#and the strain in my chest just. poof!

[dinosnaurnuggets]

Ok ok ok I am SO EXCITED!!!!! I bought myself a corset for the first time and immediately tried it on and I LOVE IT!!! AAAHHHHH!!!!

[helluvathot]

incl. alastor + gn!reader — hurt/comfort. allusions to alastor's past, argument, maybe ooc ; after the final battle with adam, you noticed a lack of alastor, and when he suddenly appeared again, you noticed something wrong.

𝜗𝜚 note. thought about writing this for a minute. i wanted to do some alastor comfort after his pure embarrassment via adam. and (as others have pointed out), he pulled out his hair during that panic scene! end note, this turned out completely diffrent than i intended to.

the most recent extermination attempt (and hopefully the last) ended in such a tragic way with pessimistic thoughts swimming through your head.

where is alastor?

if adam is here—terrorizing sinners—then where on heaven, hell, and earth is your boyfriend? alastor was supposed to stop adam. and judging by the fate of sr. pentious, you could only fear the worst. alastor was dead.

but, of course not! he's the radio demon, that handy shadow of his must've helped him!

yet, that didn't calm your nerves or the thoughts chewing at your brain. there were deep, anxiety induced breaths as you fought alongside angeldust and husk in hopes to protect the lovely hotel you ended up staying at.

the loud noises, the chaos, the screams, nothing could quiet that lurking feeling of fear in the back of your skull.

and just as the reality sunk your heart to your stomach, there appeared alastor. as spiff and span as usual, happily jingling along with the rest of the crew as the mess that was the hotel was being cleaned.

though, he didn't have his staff?

there was an overwhelming feeling relief when you jumped onto him to hug him. you felt him stiffen and promptly let go with a string of apologies. "al," you mumble, cupping his face to take a good look at him. your hands trail from his face, to his neck, and down to his chest.

you breathe and breath of relief. "may i kiss you, oh great radio demon?" you whisper, standing on the tips of your toes to be somehat eye level with him.

"why of course, my dear! why would i ever say no?" he leans down to allow you to press your lips to his. your fears, your anxiety, that stupid little voice in your head had been wrong today and you have never been happier that it was.

you observe him for a second time, frowning a bit at his hair. your lips part to speak on it, only to be interrupted.

"hey! lovebirds! help clean up would ya?" angel calls.

his interference earns a grumble from alastor and a soft chuckle from you. "ay ay, captain!" you salute and run over to help clean up the mess. though there's still a lingering worry in your head.

one not satiated by this moment, at all.

the two of you had finally gotten some time alone. the new hotel lucifer had created looks gorgeous and everyone had gotten back to their rooms and planned to redecorate or revise the looks of them.

you stand in alastor's room with a deep frown on your face.

he hates that.

"al," you chide. he's sitting on the edge of his bed with you in between his thighs. his ears are drooped; his signature smile widened and strained.

your fingers delicately examine his scalp, observing the stressed strands. you click your tongue in worry and disappointment, "al. you did it again." the concentrated, upset frown had now turned into a sad, concerned one.

he hates that.

the hands resting on the back of your thighs squeeze, signalling the tension in his body. "what happened back there? you only pull your hair out when you're stressed, and speaking, you need to get rid of that habit."

he groans, though the sound is mixed with static so you don't hear it. he never did enjoy being chastised, from you nor from his mother.

"nothing," he lies, turning his head as his ears flatten.

"al!" you whine and huff, "are you serious? you disappear when you're supposed to stop adam, which had me extremely anxious. you show up after everything's done and overwith with seemingly not a scratch, but there's a GIANT GASH in your chest! your microphone is poof—gone! you've nearly ripped out a full section of your hair, which you only do when your stressed—you'll go bald if you keep doing that. and STILL! you refuse to tell me anything!?"

there's defeaning silence in the room once you finish your rant.

the only sound that can be heard is your rough breathing from getting worked up. your face slowly morphs from anger to worry and guilt as you look at him. for the first time, you yelled at him. and for the first time, he flinched.

