#with a matter of luck; santos

[bullet-prooflove]

Can you write “don't give up, it's a little complicated” with Bishop? 💖

"It's a little complicated." You tell Bishop that night as the two of you sit at the kitchen table. He sighs as he taps the ash off his cigarette into the ashtray that one of the kids made for him during summer school. Its sky blue and wonky with yellow stars painted on but he treasures the fucking thing.

"It's not that complicated." He informs you. "You go out in the middle of the night and help people coming over the wall."

Your head snaps up towards him and he gives you a look.

"Come on sweetheart." He says stubbing out his cigerette. "You think Riz can keep his mouth shut about something like that?"

"How long have you known?" You ask him, your fingertips tapping out a rhythm on the surface of the table.

"A while." He admits. "After what happened with Mari, I wanted to know more about you. How you had the connections to help her."

He leans forward on his elbows.

"The point is you don't have to lie to me anymore about what you do when you go out on those nights."

"You aren't going to try and stop me?" You query.

That's been your main fear, that Bishop will try and stop you from doing what matters to you.

Bishop laughs as he reaches out and takes your hand.

"I think I would have better luck trying to stop the sun from shining in the sky than preventing you from helping people in need." He tells you, his thumb ghosting over the line of your knuckles. "I actually have someone, someone that I think may be a good for the work you're doing. Her name is Rosa, she used to 'freelance'." He says the word pointedly so you catch his drift. "The M.C have used her alot in the past but her and Nestor are settling, she's putting down roots in Santo Padre, retiring from the life. I think the work you do would be good for her and I think she'll be good for you in terms of protection." He pauses for a minute, giving you a little time to process his words. "I know the Reed Coalition have been baring their teeth lately and I just want you to be safe and I think Rosa can help with that."

It's endearing in a way, your grizzled soldier looking out for you. Bishop is trying everything he can to not be overbearing, to provide a solution to a very realistic fear he has because he's right, the Reed Coalition have been becoming more aggressive and it is getting a lot more dangerous out by the wall. Having a mercenary on your side, someone whose seen action and can combat that would be invaluable.

"I'll need to meet her." You tell him.

He squeezes your hand tightly and you can see how much this means to him, that you're willing to make this concession.

"I'll set it up."

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

GOOOD MORNING NIGHT CITY! | Cyberpunk Edgerunners x Male Reader

This is also on my Wattpad and Quotev! Enjoy!

Description: My Final Destination

Chapter 1: GOOOD MORNING NIGHT CITY! | You are Here

Chapter 2: Yesterday's body count lottery rounded out to a solid 'n' sturdy thirty! | TBW

Chapter 3: Ten outta Heywood - thanks to the unabated gang wars! | TBW

Chapter 4: One officer down, so I guess you are all screwed. | TBW

Chapter 5: 'Cause the NCPD will not let that go. | TBW

Chapter 6: Got another blackout in Santo Domingo. | TBW

Chapter 7: Netrunners are at it again, pokin' holes in the power grid. | TBW

Chapter 8: In Westbrook, Trauma Team's scrapin' cyberpsycho victims off the pavement. | TBW

Chapter 9: And in Pacifica... Well... Pacifica is still Pacifica. | TBW

Chapter 10: This has been your man, Stan. Join me in another day in our City of Dreams! | TBW

Chapter 11: Cause I really Wanna Stay at Your House | TBW

Night city. Colorful. Neon lights everywhere you looked. But that's not what makes Night City. Not by a long shot. What makes it, are the people. 

Everyone around knows the hardships and the importance of a group. Be it a gang or friends. Doesn't matter. Find your found family and your set. 

Another thing that Night City is known for is its chromed out citizens. It's not for everyone, but those that can handle the consequences get all kinds of body mods. From new eyes to even iron lungs. This isn't for the faint-hearted. 

Especially the cyber psychos that show the dangers of what it does to your body. No one wants to die like that, but they do. Either from police, trauma team, or themselves. 

Night City also houses many legends amongst its streets. Legends that give hope for a better life. One without the slums and the corpo assholes that control everything. Everyone wants a taste of that high life.

But that high life doesn’t sit well once you have it. Legends have to die at some point. That’s how they become legends. Remembered forever amongst the next generation until another rises up and makes a bigger name. 

Among those very streets was a boy. He wasn't new to the troubles in the city. They were very clear to him. Didn't help with his background.

Corpo kid, Arasaka Academy Prodigy now drop out. There was a story. A story lost to the guns and crimes. Crimes he needed to commit to live. To survive.

No one could pry out his past from his lips. It was one of those open secrets. Details, not something anyone cared about. As long as you showed and completed your share of work, no one asked. 

He didn't mind. Made it easier to hide. Easier to run. Especially made it easier to work.

Being a merc was freeing. You were respected, feared even but there was power in it. Power that everyone craved. And he ran with the best. 

Edgerunners. Maine, Dorio, Sasha, Pilar, Rebecca, and Falco. The origins of them anyway. 

After a mission gone wrong, or rather a change of targets, Sasha died. Was it a noble death? Well the news she leaked was everywhere the next day, so maybe. 

Didn't make the hurt go away. Not for Y/n.

That's right. The aforementioned boy. His name was Y/n. But names don't matter. Most called him N/n anyway. Better handle. Didn't have the weight of the memories. 

Back to the edgerunners. Kiwi replaced Sasha. She was a good net runner, nothing compared to Y/n though. Rarely did he ever do runs but when he did, flawless didn't begin to cut it. 

Never does net running much. Reminds him too much of a past that he wanted to escape. That’s why he chose to be with Maine. Was like a father to him. Better than his actual dad. The edgerunners were a better family to him overall. 

His past is blurry to most, likes to keep it that way. No one in night city needs to know about it. Needs to know of his corpo connections and give him shit for it. That was. Until Kiwi brought Lucy

Lucy was Y/n’s saving grace. For some reason and miraculous luck, Y/n became Lucy’s best friend. Much like a lapdog to Lucy. It was an even more shock that she didn’t push him away. 

She knew Y/n way before. His records were in the Arasaka archives. Part of their big experiment to make the perfect weapon of net runner and muscle. Who else could take on the old net? Project was a bust though when Y/n ran away. Away from the pain and abuse that the person who was supposed to love him the most inflicted. 

Y/n decided to live with Lucy. Maine thought it was a good way to keep an eye on the newbie and gave Y/n a friend around his age. Thinking like a father. A father who cared. 

Over time Y/n and Lucy became like siblings. Opening up to each other was a huge feat in itself. In a place like Night City, that kind of trust is rare. Not like the other would spill it. Similar situations. Similar Traumas. Similar people being after them.  

That’s when the two started going on missions together. Y/n being the stubborn ass he is refused to ever go on missions alone. Not unless Lucy was there with him. The codependency. 

“God damn it Y/n! Why do you need Lucy for everything? Before she came you were independent. What changed?”

Maine only ever asked once. He regretted it. Never once did he see Y/n break down like he did after Maine yelled at him. He didn’t apologize though. It needed to be said. 

“I… I need her okay? Things are different now. She’s like me…”

Maine only sighed. Desperation. Rare, especially in a boy like Y/n. He understood though. Nothing more was said. Only a pat on a head and silence. 

Y/n never stopped being clingy with Lucy, but it got better. Just a tad. Y/n was able to go on his own missions. Though it was out of fear of disappointing everyone else. He couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t handle their rejection. 

A year was all it took for Y/n and Lucy to become inseparable. It was concerning how connected the two became. You don’t get that kind of connection here. Not without tragedy. 

“I want to go to the moon.”

Lucy shared one night. The two were on a roof together. Artificial pizza was placed between them. 

“The moon? Why? There’s not much up there.” 

Lucy didn’t respond. She couldn’t explain it to him. She couldn’t tell Y/n how she wanted to leave. It would break his heart. But what are broken hearts if your dreams get shattered? Emotions were useless in this world. Being soft gets you nowhere. 

“Come with me.”

A compromise. If she couldn’t tell him why then at least she can show him. She can take him with her. Protecting him from Night City and everyone else around them. Only a pipe dream.

“Huh?”

Y/n was more than caught off guard by the sudden invitation. Was it even one? By the sounds of it, it sounded more like desperation. Lucy never showed desperation 

“When we get enough, come to the moon with me.”

The thought further intrigued Y/n. He didn't understand this need. Was Lucy telling him she wanted him? She willingly wanted him around?

“Okay. I make it my promise! We’ll go to the moon together! You can show me what’s so great about it!”

Lucy could only let out a light hearted scoff at Y/n's softness. This boy. He didn't know much about the world. How could he when he was so sheltered?

“I could show you now.”

“Really!?”

That excitement. Something that Lucy never could get used to. Y/n was a rare individual. Someone who showed his rare and raw emotions. 

“Yeah you gonk. BDs remember?” 

That night, the moment the two of them got home, they spent hours on the special moon BD Lucy had. It was amazing. Seeing something different, a place where corpos didn’t rule yet was refreshing. Going around the craters and the moon buggy, all of it was hope inducing. A world where no one can control you. 

As the year went on, Lucy and Y/n only ever became closer. The sibling duo among the group, apart from Pilar and Rebecca. Nothing could bring Y/n away from Lucy. Maine joked about him being Lucy’s guard dog. Whenever Pilar was weird with Lucy, Y/n was right behind, biting and clawing at the guy. 

Had to have the others break up the fight before Y/n actually killed Pilar. Rebecca couldn’t help laughing at her older brother’s demise. Deserved it anyway. Not shortly after did the group go to Afterlife for some drinks.  Lucy took this chance of inebriation to speak with Y/n privately.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Lucy’s threshold for annoyances was being pushed. Either Y/n was playing dumb or drank too much to even think properly. Either way she needed a clear answer. 

“Attack Pilar.”

“He was making you uncomfortable.”

“I could have taken care of it myself.”

Lucy huffed out a breath. She didn’t like being treated like she was helpless. Whether Y/n meant it or not, it was really troublesome and irritating. He hovered over her. She didn’t quite understand why. 

“I know…”

“Then why?”

The pause. It was deafening despite the music playing around them. 

“I… You’re so amazing and you gave me so much even with knowing me for a short time. You’re like my family Lucy. More so than Maine and Dorio and everyone else. You’re my sister. Someone who knows my struggles on a personal level. I owe you so much. I want to protect you.”

Eyes widened at the admission. God Y/n really was an idiot. 

“You don’t have to repay me for anything.”

“I do though.”

“You don’t!”

It was a cycle of ‘I dos’ and ‘don’ts’ until Y/n started to tear up. God did Lucy make him feel so vulnerable. ‘

“I do! Because if I don’t I’ll turn around and you won't be there anymore. One day I’ll wake up and you won’t be there. You don’t realize how much I need you in my life! I have no one else!”

Guilt. The god damn guilt. Y/n’s tears fought hard not to be released but it was a war lost. Gleaming droplets cascaded down Y/n’s cheeks, making the boy look like a child. No one could ever stay mad at him.

In this moment of vulnerability, Lucy wrapped her arms around Y/n. She decided against speaking. No more words needed to be shared. Y/n didn’t need to be upset further. Only Lucy saw these tears. Weakness didn’t need to be shared with peering eyes. 

A few more instances happen where Y/n went feral when something happened to Lucy. No one could ever stop him and neither did they really care. As long as the job got done then why did it matter?

It did help with disputes and fights. Y/n being the main muscle with Maine. Taking care of all the fist related business together. Now, no one was lacking in muscle within the crew but Y/n almost had Maine beat with the power of his punch. 

A few more months passed. Time never mastered though. Both Lucy and Y/n were out and about. They ended up in Corpo Plaza. A place Y/n never liked, not just because of the name but because of the people around and the worst building that stood tall. Arasaka Tower. If capitalism could be personified, it would be Arasaka Tower. 

The two had planned to do some odd jobs around the area, maybe pick some sockets or something. Anything to keep them busy and make money. Y/n stood with Lucy while she smoked. He never participated in it himself. The habit reminded him too much of someone. But when Lucy did it, he couldn’t help but want to be around. 

While Y/n’s eyes watched the smoke plume around the already suffocating atmosphere, he couldn’t help but see how much Lucy stood out. Compared to everyone else around them, Lucy could be seen from everywhere. It was the hair. 

Y/n blinked a few times. He thought he was tripping but he didn’t remember taking anything before. Lucy's hair sparkled. What was this?

He wasn’t the only one who noticed. 

Y/n’s eyes trailed over and noticed a boy looking at the back of Y/n’s head. He looked familiar. Y/n was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the voice that soothed him over and over. 

“What are you staring at?”

Y/n froze. Lips nursing as if he was caught doing something wrong. What made it more anxiety inducing was Lucy didn’t even look at Y/n. 

“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

“You're a bad liar, Y/n.”

Y/n didn’t respond. He just glanced over to see the boy that had been staring was gone. 

“What are we doing here anyway?”

“We have a job to do. Maine wanted us to keep busy.”

Y/n the ever obedient personification of a puppy nodded along and followed Lucy. Doing everything he was told. An old habit. A habit hated himself for. He hated him for. 

The day was spent with the two of them working to bring in eddies. That night had a full moon, which led to Y/n dragging Lucy to the badlands to watch the moon. It was calm and quiet. Something that could be seen as off putting, but it wasn’t.

It was… nice.

“Why’d you bring me here?” “Wanted to look at the moon with you. It’s clearer out here. I found this spot when I was driving around with Maine.”

Lucy felt so happy that Y/n took her fascination with the moon seriously. Many would think it was stupid to want to go somewhere that failed. But it wasn’t that to Lcuy, and it certainly wasn’t to Y/n. 

Y/n would defend Lucy’s dreams till the day he died. And even then he would keep defending her. 

No more words were exchanged. Only silence and the distant sounds of cars every now and then on the dirt road.  Moments like these under the moonlight were never taken for granted. 

Here was where Y/n belonged. His purpose. His family.

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[kitsantoss]

[Andre Lamoglia, Cis Man, He-They ] — whoa! Kit Santos just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for 8 YEARS, working as a WRITER. that can’t be easy, especially at only 29 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit SNARKY and YAPPY , but I know them to be ENERGETIC and CHARMING. whatever. I guess I’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to BROOKLYN! — (Juicy, 21+, est, any, n/a)

tw: cancer, death

Life can be pretty fucking shitty, and that all rings especially true when you’re young and think of nothing but the future, of growing up, never truly appreciating the time of your youth. Kit had learned this lesson early on, a child of the system, the byproduct of high school sweetheart love, two so enamored yet unprepared for the harsh reality of the world, so that baby that came out of spurious love would never know his parents, or at the very least those he shared DNA with. Not that it mattered as he never really lived in the system for long as some hopeful couple had wanted a baby for so long, but they just didn’t have any luck, so in some ways Kit was their miracle child. Besides the somewhat cautionary tale that was his birth, life was pretty normal for him, he was good in school, was an honor roll student all the way up until senior year when he was ready to venture out into the world and become a professional. At least, that was the plan, that’s what most young adults did once their high school career was over, go into higher education, get a degree, and make a career out of it. But on a night out with friends, one of the many that he’d come to know a night that was supposed to be like any other, his world turned upside down. Kit had passed out during one of the school’s football games, walking into the parking lot with his friends as they all celebrated the victory, he collapsed as he fell to catch up to them, and that was all he could recall as the darkness that was trying to invade from his peripheral took over.

