things like her to try to run when no one was looking. Price was confident, though, that it could be nipped in the bud sooner rather than later. They’d come too far for her to ruin this.

For weeks after that botched ritual, they had been watching her, slowly developing their own little world from the moment they saw her tending to the little garden next to her cabin. A light at the end of the horrid existence they now knew. They created a story about what she was like, how she behaved, and they knew they had to have her.

It wasn’t normal, and they knew that. But they also knew what had crawled in and made homes inside of them wasn’t entirely normal either. It had been there for a while, that rot found in the bottom of the abyss. They had been dragged down a long time ago, long before the dark had really taken root, and now somehow, some way, they were going to drag her down too.

[synthetickitsune]

Merman!Woozi (SVT) | Festival fluff | 0.9k | gn!reader -> mermay masterlist

The sun sits low over the horizon, the warm tones of orange and red glowing like dying embers far off in the distance. Stars are peeking through the purple painting the sky, ready to come out but not quite. The pier is getting lonely, the people are moving back towards the harbor and the town to enjoy the rest of the festival. Only a few young couples stay behind, hoping to enjoy some privacy on the deserted benches.

You smile as you sit down at the very edge of the pier, far far away, closest to the night. Your feet dangle over the water. If you try, you can dip your toes in. The music reaches your ears all the way out here, quiet but still pleasant to enjoy. Like the other individuals who choose to stay behind and enjoy the festival from a distance, you also hope to have privacy. Despite not wholly for your own benefit.

It doesn’t take long for the water to split and reveal the one who kept you waiting. Shaking off water from his hair and pushing it back, Jihoon gives you a friendly smile. With his ruby tail hidden in the dark water, he barely looks like anything but a human.

“Took you long enough,” you tease.

“I was testing how close I can get to the shore,” he explains. His eyes flicker to the beach. It’s clear he’s still tempted.

Usually it would be no real problem to find a secluded spot among the rocks scattered on the beach, close enough to the town that you could still enjoy the music, the lights, the ambience. Unfortunately, today everyone will have the same idea and they don’t exactly have to sneak around.

“What got you so curious?” you ask, already smiling because you know the answer. There isn’t much about humans that intrigues Jihoon. And the one thing that does is pretty hard for him to encounter out here.

“The band,” he sighs. He looks the town’s way. The soft sound of jazz is easy to hear over the calm sea. 

He only ever marvelled at the ingenuity of humans when it came to weapons (he’s grumbled about the cruelty of hunters and fishermen alike many times) and music. You suppose it’s understandable, although you yourself would say that the instruments of his kind were more impressive. Despite the fact that your ears weren’t made to listen underwater.

“It’s nice, the music,” he comments.

You hum in agreement. “You should see the rest of it. There’s lights everywhere, flowers, everyone is sharing drinks and food. Everyone’s in a good mood.”

“I got all of those at home,” he rolls his eyes. You chuckle.

“It’s different here,” you remind him.

“I’m not one to explore,” he counters. You know that’s not true. If he truly didn’t care about anything beside the area around his home, he wouldn’t be here talking to you.

You let the lull in conversation happen. It’s a shame you’re so far, but at least you’ll avoid the headache of the music and people shouting over each other to talk. It’s more romantic, you think, and the idea makes your heart race. If Jihoon notices, and you know he can, he doesn’t mention it.

“It’s too crowded,” he sighs, “Why can’t they all stay where they belong.”

“I’m one of them,” you point out and raise an eyebrow at him.

“You’d sneak out if going out would be against the law,” he shakes his head with a fond smile. 

You’re not gonna entertain that comment. The evening grows later, stars twinkling above as if watching you. The band plays another song. Slower. Sentimental. Jihoon looks wistfully towards the shore. Whatever he says, you know if he had the chance, he’d accompany you on land. If only just to experience the music from up close. Maybe to try…

Oh.

“Hm?” he turns back towards you. You want to shake your head and dismiss the idea but you can’t. It’s not that stupid. Even though - no, you don’t think he’ll call it stupid either.

“I, well, I mean I don’t know how to play but,” you consider it again and you don’t change your mind, “I can learn. We can learn.”

He doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t even blink. Then he bites his lip, looking at you as if assessing if you’re crazy or not. Then he puts his hands on his hips and sighs. You see his lips curl up though.

“Stupid,” he says, fondly, “You have the weirdest ideas.”

“It’s a good idea,” you frown and make the effort to dip your foot down into the water to kick some at his face. Were you wrong?

“Terrible idea,” he corrects you, “But an interesting one.”

You sit down properly again and give him a skeptical look. He rolls his eyes. Then he looks around. It’s deserted, the night is chilly and the breeze doesn’t help. He looks conflicted for a second before he seems to make up his mind.

With one flick of his tail he pushes himself up and pulls himself onto the pier to sit next to you. You panic. Admittedly mostly because he’s never been this close to you - who could blame you though?

“Jihoon!” you whisper-yell at him, looking over your shoulder. He chuckles.

“I checked, it’s fine,” he reassures you. And, well, it’s him. And if he feels fine with it, you learned there’s nothing to worry about.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, “That you’d do that for me.”

“We’re friends,” you bump your shoulder against his, “And hey, I’ll learn something new too.”

He nods but his eyes betray how grateful he really is. It makes you more determined to pull it off. If you can’t bring him to the band, you’ll just have to bring the band to him.

[homunculus-argument]

A story of how this one guy's dog almost got killed by a whistling weiner:

The difference between a great story and mediocre one is all about presentation. Today I was reminded of the time when I was around 7-8 years old, and me and a handful of my cousins were at our grandparents' house when one of grandpa's hunting buddies came to visit. Drinking his coffee with a flock of curious small kids cautiously staring at him, this guy decided to amuse himself by telling us a story of the time his dog almost got killed by a sausage. A whistling sausage.

Knowing the local peoples' sense of humour, I figured that this guy is just doing a bit, even when he swore that this story is completely true. And as we giggled and kept insisting that he's talking fairytales, he reassured us again, it was true, grandpa was there. And we looked at our grandfater who was smiling, clearly seeing where this is going, and nodded very slowly. And our grandfather wasn't the type of a guy to tell stories, he rarely said three words in a row and certainly didn't waste them on nonsense. And he, an honest man, had just verified that he was there to witness this.

They had been on a hunting trip, I think it was 5 men altogether, with their dogs. It was that time of the year when people argue whether it's very late autumn or very early winter. Stinging cold, nonetheless. Taking a break before heading home, the hunters made a fire at a spot next to a lake, observing that the lake already had a thin crust of ice over it. If it wasn't already winter, it sure would be soon.

Now this is where the sausage comes in. Innocuously in the same package as its peers, indistinguishable from the others. Warming up by the fire, with their dogs gathered around them - sitting, sleeping, or begging, each according to their own nature - the men cooked their sausages, drinking coffee and talking jovially amongst themselves about whatever hunters do on pauses like that. The man telling the story had his best dog with him, he mentioned her by name, and at the time, she was still quite young but definitely promising, and was sleeping curled up beside his feet.

And then, the sausage he was cooking whistled. The way that they sometimes do as you heat them up on a fire, but somehow the whistling of this one was abnormally loud and high-pitched, and comically long, going

PWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

This scared the shit out of this guy's dog. Born and bred to chase moose and corner bears, and accustomed to the sounds of gunfire, this dog was startled fuckless by the sound of this whistling weiner. Snapping from dead sleep to her feet, she bolted. To the lake. And right through the ice.

At this point I would like to stress that while everyone who loves their dogs would go to great lengths to save them, these hunting dogs are a treasure to their hunters. I don't know what a good dog would even cost if you could convince a hunter to sell one, but my grandfather's best dog had a grander funeral than my father did. They are a big deal. So it was rescue mission time.

The guy telling the story went into much greater detail about what a huge ordeal getting that bitch out of the ice was than I will here, but it was certainly a hassle. By the time the dog was out of the water, two men were soaked to their waists with icy water and the dog was wet all the way through. Two of their cars were started and kept idling with full heat blasting to warm and dry the two men and one dog while the other three men tried their best to thaw and dry the men's pants, laughing about how the guys would even start explaining their wives why they had to drive home literally ass naked.

And to express her gratitude for being saved from a certain and icy death, the hunting dog in question pissed on a car seat.

And that was the story of how this guy's dog was almost killed by a whistling weiner.

[inosukijiro]

✮⋆˙ modern!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻. ━ one minute, you were at home and the next, you were gone. but now, here you are, and it looks like you're here to stay!

𖤐 𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 .ᐟ hiiii, first post in a few months huh (╥﹏╥). anyways i’ve had this idea in my brain for a really looong time so im v happy to get this out of my drafts. also i never wrote headcanons or for spn before so i hope its okayyy <3

𖤐 ���𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 .ᐟ none?  lowercase intended. gender-neutral reader unless stated otherwise. modern reader in spn. this was supposed to be shorter then i yapped a little too much oops. 1.02k words.

  ─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ───  ─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ───  ─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ───

𖤐 .ᐟ you are a long way away from home, whether you like it or not. you try so hard to maintain your composure, because in your mind, there is no point in freaking out. but you do, just a little bit in the beginning because how could you not? you’re a nervous wreck, no doubt. and the boys can’t really blame you.

𖤐 .ᐟ you are armed with nothing more than your crochet hook, your small purse, and the clothes on your back. you are lost and for right now, you feel small and alone.