his eyes are closed now. his lips are trembling and his hands have been retracted from you.

your eyes widen, bottom lip trembling in regret. "oh, al. baby, i'm sorry. i didn't—i got worked up, and i— i didn't mean to yell, or bring back ... unpleasant memories. i'm— i'm sorry, honey."

taking a deep breath after your apology, you desperately and internally hope he won't mind your touch. you lean down and slowly wrap your arms around him in a hug, nuzzling your nose to his neck and biting your lip when he tenses again. "i'm sorry, im just— worried. scared," you whisper.

there's dread sitting in the pit of your stomach. the tension is too much to bare, the silence kick-starting your anxiety like a generator.

you feel sick.

you never meant to draw a reaction like that out of him...and now, you'll regret it for the rest of your hellish afterlife.

feelings of relief and surpise fill you when alastor's hands pull you into his lap, his hands wrapping securely around your waist. when you sit up, his eyes are looking back up at you softly. and without a hint of static—he speaks, "i...i apologize, my darling. i never realized how much strife i caused you."

his hand clasps yours, bringing it back to his face. he nuzzles your hand, "i was- am ashamed...i was unable to stop adam and- "

"so you're upset because you were humbled?" you tilt your head and raise an inquisitive eyebrow. of course, the statement had washed the mood away like a tsunami. and, of course, you earned a quick glare from the man beneath you.

it is no secret—to you at least—that alastor hates being upstaged. he's quite cocky and confident in his powers to point where he thinks he's better than most. this fight may have knocked him down a peg—he needed it (unfortunately and fortunately). maybe it'll help in the long run, though you hate his injuries.

"and—" he grunts in slight annoyance, "i was gravely injured. my cane broke, i didn't want you to see me like that—like this. i am truly sorry...ish."

you giggle at his little addition of the '-ish' knowing it's to get back at you. once the giggles die down, you look at him with a soft smile.

your hands cup his cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothingly on the skin. "oh, alastor...you troublemaker- you..." you sigh, "al, baby, i am your partner. one who loves you—and cares, so so deeply about you. i need- i deserve to be told that information. the point of having one of these [partners], me, is to share your pain. i want it. i want to know, so please..."

you lean close, pressing your foreheads together. with a sigh, you close your eyes and whisper, "share your pain with me."

alastor's hands twitch at your waist. share your pain with him? he couldn't bare to burden such a sweet "sinner" like you with the negative outcomes of his oen actions. he couldn't bare to burden you with the pain that weights on his shoudlers every day. the pain that—

"al...please?"

moving back from him, you look into his eyes witha pleading glint in them. "please...?"

he opens his lips, ready to deflect as he usually does. to deny and prevent you from truly seeing him. and yet, he can't. he cannot force himself to. there's a genuine smile on his face when he looks up at you ever so softly.

"yes, my darling, of course."

[unknown-writez]