The diagnosis was adenocarcinoma, and the fainting spell was brought on due to dehydration probably from the upchucking that he had done at home prior, thinking it must’ve been the corn dog he had ate that just didn’t sit with right him. They told him and his family about the available procedures and all that they could offer, and Kit couldn’t think, he couldn’t say a single word, all he could do was sit there and listen as the fear hit him like a truck. It dashed all his hopes and dreams of the future, as it looked grim, but he was up for the fight, as they call it. As if this thing was just another type of battlefield that he was wholly unprepared for, but he wanted to live, so what other choices were there? After a year in treatment, things started to take a turn for the worse, the doctors were giving up hope, and the look on his parents face as they tried to assuage the news didn’t help. Kit was left in that hospital bed looking at all the stories from his friends, moving on with their lives, going off into college, and he was just stagnant, deteriorating, as if his own body was waging a war with itself. After being told he only had maybe less than a year, he decided to spend his few remaining days in a place he had found online. A place that housed kids like him, kids who were terminal and wanted a better way to spend the rest of their remaining days. So as his bags were packed, he ventured off to what might be       the best time in his life.

It felt like Hospice, except all the inhabitants were young, about his age, just young adults that for better or worse, lived their life as best as they could within this abode. He settled in quickly, made friends with the other kids and found in them a second family. They would all do everything together, they’d all tell the wildest stories that they could come up with, say what they would do if they ever got out that place. They’d steal alcohol, drink together, find themselves in the woods making a little bonfire, and Kit figured that it might not be so bad to go if you were surrounded by people who truly loved and cherished you, and knew exactly what you were going through. Kit met a boy, and their feelings for each other sparked quickly, it was beautiful and wild and real, and all the things’ people wish for, so he thought of himself as lucky in that aspect. That he got to experience what felt like love, real love, at least if only even for a little while. They promised they’d marry if they ever got out, but as the story goes, the good times can’t last. It should’ve been obvious given all their circumstances, but it still hurt, hurt like hell to know that seat at the table would never be filled by that person ever again. Here, he began to write, began to immortalize the people he loved in his stories, gave them all the grandeur and fantasy that they deserved. In his stories they got to live, carry out their lives, he gave them adventures, romance, every other amazing thing he could think of that he knew they’d enjoy. Little by little all these stories became a book, the first of many that he would never publish, at least, he didn’t think about it at first, didn’t think he’d ever get to see his work out there in the world. These were just stories he made for his friends, of his friends, and ones that he would keep for life…or at least until his time. Kit experience heartache many other times, as a lot of the faces he knew and loved had vanished, and their big group had dwindled, but even so they never truly left, not while there were pages and lips that said their names.

Then another miracle happened, the miracle baby of his parents got one for himself, new results that said he wasn’t terminal, and that while not fully recovered it meant he could put his life back on track. He was happy, sad, guilty, angry, confused, so many things all at once because…why him? Survivor’s guilt is common, and he knew that, be he didn’t know how visceral it would truly be until he was one himself, a survivor. After he left, he promised to himself to keep them all alive, and he did, his book got published and a bestselling author he became. That one book spawned an entire series, and he had made his friends ever living in those pages that millions of others now read, they fell in love with the same people he did, but they would never truly know how amazing each of them were, not like he did. Now he lives comfortably, playing the same video games one of his friends would’ve raved about, as if he had had kept something each of them loved and carried it with him forever, or as long as that could be. Still, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever find love, or a love as beautiful as his first, survivor’s guilt is a bitch, but it’s the bitch that he carries deep within his heart, and he doesn’t know if there’s anybody who could mend it, those battle scars.

[ruvviks]

– Beautiful Crime.

Characters >> Cassidy Shaffer (oc), Sebastian Vidal (other's oc) Total >> 3.1k words Warnings >> Blood mention, injuries, mild violence

The building stood tall and abandoned.

It was a miracle they had not taken it down yet; in the midst of a busy neighborhood in Santo Domingo, a safety hazard more than anything else at that point. No one bothered to do maintenance and sooner rather than later it was bound to start falling apart- but until then it would remain a safe haven for junkies and unfortunate souls without a place to call home alike.

And one man’s home is another man’s vantage point.

Light, careful footsteps; yet the clacking of his heels on the cold floor still echoed through the concrete staircase with each gentle footfall, the emptiness of the building an overwhelming presence in the cool interior air.

He had not been there before. In the district, yes- but never that specific neighborhood, never that specific building. Most of the jobs he took did not take him further south than Heywood, yet now he found himself near the Badlands; which truly was the last place he wanted to end up in.

A curious location; a white picket fence suburban house in a white picket fence suburb- next to a building about to collapse, no less- and Cassidy failed to see the strategic advantage of it all. He strongly doubted it was a home base of any sorts; most likely nothing more than a temporary refuge, or a safehouse, or a rendezvous.

Eliminate their leader.

Not a first. Many gang leaders in Night City had died by Cassidy Shaffer’s hands, no questions asked, no setbacks, and no dire consequences. It never got rid of the threat at hand- a new leader was more than often easily appointed, especially Maelstrom could get it done in less than an afternoon’s work- but the pay was good, and if done well it would at least render them inactive for some days as they tried to reorganize.

Though this was different.

A smaller gang with little public information, and essentially an empty case file in the NCPD database. Not unheard of, though; and if anything, organized better than most if not all the other gangs in town.

Cassidy found his way to one of the top floors of the building and briefly slowed his pace, glancing through a window to take a careful peek down. He was not fond of heights; or buildings on the verge of collapse, for that matter. Yet it was necessary at times, and he rather committed for a job well done than halfass it for a selfish sense of security. The latter really did not bring him any closer to his payment.

It was a decent angle. Not optimal, but he had worked with less in the past; had landed flawless hits from just around a corner on several occasions, so naturally this should not be any issue for him. He let a sharp exhale leave his lips while swinging the sniper rifle off his shoulder, and he kneeled down to reach the mechanism to open the ceiling-high window of the outer wall of the building.

It had not been easy to track them down. He’d had crumbs to work with, snippets of information with most detes expunged leaving just enough to at least limit his options to several districts- and at the end of the day it hadn’t even been of value to him, considering how he had finally gotten on their trail.

A purchase. One black coffee, paid via transfer rather than cash- which is why it had popped up for Cassidy during his deep dive in the Net. Clearly a slip-up, a mistake; thus far his target had been nothing but thorough, and this opportunity had been caused by pure luck more than anything else.

But Cassidy could not complain. His client had given him nothing to work with and he had needed to do everything himself; steps he was willing to take, as long as he would be compensated well for it, of course. But money had not been an issue. It rarely was, considering the kind of people he was contracted by; though much like his target, this was different, still.

A mysterious client. No name, no face- no real voice, even. As if Cassidy had been talking with a computer, those brief five to ten minutes they had spoken together. He did not mind the secrecy, understanding very well that sometimes privacy was of great importance for an assassination; and thus he had not questioned it, and had done the job that had been asked of him without complaining.

None of it mattered either way. Cassidy was rarely one to ask many questions; he had already found early on they usually did not help either way, as Night City was corrupted to its very core. Nowadays, the only questions he asked were for himself; following his own set of rules, carefully established for the sake of his own sanity.

The only question that had mattered to him, was whether or not his client was aligned with any corporation. A simple question, often met with a simple answer; a “yes” would cause him to walk away, and a “no” would give him something to hold against them would it ever turned out they lied.

People tended to not care. Lying was part of his line of work. Yet Cassidy still valued honesty above all else; knowing someone lied to him, something he wouldn’t have known had he never asked, gave him enough reason to turn against them.

It was his way of justifying it to himself, in a way. His rules, which he followed as if his life depended on it; for his own safety. And lying was something he had never appreciated.

Luckily for him, as mysterious as his client was this time, they were not from any corporation. At least- that’s what they had told him.

Cassidy carefully lowered himself on the ground entirely now, setting his rifle on the small tripod he always carried with him and taking off the safety. A gentle breeze blew in from the now opened window, ruffling his hair and gently blowing past his face-

Though to him it felt like tiny knives and needles painfully grazing his skin, sharp jabs triggering his nervous system and locking up his muscles. He clenched his jaw and quickly redirected his focus to the scope of his rifle, trying to ignore the wind as his eyes scanned the backyard of the house.

Sebastian Vidal.

Twenty-nine years old. Most likely ex-corpo, or at least corpo-aligned in the past. And that was all Cassidy had been able to gather.

Curious, but it did not matter. His target sat alone in the backyard, and none of the information about him Cassidy had and had not been able to get his hands on was of importance in any of it. Two minutes later and the man would be dead, and Cassidy would get his payment and he would move on to the next unfortunate soul he would have to put in his sights.

He readjusted his grip on the rifle as he relaxed, steadying his breathing while taking a moment to study his target. He was clearly not expecting any danger, judging by the way he sat all by himself on that chair- add a beer and clothing other than a suit and he could’ve been just anyone, blending in perfectly with the rest of the neighborhood.

Cassidy could not help but take a bit longer than usual, his eyes slowly moving over the man’s features. The picture he’d had to work with was clearly outdated, he realized now; a significantly stronger build, and silvery gray hair rather than a deep brown, leaving Cassidy wondering whether it was dyed or natural.

He was able to see the man’s eyes from his vantage point- a curious shade of pale, icy blue, yet as remarkable as they were, somehow not the most defining feature of his target’s appearance.

No, that would be his cyberjaw.

Cassidy had seen them before, though this model was different from the ones he was used to. Strong plating covering the sides of his jaw, sloping down toward his chin and seemingly ending there. Medical cyberware rather than decorative, Cassidy could only assume- and he did not want to think about what could have caused the gang leader to end up with such a jaw in the first place.

Not as if it mattered anyway. He had wasted enough time already.

Cassidy watched momentarily as the man redirected his attention to the knife in his hand, swiftly rolling it between his fingers. For some reason, Cassidy’s attention was once more drawn toward his eyes-

It was funny, how clearly he could see them from up there. Almost made him wonder what they would look like from up close.

He rolled back his shoulders and sharply exhaled, finger slowly curling around the trigger as he slightly adjusted his angle, taking the direction of the wind into account. Rapid calculations in his head, supported by two- no, three- raised fingers on his empty left hand- and the moment he locked on target he steadily grabbed the rifle, inhaling, and exhaling-

BANG!

He missed.

A soft scoff of disbelief rolled off Cassidy’s lips before he could stop himself, blood running cold as the- only partially suppressed- gunshot echoed through the building. He frowned, mind instantly going over his calculations again- had he made a mistake?

He watched as Sebastian froze, knife balancing on his middle finger as he slowly turned to glance at the wall behind him, Cassidy’s bullet drilled deep into the yellow-painted exterior of the house. He turned back, lips slightly moving as if mumbling to himself and he lightly tilted his head as his eyes trailed the building Cassidy was in, as if he was calculating the angle-

Crap.

Cassidy scrambled to reload, a flare of panic suddenly rushing through his system. It had been a clear shot- he had never missed a clear shot before. Nothing wrong with his calculations, nothing wrong with the angle, or his composure-

‘Doesn’t matter,’ he sharply said out loud, to nobody in particular. ‘Pull yourself together.’

Another bullet ready. Quick recalculations- Sebastian’s head lined up in his sights. The man was still counting, head slowly tilting up further and further while Cassidy’s finger curled around the trigger again, and their eyes met-

Sebastian’s head came to a stop.

And he smiled.

BANG!

Cassidy blinked, the air violently slammed out of his lungs the second he realized his second bullet had missed its target even more than the first. Sebastian cocked an eyebrow and glanced behind him again, the smile lingering on his face while his gaze landed on the second hole in the wall- and Cassidy felt blood rush to his ears, embarrassment overtaking him.

‘Come on, hurry-!’

‘They’re upstairs!’

No time for a third shot.

Cassidy jumped up, swinging the rifle over his shoulder again and holding the tripod tightly in his hand as he rushed back to the staircase. His heart was racing in his chest and his ears were burning, shame tightening his chest as he descended as fast as he could without tripping over his own feet.

How could he miss? Twice, even? Luck had brought him there, after several weeks of searching- and there he was, messing up fantastically, and he knew that one way or another he was going to have to pay the price.

Only one way out of the building; the same way he had entered, the same way Sebastian’s people had entered, too. Cassidy knew they would have almost caught up with him at that point, yet it did very little to him; he would make it out alive, as he always did, perhaps with some scrapes and bruises but if anything he deserved that, now.

He turned the corner and ran face first into someone- hit them with the tripod without hesitation and shoved them into the wall, disarming them before they could pull the trigger. A second person appeared, but Cassidy was fast; leapt down several steps and dropped himself on top of them, using the momentum to immediately push himself back up on his feet and continue his way down.

Oh, how he wanted to just disappear. A setback- a first- and it was most likely going to take him weeks to get another opportunity like that. He rammed himself into yet another gang member, forcefully shoving them into the wall, then activated his monowire and whipped it into the direction of two others- they both managed to dodge in time, but the maneuver gave him enough time to push himself past them down the last set of stairs.

But one of them shot after him- and the bullet grazed his shoulder.

An intense jolt of pain caused him to double over, the sensation burning through his muscles and the few real bones he still had left in his arm. He stumbled out of their line of fire, vision blurred by involuntary tears as he relied on mostly muscle memory to find his way back to the entrance of the building.

He had to get out.

The sunlight blinded him and he gasped for air, a strong taste of blood in his mouth- he had bit his tongue by accident. His arm felt heavy and he could barely move it anymore, despite the injury being minimal; he assumed it was nothing more than a superficial cut in his skin.

But it surely did not feel like it.

Cassidy grunted and clipped the tripod on his belt, then pushed his gloved hand on the wound in an attempt to relieve the pain. He nearly started walking in the wrong direction- passing by the safehouse of his target was probably not the brightest idea- but turned just in time, and hurriedly began making his way out of the neighborhood.

It was not easy for him to blend in, being as tall as he was and considering the clothing he wore- a suit, with a long, black coat over it, as if he had walked straight out of a Militech office; but his Militech days were already long behind him.

A head taller than most people on the streets and fairly easy to spot due to his soft coral pink hair, but still, with the remaining adrenaline in his system he managed to stay ahead of the gang members, and he crossed through some backyards to get them off his trail entirely. Hopped into a bus that was about to leave the stop and quickly pushed his way through the crowded interior to seek refuge in the far back corner.

Great job, Cassidy.

He clenched his jaw and blinked a few times, heartbeat refusing to settle down as the noises in the bus washed over him like a tidal wave. It’d been a mistake to get in; but it was already far too late to step out again, and at the end of the day it was better than walking home.

Cassidy dropped his head against the pole he was leaning against, the metal cold against his hot, sweaty skin. An uncomfortable sensation, but it was something he could focus on, at least. It drowned out the noises around him, and finally lifted the heavy weight on his chest.