𖤐 .ᐟ but you are going to be put through an interrogation. they are the winchesters and can never be too careful. it’s nothing over the top, but you are from where you are and the boys had just about enough of their lives being on display. you are on your best behavior — polite and kind, but you are still nervous and a little shaky.

𖤐 .ᐟ you, who is trying to remain calm through the initial skepticism that came with popping up out of nowhere. the assumption is witches, a curse maybe. deans got the holy water ready just in case and sams flipping through lore for any type of explanation. there is, but no one likes it. there’s a recollection of something a witch had done a week ago, mentioning something about being out of this world. it’s a reach, a long shot even, but that witch is long gone. 

𖤐 .ᐟ so, here you are. you, who knows things. too many things. things that the brothers would rather you not know. you know their traumas — their childhood traumas no less. you know about most of their hunts and their world ending drama. deans wary, though sams more open to understanding. 

𖤐 .ᐟ that's because you aren’t threatening. you aren’t weird, at least not in a bad way. you aren’t obsessive, you're respectful. you don’t pry, you don’t push, you never overstep. you ask before touching anything, you clean up after yourself — making it look like you were never even there. you never bring up anything either, nothing that would be uncomfortable. nothing that would deliberately show the knowledge you had. you stayed in their present and contributed if asked. 

𖤐 .ᐟ you didn’t insert yourself in any hunts, maybe because you knew that you weren’t a hunter. or maybe because the boys would not be receptive to having to babysit you out there. but you are helpful. you organize lore books and help with research, and cook. that certainly softens dean up a bit.

𖤐 .ᐟ you’re a sweetheart, and over time it's really hard for them to stay away though. you're crafty and witty the more you come out of your shell, and it's a wonderful sight to behold. you are many things — soft and sweet, happy like sunshine; but you do have a little bark, and a little bite, and are most certainly able to keep up. you radiate such warmth that you are the calm to their chaos.

𖤐 .ᐟ the thing about you — the thing that makes it so easy for both of them — is that you already get them. there’s no need for explanations. no need to spell out their trauma or their history, because you do in fact, already know. and not in any way that makes them uncomfortable, not in a way that feels invasive. you don’t use it against them, don’t throw their past mistakes in their faces. you just understand.

𖤐 .ᐟ for sam, he doesn’t have to explain why he does anything. he doesn’t have to explain why he hesitates sometimes. why he still believed in trying to save people, even when the world has given him every reason not to. you don't see him as just sam winchester, boy king, a tragic protagonist. you just see him. you never look at him like he’s naive for wanting more than just hunting, for being drawn to books and research and the idea of a quiet life. you remind him, in little ways, that he’s allowed to want more, even if he never really gets it.

𖤐 .ᐟ and for dean… well, it takes longer for dean to get there. because it's one thing for him to slightly like you, to even tolerate your presence. it’s another to trust you and let you in. and he does. it’s the way dean stops questioning if you’re staying. the way he smiles when you giggle at his dumb jokes without forcing it. the way his heart clenches when you hand him one of his beers without him having to ask. the way you see him — the real him. not just the reckless, self-sacrificing jackass that he presented himself to be. and you don’t try to fix him. no, you would never do that. you don’t pity him. you just stay.

𖤐 .ᐟ there’s an unspoken something you notice in the way dean always finds himself standing closer to you than necessary. or the way sam’s gaze lingers a little too long when you’re focused on a book. the way both of them instinctively check to make sure you’re okay after a hunt, even though you weren't even there. how your absence feels wrong whenever you’re not with them.

𖤐 .ᐟ you do, however, treat them the way you think they deserve to be treated. with a little bit of softness and a little bit of delicacy. not too much. oh no, but just enough to not scare them away. 

𖤐 .ᐟ you don’t make them work for your understanding. they don’t have to explain why they are the way they are. why they react the way they do. why some nights they drink too much and fall apart under the weight of everything. you already know. and because of that, they don’t have to pretend with you. they can just be. 

𖤐 .ᐟ and maybe you’re stuck, trying to find your place in their world. sometimes you think that you have no business being here. it's dangerous with everything that goes on in their lives. and… that's okay. they’ll help you. they’ll pick you up and bring you in close. they’ll bring you back when you're distant — pull you back to reality. because you aren’t alone, you’re with them.

ᝰ .ᐟ lmk if i cooked or not chat, ty (˶˃⤙˂˶)

[doctorbitchcrxft]

In The Beginning | Metamorphosis | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader ( :0 ? )

Warnings: angst! alllll the angst. fire, burn wounds, canon gore,

Word Count: 4765

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

The morning sun rose as you continued to frantically scribble in your journal anything and everything you could possibly think of pertaining to the apocalypse. 

Your laptop was opened to pinging the location of the Impala; you had no doubt the brothers would be on the move again soon. 

Sure enough, you were right. You followed the speeding car to a few states over. With the sun setting on a day full of driving and stalking the brothers, you were grateful when the beacon signaling the Impala’s location started heading toward a motel. 

You knew it would be too dangerous to stay at the same motel they did, and thankfully, found another just five minutes away. If the two men did set off again, you were close enough that it wouldn’t be hard to catch up to them. 

Being so close, yet so far from Dean was hurting you. It almost was a physical pain clawing at your insides. Everything was just wearing so heavy on your soul, and you wanted your person to comfort you. 

It had been a while since you had a warm shower. Sure, the water pressure wasn’t ideal, but at least it wasn’t a truck stop bathroom shower. And either option was superior to a sink bath.

You dried your hair with your towel, feeling too tired to take care of your hair in any other way. While you brushed your teeth lazily, all you could do was stare into your reflection. Your eyes were heavy, your hair was in sodden knots, and your face was pallid. 

Following a nighttime routine that was now considered a luxury to you after months of living in your car or an abandoned cabin made you feel like you were existing outside of your body. You felt completely detached from who you’d become when you were with the Winchesters. Despite Dean having come back, you could only think of your life in terms of before his death and after. Both versions of you felt like completely separate individuals. 

Thinking of Dean made you clutch the pillow beside you to your chest. Then, alone in your motel room, you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

***

You jolted awake to see Uriel standing at the foot of your bed. 

“What can I do for you?” you sighed, throwing your legs over the side of the bed and rubbing your hands down your thighs. 

Uriel tilted his head. “I’m surprised at you, (Y/N).”

You gave him a curious look. 

“You’re usually far more argumentative,” he finished. 

“I’m too tired to fight you,” you admitted. 

“There are things you don’t know about the Winchesters,” the angel told you. 

“Like what?” You stretched your arms back, yawning deeply. 

“Mary made a deal.”

That snapped you to attention. “Dean’s mom?!”

“Yes. A deal that resulted in Azazel returning to her home ten years later for Sam. For what; we don’t know,” he explained. 

You shook your head in disbelief. “Why the hell would she do that?” “Her mother, father, and John were about to die,” he responded. 

“Oh.” You stared at the floor, mind reeling with this new information. “What does that have to do with me?”

“You have to stop him, (Y/N),” he said. 

“Who, Sam?”

The angel nodded emotionlessly. 

“Wait, why? Stop him from doing what?”

His disdainful look quieted you down. “You ask far too many questions.” After a brief pause, he told you, “425 Waterman.”

“What does that mean?”

Before you could get an answer out of him, he was gone.

You plugged “425 Waterman” into a search engine and found it led to a seemingly abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. With your duffel bag in hand, you set off.

****

Dean burst up from his bed, back in the present as opposed to 1973. Castiel stood near the hunter’s feet while he breathed out, “I couldn't stop any of it. She still made the deal. She still died in the nursery, didn't she?”

“Don't be too hard on yourself. You couldn't have stopped it,” the angel replied evenly. 

Dean stood at attention, shoulders bristling with anger. “What?”

Castiel’s reply was infuriatingly simple. “Destiny can't be changed, Dean. All roads lead to the same destination.”

“Then why'd you send me back?”

“For the truth,” the angel said. “Now you know everything we do.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean gave an incredulous look. 

Castiel looked over to the other bed which apparently hadn’t been slept in; Dean noted this as well. “Where’s Sam?” he asked. 

Castiel avoided his question. “We know what Azazel did to your brother. What we don't know is why; what his endgame is. He went to great lengths to cover that up.”

Dean gritted the question out through his teeth a second time. “Where's Sam?”

“425 Waterman.”

Dean grabbed his keys and jacket, stalling by the door for only a minute. “ ‘S, uh—”

Castiel turned back around to face him. 

“Is (Y/N) involved in all this? Does she know… anything?”

Dean’s face dropped in shock when the angel nodded. 

“What the hell are you guys doing to her?” the hunter asked, eyebrows knitting together. 

Castiel, once again, avoided his question. “Your brother is headed down a dangerous road, Dean, and we're not sure where it leads. So stop it. Or she will.”

**** You heard Sam asking, “Where’s Lilith?” from a distance away as you entered the damp, dark warehouse from its back door. Silently, you used the shadows to hide your own as you approached Sam and whoever he was talking to. 

“Kiss my ass,” the man responded. You could almost hear a taunting smile in his voice; no doubt he was a demon. 

“I'd watch myself if I were you,” Sam replied. 

“Why? Huh? Because you're Sam Winchester, Mr. Big Hero? And yet here you are, slutting around with some demon. Real hero.” That nearly made you falter. ‘Demon?!’ you thought. ‘Was that who I saw him with at the diner?!’

“Tell me about those months without your brother,” the demon continued. “About all the things you and this demon bitch do in the dark.”

‘Holy fuck, Sam.’