The Traveler and The Jester

Chapter Three: The Summer Court

Part one

Only ever stopping at clear streams for water breaks. We spent the time sharing stories and laughing at jokes. mine full of family, secret Rendezvous on rooftops overlooking the city and his being stupid ideas full of mischief, pranks and friends. all of it making the time pass swiftly unnoticed. with the sky still full of stars and warm summer weather there was no indication of what time or day it was. It could have been minutes, hours or days and I wouldn’t know but with each story I found myself growing fonder of robin. our connection evolving into something I couldn’t quite place. It felt like I had known him my whole life despite the reality of the situation. abruptly puck went silent in the middle of a story about fighting a big frog like monster who resided in a muddy swamp and stopped walking holding his arm out to halt me in the process. a look of caution flashed on his face and his ears perked up as if straining to hear something. he then walked up to a nearby bush ahead of us crouching down and pushing it aside he looked through it then beckoned me to come over with his finger to his lip making a shh motion. walking over I kneeled next to him and peered out at what puck was looking at. In a wide field in front of us stood a group of 5 intimidating elvish looking men covered head to toe in green and gold metal armor holding large swords and daggers at their side riding on top of giant horses. “It's a hunt.” puck whispered “we must be closer to the court then I thought. stay here.” he finished picking up a stick next to him he then pushed past the bush going into the field with a big smile on his face the men on the horses noticing him right away. “Hello boys!” puck said, giving them a wave. as he approached them one of the men dismounted from his horse hand on sword ready to attack “come on!” puck started talking in a playful yet taunting manner “there’s no need for that! I don’t mean to cause any harm!” “We know who you are, goodfellow. Do not try anything.” the guard spoke back with authority “my reputation precedes me.” puck replied with his hands up in an innocent manner “I was just admiring your armor.” puck moved forward tapping his chest plate as he started to circle the man. “Besides, what are you guys doing out here anyway?” puck questioned the man who just stood still, his eyes trained on puck. The soldier following robins every move as if trying to anticipate and strategize what he would do next. “Oberon sent us out here on a mission. we’re on official court business.” the man answered in a deep voice “oh really! Did daddy buy you your new armor too?” puck taunted as he unbuckled his dagger Sheath from around the man's waist grabbing it quickly before the man could react. He swiftly put it behind his back, not stopping his circling. I watched as the dagger disappeared and reappeared in his hand before he brought it forward, opening it in front of the guy, the silver blade catching the light as it shone “I mean wow this thing must've cost a fortune.” Puck said laughing as he mocked the guy. quickly the man reached towards puck , snatching it out of his hands. With the man growing increasingly irritated, puck said “okay. Okay. I see you're not in the mood to play. I’ll just be off! see ya big man!” he taunted one last time before retreating back into the woods where I waited with a confused look on my face. “Why are you picking a fight with people we can’t afford to get mad?” I asked “because I needed this.” puck answered as he held out his hand “surprise!” with a poof of glitter the man’s dagger appeared once again. “for you in case you need it. even though nothing is going to happen to you on my watch. I'm going to protect you. no matter what.” puck said looking into my eyes a fire shining in his. “do you know how to use it?” puck asked as I took the leather sheath in my hands and buckled it around my waist. The golden handle decorated with vines on it now shining at my hip. “stick them with the pointy end.” I replied and puck laughed saying “that’s the gist of it!”

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 19 Broken Ship - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning: 18+, contains a LOT of smut

[A/N] here you go, slut puppies. Super happy on how this smut turned out. Enjoy! <3

-

Early morning.

You open your eyes groggily to see that Spike’s side of the bed was vacant. That would have been normal if you didn't hear the cussing and banging of metal coming down the hallway. You flipped back the covers and opened your door. Rounding the corner, you saw Spike rummaging in his room.

“Hey. Is everything alright?” You asked, leaning in the doorframe.

“My ship is broken. Again.” He muttered, huffing impatiently. “I’m going to try to fix it.”

“By yourself? Don’t you want Jet’s help or something?” You asked.

“I can do it, by myself.” He replied. “Besides, he was already pissing me off this morning.”

You nodded. Spike stood up straight, his face looking to the ceiling. Sighing, you could hear him grumble, “Happens right when we are down to our last dollar.”

You walked in, your arms wrapping around his torso. “How about I make you some coffee?”

“Please. I’m going to need it.”

You stood on your tippy toes and planted a kiss on his chin, patting his chest before heading back into the hallway and down the staircase into the living area. Jet sat on the couch, his head into a newspaper.

“Morning. Oh I’m sorry, apparently saying “good morning” could get my head bitten off, so I'm just going to keep my mouth shut.” Jet called out, mumbling obscenities under his breath as well.

“I guess I’m making coffee for you too.”

You decided it was best to leave Spike alone to work on the Swordfish. On occasion, you would sneak onto the cameras on the bridge while you researched and watched him work. Precise with his fingers, you knew it was going to take a while. What could be crazy is that it would be a simple fix but be so hard to take care of.

As you scrolled through the computer, your stomach grumbled. Looking up from your screen, you saw that the time read as 3:30 PM. Time goes by fast when you're having fun, you thought sarcastically. Pushing back your seat, you made your way into the kitchen. Opening the pantries, you found yourself making a couple of peanut butter sandwiches, hoping that this little thing could at least lighten the mood for your beloved.