He was exhausted, now. A common occurrence, after a job; though usually it would be after a success, rather than a failure. He would go home, take a nice, warm shower or even a bath, then go to sleep and hope his nightmares would let him rest for once.

Another sharp exhale as his mind wandered back to the shots he had taken. Missing, twice- but how? Had he truly been that distracted? But distracted by what?

The bus driver suddenly hit the brakes, causing Cassidy to lose his balance and bump into a woman to his left. The sudden physical contact shook him awake again, heavy thrumming of his heartbeat filling his upper arm, and he let out a strangled cough to keep in a pained whimper.

‘Sorry,’ he quietly mumbled, and quickly retreated into his corner.

It was not all that big of a deal. His client, whoever it was, had told him to take his time; no rush, as long as he could get the job done. And Cassidy could- he knew he could, this was a job like any other. But missing a clear shot, not once, but twice-

‘You have a location to work with, now,’ he muttered to himself, resting his forehead against the pole again and closing his eyes. ‘Deep dive into the Net to recover footage, track them down from there. Not a big deal, we’ve done this before.’

Only partially true. He had done it before, yes- though it had been part of his plan, and not after a failed assassination attempt. It had been different. And it felt wrong to compare the two together. It made him feel bad.

‘Not done it before, then,’ he said after a short pause. ‘But… That’s fine. First time for everything.’

Yeah, that was better.

Cassidy inhaled deeply and straightened his back, slowly regaining control of himself as reality washed over him again. No one had heard him talk; and even if they had, no one had cared. It was Night City, after all- some guy on the bus talking to himself was not an uncommon sight.

His nervous system had calmed down again; mostly, at least. His arm still burned painfully, and some of it had moved to his shoulder, neck and jaw. He was well aware his body’s reaction was anything but normal- yet he also knew there was very little he could do about it, his low pain tolerance and high sensitivity to physical contact the result of an accident in his past, a result he had yet to grow accustomed to.

Mostly he just tended to avoid physical contact with others. An easy solution; it was not as if there was anyone there for him.

Another hit of the brakes, but Cassidy was able to catch himself this time and flawlessly managed to keep his balance. His mind briefly wandered back to the job- but he pushed it out of his head, knowing it was no use to dwell on his mistakes for too long.

Yes, a setback- but not the end of the world. Sebastian was aware of Cassidy’s existence now, which could lead to more bumps in the road- but if anything, that would only make it more interesting.

It had been a while since Cassidy had had an actual challenge.

Perhaps this could be fun.

[southernmermaidsgrotto]

How did you get started on your witchcraft journey? I'm a beginner bruja and I'm having a hard time finding resources or trusted brujas to get advice from, do you have any tips or pointers?

Hello! well, to be honest, I am a hereditary practitioner. Most of my current practice comes from what I learnt from my mother & grandmother growing up, with some bits from other family members aswell. I started putting effort & trying to find my own way when I was 11-12 years old, but still with my family's guidance and I've been walking the path ever since.

My first and most important tip will always be to connect with your ancestors first. They have the keys to the kingdom. Anything you want to do or learn, they'll either teach you directly or point you towards the right mentors & elders to learn from. Light a white candle for them and pray, in whichever way you prefer, christian, pagan, doesn't matter. Speak to them. Make a space in your home for them, a shelf with the white candle and some stuff that reminds you of them, that they would like. Christian ancestors could appreciate a bible or a book of psalms and songs, but other offerings could be medicinal plants, alcoholic drinks (if you're of legal drinking age) musical instruments, even food if you feel like cooking for them, feeding them is a great offering to strengthen that bond. A cup of water would also be splendid, and change the water often. Don't let it go dry. Ask for their guidance in your path, let them lead your hand.

My second tip is simply to talk to your family, if you can and it's safe for you to do so. Depending on their beliefs and what culture they belong to, they'll be able to tell you more or less about brujería and magic in general, but both your living and dead relatives, of your own blood and culture, will always be your #1 most valued source. Ask for paranormal stories, or about hadas, duendes, ask if they know any origin stories to rivers, mountains, to the world, any fables that include the native animals of your ancestral land, any tricks or charms to attract good luck, drive away evil, home remedies, etc. Careful here, because brujería traditionally has negative connotations in latin america, so older folks are likely to reject it. Instead, ask about magia, santos, curaciones, remedios, you'll probably have more luck and see they have a completely different (a more positive) reaction to these words than to brujería. I'll post in more detailed about the wording of it all soon.

And finally, connect to the Land around you & it's spirits. If you're lucky to be in your ancestral lands, learn all you can about it's flora and fauna, and it's history and folklore, and about your own family's history. If you're displaced, learn about both your ancestral lands AND the land you're currently living in, who the ancestral owners would be, etc. Again, flora, fauna, history, folklore and stories of all sorts. There you'll find more bits and pieces of how to build your relationship with the Spirits and the Ancestors of the Land, of what kind of magic and spirits inhabit it, and more.

Of course you can also try to find other brujas online to help you find your way in brujería, there's a lot of very knowledgeable practitioners of curanderismo, brujería and other traditional practices online, but as inspiring as they can be, they shouldn't be your primary nor only source, rather, take what you find online with a huge grain of salt and before accepting and using what they share, analize it critically from your own point of view, your history, your culture, make sure it makes sense to you. Online sources, videos, books even, can have a lot of useful things or a lot of misappropriated out-of-context nonsense. Everyone's brujería is different because our history and our cultures are different... and beyond differences, there's a bunch of crap online aswell. Always keep a critical eye, specially a decolonizing & anti-racist eye.

Last tip, Prayer Without Work Is Dead. Brujería is a practice, so practice! research as much as you can and then try different approaches, see what sticks, find what works best for you, and make sure to balance the spiritual and the material. A study spell to ace an exam won't do much if you don't actually sit down to study, always accompany your spiritual work with physical effort aswell.

Hope that helps darling!! best wishes 💕

[bisexual-yuri]

“(De) Termination”

It’s all in the letter

They said go out & get her 

Fuck her, it’s her shit 

You found her, that’s dirt shit

She posts nerd shit, don’t doxx her 

Family matters, they mock her 

Do you need a doctor?

Tamarind finder

He’s a real trucker

Rico’s in the narrative 

Good luck sir 

You held her heart in your hands 

You suck sir 

Edi on the phone, secrets that we moan

Bi, lovers

Go sir, no sir

Daddy complex

He’s only alone sir

She’s on the phone sir

All alone? Curr

That means dog, curr

Cats & flogs

Sir

Bullwhipped frog

Sir 

Poorly sated, heaven fated

Logan’s a stalker 

Smooth talker

He’s her ex, denied her sex

Didn’t love her

Retire to Alaska road trip with Weester 

Dream out loud, out and proud

That’s my DOG, sir

You can’t have her 

Heaven sent

Nasty bent 

You lost, sir 

You’re no main character

You’re a loser, sir 

Stay inside, always hide 

Watch Mind Hunter

Franklin vibes

Ali chimes

Terminate, her 

Santos knows he blew the smoke 

He harassed her 

Alex Penn and so many men 

Don’t you have daughters?

You’re a jerk, sir 

You went beserk, sir 

8-ball time 

Children’s rhymes

He says don’t talk, sir 

DV time, victim of crime

Franklin’s eyes & bad news rhymes

Bad daddy jokes & bicycle spokes

You a scary fucker 

3 green frogs pursue her

Sapo symbolism

Look for the metaphor 

My kids know me more

You think I’m a whore

No more, Chris, no more

[axeattitude]

@ronins: bad luck, it’ll do that sometimes, get you down to basics. from morgan blackhand. / neuromancer.

the lights of rancho coronado wink in and out in the shadow of the petrochem dam. blackouts have darkened swaths of santo domingo like bruises and they lend an almost lonely air to the sprawl below, netrunners carving into the power grid for the fun of it. nothing new.

the road that leads to it and then curves along the top of the dam is quiet, too. only a few cars have swept along its curve. not many people have wanted to venture into a night darkened by the reaching hand of mischief.

that suits them fine.

kerry runs his hand along the lowered tailgate of morgan's mackinaw, one leg swinging idly, the other bent with his foot tucked beneath his thigh. backed up to a break in the guardrails just before the dam starts, he isn't sure the truck belongs to morgan - it's in too sorry a state and too factory stock - but also doesn't think it matters. he had grinned at the rust-eaten ride morgan had chosen when he'd pulled up to the gate of the villa, and was reminded of the sad pieces of shit he tends to borrow himself when he needs a vehicle that isn't worth anything to anyone.

their conversation had meandered after they had gotten here, where the drive had been undertaken in companionable silence. kerry hadn't known where morgan had intended to take them, hadn't asked. morgan didn't volunteer the information either. that suited them fine, too. it turned at some point, though. to this, to luck.

"fuck, yeah. we both know that." kerry mutters with a sidelong glance towards morgan, and then sighs. he's had his share of it. bad luck. morgan too, kerry thinks, and so morgan doesn't need to say much more. they know the low of it, the sting and bite, the basics. "and you don't want anyone to know when it does, y'know? it's like... blood in the water. bait to every asshole that wants to get at you when you're down."

[elixirjade]

he can never sympathize with whatever im feeling. i just feel like someday if i break down, he wouldnt even bother and will make me feel like im being overly dramatic. how i wish i am just being overlydramatic. how i wish. i feel so helpless because no matter how much effort i put in to push against what was predestined to me, nalulunod pa rin ako. he cant even understand that people have different personalities. im a worrier, of course ill worry. why am i a worrier? nothing has been good in my life ever since i was born. i have to worry about a lot of things ever since i was a kid. he cant even understand that. sabagay, lumaki sya sa maayos na pamilya. pwede ba bumalik na lang ako sa nakaraan at patayin ko yung baby na ako? tutal confined naman na din sya sa hospital ng ilang taon, might as well just pull the plug ng oxygen tank ko nun. it would be best if i just dont exist. bakit di man lang ako nabahagian ng swerte sa buhay ko? bakit hanggang paggising ko kailangan on defense mode ako palagi? kaya siguro ansama ng ugali ko. ang hirap maging mabait or charming or bubbly kung lahat ng bagay pinagkait sayo. mukha ko pa nga lang pinagkait na rin. ano ba. siguro mawawala tong mga problema ko kung mamamatay na lang ako. ill max out my cards then off myself. wala naman sila mahahabol sa pamilya ko. ni maski ako nga di yan macontact. sana naging lasinggera na lang ako, atleast kaya ko maging miserable basta laseng. ano ba kexcite excite sa future? bukod sa tatanda akong walang napundar, tatandang panget, kung magkaanak man ako kelangan ko pa kumayod hanggang 80 ako. bat di ako nagpabuntis sa mga nakalandian kong foreners date, baka meron na akong anak na investment. bakit ba ang tigas ng ulo ko at pilit akong lumalaban sa di naman para saken. eh di nga para saken maayos na buhay diba?? bat ako nagpapakatino?? di naman ako santo. bat ba ako nagtitiis sa ganitong buhay , eh pwede naman ako magpakamatay? tinuloy ko na lang din pala dati kong attempt, pota kasi eh. kainis. napakawalang kwenta kong tao. dasurb kolahat ng bad luck. bigay niyo saken lahat l. ako na lang gawin niyong deity ng bad luck

[khasmc]

Where do you hold your love?

Tony

you hold your love in your heart. love is intrinsic, inevitable, love is the beating core of everything; love is also hard to talk about. your love comes out with more rareness, mostly shows up for the big things in a big way- this doesn't mean it doesn't beat for the small stuff, you feel it all, in fact you feel it more intensely than most which is why it's so hard to get out. you hold your love inside you because it matters, it might be the only thing that does.

Rose & Santos

you hold your love on your shoulders; a weight to bear but one you're not crumbling under. love for you is heavy, big- it makes up everything, the world is comprised entirely of love and you know it. this can make you feel smaller than you'd like to, like you have an obligation to be a part of it, or maybe an obligation to create a love so massive it marks itself as different- greater, a task to take upon yourself. but doesn't all love feel different? and isn't all love great?

Sophia

on your tongue. your love is language. it's the way you say goodbye, good morning, how was your day?. love for you is less something to talk about and more something that weaves itself into your speech without permission (and, of course, with it). love comes out of you everyday in the easiest way to understand; what's the point of feeling it if you don't say it? sing it? scream it? it bubbles up and spills over anyway.

[glitterandgoldrush]

can you give me some fluffy headcanons to go into a procedure with? i’m very nervous and your headcanons always relax me. you got me through eating lunch alone freshman year and through 2 other procedures. i will take any crumbs from any fandoms your in (kmc-verse, hs, etc)

why’d this make me tear up

good luck with your procedure!! i’m sure everything will be okay ❤️❤️ here’s some fluffy oouil headcanons for you <33

we all know that in the books, addy is obsessed with finding flaws in kris bc he’s so perfect. when she finds out kris birthmark on shoulder, and are scar on his jaw from nicking it shaving, addy is thrilled and she jokes they’re his “only imperfections”

they’re always edited out of his shoots so kris feels a bit ‘meh’ about them

they are coopers favourite thing about him

the b4 come to all of addy’s track meets, all of cooper’s games in high school, and bronwyn’s recitals. they always bring a bunch of the person’s favourite flowers and cooper ALWAYS records a video

when nate graduates from the local college he doesn’t tell anyone bc he feels like it isn’t a big deal. of course bronwyn already knows exactly when his graduation is—she looked it up. they all turn up and to this day nate swears up and down that he didn’t cry, but they all saw the tears in his eyes

when maeve travels with addy, she takes photos of all her meals and sends them to luis with brief descriptions of what they are. when she gets back, he learns how to make all her favourites from the trip

nate orders food to bronwyn’s dorm without telling her to make sure she eats

kris paints a picture for addy’s new bedroom when she moves in and she hangs it right above her bed

speaking of, addy has a million polaroid photos of everyone strung across her room, and when she misses them, she’ll sit down and go through all of them

they all have an agreement that no matter what is happening in their lives, they all have to meet up at LEAST once a month for dinner

they always take ages to decide where to have this dinner as if they’re not going to land on café contigo

(they always do)

(in fact, mr santos has literally put the back table aside for them at practically all times)

they all hate being recognised and the first time cooper was recognised for baseball instead of the murder allegations, he almost cried because he felt like everything was going back to normal

they alternate who gets to pick the activity when they go out—but this doesn’t really work bc nate truly doesn’t care, and will fold to the first bit of pressure from addy or bronwyn

cooper never folds: they watch a LOT of sport as a group consequently

sometimes the b4 will call kris over when cooper and luis are on a non stop baseball rant bc he is the ONLY one who can distract coop long enough to make the conversation end

they have sleepovers in addy’s living room, in blanket forts, like children

cooper and kris are often too tall to even fit, their legs hang out the end

addy gets an extra long blanket just to cover them

maeve and addy try to bake together and they are TERRIBLE at it. addy gets much better over time, maeve never improves. the others choke down the food anyway.

[joannasteez]

𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: EZ Reyes x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Mature Themes.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.7k

Credits to who made the gif @angelreyesgirl

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @brownsugarcoffy @elektriknachosss @queenbeered

Let me know if you’d like a tag!!!