Through a rack of cardboard boxes, you were able to see Sam forcing the demon out of his vessel. Your eyes widened in shock, and you swore your heart stopped for a moment. 

A short woman with dark hair emerged from the shadows. “How'd it feel?”

Sam smiled. “Good. No more headaches.” He started to untie the man in front of him, and thankfully, he hadn’t seen you yet. 

“None?” the demon asked. “That’s good.” The man started to stir, and Sam helped him toward the door behind him. 

‘Thank god I came in from the back,’ you mentally remarked. 

Suddenly, the door opened to reveal Dean who looked very, very angry. 

Sam stopped in his tracks, and your heart nearly stopped. 

‘Oh, fuck.’

“So,” Dean sneered, “anything you wanna tell me, Sam?”

“Dean, hold on, okay? Just let me—”

“You gonna say, ‘let me explain’? You're gonna explain this? How about this? Why don't you start with who she is—” he pointed to the demon which you were equally curious about, “and what the hell is she doing here?”

The woman had a smile in her voice. “It's good to see you again, Dean.”

Your hand flew to your mouth. 

“Ruby?” Dean questioned.

That was who you’d assumed it was, too. 

“Is that Ruby?” Dean asked Sam, becoming angrier with each word. 

Suddenly, Dean attacked Ruby and shoved her against the wall she’d been standing against while watching the interrogation. 

“Don’t!” Sam cried, fighting Dean for the knife he was holding. 

Dean threw Sam against the wall, too, while Ruby struggled her way out of his hold. Suddenly, she had Dean pinned against the wall with her hand around his neck. 

Just as you were about to jump out and help him, Sam ordered, “Ruby, stop it!”

You held your breath as you waited for Ruby to release him. When she finally let him go, he taunted, “Well, aren't you an obedient little bitch?”

“Ruby,” Sam warned. 

When she still didn’t back off, he brought up the man who was possessed earlier. “Ruby, he's hurt. Go.”

With one more undoubtedly scathing look at Dean, she turned to help the man out of the room. 

“Where the hell do you think you're going?” Dean growled at her. 

“The ER. Unless you want to go another round first,” she smirked. 

When he didn’t say anything, she left. Dean and Sam just stared at each other for a long moment. 

“Dean,” Sam muttered. 

Dean just stormed out of the door after Ruby, leaving Sam behind. 

“Dean!”

****

“Uriel!” you called as soon as you got into your motel room. “We gotta talk, man.”

When you turned around at the sound of angel wings, you immediately began interrogating him. “What was that? How can Sam do that?

“Do you understand why you have to stop him in the event that Dean doesn’t?” the angel asked. 

“Wait, ‘stop him,’ how?”

“You know how,” he replied. 

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, I’m not gonna kill him—”

“If Dean can’t stop him, you will,” Uriel insisted with that frustratingly assertive tone. “He’s on a dangerous path, (Y/N). One that will have devastating consequences.”

Uriel left you to stew on his words. You knew you could drive yourself crazy trying to understand what he meant by “devastating consequences,” but given how Revelations went, you were sure it wasn’t good. 

Still, the idea of having to kill your friend if Dean couldn’t “stop him”— whatever that entailed— was horrifying. If you and Dean did survive the apocalypse, he would never forgive you for killing his brother. Not to mention, you would never forgive yourself. 

You laid in bed for hours with your arms wrapped around yourself. It hurt to think. It hurt to cry. Being awake hurt. As you’d written in your journal, “Being Heaven’s bitch is no joke.”

****

The next day, you followed the Winchesters to Carthage, Missouri. How they hadn’t killed each other on the drive there, you weren’t sure.

It seemed they were on a stakeout of their own. With all of the “end of the world” business, you were relieved to be back on what seemed like a normal hunt. Granted, you tried to convince yourself that it was normal. Being in yet another stolen car while stalking Sam and Dean was by no means your preferred version of normalcy. 

You tried to get a closer look at the house Sam and Dean were staking out by using your pair of binoculars. All you could see through the kitchen window was a man in a clean white t-shirt holding a package of raw meat. At first, nothing seemed odd. Then, as if overcome by an insatiable need that rivaled that of a heroin addict, the man tore into the package with his bare hands. His chin and shirt became bloodied while he shoveled gobs of meat into his mouth. 

Your face contorted in a grimace, and you pulled the binoculars away from your face in disgust. 

****

Sam and Dean headed out for some dinner, and you took that as an opportunity to bug their motel room. You needed to understand what they did about this hunt given you hadn’t found any obituaries in the papers or news that could be tied to him, and your wildest idea ended up being the most logical, too. Bugging their room wasn’t ideal, and it required you to drop a few hundred dollars in a nearby tech store. You’d spent a few hours prior learning how exactly to hook them up to your computer remotely. 

Upon entering the room that you were completely positive was Sam and Dean’s, you found a balding, older man sitting at the table with a beer. 

He startled to his feet, and you drew your gun. He returned the gesture. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you sneered. 

“Could ask you the same question,” he replied. 

“Why are you in my room?” you asked, lying easily. 

“This ain’t your room,” the man grunted. 

“Oh, really?” You were beginning to doubt that you’d actually found the right room. ‘It definitely said ‘7’ on the door.’ 

“I know the boys this room belongs to. So unless you’re a groupie—”

The tension in your shoulders lessened slightly. “Wait, you know Sam and Dean?”

The man seemed surprised. “...Yeah. Friend of their dad’s. How do you know them?”

You smirked, stowing your gun. “Like you said: groupie.” You pretended you’d left something in their room during your most recent romp with Dean, and used that time to discreetly plant the bugs. You left so many that even if they found one, they would never find them all. 

“You found your necklace?” the man asked as you headed for the door.

“No,” you sighed, frowning a little. Then, you shrugged. “It’s alright. I can always buy another one.” 

You breathed out a sigh of relief when you’d made it back to your car without any further interruptions. With your headphones in your ears, you prepared for the long night of snooping ahead. 

You discovered the man’s name was Travis, and he did, in fact, know Sam and Dean’s dad. With pleasantries exchanged, Travis inevitably brought you up.

“You had time to stake out Montgomery’s house? Y’know, after you picked up that girl?” he laughed. 

When an uncomfortable silence passed, Dean said, “Travis, what girl?”

“There was a girl here earlier. She said she knew you two.” He sounded just as confused as Dean. 

“We ain’t been in town long enough to pick up any girls. That’d be record timing, even for me,” Dean joked despite his obvious alarm. 

“Oh, shit,” Travis cursed. “I— I’m sorry, boys, she said she’d left a necklace here? She wasn’t here for longer than five minutes. Just looked for her stuff and left.”

“What’d she look like?” Sam asked.

Travis described your height, hair color and skin color to the best of his memory, to which Dean chuckled coldly. It made your stomach drop just a little. 

“Oh, yeah. Old fling of mine,” he spat. “She just can’t let me go.” You knew he knew you were listening. It made his words cut you that much deeper, and you were sure that was exactly what he was intending.

****

Time went by of just sitting and listening to the Winchesters talk to John’s friend about how to kill a rougarou. You’d heard of them before; cajun folklore had always been incredibly interesting to you. 

Dean and Sam seemed to have made no effort to find any of the bugs given none of them had gone off-line. 

Something Sam brought up caught your attention. He said there are theories around rougarous who never turn because they never eat human flesh or “long pig.” 

It seemed Travis was moving around as he spoke. “Fact is, every rougarou I ever saw or heard of took that bite.”

“Okay, well, that doesn’t mean that Jack will,” Sam argued. It was just like listening to him argue with John, and that memory almost brought a smile to your face; reminiscent of a simpler time with no angels and no apocalypse. 

“So what do we do? Sit and hope and wait for a body count?” Travis argued.

“No, we talk to him. Explain what's happening. That way, he can fight it.”

Travis snorted. “Fight it? Are you kidding me?” He lowered his voice to almost a growl. “You ever been really hungry? I mean, haven't-eaten-in-days hungry?”

You had been. You’d let Steven have most of the groceries your father and mother had purchased for the week; especially since your father would purposefully ration your food to keep you small. It made you better at fitting into small hiding places. 

You knew Dean had been, too. You’d always figured he jumped at the chance for every burger he could get his hands on as a result of him giving up his own food for Sam when they were kids. 

“So somebody slaps a big, juicy sirloin in front of you, you walking away?” Travis continued. “That's what we are to him now: meat on legs. I'm sorry. I'm sure he's a stand-up guy, but it's pure, base instinct. Everything in nature's gotta eat. You think he can stop himself 'cause he's nice?”

Sam firmly responded, “I don't know. But we're not gonna kill him unless he does something to get killed for.”

The room went silent for a moment before you heard the door slam behind who you assumed was Sam. He was always one to walk away as opposed to continuing an argument. 

“What's up with your brother?”

Dean just muttered, “Don’t get me started.”

****

When the room finally went quiet that night, and Travis had left, you leaned your seat back to try and get some rest. With your computer plugged into its portable charger and the car completely silent, you curled up into the seat. 

Moving too far from the bugs would cripple your ability to access them. Thus, sleeping in the car, it was.

Suddenly, a terrifying thought crossed your mind. What Uriel was having you do was only going to incriminate you more if the FBI caught up to you. You were stalking two men. With a trail of men assumed dead behind you, they’d only think you were preparing for your next kill. Panic rose in your chest the more and more you realized you were becoming no different than a serial killer. Even if you did manage to make things up to Dean some kind of way, you’d never be able to look at yourself in the mirror the same way again. What had you become? And for what? 