Climbing into the rotating hull, you ran into Jet, who was walking slowly with hands in his pockets.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” Jet said. “He’s in a mood.”

“Hungry, that's all.” You replied. “I think we all are. Here, take my sandwich.”

Jet chuckled. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me. Just be careful before getting into the tiger’s cage.”

You smiled as you walked further down, approaching the door that leads into the hangar. Clicking the button, the door slid open to reveal the Swordfish in all her glory. You climbed in, shutting the door behind you.

“Hey, I got lunch!” You shouted, your voice echoing off the walls.

You walked further in, setting the plate of sandwiches down on a small bench. A long ladder that extended to the cockpit of the ship leaned against its side. “How about you take a break and eat with me?”

“No.” You heard from the ship. Sighing, you began the ascend up the ladder. Each step you dreaded to see a frustrated Spike. As you reached the top, there he was, his brows furrowed as he turned the key of his ship. A sputter, a deep rumble, and poof!

The engine died.

His hands fell from the handlebars. Your shoulders dropped, feeling the same frustrated emotions as he did. His eyes blank from the endless tickering, you couldn't help but baby him.

“Oh, sweets. I’m sorry.” You comforted, holding out your hand. “Here, come down and eat something. You’ll feel so much better. We’ll figure out what to do after we finish-“

Two giant arms yanked you into the cockpit and into Spike’s lap. You gasped, shocked at how quick he brought you in. Straining up to close the glass lid of the ship, he enclosed you both into the small space, staring you dead in your face.

“I’m tired.” He said.

“I can see.” You said, your fingers tracing the dark circles under his eyes. “So what now?”

“We call a professional. Someone who knows what they’re doing.” He said, rubbing the small of your back. “I think I made it worse.”

“Then that's what we’ll do. It’ll be fine.” You gave a small smile, pecking his cheek. “It would be a complete turnaround if you had something in your stomach.”

“No, no. Stay here. I missed you all day.” He pleaded, his face growing a small rosy hue.

“How cute.” Giving him a small kiss. “I’ll stay, just for a minute.”

“That’s all I need.”

You laid your head on his shoulder, breathing in deeply. The troubles you had to go through just to have a normal day like this. Who knew that bounty hunters could play house so naturally?

Fingertips grazed along your spine, tracing up and down slowly. Goosebumps rose as they crept underneath the band of your bra and back out. You shifted your gaze to Spike’s, his eyes closed as his weary body relaxed. A grin spread on your face as his hand began to trail to the side of your torso, still edging alongside your bra.

“What are you doing?” You smirked, giggling at his light touches.

“Just copping a feel, that's all.” He murmured, fluttering one eye open. “Why, is that a crime?”

“No. Just didn’t want to get frisky in this death trap.” You replied.

“It's thrilling, adventurous if you think about it.” Spike joked. “Better to do it here than in zero gravity.”

“True.” You watched Spike’s focus trailed from yours and down your chest. You could’ve swore his pupils dilated at the sight of your covered tits. Adorable, you thought. So infatuated with you, that even a glance at your fully clothed body, could arouse him easily. This day had been a bit of a bummer for him…

“I can make you forget how bad of a day it's been.” You declared softly, causing Spike to snap out of his trance.

“Hmm. Show me.”

You pushed back off of him, delicately lifting the bottom of your sweatshirt up. Pulling the material to your collarbone, you allowed Spike to enjoy a full picture of what his heart desired. You heard an elongated sigh come from him, a familiar hardness pressed underneath you.

“You’re looking at me like you've never seen these before.” You giggled.

“Its like seeing them for the first time.” He spoke lowly, shifting in his seat. “I really can’t get over how beautiful you are.”

“Well don’t sit there and admire the view.” You whispered. “Touch me.”

Working hands eagerly pushed the straps of your bra to the side, releasing your tits from its hold. Sloppy kisses were planted all over your breasts, licking and biting so softly. You let out a wistful moan, massaging the back of Spike’s head as he unleashed his need for you. His tongue encircled your hardened nipples, flicking all around before taking you in between his lips.