✞

Your annoyance was simmering, daring to merge into the depths of some irreversible state of agitation. The engine of the classic Dodge Charger RT in your possession had, with incredibly poor timing, began to knock. The unsavory noise resonating into the thick air of the street, stilled heat of the day pushing back the regular ebb and flow of the Santo Padre streets to make way for the obnoxious sound of your engine. Your head was spinning, dazed by the bitter humidity and a steady brew of fear trembling in your fingers to dance just under the surface of your skin. The classic car was given by your father, who'd gotten it from his father, the mass of glistening matte black metal of significant value. If the engine failed, you'd be reduced to tears, wading in the dread of some existential crisis.

Your grandfather had had this car for twenty years, the imprint of his essence etched into the leather seats, and when he became grey and withered, he relinquished it to your father for another fifteen years, till finally, it was yours.

You pulled over just as the last knock sounded, the tremble in your fingers worsening. Your eyes welled, sure to leave a soft red glassiness. The need for air consumed you, the space to walk freely about, a puff of smoke or two maybe.

The pavement was hard under your feet, slam of the door accented by vexation. You picked behind your ear, that nicely rolled spliff safely kept and waiting to be lit. The lighter in your front pocket an easy grab, the flicker of orange a short friendly blaze as it singed the paper. The pull you took was slow, measured, as if to savor this minuscule moment of stillness that lived among others not so still. Not so peaceful. With release, you blew into the air, dried eyes taking in the vast blue of the sky. The never ending expansion blurring your vision as your mind sifted through slim courses of action. If you could just get the car to your garage, then you could figure the battery out on your own, saving time you didn’t have on a mechanics trips you couldn’t afford. All you needed was a—

"Need a boost?"

"Yes". The answer was so quick, it nearly gave you whiplash. The tension in your bones dissipating as you got rid of the sizzling flame around your spliff.

The stranger spun his car from its position just beside yours, the hood of it now facing yours head on before he turned it off and got out.

"Thanks so much for this".

"No problem. It's a nice ride you got, don't really see too many classics rolling around Santo Padre much", he said, eyeing the shine of the paint job. His fingers skimming the hood before he lifted it. "Where'd you get it?"

You step closer to him, a grin stretching your lips at his admiration. The RT was your pride and joy, the height of your ego bursting through to rise above some invisible ceiling whenever folks gave it compliments and stares of approval. "My dad had it for a while, gave it to me when he couldn't keep up with it anymore".

With a nod, he retrieved the cables from his trunk, the wide stretch of his back shifting just under the white fabric of his t-shirt to reveal the curve and ripple of muscles. They traveled down his arms, the bulge of them mixing with defined veins that ran across thick powerful looking fingers. He stretched one of those hands out toward you.

"Ezekiel Reyes".

You considered his hand for a moment, slipping it into your own as your eyes racked him with all the subtlety you could muster. It mustn't have been enough because that innocent friendly smile he gave you had turned into something more knowing. He knew you were checking him out but he didn't mind much. "Y/N".

His thumb skimmed the back of your hand just before letting go, turning his attention to attaching the cables to both cars properly. You minded his movements with the cables closely, triple checking the order in which he connected them with a hawks eye, a concentrated intensity that your dear old Charger RT deserved. Abruptly then, like the quickness of a blink or some single strike of lightning, a thought came to you. "Wait, not Reyes as in Carniceria Reyes?"

"Yeah it's my pops shop",

"Felipe's a real sweet guy. It's not everyday you can look through a deep book collection while the butcher cuts up your dinner". You paused, giving the beauty of his face another glance. "He should've warned me though, never told me both his sons were so handsome".

"You met Angel", he stated, a low dip in his tone. Was it disappointment?

"A couple of weeks ago. He was passing through when I stopped by to pick up somethings. He's a real charmer your brother, but I wouldn't worry. I don't think he's messed up your chances just yet", you flirted.

The assurance produced from him a toothy grin. "I'm not worried".

Silence took ahold of you then, anticipation of the moment charging the pressure in your chest to fall straight to your gut. ‘Please work' you whispered while swinging the door wide to slide into the warm leather of the drivers seat. With the key in the ignition, you twisted your wrist forward, a huff of relief puffing from your chest when the engine roars to life. You close the door quick, that relief bubbling under your skin, your head sticking out the window.

"Thanks again Reyes".

He stepped to the window, those warm endearing eyes taking in the summer glow of your face. His tongue slipped just over the plump flesh of his bottom lip. It was a rosy color, the curving dip of it enticing. He liked the way you said his last name.

"It's no problem".

You put your RT in reverse, backing away from his broad body. "See you around?"

"Maybe", he called.

You speed off, the rev of the engine blending into the ebb and flow of the town once again. Existence dipping into the horizon.

✞✞✞✞✞

You'd saw him again at some hole in the wall you frequented at. The smooth slow tempo of some classic 70s song strumming through the stereo to seep into your ears richly like fresh honey. The atmosphere was subdued, the short clinks of beer bottles and incomprehensible murmurs of frivolous conversations sating the air. It was the perfect place to think, to allow your mind to wander directionless through the never ending abyss of happenings and circumstances that had presented themselves down through the week. You made idle chitchat with the bartender about a laundry list of things of no particular significance, small smiles and light chuckles ringing from you both every now and then.

The night was going good, till you felt a creeping touch just at the low end of your back.

"Let me buy you a drink". The voice was rusted, withered by too much tobacco.

You held up the beer in your hand. "I've got already, I'm good".

This guy was tipsy, blood red creeping into his eyes, body swaying just the slightest bit. "Don't be like that, let me buy you another".

"I said I'm good", you asserted. The coolness of the bottle creating a tingling sensation in your hand. You'd crack it over his head if he touched you again.

"Sorry I'm late, everything alright?", another voice asked, but this one you knew. That deeply textured tone wrapping sweetly around your senses. You tore your irritated gaze set on the almost-drunk guy, softening it as you took Ezekiel in. He looked slightly different, refreshed it seemed, or maybe it was just his barbered hair. A Mayans kutte rested over him, comfortable like a second layer of skin, the black leather accentuating the swell of his muscles. You'd have to figure out later why your eyes diverted to them so often, they were becoming a hindrance to your thinking.

"Everything's good now", you played. Giving him a light peck to the cheek to sell the story. His arm wrapped around you in what appeared to be some reflexive reaction, all natural like he'd done it countless times before. When he realized Ezekiel wasn't leaving, the guy swayed away in true tipsy fashion. Mumbling incoherent things with a griped attitude. Ezekiel took his chair, the proximity of it in regards to yours making the point of his knee knock and slide the smooth plain of your jeans. You watched him take a glance over the bar before he called for a beer.

"Thanks for that".

"No problem", the corner of his lip turning up. "Seems like you've been needing my help a lot lately".

"Don't flatter yourself Reyes, this is just a coincidence".

"Any reason why you're at a bar alone?"

Your face screwed up in a show of confusion, but you could guess quickly the reason for the question. "Any reason why you're at a bar alone?"

He sipped at his beer. "Outside gets loud sometimes y'know, hectic. It's quiet in here. Good place to think".

"Exactly".

"A little unsafe for you though no?" And there it was.

"Everywhere's unsafe for me Ezekiel, I'm a woman. I mean I couldn't guarantee safety in my own home if I wanted to, but that's just how the world works". You paused, mischief rising in your face. "Don't worry though, I've got a little surprise for anyone who wants to test their luck".

"Oh really".

"Yeah, you men are dangerous out here. I gotta be prepared always".

His brows furrowed. "That's a bit of a big generalization to make".

"But if it's true it's true. Name one thing a man doesn't get dangerous about. Doesn't even have to be rejection", you say, turning to fully face him.

He considers the question for a moment, staring into the color of your eyes as if he'd find the answer in them. "Love".

"A man who loves, whose in love, would do any and everything, no matter how mad the shit is. He'd risk lives, his life even. If that's not dangerous then I don't know what is".

A speck of something lit in the hazel of his eyes. As if your words had brought to the present some memory buried deep within the grave of his soul. What you said hit rather close, closer than expected. "Who is she?"

"Doesn't matter, it's in the past".

"Humor me".

His jaw ticked before he spoke. "Her names Emily, but that shits all just history now. Doesn't matter". He turned the focus from himself. "What about you. Whose going all reckless about you".

"Who says he exist"

"You just did, I never specified who in particular".

So much for playing dumb. "His name is Jason".

"Sounds like an asshole".

You snort, the teasing of a headache coming as you thought on the insufferable man that was Jason. "He is. He's got that weird alpha male thing about him. Has to be in control of everything, doesn't know when to leave well enough alone".

The muted energy of the bar rose between the two of you, each taking quiet sips of your beer. You took notice of the way he surveyed the room from where he sat. That golden gaze sifting through the space and over bodies with quick ease. He was assessing, the gears in his head turning, calculating and considering every and all the possibilities of danger. It reminded you of someone.

"How long were you in for?", you ask.

"How'd you know?"

"You've been on the defensive since you sat down, lookin’ everywhere like someone's gonna up and shank you for no reason. My cousin was the same way when he got out, always looking over his shoulder". You shrugged. "Grew out of it eventually.

His eyes were a bit sullen, as if the truth would scare you. "Eight years".

"He was in for fifteen, and that prison shit is unbelievable, I mean the stories he's told me are crazy". You laugh suddenly at a memory, the resonance of it making him smile in admiration of the sound. "He did this thing for a while when he got home where he'd only have one knife, one fork and one spoon in his kitchen and I swear it was the funniest shit".

The smile falters, his body shifting awkwardly in the bar stool, embarrassed. 

"Oh my God Reyes don't tell me you've been doing the same thing".

"In my defense I live alone".

"But what if you have a special guest over, you'd be a sorry ass host", you tease.

"If you wanted to have dinner with me then just say that".

You force away the heat daring to rise in your cheeks. "We have to take a trip to home goods before I even consider a dinner with you”.

You both give hearty laughs, till the vibration in your pocket pulls your focus. With a quick slip of your phone, you realize how fast time had gone on. “Shit I gotta go, but it was real nice seeing you again Ezekiel".

"It was good seeing you too".

You press your hand against his patch, laying a sweet lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Make it home in one piece for me yeah".

"I have to. You might need me again".

"I'm counting on it".

✞✞✞✞✞

You were a joke it seemed, the universe and fate in a gaming mood, as they were using you as a source for their own amusement. Commissioning their faithful associate to do the heavy lifting of masking their scents. The two of you were at the right place, at the right time again, what a damn coincidence. Before the present week, you'd never even seen Ezekiel's face, just learning of his existence a week or so before that, and now you'd seen him twice in a matter of days. This night being the third.

He was surrounded by men who donned the same kutte as him, curious eyes swimming through the sea of bodies as they did in every other setting, till they met yours. He came to you without a second thought, eyeing the tight leather of your pants and how they clung to your thighs. The cropped cut of your vintage top revealing skin he longed to touch. Since the first time he saw you his mind raced with thoughts of your voice, visions of your lips touching his skin again, plaguing his body with the desire to have you.

You stepped away from your group of friends, meeting him half way. "You're just stalking me at this point. Not that I mind".

He clutched the openings of his kutte, that signature grin lighting his face, even with the casting over of the nights darkness. "Something told me I'd see you again. How's your RT?"

"Good, resting in my garage. I've been kinda scary about replacing the battery".

"Why?"

"I'm good with cars don't get me wrong, but something about fucking it up just makes me sick. It's a lot of history behind that car. I don't wanna destroy it".

"Understandable", he nodded. Noting the caution behind your words, the way you spoke with such passion and care about the thing you loved. It was endearing.

The heavy crunch of gravel and sand tore through the beginnings of some silent stare, an undeniable enticement brewing. It was Angel.

"I see you met this asshole already", the older Reyes said.

"I'm not an asshole Angel, just 'cause I turned you down".

He sent a smirk your way. "You didn't turn me down, we made a mutual decision that you couldn't handle me remember?"

"Right. That's exactly how it went".

A call sounded through the dewy air of the night, signifying the start of a race. You started toward a cherry red car.

"That's me", you said. In regards to the call.

Ezekiel was confused, intrigued. "You racing?"

"Yeah, the mustang", you called, strutting over to your 1970's Mustang, adding the slightest dip to your hips. Giving the brothers something to admire, before dropping low into the leather seats.

With a quick twist, the mustang roared to life, the rumble tearing through the air, growling like a fierce rolling thunder through hazy storm clouds. Another car pulled up on your right, the blue electric color of it dazzling, clashing against the fine cherry red of your own to deliver a sweet contrast for the eyes that watched on in excitement. A woman, with a dangled bandana in her hand, set herself between your car and the other, whistles of admiration thrown her way as she gave the summer evening crowd an alluring smile. At the point of her finger you revved your engine, adrenaline pumping through your veins, rushing from your chest to pulse under your skin. The leather feel of the steering wheel was smooth, the grip you held to it steady. With the downward pull of her hands she set both cars to race and you pulled your mustang swift into the night.

The road before you was a muddled darkness, the outward spreading glow of your headlights stabbing it and tearing it apart as your wheels took a glide against the smooth road. At the mark line, you shifted your car into reverse, whipping left, back into drive, soaring back down the road to where the crowd watched and waited. Their rigid bodies of anticipation lit by your headlights, bellowing screams waning under the busting sound of your revving engine. Your mustang tore through the finishing mark, the tingle of victory surging through you.

Pulling back up to the crowd, you rolled your window down, a slim roll of hundreds placed in your hand by the guy who’d set the race up. You showed up to win and now you were done.

Ezekiel and Angel were a little ways away from your car, your voice carrying over to them. "A little party at my place. You and your guys are cool to come".

They both nodded, heading to their bikes when Angel answered after you. "We'll follow you".

Ezekiel swung his leg, resting on the seat of his bike as he buckled the helmet over his head, his fingers gripping the ape hangers, feeling the vibration of the engine as he followed the sleek vibrant red of your car. The afternoon he met you, he'd been turmoiled, plagued with the natural uncertainties that came with being a member of the MC. That new patch stitched into the upper corner of his kutte had bought a sense of pride and belonging he hadn't felt in forever, it gave him drive, fueled his determination, but as the saying goes, all that glitters is not good. Expectation deceived him, the reality of all things made clear. And that reality was shoveling makeshift graves for men whose names he couldn't even remember, but he remembered yours. Committed himself to it like the loving kiss he gave to the jar that held the remnants of his mother every time he stepped a foot into his fathers house.

He found you flustered, out of yourself with anxiety in the dimming light of the afternoon, and then at the bar, body rigid, eyes wired and ready to do your worst to a guy who could barely keep his posture straight, and now he was following behind you, backing his bike toward the sidewalk that laid just in front your home.

Upon entry, the knock of the speakers bled a thumping bass that pulsated through the floors. Your home had seemed to expand with every new corner that came into view, the walls pushing back to make room for the swell and scatter of bodies. Sweet smells mixed with more pungent ones, the hazy aroma of weed slipping past him as he walked further into the house. A hand placed itself at his side. It was you.

"Can I get you a drink? A beer or something".

"Yeah a beer is cool".

You intertwined your fingers with his, leading him to the kitchen where the sound settled some. Beer bottles clinked, the air releasing as you opened them, handing one over to him.