You did your best to remind yourself that everything you were doing, you did for Dean. However, when you stacked all of your actions against one another, that really didn’t make what you were doing redeemable in your mind. 

Anxiety clawed at you, and you curled further in on yourself while sobs wracked your body. In the midst of your panic, you did the only thing you could think to do. You begged for Castiel’s guidance as you’d often done as a teenager. Except this time, he answered. 

“Why are you shaking?” a voice asked from beside you. 

You slowly pulled your hands from over your head and sat up to face him. “You—” you sniffed, “you answered?”

He nodded. 

“What makes this time different?” you asked, tears flowing freely. “Why answer now? Am I only important because I’m helping you now?” 

“You’ve always been important, (Y/N),” Castiel told you. “I just haven’t always been able to answer.”

That answer was less than satisfactory to you, but you accepted it, anyway. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing,” you wiped your nose with the back of your sleeve, and your cheeks with the tips of your fingers. “Please.”

He knitted his brows together. “You are. Why do you doubt?”

You laughed in spite of yourself. “Why wouldn’t I doubt? The boys hate me, Bobby hates me, I am… a stone’s throw from a serial killer.” You remembered Bela’s words and almost smiled at the memory of her. If only she knew how accurate she’d been. “I don’t even feel useful to Heaven. And I wish I could say I’m doing all this out of nobility or some moral obligation. I’m not. I just want Dean to be safe. And at least this way I can be close to him without hurting him more than I already have.”

Castiel seemed to ponder on your words as you spoke. “You are vital to the success of this mission.”

“Whose mission? God’s? Why has he started giving a fuck all of a sudden when he’s been on a coffee break for five-hundred-thousand years?” you scoffed. 

That seemed to confuse Castiel further. “You are angry at god. Why?”

“Again, Clarence, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Who is Clarence?” he asked. “My name is Castiel.”

You laughed, anger melting with the innocence of an immortal celestial being. “An angel from It’s a Wonderful Life. It’s a really good movie, actually.” You took a deep breath. “Look at my life, man. I’m staking out my ex-boyfriend and his brother. I haven’t had a real conversation with someone who isn’t an angel in almost six months. My family is dead by my hand. The only family I had left; I betrayed their trust for a god I don’t even believe in. And I don’t think there’s anything I can do to fix this.”

Castiel pondered for another moment. “I can’t help you with the Winchesters. The order you’ve been given came directly from Michael; Uriel was simply a messenger.—” “Whoa, wait, this is the second time I’m hearing a fuckin’ archangel is steering my ship. Why does he care about me?” you questioned. 

“I don’t question the orders, (Y/N). They just are.” You nodded, understanding what that felt like. You thought your days of blind obedience were over after your father died. If only you’d known. 

“I can help you stay hidden, though,” the angel told you. 

That piqued your interest. “You can?”

“Law enforcement won’t be hunting you anymore.” He put two of his fingers to your forehead, and the world went dark. 

****

The next time you woke up, you remembered Castiel’s words and immediately checked your laptop. You searched for any key terms related to your case, and they were all gone. A wide smile spread across your face. “Thanks, Clarence,” you whispered as you continued scrolling through files in disbelief. 

While that did make your job less stressful, you weren’t out of the woods yet. You couldn’t exactly run right back to the Winchesters; they didn’t even want to look at you anymore. Remembering that fact, you sighed and began your morning routine.

You drove to the nearest gas station to refill the car and brush your teeth and hair in the bathroom. You changed into a fresh set of clothes and took the best “sink shower” you could with the toiletries you had in a grocery bag. While this was by no means ideal, at least being hygienic in some way made you feel a bit better about your situation. 

It was early, but that was how you preferred it. You needed to get the jump on the Winchesters if you were going to be able to keep them from this hunt. You couldn’t let Dean end up in the line of fire again and risk showing up a second too late. 

If they already knew you were listening, what the hell? Why not try to shoo them out of town and back to safety at Bobby’s?

****

When you arrived at the Montgomery residence, no one was home. You figured they wouldn’t be; it was the middle of the workday. You’d used your morning to produce a makeshift flamethrower; just in case. With the time you had in the house alone, you looked for any signs that this guy really was a monster— any large amounts of dried blood in the basement or on furniture, for example— and were incredibly pleased to find none. 

Your stomach growled, begging for attention when you made your way back to your car. You sighed, knowing you couldn’t ignore your body any longer if you wanted to have a fighting chance against a rougarou. So, after grabbing yourself some dinner, you returned to the house. Nothing seemed off; around seven PM, the wife returned home. But where was Jack? A pit formed in your stomach, but you prayed he wasn’t out killing someone. 

Finally, around nine, Jack came back to the house. You gave him a few minutes inside before you’d go to the door to try and talk to him. He didn’t appear to have blood on his shirt or already morphed beyond human capability when he’d arrived, so that made you feel a bit better. 

However, when you knocked on the door, there was no answer. Fearing the worst, you burst through the door with your flamethrower. Much to your surprise, Travis was inside with Jack and his wife tied to chairs in the living room. 

“Uh, what’s going on here?” you asked. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied. 

Jack’s wife seemed terrified; her hair was a mess, and there was a gag in her mouth. 

“What did she do? She’s not a monster,” you said, pointing to her. 

“She’s carryin’ a monster’s baby,” he said. 

“Wait, what?” You recovered from your momentary shock and thought of another viable solution. “Abortions exist, y’know. Just have her get one of those—”

`The woman screamed around her gag.

“Darlin’, I’m tryin’ to save you from getting set on fire, okay?” you quipped. “Relax.” Normally, you’d be much more sympathetic to a person in her position, but the last few months had hardened your already weary heart. 

Travis was looking at you like you had three heads. 

You laughed. “Wait, you find abortions abhorrent, but you’ll deep fry the mom and kid? You are screwed up, man.” “Look, kid, I’m not gonna be around another thirty years to come kill this kid before he kills someone else. This is how it has to be,” Travis huffed, clearly aggravated with your disruption of his hunt. 

“I don’t think it’s that cut and dry, though. I can’t believe I’m sayin’ that, but I don’t think it is,” you stated. “Look, I’ve been hanging out around their house a while now. I’m not seeing any ‘long pig’ or massive blood stains. I think we just need to chalk this one up to a messy home invasion and let these people go.” Your eyes were pleading despite your tone bordering on playful. 

“No-can-do, kid,” he said. He started to pour a can of gasoline on the floor around the couple.

The woman screamed around her gag again, struggling against her binds.

Just then, Jack burst out of his cuffs and jumped at Travis. You tried to lunge at Jack to get him off Travis, but that only resulted in you being thrown into a nearby wall. 

Painfully, you pushed yourself up amidst Travis’s blood curdling screams. 

When you’d finally gotten up from the floor, Jack had untied his wife, and she was bolting out the door in fear. 

With Jack having already eaten long pig and Travis long gone, you grabbed your makeshift flamethrower that had been thrown away from you. With your mind foggy and body aching, you lit the gas and aimed it at the snarling creature. In the process of lighting him up, you neglected to remember the gas Travis had poured all around the room. The entire room was ablaze within seconds, and the rougarou collapsed to the ground as he burned.

You turned to run to the door, but Jack sank his claws into your calf. With a yelp, you fell forward to the floor that was quickly becoming engulfed in flames. You kicked at Jack’s hand frantically, and then his face. You managed to get away from him as he breathed his last, the flames having completely subdued him. Smoke filled your lungs despite your body’s best attempts to cough it out. 

Flames were quickly encroaching upon the pristinely white front door of the house, highlighting its edges in a bright orange as you raced toward it. The doorknob was hot to the touch, but you powered through and got the door open. 

You limped as fast as you could out on the front lawn as the house blazed behind you. With your leg throbbing, adrenaline dropping, and head pounding, you collapsed to the floor. 

***

The first thing you felt was the pain. Hot, searing pain emanating from your right calf, a dull throb from the back of your head, and burning in your lungs. You began to stir, fitfully stretching your limbs. Then, you felt a sheet or a blanket had been placed over you. Where were you? The hospital? 

No, the light you were beginning to see as you opened your eyes was too warm and dim to be the hospital. 

‘Oh, fuck. Where am I?!’ 

“You look like hell,” a familiar voice said.

Your eyes shot open, and you tried to push yourself up on your right arm ignoring the burning in your left. It was then your eyes landed on him. 

“Dean,” you breathed out, eyes filling with tears. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

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

[xomakara]

Beyond The Bounty

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | When you get caught by Seonghwa, the bounty hunter, for the hefty bounty on your head, you can't help but want to know his story. PAIRING | Seonghwa/Reader GENRE | bountyhunter!Seonghwa, cowboy!Seonghwa, outlaw!Reader, off to the wild west we go, smut with no plot, uprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), first time, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex, praising, pet names RATING | Mature LENGTH | 7026 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | They fit the cowboy concept so well. Plus I watched too much westerns the past few days LOL. I actually couldn’t decide which member would suit this story so I let a name pick generator decide haha. And Seonghwa it is~

ATEEZ Main Masterlist

There was no point in struggling. No point in trying to escape when your hands and feet were tied by the harsh ropes. All you could see was the passing terrain of dirt and grass.

Your body was aching from the uncomfortable position you had been bound in. The bounty hunter that caught you didn't even give you a horse to ride, instead opting to lay you unto his saddle as he steered his horse.