You couldn’t help yourself from grinding on his lap, the outline of his cock shifting aid forth in between your legs. He leaned his head on the back of his seat, letting out a deep groan. His hands went from your tits down to your hip, guiding you.

“I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” You held onto his shoulders, letting Spike take the lead.

“I-i can’t either, fuck.” He hissed, bucking his hips up suddenly. “You know how to bring the worst out of me.”

All you could do was laugh, cut off by another wanting thrust from Spike. “You’re welcome.”

This could hold both of you off until tonight, then maybe Spike could unleash his stress on you. Your hips slowed to a rocking roll, building up a nice rhythm. It was lazy, comforting. Hands roamed your back, scratching and holding onto you. You could feel a deep, intense throbbing in between your legs, echoing into your stomach and up into your mouth. There was this familiar desperation again.

You were addicted to him.

“Can I have you now, please?” Spike pleaded, moaning as his lips grazed your tits again. “Y-you just look so good- and, and god, the way you taste.”

You take it back, you were addicted to each other.

“But the ship-“

“To hell with this piece of junk. I’ll destroy it if it means I can have you.”

This man always knew how to slide his way into your heart. No matter how many times sweet nothings had been whispered between you both, he always managed to make you a blubbering mess. You were still in shock on how one person can love you so much. You hesitated. With so much fire and passion, you melted into his lips, showing your adoration for him.

Tongue running over your lips, the walls of your mouth. He could never get tired of the taste of you. His lungs were begging to pull him back for air, but he didn't want to. If need be, he wanted to drown in you. Alas, you were the first to break, lips glossed over with his saliva.

“Yes, yes. I’m all yours, use me.” You keened in between pants. Quick fingers unlatched the button of his pants, pushing them past his hips and down his legs. Hovering over, you pulled your shorts down. Trying to keep your balance as you wobbled trying to take your underwear off, you heard a deep throated chuckle come from Spike.

“That’s cute. Here, let me help you.” He said, gathering the garment through each leg and off to the side.

Finally off, Spike squeezed your ass, pinching some skin in between his fingers. You whimpered, head whipping back to watch him grope you. Two digits grabbed your chin and twisted you to face him, his vision bearing into yours. You had looked into them so many times and were still enticed by the color difference between them. “Stop that.”

You nodded, obeying. Your heart thudded as it anticipated contact. His expression was so kind, a spider leading its food into the trap. And you fell for it everytime. Without warning, his hand spanked one cheek, causing you to cry out.

“Was that so bad?”

You shook your head, biting down on your bottom lip. “N-no.”

“Oh? Let me try again.”

Another smack on your other cheek, the aftermath burning your skin. He rubbed the sensitive skin, building a routine of spanking you and giving you plenty of care. Your cheeks on your face and ass were red from Spike’s play. He took immediate notice of your flushed and hazy profile, lips curling back in a cheeky grin. His precious girl, blushy and ready for another pounding.

“Ah, shit.” He breathed, tucking a stray hair away from your face. Your lips met once more for a sealed kiss, a gift for one another for being so compliant. “So gorgeous.”

“Hold onto me, baby.” He whispered in your ear, bringing you closer to his chest. Instinctively you wrapped your arms around his neck, whimpering softly as you felt his digits rub up your slit and into you. They slid back out, rubbing semi-circles on your clit. Wow, that is what you were missing. One push of some of your buttons, and you were good to go. “Feels like you’re ready for me.”

Your eyes darted down to Spike slathering his cock with your wetness. You don’t know how Spike managed to keep it up for this long. Maybe that's where the frustration went. There was plenty of it. Your head was practically empty except the thoughts of how many times you managed to take all of Spike’s perfect, huge-

“(Y/N), I want you to look at me.” He said. “I want to see those pretty eyes when I go into you.”

Snapping out of it, you nodded vigorously, giving a peck on his cheek. “O-okay.”

“Look at me, look at me.” He told you as he positioned himself at your entrance.