He gave a quiet "thanks" before sipping, eyeing the way your lips wrapped around the top of the bottle to taste the liquid. They looked soft, full and alluring. He redirected his gaze before the temptation overtook him to do something impulsive that had the prospect of unnerving you. His eyes flitted to the side of your face, an illustration about two inches or so etched into your skin. He hadn't noticed it till now.

You could feel him staring as you tasted the beer, the heat of it tingling your skin. "It's a dagger".

He reached forward, thumb skimming over the finely crafted design, it was a professionals work. With the simple touch of his thumb, your nerves were riling, heat rushing to pulse under your skin, he could feel it. It drew him closer, lured him in. "Did it hurt?".

"Like hell, but when you've felt more painful shit, tattoos like this don't really compare". You lifted the hem of your top some, bringing his fingers to feel the raised skin there. Four inches or so worth of a healed gash rested under his considerate touch. "Got it when I spent a year and a half inside. Grand theft", you admitted.

The reasoning behind telling him wasn't sound in the slightest bit, but what was reasoning when Ezekiel had awakened such dormant feelings inside you. With those beautiful, sunny colored eyes and the warm hand caressing your side, you were liable to tell everything. Truths you hated and dark secrets that laid deep inside your past. You reached up to lay a kiss to those pouty lips, the feel of them mesmeric, dazing. Fulfillment burdened itself onto you, finally you'd got a taste of that rosy pink bottom lip, and now your body was calling for more. Begging for it with such longing that you licked your way through his mouth, his tongue acting in kind. It was slow and all consuming, his body pressing you into the counter to surround you.

"Come with me", your voice airy. Breathless. You lead him to the back of the house. Your room first on the right. A gasp left you when your feet left the floor, body in his arms as he laid you against the fresh feel of the sheets. You kicked your shoes off with ease but the discarding of other pieces left behind a sinking feeling, a pressure forming in your chest to push down straight into your gut. He was glorious, the plains of his skin bound by rich thick tanned muscles and long veins. The dilation of his pupils darkened the air around him, physique imposing. This is what you’d wanted, Why were you feeling so anxious all of a sudden?

"What's wrong?"

Your body had raced miles ahead of your mind and now you were trying to catch up. "I don't know, I just... I feel..."

"Nervous".

"It's sounds so stupid when you say it out loud".

"But it's not, It's natural, and I'll do whatever you want me to do. Whatever makes you feel comfortable baby".

He sounded so sure of it, it made you believe him. You laid against the pillows, beckoning him with the outstretch of your fingers. "C'mere".

He obeyed, body atop yours, your legs wrapping loosely around his waist as your head tilted up to give those lips another kiss. It was messy this time, fueled by desperation, your tongues slow to lick as they tasted each other's. The remnants of beer still there. He took hold of your lip, sharp teeth pulling before he kissed his way down to the heated flesh of your neck. There he sucked, bombarding your skin with pressure causing your hips to grind against the coarse fabric of his jeans. The thin cotton layer of your underwear leaving you to erupt with a fresh wave of need. He feathered kisses down your body, pushing your legs up and apart to open yourself for him. A shudder drove down your spine, that soft wide tongue of his licking so close to where you needed him. He peeled away your underwear leaving you bare before him.

"Talk to me baby. What do you need".

You could hear the pulse of your heart in your ears. "Take care of me Ezekiel, make me feel good".

He hummed, loving the airiness of your voice. So drenched with need for him you were. He was methodical despite the desire boiling in his blood threatening to burn through his skin, so he'd settled with toying with you for now. Giving that sweet glistening clit teasing licks. They were measured, the constraint of them existing solely to wreck you, to kill your resolve completely till you were reduced to in-apprehensible words filled with air. The wide-ness of his tongue felt so good, your nails running over the faded part of his head as your hips drew tight circles.

The teasing, the game of it all. He didn't know but you loved it so much. "That feels so good baby, so good", you praised.

Your words were disembodied, wandering in another plain of existence as they rolled off your lips. Your senses were bursting at the seems, and then reborn again to erupt on impact when he sucked against your sensitive nub, lapping your slick salaciously. As if he'd been starved for years, only just finding you now. The line of your spine arched, waist swiveling, grinding to meet his wet tongue. A low "fuck" fell in the air as your felt the rise of your impending release. With taut, rough fingers he hooked at the back of your knees, pushing them into the sheets. The action opened you completely to him, no choice but to surrender to his will and the feel of his lips as he drew you closer to the edge.

"Please, I'm so close", you whimpered. Vision splotchy, thump in your ears intensifying.

He sucked at you again, holding his lips still as your body shook. Quivering against the sheets. He reverted back to soft licks, tasting as you rode the high.

He rose when you settled, eyeing the heavy rise and fall of your chest as he did away with his jeans. "You Ok?"

It took you time to register the question but when you did, you threw a pillow at him. "You just sucked the soul out of me, don't ask me that damn question".

He laughed, watching your eyes dim in bliss. You hadn't noticed, but he'd done away with his underwear as well, the weight of him causing the bed to dip as he came up to where you laid. His thick fingers rolled you over, setting your face to rest against the pillows as your hips raised in the air to rest against the hot flesh of his length, the veined skin laying along your slit. You moaned in anticipation, pushing back against him.

He gripped your cheeks, spreading them to see the quivering flesh of your opening, the flushed pink shinning in the dim light of the room. His tongue slipped against his bottom lip again, reveling in the taste of you as he pushed in. He groaned, and you gave a single fleeting "yes" , the thickness of him giving a delicious stretch, rigid length hot as he pushed and pulled in and out of your depths in a slow manner. Wanting to test the waters same as he did moments ago before building you back up again. The squeeze of you made his chest tight, head swimming with delirium.

"You feel so good mama, so tight around me", he groaned.

His thrust were dizzying as they picked up to set a steady pace, your hips rolling and pushing to take him deeper. To reach that place in you that would force your vision to blur and be replaced by disfigured stars. You reach to lay a finger at your overstimulated bundle of nerves, rubbing the soft slick flesh with lazy pleasuring circles that spurred the knot in your gut to grow. A single tear fell to dampen the pillow, your depths tightening at how full you felt, at how unrelenting the stimulation of his strokes were.

The sharp drive of his hips made you go rigid, the vice like grip you formed around him causing him to fall into his own high. Pace going all slow sloppy to ride out the blissful feeling.

He pulled from you, both your body and his collapsing against the bed. His face formed with satisfaction, a beautiful buzz running through him. "You know what this means right?"

"What", you asked.

"We’ll have to see each other around more often now".

[a-pirate]

This just in: Local street kid most precious thing to hit Night City in 89 years.

Christopher "Kit" Salcedo ("Gatito" to Mama Welles, and Mama Welles only.)

Yelena Salcedo was someone who worked at Biotechnica for her entire corporate career. By the time she became a mid-tier employee with some minor power, she found herself single and wanting children. Instead of looking for a random sperm donor, she realized her place and privilege at BT could allow her to get choosy and use any DNA from any person she wanted. She chose Kerry Eurodyne. She got the DNA, she didn't say how. She didn't tell anyone whose it was, either, but ended up spending half her life savings paying technicians to keep quiet when the computer ID'd him. Two failed attempts and a year and a half later, Kit was born August 3rd, 2053.

Five years later (2058), Yelena lost her position at Biotechnica -- whereupon she spent the rest of her life savings escaping the corporations clutches to save her own life and avoid her son being "repossessed as company property." The next several years were spent jumping from odd job to odd job, the two moving from apartment to slumhole and sometimes even the street to stay alive. During the lowest points, Yelena considered suing Eurodyne for child support (since Kit had the DNA to technically prove paternity), but never did due to the resources at the rock star's disposal and fear things would truly end with her losing her son.

When she became a joytoy (2066), she managed to find some tentative success and enough stability to get a small apartment. While they would be glued to each other's sides whenever they had the chance, Yelena would end up gone for days on end due to the nature of her career, and so Kit would run wild in Night City. He'd skip school, make friends, pick fights, learn how to steal, and have the city memorized from Northside to Santo Domingo by the time he was fifteen.

Yelena disappeared (2068), and disappeared for good, a few months before Kit's fifteenth birthday. Since she had connections to the newly formed Mox, he went to them first in hopes of finding her. That didn't get him much, however, beyond a few spare couches and cots when his apartment's landlord immediately kicked him out of the building.

A few years later (2071), a now standoffish, capable, and still couch surfing Kit started hanging around El Coyote Cojo, mostly doing small jobs for Kirk Sawyer and Padre Ibarra, often as a techie and car runner -- almost getting himself killed on multiple occasions until he made friends with the bar's owner, Guadalupe Welles, and subsequently her son, Jackie Welles. They all but adopted him, Kit becoming like a younger son and little brother. Although Kit’s life didn’t change drastically, it definitely changed for the better as he worked with Jackie when he could and spent the rest of his time helping around El Coyote Cojo.

In early 2077, Jackie brought around a new down-on-their-luck friend, V. Kit was initially distrustful of the ex-corpo, but a good smack to the back of the head by Jackie changed that. The three soon became an efficient edgerunning trio, but Kit never got along with the occasional fourth addition, T-Bug, no matter how hard Jackie and V tried to convince him. Still, T-Bug giving the other two the job of a lifetime, a heist against megacorporation Arasaka, while specifically excluding him on the basis of “crowding...” It stung. He helped with a bit of the preparation, most notably a deal with Maelstrom, but then disappeared from them, sulking for days for being kept out of the job.

Upon hearing of Jackie’s death from Mama Welles, he tried contacting V, only to spend weeks sending voicemails and unread messages. They didn’t reconnect until Jackie’s ofrenda, where V told him everything, including the situation with Johnny Silverhand. He wouldn’t be left out this time. This time, he was going to be in the loop and he was going to help V solve this problem. He even gave cover whenever V forgot to not talk out loud to Johnny.

In Val Vega's canon, he's killed during the Shiv attack on the Aldecaldos when Val and Panam are playing with the panzer. In Erik Kennedy's canon... we shall see.

[rose-tea-books]

my tbr:

please please please recommend more books! i literally don’t care about the genre just give me recs

(for some reason it’s mainly newly published ya books which is cool but not most of the type of books i read and it’s in random order)

The Hawthorne Legacy

The Gilded Ones

Little White Lies

Not My Problem

The Girl Least Likely

It All Comes Back To You

All These Bodies

Loveboat Reunion

The Enchanted Forest Chronicles

Every Heart a Doorway

Middlegame

Accidental Turn series

I Killed Zoe Spanos

Snowed In

Six Angry Girls

The Once and Future Witches

Between Shades of Gray

Hunting Prince Dracula

Love and Other Train Wrecks

Heiress Apparently

The Truth Project

Crown Chasers

Geekerella

Cinder

Save Steve

Neverworld Wake

What I Like About You

Girls Save the World on This One

The Gilded Wolves

13 Little Blue Envelopes

The Last Little Blue Envelope

This Will Be Funny Someday

The Box in the Woods

The Key to the Firebird

All the Light We Can Not See

Beautiful Wild

Roman and Jewel

Sources Say

The Best Lies

The Companion

None Shall Sleep

Instant Karma

I’d Tell You I Love You, but Then I’d Have to Kill You

Faith

The Quantum Weirdness of the Almost-Kiss

Like Home

Yolk

Once Upon a Quinceañera

The Cost of Knowing

Zara Hossain is Here

Somewhere Between Bitter and Sweet

Witches Steeped in Gold

What’s Not to Love

Where Secrets Lie

The Forest of Stolen Girls

Down With This Ship

The Ivies

Of Curses and Kisses

The Jewel

The White Rose

The Black Key

The Stars We Steal

Let Me Hear a Rhyme

Fireworks

The Girl with the Red Balloon

Redemption Prep

Punching the Air

Lobizona

This Train is Being Held

Don’t Ask Me Where I’m From

This is All Your Fault

The Mall

Clique Bait

Butterfly Yellow

Lies Like Poison

We Are Still Tornadoes

The How and the Why

A Constellation of Roses

The Lady’s Guide To Petticoats and Piracy

The Yearbook Committee

Sisters of Sword and Song

Passenger

A Song Below Water

The Bone Witch

Chain of Gold

Frozen Beauty

A Phoenix First Must Burn

Moment of Truth

I Believe In a Thing Called Love

Pride

Don’t Date Rosa Santos

By Your Side

Every Other Weekend

Starry Eyes

Honor Among Thieves

Tweet Cute

A Thousand Splendid Suns

And The Mountains Echoed

Lucky Caller

The Betrothed

On the Come Up

Mexican Gothic

Deadpool

Time of Our Lives

Girl, Serpent, Thorn

Unpregnant

Red Hood

Illuminae

Jane Anonymous

Gone by Nightfall

Suggested Reading

I’ll Be the One

All the Pretty Things

The Paper Girl of Paris

The Survival List

The Hate U Give

Frankenstein

Children of Virtue and Vengeance

The Damned

Excuse Me While I Ugly Cry

Counting Down With You

Where the Rhythm Takes You

Lucy Clark Will Not Apologize

Last Chance Books

A Sitting in St. James

An Emotion of Great Delight

Sisters of the Snake

If You, Then Me

XOXO

Red Wolf

My Eyes Are Up Here

Girls on the Verge

This Boy

Almost American Girl

Yes No Maybe So

Saints and Misfits

Parachutes

Lovely War

The Ballad Of Songbirds And Snakes

With the Fire on High

We Are the Wildcats

Loveboat, Taipei

All of this is True

Murder Trending

One of Us Is Lying

Children of Blood and Bone

The Wrath and the Dawn

The Upside of Falling

The Rose and the Dagger

The Beautiful

The Flame in the Mist

The Smoke in the Sun

The Selection

The Elite

The One

The Heir

The Crown

A Matter of Souls

Light It Up

All Your Twisted Secrets

Truly Devious

The Vanishing Stair

The Hand On the Wall

Charming as a Verb

Grown

With Malice

I’m Not Dying With You Tonight

The Life and Medieval Times of Kit Sweetly

Cheshire Crossing

The Raven Boys

My Almost Flawless Tokyo Dream Life

The Good Luck Girls

The Diviners

One of Us is Next

A Study in Charlotte

The Last of August

Clap When You Land

Warcross

Stalking Jack the Ripper

American Royals

Majesty

The Inheritance Games

Cousins

Sadie

The Good Luck Girls

Clockwork Angel

Clockwork Prince

Chain of Gold

Recommended For You

If I Tell You the Truth

You Have A Match

Happily Ever Afters

What Kind of Girl

Six of Crows

This Poison Heart

Love From A to Z

Blue Bloods

Good Girl’s Guide to Murder

(these aren’t all the books i’ve ever read, just the ones i remembered to note down since i started this list last year lol)

[mayans-sauce]

Positively Happy

@pantherclawz

Pairing: Coco Cruz x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: cursing

Request from anon Hi, if requests are open, I was wondering if I could request a Coco imagine? Where him and the reader had been trying to get pregnant but the reader deals with PCOS, which can make it extremely hard, and the last test she took said negative but she's had symptoms and then gets another test and it says positive? And she surprises Coco and they go to her 1st appt. And they see their baby?