"You know...You'd think that you treat a lady better than this." You muttered to your captor. He scoffed at your remark before starting up his horse again.

"You're not exactly a lady though." The man replied, smacking your ass hard enough to make you yelp out in pain. "What man would treat an outlaw like you as a lady?"

"Ouuu, tough words for the big bad bounty hunter." You scoffed. "Come on, you only caught me for my big bounty and left all these other bastards untouched. It doesn't really seem fair does it?"

"For a woman, you talk too much." The man chuckled.

He rode for hours without speaking another word. You tried getting him to say something else but failed every time. Your captor was a silent man. So you had nothing to do but look at the passing terrain of dirt, grass, the man's boots, and the horse's hooves. It seemed like the endless landscape never ended. It was almost maddening how monotonous it was. If it weren't for the horses hooves hitting against the earth constantly, you might have lost your mind.

After what felt like ages, the man finally stopped. He got off his horse and untied you.

"This ain't no prison." He explained while keeping his grip on the ropes. "But if you don't start being nice, I'll tie you back up until I find someplace we can settle down. What do you say?"

"Whatever you say." You shrugged.

"Good girl." The man said happily before letting go of the ropes and walking away. You watched him walk off into the distance before laying on the ground.

Oh, your back aches so badly. Being bound in the same position for such a long time hurts your muscles horribly. A few moments later, you heard the man come back and he squatted next to you. He lifted a flask of water and gave it to you. You took it from him and drank, glad that the damn water tasted good. When you finished drinking, you handed the empty flask back to him.

"It's getting dark and we're not going to make it to town at this rate. I'm setting camp up here." He started and gave you a look. "If you promise to behave, I'll leave you untied tonight. But if you try to run, I'm tying you back up. Do you understand?"

"Yeah yeah. I won't run." You rolled your eyes. You watched as the man prepared to set up camp. You laid back on the ground and let your mind wander.

"What's your story?" You asked suddenly.

The man looked at you with a frown. "What makes you ask?"

"You're just a lone man traveling around and collecting bounties. No family or friends to speak of. How did you end up doing this? And why are you alone?"

"I can ask you the same question." He asked you back, as he leaned against his saddle. "How did a woman like you become an outlaw?"

"Easy." You answered, rolling your eyes. "My seven brothers decided they wanted to be cowboys, so I went with them. We raided ranches and stole cows. We got chased by the sheriffs all the time and got shot at several times. I helped them hijack a train one day, escaping with a large amount of money and guns. And then we split up after finding out that we had a large amount of bounty on our heads. I was just in town stocking up on supplies when you caught me. And here we are."

"Interesting." He said simply. "So you're telling me that you used to live a normal life?"

"Normal?" You laughed. "Nothing about me is normal! It's probably a miracle that I survived growing up the way I did. I have seven brothers. Imagine the chaos!"

"Seven." The man nodded. "That must have been difficult."

"To put it mildly." You nodded. "If you ever get the chance, tell me your story."

"No thanks." The man shook his head. "I prefer living my life alone."

"What's your name anyway?" You asked suddenly.

"Why?" The man replied with a frown.

"Just curious." You shrugged. "I'd like to know the name of my handsome captor. I'm Y/N by the way."

"Seonghwa." The man told you.

You smiled slightly and nodded. "Nice to meet you Seonghwa."

Seonghwa didn't mutter anything and when you turned your head to look at him, you let out a soft gasp. You never got the chance to really look at what your captor looked like since you were hanging off the horse most of the time. But now that you weren't looking at the dirt, you were able to take in his full appearance.

Holy shit, he was beautiful. From his black hair to his brown eyes, there wasn't a part of his face that you didn't like. His arms were also well toned. Every muscle was defined and showed signs of the many adventures he had lived through. Not to mention his chest was pretty impressive too. Even with the jacket covering it, you could still make out a decent sized pec.

'Damn it.' You cursed yourself silently. 'Now I feel guilty for getting captured by him.'

You quickly shifted your gaze back towards the horizon. You couldn't afford to think about him right now. You had to stay strong. Your past experiences with men made it impossible to trust anyone except for yourself. Even if he treated you well, you couldn't get attached to him because you were bound to be killed eventually.

You did have a hefty bounty on your head.

Sighing, you continued to watch the horizon as you waited for the sun to set. "I've never met a handsome bounty hunter before." You sighed, unable to hold back your thoughts anymore.

"What makes you say that?" Seonghwa inquired.

"You're good-looking, ruggedly handsome, in fact. Most bounty hunters I've seen aren't exactly the best looking." You told him honestly. "You got a wife and kids back home?"

"No." Seonghwa shook his head. "I've been traveling since I was young. Sometimes for months at a time. Other times, for weeks. No attachments."

"Hmm..." You pondered over the situation.

"And you?" He looked at you as you slowly sat up. "Anyone waiting for you?"

"Well..." You trailed off. "I did once upon a time. Before I became an outlaw. But he was gunned down before we could consummate the marriage."

"Damn." Seonghwa cursed. "How awful."

"Yeah, it sucked." You frowned. "I warned him what would happen if he were to stay in my life. And he chose to stay anyway. It wasn't even an hour after we were wed that he got shot in front of me. He was so young. Only eighteen. That bastard never should have gotten himself into such a dangerous line of work."

"Did you avenge him?" Seonghwa inquired curiously.

"Yes." You said simply. "After he died, I joined my brothers. I shot the bastard in the head once I found him. I went straight from being a naive girl of sixteen to a widow in a matter of hours."

"Do you miss him?" Seonghwa asked softly.

"Sometimes." You whispered. "It's been nearly ten years so I can't remember how he looks now. But sometimes I do. It gets hard living my life alone knowing that he's dead."

"You said that you came from a large family." Seonghwa remarked. "Are you sure that you're alright without someone by your side?"

"Of course." You scoffed. "A simple trip across the country isn't going to kill me. Plus, I have a handsome bounty hunter here to keep me company. It's definitely a win-win situation."

"Ha ha." Seonghwa snorted. "Keep joking like that and you'll regret it."

"Really?" You giggled. "Handsome bounty hunter says that I'll regret joking with him. Should I believe you?"

"Absolutely not." Seonghwa told you sternly. "I'm not like those other men. I may be a bounty hunter, but that doesn't mean that I'll touch women without consent."

"Such a gentleman. I like you already. Sad that you're turning me in though." You said before giving him a sweet smile. "Just kidding. Seriously though, don't turn me in. Let's be friends."

"Friends?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. "No way in hell."

You let out a sigh as you resumed watching the dirt and grass below you. Hands and feet tied again, you thought you would be sitting upright on the saddle in front of him but he decided to lay you down instead. You could feel his warm hands near your back, holding the reins to keep the horse steady. He didn't say anything. There was no conversation. In fact, you couldn't hear any sound at all. Nothing but the sound of the wind blowing and the horse hooves hitting against the land.

"Back to looking at dirt and grass." You huffed. "Wonderful."

"There are other things to look at besides the dirt." Seonghwa pointed out.

"Like what? Cacti? Rocks?" You suggested sarcastically.

"Sounds about right." Seonghwa agreed. "Tell me something."

"Anything." You answered, trying to glance at him but to no avail.

"Have you always been this bold? Most women I've met don't exactly act like you." Seonghwa said with a slight hint of surprise.

"And how do they act?"

"Most are demure and coy. They don't talk much and prefer to remain quiet. They're happy to stay within their own circle and keep themselves safe." Seonghwa informed you. "They want security and nothing more. They want a nice home, some children, and the rest of their lives will follow suit. You, on the other hand, aren't afraid to challenge yourself and take risks. I mean what woman becomes an outlaw?"

"Me." You admitted. "This woman. So yes, you're correct. I am very different from other women. My parents were both strong people. They raised me differently than others. And when my parents died and I went with my brothers, they taught me to be tough. I've had to fend for myself since I was little. There was never a moment where I felt safe. Even after my husband died, I knew I had to go out on my own. If I wanted to survive, I needed to learn to fight. After joining my brothers, I learned how to shoot, rob trains, and kill. I have to admit, however, I never liked the killing part. But what choice did I have? All I cared about was keeping myself alive."

"I never said I disliked it. I respect your strength. It's admirable." Seonghwa said sincerely.

"Thank you." You smiled, staring at the man who stared at the land with equal intensity. "But let me ask you something."

"Go ahead." Seonghwa said simply.

"Why the sudden interest in knowing about me?" You asked. "You're going to turn me in anyway. What difference does it make whether or not you know my backstory?"

"True enough." Seonghwa conceded. "But I find it interesting."

"Okay. I guess curiosity killed the cat. Ask away." You rolled your eyes. "But first, can I ride sitting up? Laying like this is awkward and it hurts."

"Sure." Seonghwa said. He grabbed the reins and pulled gently to make sure the horse stopped. When the animal compiled, he released his grip, untied the ties that bound your feet and positioned you onto the horse seat. You were grateful to finally be able to sit properly and look around.

As soon as you sat up, you immediately took in every detail of the man that sat behind you.

He wasn’t as tall as your brothers Yunho and MIngi but still tall nonetheless. His broad shoulders barely fit into the leather jacket he wore. Black pants and boots completed his attire. However, his favorite piece of clothing seemed to be the black shirt that he wore underneath his jacket. It was open just enough to show a glimpse of his chiseled chest. It was slightly unbuttoned and made him seem even more desirable.

"Stop staring or you'll go back to looking at the ground." Seonghwa chastised you with a glare.