Trust. Complete trust in Spike. He could have you off the edge of a cliff, holding your hand as you dangled on the side. Confident that he could pull you back. That is what you saw. There were hints of it, traces streaming through like channels on TV. But this was a still painting, and it wasn't going anywhere. Trust is what had you hypnotized to Spike.

A hand holding you in place, he slowly sunk you onto his member, exhaling. Your eyes soften, never leaving his face. “There you go, keep your eyes on me.” He chokes out, pushing himself further into you.

Moaning softly, the only words that fell from your lips was his name. Interlocking his hands behind your back, shoving his cock back up. The force of his hips was quick, with exact precision as it grazed your g-spot. Your pleasure simmered, turning down the heat everytime he slid back out of you. You would rather have this than to cum too fast and not enjoy it.

You savored the moment. Spike inside you, using your pussy to voice out his frustration. Although in a small space, there was so much more he wanted to give you. For now he would hold you close to him, pump himself into you until his girl was turned into a crying, fucked out mess with what he could work with.

You met his hips as Spike voiced out from underneath you. There wasn’t a lot of room for you to move, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t show your pleasure in different ways.

“T-this is what you needed?” You moaned softly, kissing Spike’s agaped mouth.

“Always.” His arm cradled the small of your back as he other hand came up to hold your face. His thumb extended under your chin, rubbing your chin delicately. It brushed against your lower lip before slipping in. Sucking and licking, you heard amused cursings come for Spike.

To think that you were under his control was his misunderstanding. Trust was shared and so was a relationship. It went both ways, receiving and giving. Some teasing of your own was in order.

“I-is that all you got?” You took his hand, placing it on your tit. He squeezed and massaged, leaning down to place a kiss on your chest. “When I tell you to take it out on me, take all of it out on me.”

Spike slowed his tempo, head lolled to the side as you began nudging him. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

“Oh, b-but I do.” You pushed, wiping off the sweat on Spike’s forehead. “You wanted to show me so bad, so do it.”

The calm before the storm, only you didn’t realize it. Under his spell, you completely forgot how quickly Spike could switch up, just like earlier. How unprepared you were.

The pause in the moment was just a break to gear up. So entranced with your power trip that you didn’t notice that the tip of his cock slipped out.

All breath shot out of your lungs as Spike sheathed all of himself into you. Hand entangled in your hair, he took his other and pressed you into him, locked. No more than just a toy, he pounded his cock in your drenched pussy. You were so glad that the lid to the ship was shut. There was no way you could contain your vocal cords from the way he was hitting it.

Brutal, hard, degrading.

“W-want me to show you s-so bad- huh? This is what you g-get.” Spike repeated, hissing and groaning in your ear. The inside of your thighs were drenched. You could feel yourself leaking onto his cock every time he came back up, coating himself even more in you. The sounds were absolutely filthy. Spike had achieved it, your whimpers and pleads music to his ears.

It was all too much. Lasting long with a pounding like this was not an option. The walls of your pussy clenched around Spike, who moaned out loud. “Shit, a-already?”

Nodding, all you can babble was a broken “keep going.” Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, muscles tightening as you felt the peak of your orgasm coming. It all came crashing down without warning, thighs shaking and wailing helplessly. The fire never burned out as Spike kept thrusting into you.

No words left you for thanks, you attacked Spike’s neck, biting and kissing. He responded with a deep growl, grip tightening on you. He huffed as a wave of pleasure rolled through his cock. God he wanted to hold on so badly, but the way you were felt, your beautiful response, was all he could focus on. He could never tire of you.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as Spike kept slamming into you. You felt like suffocating with each thrust, but fuck it felt so good. Imagining how difficult it was going to be to walk out of the hangar and try to look normal was not going to be an easy task. But the confidence this man had shown you will give you the power to not give a fuck.

“C-can’t get enough of you-and, and a-almost on my mind..” Spike strained, panting. “W-why do you do this to me?”