A/N: sorry this is so late! But I hope I did well for this request and that you enjoy it!

You can read about what PCOS is HERE and HERE

Sign up HERE to join my taglist!

GROUP CHAT for updates!

•• Main Masterlist •• Coco Masterlist ••

Coco had explicitly said for years that he didn’t want another kid, not after fucking it up so much with his previous ones. He was glad that he had Letty in his life now and had started to form a relationship with her. A year or two after having Letty in his life, he got to know you, the love of his life, and he felt blessed and happy that he had his two favorite women with him. That was all he needed, and frankly, so did you.

You had both agreed that having your own kids wasn’t a priority in your life, at least not now, or maybe it never would be, but you still had it open for discussion in case something changed in the future.

And for Coco, it did change. It changed the day your sisters dropped off your niece at your house for a few days because she was going overseas for a week for her job. His eyes opened up for a new possibility for joy and laughter in his life watching you interact with the toddler.

Playing, taking care of her, loving her. He wanted that, he wanted that so bad, he loved your niece, and she loved to be with Coco as well, but he was scared to bring it up to you in case you had changed your mind completely, but eventually, he did, and you were more than happy that he wanted to have kids with you.

He told you he was scared. Scared that he would fuck it up as he did with his two others and Letty. He didn’t believe that he could be a good father, but you and Letty convinced him otherwise, especially Letty. She had told him, even though he hadn’t been by her side most of her life, that she loved him with all her heart and that he was the best dad ever to her.

He then knew that he could do it, be a good and caring father with you and Letty by his side.

The baby-making part wasn’t the hard part of getting pregnant because you and Coco were experts; it was the getting pregnant part that didn’t work. You tried for a long time before you went to a doctor. They diagnosed you with PCOS, which along with a few other problems, also makes it harder to get pregnant, but it was still possible. So the doctor suggested that you try more before you could look into other methods of getting pregnant.

Each test you took came out negative, again and again, and each time your hopelessness increased.

“What does it say?” Coco asked as you both waited in the bathroom for the pregnancy test to get ready. You picked it up and hoped that it would finally say positive. But your face dropped when you looked at the results, and Coco knew what that meant. “Nothin?” “Nothing.”

He let out a long sigh, his heart sinking in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and yours around him, just holding onto one another and giving each other comfort. “We can try again.”

After a few weeks of trying some more, you and Coco had given up on trying the natural way, so you scheduled an appointment with the doctor to work out some other methods. The appointment was some time away, so the weeks leading up to it, you and Coco hadn’t in your thoughts to make a baby while having sex; you just focused much more on each other than you ever had.

A few days before the appointment, you started to feel a little different. Your period was late since it had always been so irregular, so you didn’t think much of it, but you also woke up feeling very ill. So later in the day, you went to buy a pregnancy test just in case. Coco wasn’t home, so you asked Letty if she could join.

Letty loved you like you were her mother. You were best friends and always was there for one another. “Do you think you're pregnant?” “I… don’t know. I don’t think so, but I just feel different than the other times, so I figured just checking wouldn’t hurt.”

When the timer on your phone went off, you lifted the stick straight to your face to look at it, not thinking so much of it because you were expecting it to be negative as always. To your surprise, it said positive, and your heart started racing. “What?” You said in the tiniest whisper, your eyes glossy with tears that began to form in them.

“Y/N, what is it?” Letty came to stand by your side. “It’s… it’s positive.” “Are you sure?” You gave her the pregnancy test so she could check for herself. “I don’t have an extra to check it, but… it’s never said positive before. This is the first time.” Now Letty was crying and overjoyed with excitement. She hugged you long and hard, and you did as well. Emotions were running all over. “I’m gonna be a big sister.” “You're gonna be a big sister Leticia.”

“I need to call him.” You couldn’t wait for him to come home; you needed him to know right away. His phone went to voicemail, which means he was in Templo because he always answered his phone no matter what except when he was in there. So you sent him a message and a picture.

📲To: My Coco❤️

Let’s hope this means that baby Coco is on the way❤️ I’m so happy❤️

Letty and you moved over to the living room to wait for Coco’s response. Even though it wasn’t 100% sure that you even were pregnant, you started talking and planning for the baby already. What gender you wanted it to be. Letty wanted it to be a girl while you wanted a little Coco running around, but regardless of what, you would all love the baby no matter what. The future for the baby and all the adventures you all would go on.

Fifteen minutes later, the phone rang with Coco’s face lighting up the screen, and you picked up in a second. “Is-is it real,” his voice was shaky as he spoke; you could hear that he was on the verge of tears. “Yes, Johnny, it's real… it’s so real.” He told you he was on his way home to you. He didn’t care about the club or anything other than you right now.

When he arrived, he wouldn’t let go of you, holding onto you as his life depended on it. Letty joined in the cuddling and love. After some time, he got down on his knees so that his head was at level with your belly. His hand softly caressed it as he talked in a gentle voice, “I hope you are in there, little one. I love you so fucking much.” Only the appointment in a few days could tell, so you didn’t entirely hold onto the hope that you were pregnant, but you all wanted it to be real, so you acted that it was.

A few days later, at the doctor's appointment, you, Letty, and Coco all held your breath as they searched for a glimpse that you were pregnant. Coco held your hand tightly as he watched the screen, his leg bouncing up and down in anticipation. Letty held tightly onto her father, just as nervous and anxious as him. To your luck, they found evidence that you were indeed pregnant, and all of you were overjoyed at the news.

Letty squealed in happiness as Coco started lightly crying at the discovery of his entire world changing for the better, but the doctor told you that it might be too soon to celebrate. Because of your PCOS, there was a bigger chance for you to have a miscarriage or other complications with the pregnancy. So you would need to be closely monitored and taken care of.

Coco vowed from that day that you wouldn’t do any hard work around the house or anywhere else. He, Letty, and the rest of the guys would do everything for you. All you needed to do was sit your pretty ass down and relax as they all treated you like a queen.

A few weeks had passed, you and Coco were on the way to the doctor again for another appointment. This time hoping to know the sex of the baby. Coco was driving with one hand on the steering wheel and his other hand playing with your fingers, which always calmed him down. The window was down as the warm wind of Santo Padre seeped into the car.

“I hope it’s a girl,” he admitted. He had told you since the pregnancy was confirmed that his dream was to have a baby girl. A sweet and beautiful little creature that looked exactly like you that he would protect with his whole heart and kill anyone that dared to harm her.

“I hope it’s a boy.” You could see in your dream a little miniature Coco. Him and his father running around in the yard playing together as they laughed in the grass like it was the funniest thing ever. The two being messy boys and getting into trouble all the time and hiding it from mommy.

But you knew no matter what you found out today at the doctors that the little miracle in your belly would be loved unconditionally by everyone in your lives no matter what.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Let me know what you think❤️

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[crashdevlin]

Swan Song

Author’s Note: This is part Twenty-six of The Best Laid Plans series

Summary: Y/n is living life without marks and without alpha influence...but the End is nigh...sacrifices must be made.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, mentions of Alpha!Dean x Omega!Lisa

Word count: 3583

Story Warnings:  angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, mentions of physical violence against the reader, canon major character deaths and resurrections

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, where are we this week, girl? Hawaii, Puerto Rico?" Bobby asked and you smiled, looking around the dirty Canadian dive bar.

"Santo Domingo. Gotta love the Dominican," you lied.

"Where you really?"

You took a drink of your beer and picked at the peeling vinyl of the table top. "Saskatoon. Cursed church bell, drives people to suicide when they hear it."

"Need help?"

"Nah. I've got this. Just need to convince the vicar to let me melt down a bell that's been part of their church since the 1800s. No big deal." You sighed and scratched at your turtleneck. "How are they?"

"Thought you didn't wanna know about them, Y/n."

"Didn't want to be attached to them. Not the same thing."

Bobby sighed. "They took a trip through Heaven a few days ago...got a message from the big man Himself."

"God? They talked to God?" you asked, eyes wide.

"Talked to someone talks to God...and God said they're on their own."

"Sounds like God...handle it yourself but worship me for 'guiding' you." You rolled your eyes. "Sam isn't taking that well, is he?"

"Dean's taking it worse."

"What? Dean doesn't care about God."

"Think it's more that God was the last hope and He ain't playin'. What are we even supposed to do now, right?"

"Right." A hopeless Dean Winchester was a problem. No telling what he might do. “I’m sure everything will work out. If God isn’t worried, then I guess we shouldn’t worry.”

"Well, I hope you're right, Y/n." You nodded. You were hoping the same. "I'll call next time we got something new."

"Okay. Good luck, Bobby."

"You too."

You slid your phone into your pocket and took a drink of your beer. Things would be fine...or they wouldn't. Only time could tell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't answer when the call came in from Dean's number. You didn't answer five minutes later when the call came in from Dean's other number. You pulled off into a gas station when your phone dinged with a voicemail message.

"Shoulda known you wouldn't answer...but I really wanted to hear your voice, Y/n. Guess your outgoing message will have to do." He cleared his throat. "I've been thinking about you since you left. Nothing is ever right when you're gone. I think you need to know that. I know why you left. I know I was never really good at being with you. I didn't give you a reason to stay. I should have. But you...you had to leave. You had to make that hard decision and I love you for that. Nobody wanted you to make that decision, to free us, but it was the right choice and I love that you made it. I love you for calling me out on my bullshit. You always did that for me." He sniffled and you could imagine him wiping at his eyes. "And you always kept tryin', even though I pushed you away all the time. You should have given up on me a long time ago and you didn't. I love you, Y/n. I should have said it a long time ago...but more I should have showed you. I should have showed you."

You wiped at your eyes and bit your bottom lip. "I really hope you got to see the world, but if you're on the home continent…stay away from the Midwest. I don't know how big the fight's gonna get."

"Oh, God. Dean, what are you doing?" you whispered as you clicked out of your voicemail to call him back. He didn't answer. "Damn it, Winchester!" You called his other cell, but still didn't get an answer. So you called John's cell. "Where’s Dean?"

John sighed. "Indiana. He's on the goodbye tour."

You rolled your eyes. Indiana meant Lisa. Of course. "He's going to say 'yes', isn't he? After everything, he's going to give up?"

"We aren't going to let him. Sam, Castiel, and I are on our way to stop him."

"You better. He does not get to give up."

"We won't let him," John promised.

"How?"

"We've got an angel on our side, remember? And Castiel really isn't happy about Dean throwing away his sacrifice. We'll keep him safe."

You let out a sigh of relief and nodded. "Let me know if anything bad-"

"Don't worry. We're gonna take care of him."

"Thank you, John."

"Maybe you should call him, though."

"I tried," you responded. "He didn't answer." You shook your head. "It's fine. Get his head on straight. It'll be okay."

"Right. It'll be okay."

"Bye, John." You hung up and set the phone on the passenger seat. You looked up at the sky through your windshield. "I know you don't care about what your angels are doing, but please don't let Dean say 'yes'. Please. I don't ask for a lot but please give me this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You should come to Detroit." Bobby's words didn't seem worried. Everything about the tone said it was past time to worry.

"What happened?"

"Sam said 'yes' and-"

"What?!"

"It was supposed to be the end of it, Y/n. He was supposed to get control back from Lucifer and jump into the Cage. It was a good plan. Dean and John even approved it, much as they could, ya know, and it-"

"He really thought he was gonna get control from the Devil? Of course it didn't work!" You ran your hand down your face and dug your fingers into your collarbone through your shirt. "So Lucifer has his perfect vessel...what about Michael? Dean didn’t…"

"No, but John's other son did. Heaven brought Adam back from the dead."

"That was nice of 'em. The dumbass said 'yes' because of course he did. So...the fight is...is happening."

"Yeah." He waited a moment. "Come to Detroit."

You sighed. The End. The end of the fight. The end of trying to stop it. The end of the End. "I'm on my way, Bobby."

There was a dark cloud over the city when you pulled the Firebird in next to the Impala in the alleyway outside their hotel. You could feel the hopelessness in the air as you opened the door Bobby indicated in an earlier text and walked in. Dean's eyes raised to meet yours as Bobby rushed to you and wrapped you in a hug. You dropped your duffel and wrapped the redneck in your arms, happy to see him up out of the wheelchair.

"Since when do you walk again?"

"Oh." He looked down at his body as he stepped back. "Demon deal. Added perk. It's a long story."

"Family tradition, those demon deals. At least you got something good out of it."

"Fer a few days."

You patted his shoulder and smiled. "Comes down to it, all we got is a few days at a time."

Dean stood and stepped toward the doorway. "Hey."

"Hey. I'm sorry...about Sam. I know you were all hoping-"

Dean opened his arms but didn't hug you. He waited for you to step into the embrace, green eyes shining with unshed tears as he waited for you to make your choice. There wasn’t a big choice there. Hold a grudge...or hold the man you love. You stepped into him and wrapped your arms around his chest. His arms closed around you and you felt warmth and anguish in the way he held you. There was pain in his scent, anger and hopelessness, but there was a little niggle of comfort as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

There wasn’t a lot said. It was the first time it really felt like a last night on earth. Even the Angel seemed to recognize that things were done. The fight was over. Everything was about to be over.

“I want you to know,” Dean whispered as the sun started going down.

“I know,” you answered. You knew what he would say. It held different significance on a night like that one.

“No. You don’t. You really don’t know...I’ve apologized for pushin’ you away, Y/n, but I need you to know...I thought I was doing the right thing for you. I love you.”

“Dean. I know. Shhh.”

“You’re everything I ever wanted.”

“Everything you ever wanted Sam to have,” you corrected. “Now, shush.” The silence lasted for a few minutes before Dean left, saying he needed some air.

“We did everything right and it doesn’t even matter in the end,” John said, staring at the ceiling.

“Nah. We didn’t do everything right...and it does matter. What we do is more important than anything.” You sighed and leaned forward, resting your head on your knees. “I should have gone to Thailand.”

“Don’t you want to be here with us in your last moments?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah. But I wish these weren’t the last moments.”

Castiel nodded in agreement, before standing. “We should go down...Dean is-”

“Leaving,” you guessed, rushing down to the alleyway without waiting for the others, approaching as he looked in the trunk of the Impala. “Dean?”

“You goin’ someplace?” Bobby asked. “You’re goin’ to do somethin’ stupid. You got that look.”

“I’m gonna go talk to Sam,” Dean answered, heading for the driver’s door.

“You just don’t give up,” Bobby chastised.

“It’s Sam!”

“If you couldn’t reach him here, you’re certainly not going to be able to on the battlefield,” Castiel tried.

“Well, if we’ve already lost, I guess I got nothing to lose, right?” Dean reasoned.

“Boy, this is a bad idea. I don’t wanna lose both of you,” John said.

Dean shook his head. “Too late.”

“I just want you to understand...the only thing that you’re gonna see out there is Michael killing your brother,” Castiel said.

“Well, then I ain’t gonna let him die alone.”

You watched Dean drive away, knowing that he was on his way to his death. “Fuck. We should follow him, right?”