"Okay. Fine, no staring." You sighed in defeat. "Ask your questions. Or whatever it is that you want to know."

"Your siblings." Seonghwa began. "Who are they?"

"Don't you know the Ateez gang?" You asked curiously.

Seonghwa stared down at you. "Those are your brothers? The seven men with five thousand dollar bounties each on their head? You rode with them?"

"Is it that surprising? I'm surprised my oldest brother Hongjoong doesn't have a bigger bounty..." You paused for a moment before continuing. "If you're wondering, yes I am the youngest."

"I wouldn't have guessed that you were the youngest." Seonghwa commented. "It must be tough having to live up to everyone else."

"It's not that bad. We're actually quite close." You shrugged. "Everyone else has big personalities and we all get along really well. They all became my brothers when my parent's adopted them. I will always be their sister and they will always be my brothers even if we don't share a single drop of blood."

"You must care for them very much. To risk everything for them." Seonghwa said in understanding. "Have you fallen in love again after your husband died?"

"Again? I don't understand what you mean." You replied innocently.

"You fell in love with a man and married him. Have you fallen in love with another man since then?" Seonghwa pressed.

"Uh... What? I never said that I was in love with my husband. But I did respect him. He was a good friend and would have been a good husband." You explained. You turned to look at him. "Seriously. It’s not fair that I’m the only one talking. Tell me about you."

"I...I had a wife and child." Seonghwa said sadly. "She died from childbirth and my son died too from illness. He was only a few months old."

"Oh...I'm sorry." You muttered. Your heart broke a little bit at the sad news. You really hoped that the man beside you wasn't going to turn you in. Because right now, he reminded you a lot of her. Of your past self. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Seonghwa reassured you. "It's been about five years now since she died. Sometimes it still feels fresh. But I've gotten used to it. Since then, I haven't found anyone else to settle down with. Not because I don't want to. But because it's not possible. I just can't bring myself to trust another person."

"Trust is hard to earn." You murmured. "So I understand why you can't do it. But perhaps you should try? Just one more time?"

"One more time?" Seonghwa repeated incredulously. "What makes you think that I would fall in love again?"

"Well...first of all, you are not alone." You argued. "Second, most of the world is lonely. They may have many friends, but they don't have a companion that they can share everything with. That special someone that is there for them when times are good and also for them when times are bad. Someone that they can depend on to be there through thick and thin."

"Someone like you?" Seonghwa questioned, looking at you curiously.

"Calm down, big boy." You laughed. "I'm not telling you to marry me. I'm just saying that maybe you shouldn't shut off your chances at finding happiness because you're afraid of getting hurt."

"Wise words coming from an outlaw." Seonghwa muttered with amusement. "Alright. Let's give it a shot. One more time."

"Another question for you." You said casually. "Of all outlaws to catch, why me? There were a ton in the town I was in. I don't even resemble my wanted picture. So why me?"

"I don't know the exact reason...but I think it's because you are so unlike any other woman I've ever met." Seonghwa answered honestly. "I know I said that you're different. But it's true. You're not like any of the traditional women out there. You're not a saloon girl and you're not a prostitute. When I saw you standing there next to your horse, I just had this feeling come over me. Like I could tell that you're more than meets the eye."

"You like the mysterious type, huh?" You teased.

"I like it when a woman stands out from the crowd." Seonghwa told you honestly. "I like it when they dare to defy society. I find it very attractive. My wife was like that."

"That sounds wonderful." You breathed out.

Seonghwa watched you intently. Your hair flew freely behind you. For some reason, he couldn't stop staring at you. You stared back at him curiously. Something about him intrigued you. From the way he spoke, to the way he looked. Maybe it was the aura he emitted that intrigued you. Whatever it was, you couldn't deny the fact that you were drawn to him. It didn't matter if you got arrested, turned in, or got a bullet to the face, you had to admit that he was handsome. And charming. He was just...so unlike any other man you've ever known.

In a good way.

After a while, Seonghwa cleared his throat. You instantly snapped out of your thoughts and forced yourself to focus.

"How long until we reach town?" You asked curiously.

"Not long." Seonghwa confirmed. "We'll stop at the nearest inn for dinner and drinks. Then it will take us another day to reach our destination."

"I guess I should get comfortable, huh?" You sighed as you adjusted yourself on the saddle. You looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Since I'm going with you peacefully, can you untie my hands too? Please?"

"You promise not to run?" Seonghwa asked curiously.

"I swear." You nodded.

"Alright." Seonghwa sighed. He removed the rope binding your hands together and loosened the knots on the other side of your wrists. "There."

You rubbed your wrists appreciatively. Now that you weren't tied up, it gave you the freedom to stretch your arms out. In response, Seonghwa wrapped his arm around your waist. You looked up at him with wide eyes but he seemed to just stare off into the distance.

You looked down at his hand resting against your hip. He hadn't removed it yet. Instead, he held it firmly as if he intended to keep it there forever. Without thinking, you leaned into his touch and placed your head on his shoulder.

For the rest of the journey, neither of you moved. You didn't speak. You didn't say anything either.

Both of you just stayed silent, savoring each other's company.

You reached the inn that was in the middle of nowhere. If you looked at the map carefully, it wasn't even a real city. However, it served as the last outpost for food supplies and travellers before they arrived at the main city.

You and Seonghwa walked up to the counter where a grizzled old man stood, watching you both. "Lookin' for a room?" He grunted gruffly.

"Yeah." Seonghwa said confidently. "Do you have any vacancies?"

The old man glanced over at you before answering. "I only got a small room meant for one traveler and not two. Does your pretty wife mind the small space? I reckon she'd prefer the comforts of a larger room."

Seonghwa didn't even correct the man as he looked down at you. "You don't mind the small room, do you sweetheart?" He asked softly.

You shook your head. "We'll take it. After all, it's only for one night."

The old man led you inside the small room. You pulled back the curtain and took a look around. It wasn't too bad, but it definitely wasn't a large luxurious room. There was a bed, which was only big enough for one person, a dresser and a table with chairs. It seemed to be more of a bachelor room rather than a couple's. But hey, at least you wouldn't have to sleep on the floor tonight.

"This room is the cheapest we have." The old man announced as he pointed to the bed. "But I suggest you make yourselves comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon."

He left without waiting for your answer. Once he closed the door behind himself, you turned to look at Seonghwa.

"Wife? Sweetheart?" You asked in confusion. "Am I missing something here?"

Seonghwa sat in one of the chairs as he gestured for you to take the bed. "It's a good excuse for a man and woman that’s together to be in these parts. To most folks, a female outlaw is unheard of. But a man and woman travelling together under such circumstances?"

"I guess...yeah. Makes sense." You mumbled.

"Take the bed." He muttered. "I'll sleep in the chair."

"Why not let me share the bed with you?" You suggested.

"You trying to seduce me?"

"Do you want to be seduced?" You countered playfully.

Seonghwa looked away guiltily. "No, I..."

You placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. "Don't worry about it. I won't seduce you."

"Go to sleep, Y/N." Seonghwa urged gently.

Reluctantly, you climbed onto the bed. Your skin prickled as you stared at Seonghwa who was already sitting in the chair.

You waited until he finally laid down on the chair before you finally relaxed. It was a short wait. Within minutes, you were fast asleep.

This time he didn't tie you up and lay you down on the saddle. This time, he actually put you on his lap as he steered the horse with one hand. As you sat comfortably in his lap, his free arm went around your waist.

You stared out at the beautiful scenery around you. It was truly amazing how vast the plains were and how beautiful the sunset was.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Seonghwa whispered. His breath tickled the back of your neck as he spoke.

Your heart fluttered at the feel of his voice against your ear. You lifted your head to look at him. "Yes. It's beautiful." You breathed out.

"Right now, you don't look like an outlaw. Don't act like one. Be yourself." Seonghwa encouraged. "Enjoy the ride and the view. Just be happy. It's alright if you want to enjoy being in my arms. I'm not going to tell anyone."

His voice made your heart beat faster. You couldn't help but lean into his chest. "Thank you, Seonghwa." You breathed out.

"Y/N. Can I ask you a question?" Seonghwa asked curiously.

You turned to look at him curiously. "Sure."

"I know we just met but...can I kiss you?" Seonghwa breathed out nervously.

"Why the sudden interest in me now?" You questioned jokingly.

"Because I want to." Seonghwa admitted. "I never thought I would meet someone like you. Someone that doesn't follow the rules. Who dares to break away from what others expect her to do. A smart woman with such high morals. And she's honest and has strong principles. I always knew that I wanted to be around someone like you."

You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a strangled sound. At first, you didn't know what to say, but then he pressed his soft lips against yours. Your body reacted involuntarily, giving in to his gentle kisses.

His warm lips felt good against yours. 

It felt right. 

Everything felt right.

When he pulled away, he didn't look disappointed. In fact, he looked completely content. As if he hadn't been looking for you, but found you anyway. That realization filled you with hope. It may have only been the second day since you met him, but you could tell that there was something special between the two of you. You didn't know if it would go anywhere in the future, but you were glad that you met him nonetheless.

You didn't know what this feeling was. Surely it couldn't have been love. This was your second day of knowing each other after all. Love was impossible. So you couldn't possibly be in love with him. Right?

Still, you couldn't help but smile. Maybe this would turn into something great after all.

As you rode into the main city, you gazed out at the streets, amazed by the hustle and bustle around you.

People were everywhere, running around and buying and selling their wares. Despite the bustle, you couldn't help but think that everything looked calm and peaceful. It almost seemed unreal.