Your mouth twisted in a smile, full of bliss and satisfaction. Your lips fit to his, tongue slipping along Spike’s. Moaning, you bounced on his cock intensively. Your limbs were so sore, but you were going to do anything just to be filled up with the result of your teasing. It was a victory for both parties.

Tightening the walls of your pussy, you heard a raspy chuckle from Spike. “O-oh, baby don’t do that. I won’t l-last long at all.”

Good for you, your hearing wasn’t working. You stared him in the eyes, clenching and relaxing. He unraveled in front of you. You swear you could have heard him whimpering, face concentrated to stop himself from cumming too soon.

“P-please baby, I can’t-“

“Cum in me.” You gasped, euphoria swept throughout your pussy. Your heartbeat was felt everywhere on you, threatening to burst out of your chest. Blazing rays of heat echo in you and Spike. “Cum in me.”

You croaked out a choked howl as your orgasm washed over you, much more powerful than the last one. Spurts of hot cum shot inside you, Spike’s movements coming to a stuttering stop. Just one, two more pumps and he falls back onto his seat. His cock twitched, grateful to have every single drop spilled out. You were happy to catch it. You dropped your head on his shoulder, collecting your thoughts back to your consciousness.

His chin rests on your shoulder, fingertips rubbing up and down your spine. Placing soft kisses on your sweaty skin, he sighed happily. You could hear the exhaustion in his breathing. Whether it was from your alone time or from working on the Swordfish, you didn’t know. You were just relieved that you were still alive and in one piece in the ship after the intense actions of fiery passion.

“I uhh- I need to call that professional.”

[pandawithawand]

Grian, The Single Dragon Dad Au

Inspired by this art

It was 4:23 am when Grian was woken up by loud wailing. He tumbled out of bed, very confused; since when where was there a baby in Boatem?

 He squinted into the darkness of the Midnight Alley, straining for the source of the sound. Was it coming from outside? Yes, it was coming from outside.

Grian got up unsteadily, and made his way to the opening of his base. Once he’d reached entrance, he stepped on something. It crunched very suddenly under his boots, causing him to jump. he bent down to see what it was, and picked up a shard of black eggshell. It was thicker then a birds egg and had strange purple flecks in it. It has the same texture as sandpaper and was slightly warm.

It was part of the dragon egg.

Grian paled. The egg had hatched. That had to be the only reason part of it was outside his base. That meant a baby dragon was somewhere loose in Boatem. And since Grian had been the one to kill it’s mother, Grian was the one responsible for it.

                                                          ~*~

After following the trail of eggshell to the corner between his and Pearl’s base, Grian found the hatchling, cowering and wailing like a kicked puppy. However, the moment it saw Grian, it stopped. And just stared at him.

 Large purple eyes staring into brown eyes. 

Dragon slayer and dragon suspended in time for just a second.

And then the dragon giggled. A small babyish giggle. It blinked, giggled and bounded over to Grian, bumping into his knees, unbalancing him. He fell onto his bottom and the dragon crawled into his lap. It smiled up at Grian and that’s when he knew...

He’d just become a single dad.

                                                         ~*~

At 8:30 on the same day, Scar landed in the Midnight Alley and loudly proclaimed his arrival to the world,

“Ooh~ Grian! It is I! Your favourite builder,” He strode deeper into the base and started looking around, “I’m here to build your base for you. Hello? Grian? Where are yo- WOAH!!”

Something ran into Scar’s legs, knocking him to the floor. He looked on in shock as a small, black dragon ran towards the marble bank at the end of the alley.

“What on earth...” Scar slowly got back his feet, picking up his crutch, which had been flung from his hands. He shuffled a bit closer, causing the dragon to look up, “Hello little one! What are you doing here?”

The hatchling toddled over to Scar, sniffed his outstretched hand and chirped.

“Oh my goodness, you are the cutest thing I've seen. Why are you in Grian’s base?” Scar scratched under the creatures chin, “Are you lost?”

“Tegg? Tegg, where’ve you gone?” A voice cut through the air, causing the dragon to look up. It bounded away from Scar and towards the entrance where a tired, slightly dishevelled Grian had just landed.