“No. We need to figure out how to even up the chances a little,” John offered. “Hail Mary brainstorm session. Come on. Let’s do this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So...we’re all gonna die,” you said, looking around the room. “We are going to this fight...the fight...to pull distraction long enough for Dean to maybe get through to Sam long enough for Sam to sacrifice himself and throw himself and Lucifer into the Cage. We’re going to die.”

Everyone took deep breaths and nodded. “It’s our only shot,” Bobby said. “For the whole planet, Dean is our only shot.”

“And like the boy said...if we’ve already lost, what do we have to lose?” John said.

"Might as well go down doing something potentially beneficial,” you whispered. “Okay...let’s do this.”

Castiel teleported you to Stull Cemetery just in time to hear Dean tell Michael that he needed five minutes with Lucifer. “Hey, assbutt!” Cas called out, holding up his Molotov cocktail of Holy Fire. The bottle exploded as it hit Michael and he went up in flames. The Angel didn’t last long after that. Lucifer didn’t appreciate the Angel from the lower choir ‘dick’ing with Michael. Castiel exploded into blood and chunks of Angel.

Dean demanded Sam’s attention, but only Lucifer could hear. He grabbed Dean, intent to beat him to death, but Bobby shot at the Archangel, which earned him a snapped neck. John launched himself at Lucifer next and he was thrown across the cemetery, hitting a large stone angel statue. Michael reappeared as Lucifer was beating Dean’s face in with Sam’s fists. You grabbed Adam’s jacket, trying to keep Michael from stopping the altercation. Dean was getting through. You could see it in the hesitation on Sam’s face. You couldn’t let Michael stop it.

“You stupid fucking monkey!” Michael growled, wrapping Adam’s hand around your throat. You sputtered and kicked as he clenched his fist around your neck, cutting off your air. The sound your hyoid made when your throat was crushed like a soda can followed you into the darkness.

So did the sound of crickets. But that wasn’t right. There shouldn’t be crickets in Heaven.

Your eyes blinked open slowly, a sky full of stars greeting you before being filled in by the vision of hazel eyes and a smile. “John? Why are you in my Heaven?”

“Not Heaven, kid. We’re alive, Y/n. Castiel brought us back.” He offered you his hand and you sat up, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Who brought Cas back?” you asked. “Because didn’t Lucifer blow him to shit?”

“Yeah. Can only assume God brought him back, just like last time he was blown up by an Archangel.”

“Well, that’s...very nice of God considering that he...didn’t want to help.” John nodded, but he seemed distracted as he let his fingers move to encircle your wrist. “What’s wrong?”

“You...smell really good,” he whispered, his cheeks going pink. “I should…” He cleared his throat and stepped back away from you. “Think everything got renewed.”

You reached up and gingerly touched the area where your concave scars were. You were met with plush, plump skin under the fabric of your turtleneck. When you pulled the shirt away from your neck, you were met with completely smooth skin. No marks, no scars. Pristine.

"I'm…"

"Omega again." John licked his lips and stepped further back. “Unmarked, pure omega.”

“I’m...this is insane. I can’t believe he just...made me...a normal omega again.”

John nodded and cleared his throat. “I think it’s a real good thing, don’t you?”

You nodded and smiled. “I think it’s an amazing thing.”

“Why don’t we go ahead and see if we can find Dean.”

You smiled a bit sadly. “I know where Dean is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Watching Dean through the front window of Lisa Braeden’s Cicero home made your heart crack. The pain was immense, a longing taking up residence in your chest as you watched Dean hold her, his nose buried in the crook of her neck. Scenting her...his omega.

“You could knock,” John suggested, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. You were sure he was trying to keep from physically comforting you. As much as you wanted the comfort, you appreciated John trying to keep his distance more. “You know he’d be happy to see you alive.”

You shook your head. “No. He’s dreamed of this, John. He dreams of her.” You clutched at your shirt collar. You'd changed into a v-neck on the way to Indiana, excited to show Dean but you knew now that it didn't matter. "He deserves her...and the kid...and any kids she might give him of his own. He deserves to be happy. Let's just...let's go."

"Are you sure?" John asked as you turned away.

"My car is in Detroit. Let's go."

You stared out the window as John drove. It was a blow but not one you couldn't overcome. Dean wasn't ever going to be yours and it was best for you to recognize that and move forward. You were a brand new omega. No marks, no scars from cutting the old marks out. No Dean. No Sam. John, well, he was being nice now but it was going to be best for you to stay away from him, too. You would do best by yourself just like you had since you cut your marks out. You were better alone.

"Don't leave yet," John said as he pulled the stolen car in beside your Pontiac. "You should get some sleep. Get a room, get some rest. Don't drive on this."

You reached over and set your hand on his cheek. "Underneath it all, you're a good man, John. I really appreciate it when you let that man out for me." You swiped your thumb across his cheekbone and smiled. "I'll get a room...but not here. Detroit is not a good place...it's where we lost Sam. Get some rest yourself, though."

"You've got my number. If you ever need anything, Y/n, I'll be there."

You nodded and smiled tightly. "I'll try not to need anything." You got out of the car and headed for yours. Maybe you'd actually travel the world this time. Maybe you'd just hunt the same as always. But you were going to try to not need a damn thing.

You drove out of Detroit and headed South, not stopping until your eyes began to vibrate with lack of sleep. You pulled over into a rest stop and turned off the car, lying the seat back and curling up on your side, waiting for sleep to take you.

Dean would be happy. That was the important thing. Dean was going to be happy with his normal life and you could be happy saving lives...without an alpha. Without anyone. Just you and the road and a good hunt...until you died.

You dreamed of Dean. You dreamed of taking Lisa's place in the normal life...so that you could be what Dean deserved. But even in your dream, Dean made excuses. "I love you...but I can't mark you." "I love you but I can't be with you." "I love you but…"

You blinked your eyes open a few hours later and gasped to see a figure in your passenger seat. You sat up and stared wide-eyed at Sam. "Am I still asleep?"

"Well, I'm not Dean so I'm guessing you're awake."

You ignored the gut shot about Dean and reached into the back, quickly splashing holy water on him and waiting for the sizzle that never came. You pulled your silver knife next and Sam dutifully offered his hand. "Why do you idiots always go for the most nerve-heavy extremity when getting cut? Take the jacket off and give me your bicep or roll your damn pant leg up, you jerk," you snapped. Sam just smirked as he pulled his jacket and flannel off. You were really expecting him to burn with the silver but he didn’t...and moreover, he smelled like Sam. He was not a ghoul. You laughed as you dropped the knife in the center console. "How in the world did you get out of the Cage? I know how hard it is to get out of Hell, but you went into Lucifer’s Cage."

"Can't tell ya." Sam shook his head. "Just woke up in Stull Cemetery, went to check on Dean, saw you and Dad...decided to follow you."

"Why didn't you say something in Cicero?" you asked, analyzing Sam's face. He seemed off. Why would he follow you instead of talking to you and John? Talking to Dean?

"You were with Dad...and I could smell you from across the street, Y/n...I knew you came back all new and improved. Wanted to see what you would do about that. Turns out...nothing."

"You didn't tell Dean you're back?"

"Neither did you." Sam tilted his head and smirked. "He thinks we're both dead...and that means he's gonna stay in Cicero with Lisa. He's going to live a normal life with a normal woman. He's not going to die on some job before he reaches forty. He deserves that...and that's why neither of us knocked on that door."

"So, you're just gonna dive back into the work headfirst and...forget about Dean?"

"Forget? No. But I'm going to leave him the Hell alone. He left me alone at Stanford for years until Dad disappeared and Jess died. Don't you think he deserves the same treatment?"

You looked away and pulled your seat up straight. "Of course he does. He deserves everything.”

“So, we’re going to let him have it, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Sam reached out and set his hand on your knee. “And we can have what we deserve.”

You looked down at his hand, disgust filling you. “Remove it, or I will remove it for you.”

“Come on. You don’t really have a reason to deny me. Not with Dean with Lisa.”

You reached down and pulled his hand off of you. “Dean is not the reason I denied you, Sam. Why are we backtracking here? You seemed to understand this before.”

“We had fun before, didn’t we?” Sam asked.

“It doesn’t matter if we had fun...because the fun stopped mattering as soon as you marked me.” The discomfort you were feeling in his presence made you slip your hand under your seat and pick up your pistol. “You were going to rape me, Sam. That kinda ruins any future fun.”

“You would have liked it, Y/n. I wasn’t planning to hurt you too much.”

Having him admit to it so nonchalantly, with a smirk on his lips, filled you with an angry fear. He didn’t even seem to care. It was worse than when he was hopped up on demon blood. You pulled the pistol out and pointed it at Sam’s temple. “Get the fuck out of my car, Winchester.”

He chuckled and put his hands up. “I’ll see you when you get your panties out of that twist, Y/n.” He backed out of the car and turned, a bit of a skip in his step as he walked away. You hit the lock on your doors and turned the engine over. You’d have to do your best to avoid the resurrected Winchester...just like his father...just like his brother. Best to stay alone. Best to get away.

~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

[spookysmujer]

Family is Forever, O. Diaz

Summary: The past comes to haunt  you and your family with Oscar.

warnings: angst, domestic!Oscar, swearing,physical abuse, attempt sexual abuse, child endangerment

word count: 4.8K

requested by @alliemariee15

a/n: Thank you for requesting and being so patient! This sweetheart requested this a month ago and has been nothing but understanding, so thank you so much! I went harder than I intended to with this, hehe. Also big thank to everyone as I’ve hit 1K followers!!! Please don’t forget to follow this blog, heart/like/reblog my content as well as leave some comments, pretty please :) Also turn on the notifs for when I post something new!

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(gif belongs to @merakiaes 🌟)

A life long dream of yours since freshmen year in high school was to move somewhere along the East Coast and for sometime that was the goal that you were working hard towards. 

And then Oscar Diaz happened. It was sophomore year when he ‘claimed’ you. You weren’t so into him as much as he was into you but he never stopped trying to get you and by some twisted fate of luck, he got you. Not long after officially dating, you got pregnant with your son, Abel. It didn’t matter that you were only 16 or the fact that Oscar had joined a gang. You two made it work.

That was 6 years ago, your son has grown into a very intelligent little boy. He is a carbon copy of his dad at that age, his thick black locks that are curled on top of his head has to be your favorite feature of his. You hadn’t got to see Oscar with hair like so since he’d already been sporting the shaved cholo look from when you two began dating. 

A lot has happened over those 6 years. Both good and bad. 

It was only a few weeks into summer after graduating high school that Oscar was arrested for drug possession. It completely wrecked you. At that point it seemed obvious that he would be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with. All that seemed to shift on the night when the police knocked on the door. The loud, echoing pounding and a 2 year-old Abel seemingly frightened. 

When Oscar opened the door he didn’t try to resist arrest for he knew this day would come. You held your son close to your chest as he called out for his papa.

You took him to visit Oscar whenever he’d ask and let him talk on the phone with him every chance you got. Nothing could get between you and your family, not even prison. And when he was released after 4 long years, the heavens rejoiced and so did the two of you. With lots of rolling in the sheets. 

That’s why you’re now in a PartyCity store looking for the right unicorn balloons for your soon-to-be 4 year old daughter’s upcoming birthday. When you found out you were pregnant again only 2 weeks after Oscar had been released, the both of you laughed, not surprised one bit. It was no secret that you wanted more kids together so it was fate to add a little girl, whom you named Ella, to the mix.

“Ma, can we go now? We been here forever.” Abel sighs as you make another round in the same isle you were in just a few minutes ago.

The corners of your lips lift as you know he has your patience, which is zero to none. He’s been a champ for most of the morning but once you had been running back and forth between stores, he began to lose his patience quickly.

Your daughter sports a mean muggin’ face, much like her father.  “I wan mah balloons!” She is standing in the cart, staring at her brother. The look of ‘I am going to get my way’. Abel only rolls his eyes and groans as she turns to sit in the cart and look at which balloons she wants.

“Cute kids.”

A voice sounds from in front of you, you smile and turn to thank the stranger but you are met with no stranger. A very familiar face. One that put you through hell, one that definitely was not suppose to be within a 100 feet of you. 

When Oscar was in prison you were absolutely loyal to him. Not once did you lose faith in your relationship. Even when you had your hardships such as the times Oscar got doubtful that he would never get out, he’d ask you to move on. Though it was never a thought at all. You share a child together, you’re bonded for life.

But to the streets if your man is serving time then you’re fair game. That’s just how they ran things but to hell if you were gonna let that happen. That never stopped other dudes trying to get with you. And there was one particular one that never stopped trying, Tomas. He became obsessive with you. He wanted you, he wanted to be the man that Oscar couldn’t be for you at that moment. But you never gave in because for you Oscar was it.

“What are you doing here? You know the obligations of your restraining order.” The calmness in your voice shows no fear but you know the lengths he’d go when it comes to you.

Tomas only chuckles to himself as he digs his hands in his pockets, “That expired this morning at 10. But I’m just visiting some homies, ain’t know you’d be here.”

You watch him intently as pull your son closer to you. Thankfully Ella has her back to you so you could have a hold on her should he try anything, “Yeah well, I don’t want nothing to do with you so I think it’s best if you just go on about your day and your life far away from here. Oscar has been out for a while now so I wouldn’t be so stupid and try something.”

He takes a few steps forward which makes you automatically step back, one hand locked on your son’s shoulder and the other on the shopping cart. “Calmate, I’m just passing through, preciosa.” A chill runs down your spine as he caresses your face with the back of his finger making you flinch.

Abel grabs onto you and holds you tightly as Ella watches the man stand close to you, “Mama, who is this?” She asks excitedly as she pulls herself up from sitting. You look to him and her as he turns towards your little girl.

“Hi, I’m Tomas, a friend of your mom’s. And who are you?” Your heart rate is increasing, your nerves are scattered all over the place, worried something may happen. Your daughter’s curiosity has worried you since she could talk.

She smiles as he waits for her answer, “Ella, it’s my birthday soon! I’ll be this much!” Ella holds up 4 little fingers and covers her mouth with her other hand, laughing due to Tomas’ pretend shocked expression.

“I have to go. Please stay away from me and my family.” You hoist your son into the cart, despite his protests that he can walk. You step back quickly and spin the cart around.

Ella is complaining that you didn’t get all the balloons but you hush her. After checking out you ask a worker to escort you out. He kindly helps you load your car as you get your kids in.

“Answer, answer, answer.”

You’re chanting quietly to yourself as you pull out of the parking lot to head home. Your heart is thudding in your chest like wildfire, you need to hear Oscar’s voice, even if he says he is busy you just want to have his calming voice soothe you.

A few rings in, “Hola, mamas. Where are you?” 

You slump back into the seat, his voice on the sound system has an instant effect on you. You exhale a deep breath, “Papa, it’s me! I miss yew!”

Ella shouts and you smile as you hear Oscar laugh, always so happy to hear their voices, “Mija! I miss you and your mano, where are you guys?”

“We just leave the store! I meet mama’s man friend.” You quickly shush your daughter and hang up the phone call. You can’t be mad at her because it’s not like she knows better or the fact that you forgot to tell to your kids not to mention seeing Tomas to their dad.