But despite the chaos and turmoil, people still smiled and laughed. Even amidst all the commotion, they managed to make jokes and laugh. You found that incredibly reassuring.

"You're turning me in?" You asked, his chest warm against your back.

"Do you want me to? Or do you want to stay with me?" Seonghwa replied softly.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" You asked him, as his horse trotted along the streets.

"Would you be unhappy staying here?" Seonghwa asked with uncertainty.

"I'd be locked in a cell for the rest of my life. Why do you ask?" You questioned.

Seonghwa sighed. "Because for some odd damn reason, I don't want to turn you in."

Your brows furrowed. "Why?"

"I dunno." Seonghwa shrugged. "It's probably because I'm a soft-hearted bastard on the inside. Maybe I want you to partner up with me to hunt outlaws instead. Heard you're pretty good with a gun."

"You tryna make me one of the good ones?" You teased.

Seonghwa smirked. "Only if you wanna."

"If it means that I won't get hunted down..." You glanced over at him and grinned. "I might take you up on that offer. Thanks."

"Good girl." Seonghwa replied happily as he pulled you closer to his chest. "Let's go rest up in our rooms and decide our plan of action tomorrow morning."

You and Seonghwa decided on one room again but this time the bed was much larger to accommodate a couple. You both took a bath and washed your clothes before settling in to sleep.

As you lied in bed, listening to Seonghwa breathe, you couldn't help but think of your future. For the past few years, all you did was spend money and travel the west with your brothers. You grew tired of doing that. Of taking people's possessions and running away. It was boring. Sure, there was the occasional excitement and danger but you always escaped alive. What else could you possibly gain from living like that? All you had to show for your adventures were scars and bruises.

Now you have the chance to live your life differently. This might be your last chance to do so. Now that you had met Seonghwa, things weren't exactly the same anymore. The path ahead of you was still uncertain, but the unknown was always exciting. What would happen next?

You heard Seonghwa move in his sleep beside you. Then, a few moments later, you felt his fingers lightly tracing your cheek. You smiled, enjoying the warmth radiating from his touch. "Seonghwa?"

"Hmm?" Seonghwa replied sleepily. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You told him honestly. "Just thinking."

"What are you thinking about?" Seonghwa whispered suddenly.

"About us." You confessed.

Seonghwa's eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled over to face you. He cupped your cheeks with his hands. "What about us?"

"Us as partners." You stated simply. "And lovers."

His thumb brushed against your bottom lip. "Are you sure?"

"Very." You assured him as you leaned forward and kissed him tenderly.

"Have you ever been with a man since your husband passed?" Seonghwa asked as his lips trailed down your neck.

"No. Not once." You replied quietly. “Still a virgin, here.”

"Then I promise that you'll find no better lover than me." Seonghwa whispered against your lips. "Let's leave the past behind us and start anew. We'll see where this takes us."

Slowly, you drew back and nodded. "Alright." You murmured.

Seonghwa leaned in and kissed you passionately. "Do you want to keep going?"

You sighed in pleasure as he nipped at your bottom lip. "Can't stop now. I need to taste every inch of you."

With that, he continued down your neck, kissing you lovingly as his fingers slowly explored your curves. Soon, he was stroking your breasts through your shirt and teasing your nipples with his thumbs.

When his lips returned to your lips, you parted them eagerly, your own tongue reaching out to taste his. Soon, the passion between the two of you increased, intensifying with every passing moment. When he started kissing your neck, moving lower and lower down your chest, you held onto his shoulders.

"You're so soft, baby." Seonghwa breathed out huskily. "Soft as silk and sweet as honey."

"Mmm..." You moaned.

"So sensitive." Seonghwa breathed out as he traced his tongue across your nipple. "I could lick you all night long."

You whimpered as he circled your breast with his tongue, teasing you with the tips. "Seonghwa..."

"You've never been touched like this before, have you?" He questioned in a hoarse whisper. "Touched like this and felt loved."

"Yes." You whispered as you reached out to touch him.

"Have you ever tasted a man's flesh before?" Seonghwa asked curiously.

"Uh..." You shook your head. "No. Despite my flirtatious and bold nature, you'd be the first man I've ever given myself to."

"That's quite a confession." Seonghwa chuckled. "I think it's time that I changed that."

You gasped as he bit gently on your breast, making you arch off the bed in ecstasy. "S-Seonghwa!"

"I love it when you say my name like that. You know that, right?" He whispered against your skin. "I could listen to you say my name forever."

He began to suckle on your breast while tracing his fingers down your stomach. "God, I wish you were naked." He mumbled. "Wish I could touch you. Feel every inch of your soft, silky skin."

Before you knew it, he had undone the buttons of your shirt, revealing your chest. With shaking hands, he removed it and tossed it aside. "Look at how perfect you are." He breathed out. "So fucking sexy."

"Like what you see?" You asked breathlessly.

"Every damn thing." Seonghwa groaned as he caressed your naked skin. His fingers traced down your abdomen, trailing lightly over your stomach, stopping at your hip bones. He tugged at your pants and undergarments until they fell to the floor. "Fuck, you're gorgeous. So sexy and beautiful."

He lowered his head and ran his tongue along your belly button. You sighed in pleasure as he ran his nose up your abdomen, inhaling deeply. Suddenly, he pushed himself up and sat back on his knees, gazing at you seductively. "I want to taste you so badly." He said darkly. "I want to savor every part of you."

Without warning, he reached out and grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him. Then, he lowered his mouth to yours and kissed you deeply. The sensations coursing through your body left you wanting more.

Slowly, he slid down your body, tasting you with his tongue as he went. One hand caressed your thighs while the other trailed lightly up your side. "Beautiful." He whispered. "So damn beautiful."

His lips trailed up your ribs, to your collarbone, to your chin. He nibbled at your jawline before kissing your lips softly. Slowly, he began to explore the insides of your mouth, sucking and licking at your lips. “How are you feeling, my sweet girl?” He whispered against your lips.

You smiled. “Amazing.” You breathed out.

Seonghwa grinned. “Let’s give your body even more pleasure.” He whispered huskily as he stood up and yanked off his shirt. His muscles rippled with every movement as he approached you. Then, he knelt down in front of you and pressed his lips against your thigh. You squirmed slightly at the contact.

“Oh!” You exclaimed softly. “Seonghwa!”

“Shhh.” He soothed as he rubbed his lips against your leg. “Just let yourself enjoy this.”

Slowly, he moved his way up your thigh, giving you goosebumps with every stroke. You couldn’t help but feel excited as he kissed your inner thigh, his fingers continuing to stroke you gently. “Seonghwa…” You whispered softly. “What are you doing?”

“Shh…” He repeated. “Trust me.”

A low moan escaped your lips as he slipped his finger into you, gently caressing your walls. “Ah…”

“Such a good girl.” Seonghwa murmured, smiling at you. “So eager and eager to please.”

His fingers played with your clit while he continued to kiss you tenderly. You could barely contain your excitement as his lips traveled higher and higher up your thigh. Then, he slid his tongue into your cleft and licked up and down your slit, his hands stroking you gently as he went. Your hips bucked up against his face as his fingers continued to work their magic on your g-spot.

Soon, he sucked your clit into his mouth, gently biting down on it. You moaned loudly as you began to tremble. Your legs tightened around his head, forcing his head deeper inside you. He didn’t seem to mind though as he continued to play with your clit.

“Seonghwa…” You moaned again as your entire body tensed up. You couldn’t hold back any longer as you came apart underneath him.

He continued to lick and suck at your pussy, making sure to drink in every drop of your orgasmic juices. He kissed your inner thigh several times before getting up and standing over you. “I want you to take off my pants.” He commanded as he kicked off his boots.

Slowly, you undid his pants and took them off, throwing them to the side. Once you finished removing his pants, you pulled off his underwear, his erection springing free. Your eyes widened as you gazed at his cock. It was already half hard and incredibly large.

"My sweet girl, can you take me in your mouth?" He asked with a wicked grin.

You nodded slowly. "I'm willing to try anything once."

His eyes darkened. "Do you really mean that?"

"Yes." You answered as you wrapped your hand around his shaft and gave him a gentle squeeze. "I'll do whatever you want."

He cupped your cheek with one hand and looked deep into your eyes. "You'll let me fuck your pretty little mouth?"

You nodded enthusiastically. "Of course."

"Oh, baby…" He breathed out, closing his eyes as he imagined the two of you together. You on your knees in front of him, holding his thick member in your hand as you prepare to slide it inside your warm, wet mouth. You looking up at him, your hair cascading down your back as you stare into his eyes, begging for him to fill your throat with his seed. "I bet you look amazing like that. Can you imagine it?"

"Mmm... Yes." You moaned as you felt him sliding his fingers through your hair. "I can definitely picture it."

He moaned in pleasure. "God, I want you." He growled.

He reached down and guided himself into your waiting mouth. As soon as the tip of his dick hit your lips, you closed your eyes and swallowed the head of his cock. He winced in pleasure as you started to move your head back and forth, taking more and more of him inside your mouth. He could hear you moaning in pleasure as you bobbed your head up and down. Soon, you started to take him further and further down your throat.

"You're taking it so well, my sweet girl." He breathed out, leaning forward to run his fingers through your hair. "Is it too much?"

You shook your head. "No." You breathed out. "Keep going."

He grinned. "Good girl." He moved his fingers from your hair to caress your cheeks. "I'll take it slow if you want."