She whines that you ended the phone call, “Babygirl, you can’t tell daddy about that man, okay?” You look in the rearview mirror to get a look at her as she has her arms crossed over her chest and gaze away from you. “Mija, look at mommy please.”

When she finally does take a look at you, she keeps her lil Spooky face on, “That was mean and papa will be mad you did that.” 

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that. Just don’t talk about that friend we saw because then daddy will be really mad at mommy. Please?”

Ella’s features soften a bit and turns happy when you tell her that you’ll stop to get ice cream on the way back home. Both kids cheer with happiness as you pull into McDonald's drive thru. 

Oscar has sent some texts asking about the abrupt end to the call and what Ella was going on about, but you made up the excuse that there was terrible reception and that she has been spilling nonsense since this morning. He brushes it off and you sigh in victory.

You finally get home, very weary of your surroundings though you don’t think Tomas would be so naive to try anything knowing you were with the Santos leader. Oscar gets home not long after you, thankfully he didn’t bring up the phone call and you went about your night.

“Com’n son, time to bathe. Vamanos.” Oscar calls out from the hallway. Abel stands but moves slowly from the living room, so focused on the big screen, “Abel!” Your son scurries off. He is always last to shower because he is so glued the TV all the time.He has learned what comes next if there is a 3rd time being called. “Coming!”

The stress of Ella’s birthday is taking a toll on you because she is a very specific little girl and the slightest detail on a decoration will have her stomping her feet and pouting her lip for days. You’re definitely raising a perfectionist. 

Oscar stands in front of the bathroom mirror as he uses a razor to clean up his facial hair as well as to keep an eye on Abel who loves to let the bath get too bubbly or he’ll doze off and considering it’s nearly 10 PM, it’s a possibility. 

“How was shopping with Mama today?” Oscar asks as he zeroes in on getting a clean cut. Abel doesn’t answer right away as he ponders telling Oscar about his whole day or skipping on the part about meeting Tomas and how you were not so happy about it.

With Abel as the older child he is more aware. Unlike Ella who couldn’t pick up on the unsettling feeling Tomas had given off, Abel knew that this man was trouble. And his dad always taught him to protect his family. Family is forever and is the most important thing. Always to protect his family if his dad couldn’t.

“It was okay. Ella was whining, papa. She didn’t like the balloons mama picked out at one store so we had to go to a whole other store! I was tired of looking at pink and purple unicorns. Then that man that came up to us was..” 

Abel stopped talking as he realizes he let it slip out. And Oscar heard him loud and clear. He waits for Abel to continue talking but nothing comes from behind the shower curtain. Abel begins to cry, scared that he’ll get you in trouble. Oscar opens the shower curtain to see his son with his knees to his chest, sobbing.

Meanwhile, you are oblivious to what is happening. Your son keeps his face hidden as Oscar reaches to turn off the flowing water and sits on the side of the tub, watching his son. What is he afraid of saying that is making him this anxious?

“Abel Cesar Diaz, what’s going on? Hm?” Oscar taps his sons knee and the big, dark orbs that resemble his father’s peer up. Oscar can be the typical Hispanic father that tends to be disciplinary but he has learned that talking helps a lot as well.

So Abel explains to his dad what happened at the store with your friend. About how you didn’t look like you wanted him around and how scared you seemed. He explained how the man looked at you and how he didn’t think he was good news.

The veins on Oscar’s neck and forehead begins to bulge the more his son explained about Tomas. Oscar is aware of who he is. When he was in Corcoran his homies always kept him up to date of the streets. And it upset him when he had to hear about this pendejo from the Santos rather than from you. But after you two had a heated conversation over the phone, your next visit you explained. And when Tomas kept persisting you, you finally had a restraining order and more protection from the Santos until Oscar got out.

Oscar comforts his son and tells him that he isn’t upset with him. “Hey, you protected your mom, so you did your part and I am proud of you.” He helps him get dried off and ready for bed. After tucking his son in, he checks on Ella who is softly snoring on her bed. He smiles that she has finally gotten use to sleeping alone. He closes their bedroom door and stands in the hall for a moment, sighing and wiping the tiredness from his eyes, making his way to you.

You’re hunched over the table looking over a tablet that carries the plans for the birthday party as well as thanksgiving since that’ll be in a month. “Want a beer?” You ask Oscar as he sits across from you but he waves you off.

“Tell me about that stunt Tomas pulled today.” 

Your eyes meet his and you freeze for a moment. Your chest is rising and falling as you try to figure out something to say, “He ran into us at the store. I told him to leave me alone and that’s all that happened. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just..”

Oscar’s jaw clenches as you stare at him, your heart skipping each beat the longer he stares and doesn’t say anything. “And you didn’t tell me again because? Had to hear from Abel. Again, Y/N? Someone is bothering you, you tell me. You let me handle that shit. That’s why our call suddenly ended? Making the kids fuckin’ lie to me too?”

His anger is beginning to bubble over. You take slow breaths to keep your temper under control. With the past couple days you’ve been having, you had no energy to start arguing back. “I never told them to lie, I asked them to not mention it. It’s not lying, technically..”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit. Don’t be technical with me, that puto should know better than to be approaching you and even my own son could feel how much he bothered you. It’s a good thing I’m raising my son right to protect his mama.” Oscar stands and paces the kitchen.

“Babe, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you..again. I had no idea that he would be there, you think if I knew that I would have went out today?” 

Oscar leans against the counter, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, “I don’t know why I didn’t hear anything from the compas. Everyone knows, including him, he got a target on his head for what he did. This is why I tell you carry that gun in your purse. My kids were there. And I love you to the fuckin’ end, amor... but had something happened to one of them, a bullet would be in your fuckin’ head.”

He leaves you in the kitchen by yourself and you’re shocked at his words. Oscar has been a dad since he was a teenager, since the two of you met. You knew the lengths he’d go for Cesar, but for his kids? He’d take out anyone including you as he stated. You let out a shaky breath. 

You decide to give him sometime alone. He’s the most upset you’ve ever seen him and he is rightfully so but you weren’t sure how to fix it. You do what you think any man cannot resist, seducing them. At least this way you can ease into him forgiving you.

But when you enter your shared bedroom he is tucking his two kids in on your bed. You quirk your eyebrows up in confusion. Did he know you well enough that you’d use seduction to get his forgiveness? Oscar turns to see you standing in the doorway, “Why are the kids in here?”

“Heading out, I want them by you while I’m out.” He is shuffling around the room gathering things. The usual: keys, phone, wallet, gun, extra mag. You watch him as he looks to you, “Where exactly are you going, Oscar?” 

He breathes out through his nose and that’s enough for you to know. You don’t open your mouth to bicker as he is standing in front of you now, looking down at you with eyebrows creased together, “He ain’t getting near you or my kids again. Don’t leave the house or room, lock the bedroom door and don’t unlock it til I call you.”

Oscar steps away but stops to turn and pull your face towards his.He presses his lips to yours. You melt into it instantly, your hands grasping his forearms. The kiss deepening for a moment as your hands move up to cup his face. When he pulls back you are breathless. Craving more.

Then he is gone.

The house is quiet as you lay awake waiting for your boyfriend to return. Your fingers running through your son’s hair. Something you love to do and Abel loves you doing it too. Ella not so much though. She’s a verbal lover rather than a physical lover, the thought making you chuckle. How different your two kids are.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you hear some shuffling from the living room, grabbing your phone you wait for it to ring with Oscar’s name but it never does. So you call out to him, “Babe?”

When you get no response you climb out of bed and quietly tip toe towards the bedroom door to get a better listen, maybe he is testing you to see if you’d listen to what he said about not unlocking the door until he calls. 

The buzzing of your phone pulls your attention and you see Oscar’s name pop up with the cutest picture of him and the two kids. You sigh in relief, unlocking the door and stepping out to an empty hallway.

“Oscar?” You call out and switch on the light but he isn’t there. You click the answer button and bring the phone to your ear. “Babe?”

“Hey, this puto is hiding, still nothing just checking on you. The kids still asleep?” When the words leave his lips, you close your eyes and feel a tear slide down your cheek. When you open them, Tomas is standing at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall watching you.

You hold the phone to your ear as you watch him put a single finger close to his lips signaling to be quiet about his presence. You could tell Oscar about him, then you could run to the room and lock the door. Quickly hide the kids in the bathroom for their safety and tell Abel to call his dad because so long as your kids are safe that’s all that matters. But what if he is quicker than you? What if he goes straight for the kids?

“Snoring like bears per usual. We’re okay, just be safe and Oscar?” You pause for a moment as Tomas gives you sickening, sinister look stalking towards you until he is standing right in front of you, his hands brushing against your exposed waist as you’re in a crop top. “Si?” Oscar answers you.

Tomas’ hands grab your chin and lifts it for you to look up at him, “When you find him, put a bullet right between his fucking eyes.” Tomas smiles and swipes his thumb on your lower lip, making you flinch.

Oscar chuckles, “You’re turning me on, mamas. Not much of him will be left. I’ll see you soon, te quiero.”

“Te quiero.” You say in a whisper as the line cuts. You try to step back but Tomas is quick, as you suspect he might be. He grabs ahold of the back of your head and into your hair. He pulls it back roughly with his body now pressed against you. “You have no idea how much I still want you. I think of you every single night. I remember how close you were to giving it to me. Hm.. you remember how badly you wanted me?”

You want to throw up, the feeling of him against you and his words makes you feel repulsed. His grip is iron-like and he is not letting up not until he gets what he wants and it’s obvious he wants you.

“P-please. M-my kids, let me close the door. Just let me at least close it.” Your bottom lip is trembling uncontrollably and the tears have been spilling over since the phone call with Oscar ended. He analyzes you. Are you trying to make an escape? He walks forward, pushing you back towards the bedroom door. And with his free hand reaches back to close the bedroom door, you look over shoulder at your sleeping kids as the door closes. Sending a little prayer for their safety.

He grabs your face and plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. You drown under him, not knowing how to win in this situation.

“So what do you do now?” 

Oscar voice causes his chest to vibrate which is right up against yours. He has your arms pinned under his, “Hm, I kiss you to distract you!” You tilt your head upwards to plant a chaste kiss on his lip. He smiles into the kiss and pulls his head back, “You gonna be kissing random dudes who run up on you, hm?”

You can’t help but laugh as he gives you a mischievous look. “Well if it works for me to distract them long enough, then yes!” Oscar rolls his eyes and nods his head to proceed with his defense lesson since you weren’t so keen on firearms, he’s teaching you physical defense.

“Fine, fine. So let’s say the kiss does distract the perp, if you have him in this kind of position? Jab here with all your might.” He points to his side right below his rib cage. “There’s a nerve that’ll cause them to tense up and give you a few seconds. That’s when it matters the most, those few seconds. So think before you do.”

You look at the spot Oscar had pointed to, you jab your fingers there and he tenses up like he says would happen. He curls over and you step back and laugh, making your quick escape.

That moment plays in your head. The kissing is a distraction, he has one of your arms pressed against him and it’s the perfect opportunity. Then the thought of how you asked Ella to pick up her toys that laid on the kitchen floor earlier infiltrates your memory as she never did considering she fell asleep.

You allow him to seep his tongue into your mouth and when you do, you feel him release the grip on your hair. This is the moment. With your fingers pointed, you dig your hand into his side, right below the rib cage and he retorts back. The same way Oscar had. You use your shoulder to push him into the wall which gives you enough space to move away from him.

Tomas recovers quicker than you hoped. So when you were going to leap over the pile of toys, hoping he would trip over them, you feel a grip on your hair once more and you’re sent flying back. The pain stinging your scalp, you yulp when you hit the ground. He is on you and his body suffocating you, “You stupid bitch! Pull that stunt again and I promise you’ll regret it.”

His hand hits your cheek and you cry out as you try to get him off you. The fear setting in as his hand reaches to his belt, the clinking of the metal making you terrified of what is to come next.

But it’s the sound of a gun cocking that stops Tomas trying to unbuckle his belt. He looks back towards the sound just as you do too. You’re heart breaks into a million pieces to see you 6 year old son holding a gun in his hand. His grip on it perfect, ready to fire. His stance, arms out and legs spread apart ready for the recoil.

“Son, go back in the room, please. Just go back to your sister.” Your voice trembles as Abel keeps his eyes on Tomas. In the moment, he resembles his papa more than ever. 

Abel shakes his head no, “Get off my mama. I know how to shoot a gun and I’ll shoot you, get off her now!” He sounds like his dad too, you can only sob.

“Mommy?” Ella’s voice sounds from behind Abel. Which distracts him. Tomas takes this opportunity to get the gun away from Abel, “No!” You cry out.

Despite the ache in your body, you sit up and jump on Tomas’ back just before he can reach your son, Ella is screaming scared as Abel runs to his little sister and stands in front of her. You hold onto Tomas with all your might, the strength of a mother is like no other, “Abel, go! Get your sister and run, baby! Run to Tio Cesar’s friends house, go!”

Tomas manages to get you off and slams you back into the wall. The blow stunning you, you have the wind completely knocked out of you. The back of his hand hits your face which causes you to fall over. You cry out as you see him step towards your kids. The fire of the gun sounds and Tomas cries out in pain holding his arm.

“Y/N!” You hear Cesar followed by footsteps. He is kneeling besides you as the Santos enter the house to check it out. “My babies, are they okay?” 

“Mama!” Abel calls out as he drops the gun and runs to you, you hold your arms open to embrace your son. Your brave baby boy. Fearless much like his father. Ella joins quickly and you squeeze them tightly.

They sob in your arms as you sit on the floor, the pain radiating throughout you numb from the love your kids are giving, “Y/N! Baby?!” Oscar’s voice booms through the house as he approaches you. He pulls Cesar away as he falls to his knees besides you. His arms envelopes all 3 of you.

Ella turns into her father’s chest, he can feel her thudding heartbeat. Tears stream down his face as he felt he let down his family but as the Santos grabbed the injured Tomas and dragged him out of the house, both of you sigh in relief that the worst is over.

“Mijo, you did it again. You protected your family and papa is so proud of you. You..” Oscar can’t form anymore words as he hugs his son and plants kisses on his head. You stand from the ground and use Oscar’s arm as support.

“Cesar take the kids to the bathroom, make sure they’re okay, por favor.” The younger Diaz nods and whisks away the little ones. Oscar pulls a chair out for you to sit, he kneels in front of you and examines the damage.

You look to him, eyes feeling puffy from the crying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t listen. I put our kids in danger and you’re right, I should have a bullet in my fucking head. I’m sorry, Oscar.” Your head falls as you sob hard, the hyperventilating causing hiccups.

“Baby, none of that shit matters. My kids are okay and you are now. He can’t do anything to hurt you anymore and I promise, you didn’t do nothing wrong. We’re lucky we’re raising a smart boy. I love you.” He wipes your face dry with his shirt and stands, pulling you into his warm, safe embrace.

You all take a shower and cuddle into the bed. Abel and Ella rest in between you and Oscar, embracing each other. Ella has her tiny head on her brother’s chest, forever his sister’s keeper. Oscar sighs as he intertwines your hands together, you look up at him as he gives you a soft smile.

This morning you woke a happy family and tonight you lay down a stronger one.