You didn't answer him, instead simply nodding your head as you sucked harder on his cock. You could tell he was enjoying the sensation because his breathing became heavier and faster. "Baby, can you take more?" He whispered huskily. "Can you handle the whole length of my cock?"

"I'll take you as far as you want, Seonghwa." You replied breathlessly.

Suddenly, he thrust himself deeply into your throat, causing you to gag a little. He held onto your head and forced himself to keep going, knowing that if he stopped, you would struggle to breathe. "There we go." He breathed out. "I knew you could handle it."

With every inch of him that entered your mouth, you felt yourself growing hotter and hotter. You were starting to shake with desire as you leaned forward, trying to take more of him inside you. He didn't stop, pressing himself into your mouth and stroking your throat gently.

"Keep going, my sweet girl." He encouraged you. "Take all of me. Make me explode inside your mouth."

As you kept moving your head back and forth, sucking and slurping on his dick, he reached out and caressed your cheek. Your face flushed red as you looked up at him. "You look so fucking beautiful like this." He whispered. "Taking everything I have to give."

He watched you continue to suck and lick at his cock. His breathing was beginning to become irregular as he fought the urge to come. "Oh god... God, I need to fuck you now." He moaned. "I can't take this anymore."

With that, he turned around, pulling you with him. "Come here, my sweet girl." He commanded. "I want you on top."

Once he lay down on the bed, you straddled him, hesitating. "Seonghwa...you're so big. Will you fit?"

"You won't know unless you try." He encouraged you as he caressed your face. "Put me inside you. As much as I need you, tell me if it hurts and I'll stop."

You bit your lip nervously. "Alright." You said softly. "I'll try."

"Good girl..." He murmured as you slowly sank down on him. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." You gasped as you felt him filling you completely.

"It's not too painful?" He breathed out.

"Not at all." You answered honestly. "It feels amazing."

He smiled. "That's my sweet girl." He said as he caressed your breasts. "Feels so good to finally be inside you. To be buried deep inside you."

His words sent chills down your spine as you rode him, bouncing up and down. Every time you bounced, he gripped your hips tighter and held you in place, ensuring that you stayed impaled on his dick. With each thrust, you could feel him throbbing against your pussy walls. He could see how badly you wanted to come, how badly you needed to come. But you knew Seonghwa wouldn't come before you did.

"Tell me what you want." He whispered softly as he stroked your stomach. "Say the word and I will give it to you."

Your pussy clenched around his dick as you bit your lower lip. "Fuck me harder, Seonghwa." You breathed out. "Please."

"Such a naughty girl." He chuckled. "But I love it."

He grabbed your ass and started thrusting into you harder. "This is our first time having sex, you know?" He breathed out. "You're doing so well, my sweet girl. Don't worry about anything. Just ride me and let me give you pleasure."

You smiled as you pumped up and down on him, loving the feeling of his cock inside you. The room was filled with heavy breathing and low moans as the two of you tried desperately to reach your orgasms.

"I think I'm close." You breathed out.

"I think you are too." He agreed as he kissed your neck. "Just let go, sweetheart. Let go and come with me."

Then, you felt an intense wave of heat building within you. You trembled as you reached your peak and cried out loudly, squeezing Seonghwa's hips tightly. As your orgasm ripped through your body, he continued to fuck you even harder, wanting to make sure you came just as hard as he did.

"That's it, my sweet girl." He grunted. "Let it all out. Come all over my cock. Take everything I have to give."

As the two of you rode your orgasms out, you held onto Seonghwa's arms tightly. "Oh... oh god... I don't know if I can take anymore..." You panted out as your body relaxed.

"Hold on, my sweet girl." He replied as he ran his fingers up and down your arm. "We've still got some time left."

The next few minutes were filled with kisses and soft touches as both of you recovered from your climaxes. After a couple of minutes, you opened your eyes and gazed lovingly at him. "Wow... that was incredible." You said softly.

He smiled and brought his thumb to his mouth, tasting you. "Yes, it was." He replied. "And it gets better every time."

"Oh, really?" You asked with a smile.

"Really." He replied as he cupped your cheek. "If you're willing to be patient with me, I promise you that it will only get better and better. And someday, I will give you something you've never experienced before."

You shivered slightly. "Like what?"

"Hmm... I haven't decided yet." He admitted with a sheepish grin.

You let out a laugh, cuddling closer to his body. "Well, that doesn't exactly help me decide whether or not to be patient."

"Sorry, my sweet girl." He apologized as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "I'm trying to be romantic, but I'm very rusty at this sort of thing."

"You'd better get used to it." You replied with a wink. "Because I plan on being your partner for a long time."

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Leon Day

Summary: The reader makes Dean breakfast on Leon Day and explains what the day is. While she has some fun things planned, Dean shares some of his own future plans with her...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,000ish

Warnings: language, 15x20 finale spoiler (fic takes place post 15x20 though)

A/N: Enjoy!

_______

“Y/N,” said Dean, scratching his head when he came into the kitchen for breakfast. “I haven’t been in a coma lately right?”

“No...why would you ask that?” you said. Dean pointed behind him to the string lights hanging in the hall, colorful lights twinkling along the wall. “Oh that? It’s Leon day.”

“Who’s Leon?” he asked, padding over to his usual stool, yawning and curling into himself. You ruffled his hair and slid a cup of coffee in front of him.

“It’s June 25th. Exactly six months from Christmas,” you said.

“Is it Leon’s birthday?” he asked. “Whoever he is?”

“No silly,” you said, returning your attention to making pancakes.

“Can I have chocolate chips?” he asked. “Please.”

“Uh we’re out of chips but blueberries instead?” you asked, holding up the package.

“That’s fine,” he said, spinning in his seat. “So...lights?”

“Well Leon is Noel backwards and since it’s six months from Christmas it’s kinda like a mini-Christmas day,” you said.

“Never heard of it.”

“Well most people have never heard of a devil’s trap but that’s a thing that exists too,” you said. He hummed and sipped on his coffee, crossing his legs on his seat. He looked younger like that and you smiled, hoping he was in a good mood this morning. “I only decorated a little bit.”

“So it’s like Christmas? I didn’t get you any presents,” he said.

“We don’t have to do presents. It’s more about, doing things together, making cookies, having a nice dinner together. Maybe take a day off from hunting,” you said. You put your back to him and finished with his pancakes, dropping some fresh blueberries on top for him when you were all done. You hummed and slid the plate in front of him, giving him a fork and knife along with a glass of water.

“I uh, actually wanted to talk to you about hunting. Sam and I saw something online,” he said. You sighed and poured more batter into the pan.

“A new case?” you asked, forcing a smile into your voice.

“This big house in Lawrence. Not obnoxiously big but it’s big, big enough for like eight people I’d say,” he said.

“Is it haunted?” you said, watching the batter bubble and begin cooking.

“It’s for sale. We were thinking of buying it. He was gonna talk to Eileen and I said I’d talk to you about it.”

“About…”

“Buying it,” said Dean. You turned and frowned at him, Dean shoveling his second pancake into his mouth. “What?”

“First off, chew. Second, why would you guys buy a house? You’re not suddenly going to become the Property Brothers are you?”

“No silly. The house would be for us. Obviously we’d ward the shit out of it but yeah, house. What do you think?” 

“Why would we get a house?” you asked. Dean rolled his eyes and you put the rest of the pancakes on a plate, bringing them over and taking a seat beside him. “Like, is there something wrong with the bunker?”

“Nothing wrong with her. But Jack and Cas are up working in heaven and the world’s not so scary...and I did have a house in heaven when I was there.”

“You still haven’t told me about whatever space time continuum crap you broke in order to be back from the dead.”

“Jack just said it was alright so I’m back and considering you weren’t up in Heaven like we all thought you were, we all decided on a do over. I missed you and I liked that house but I want you in that house with me.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying...let’s go live in a house and maybe I hunt every once in a while, maybe I run point for some other hunters, if we decide to go that route. Maybe I do something different for work. But I’m also saying, I like waking up and having pancakes and having random holidays and being happy and I can decide to do what I want, for me. I want a warm happy house with my family. You can decorate it for whatever holidays you want if I can have that.”

“We can have that,” you said quietly. You reached over and he already was meeting you there, hugging you with a happy sigh. “You’re really ready to leave all this behind?”

“We can always come visit this place. But I think our family should grow up the way we didn’t get to. We deserve that at the very least.”

“And you said you didn’t get any presents,” you said, holding him tight.

“I may have known you were planning this,” he teased. “I waited a little longer to share the news than I was hoping to but I figured you wouldn’t mind your Leon day present.”

“No, no I don’t,” you said. He kissed you and grinned before he hopped up. He dug around in the pantry and pulled out a bag of peppermint white chocolate chips. “Well now you’re just bragging.”

“I heard we were making cookies,” he said, dropping them on the counter. “Later though. After my yummy breakfast.”

“After your breakfast,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Love you. Best mini Christmas ever.”

“Love you too sweetheart. This Christmas you’ll have a whole house to decorate. Think you can handle that?”

“Absolutely. As long as I get some help?”

“Yeah I think you can swing that,” he said. He kissed your temple and hummed, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “So where’s my present in all this? I mean, I got a house and like a life changing decision for you and I got pancakes?”

“You fucking love pancakes,” you said.

“Guilty as charged,” he said. 

“I’ll make you them every single day if you want, how’s that sound?”

“Every single day?” he hummed.

“For the next week.” He chuckled and nodded. “Love you.”

“Love you back Dean.”

___________