“Oh, there you are Tegg!” The short man bent down and scooped the dragon up, “You shouldn’t run of like that! You’ll get lost.” 

“Um, Grian?” 

“ARGH!” Grian screamed, fell over, got jumped by the dragon and lay down to except his fate as a dragon bed, “Scar you scared me. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

“Yeah, sorry about that Grian, why is there a dragon in Boatem?”

“Ah yeah, about that,” The avian shoved the hatchling of his chest and sat up, “The Tegg hatched.”

“The Tegg hatched...” Scar echoed,

“Yes, the Tegg hatched.”

“How.”

“I have no idea.”

A silence filled the Midnight Alley. Grian spoke first, “You know, that sounded a lot better in my head. It wasn’t very helpful, was it.” The salesman laughed at that, and agreed with an exaggerated nod.

“So... What do you do now?” Scar looked down at his friend, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Well, care for it I suppose.”

“Oh, this will be fun to watch!”

                                                          ~*~

Oh boy, this took me so long to write. I was halfway through, and my motivation just went poof. So this has just been sitting in an open tab for like, 6 weeks. Anyway, I love this Au, it’s so cute, and I hope you enjoy!

                                                          ~*~

[goldenraeofsun]

Enhanced Extraction Techniques

Also available at AO3

“Cas?”

Cas whirls around. If he was standing on a normal floor, his shoes would have squeaked with the abrupt turn. In the Empty, though, his feet don’t make a sound. “Dean?” he calls back, his heart soaring in his chest.

“Cas? Where are you, man?”

Cas spins in another circle, his eyes straining against the darkness. The oppressive blankness of nothing presses against his eyeballs like an almost tangible film. He tries again, “Dean?”

“Cas?”

“Dean!” Cas takes off in the direction of Dean’s voice.

“Are you there?”

 Cas walks faster, anticipation quickening his heels. “I’m coming!”

“I can’t find you!”

“I’m here!” Cas calls back desperately.

“I’m running out of time here, buddy! Spell’s not gonna last forever. Where the hell are you?”

Panicked, Cas breaks out into a run. “I’m coming, Dean!”

“Are you?”

Cas stops dead. If he was back on Earth, he would have fallen flat on his face with the momentum. He turns to his right, where Dean’s voice just came.

“Cas? You there?”

Dean’s voice definitely came from his left that time.

“I need you.”

Cas swallows. Dean’s voice is coming from directly in front of him now. Icy dread creeps up his spine, but he feels hot all over.

“You make it too easy, Castiel.”

Dean never calls him by his full name, not in more than a decade. He is not talking with Dean.

“Nobody is coming for you.”

Cas doesn’t respond. Shamed beyond reason, he just stands there because there is nothing else to do. He can’t hide from the Empty. The Empty is everywhere.

Black ooze, blacker than the surrounding darkness, bubbles up from the floor. The Empty resolves into Cas’s own face, to his surprise. He’d been expecting Dean.

It shrugs, a knowing smirk playing on its lips. “What can I say? If you’re determined to keep me awake, I might as well amuse myself.”

“Your sense of humor leaves much to be desired,” Cas says as tonelessly as he can manage.

The Empty crosses its arms over its chest. “My options are limited, aren’t they?” it says snidely. “I can’t put you to sleep, so I can’t sleep. I might as well make this experience as hellish for you as it is for me.”

Cas frowns. “You could always negate our deal. Send me back to Earth.”

The Empty laughs. “That’s not how it works. That was a one-way trip.”

Cas grinds his teeth. “Then it seems like we’re at an impasse.”

“An impasse requires two forces of equal power,” the Empty tuts. “And you, my little gnat, have no power in this equation. You are my plaything. What was it that Gabriel said? A thousand channels and nothing’s on. Except you.”

Before Cas can respond, the Empty disappears, dissolving into a tarry splatter and absorbing into whatever passes as the floor in this place. 

 * * *

Cas wanders. He used to sleep while he was bored, but the Empty truly reigns supreme in his dreams. Cas killed Naomi’s Dean facsimile a thousand times, a million times. He watched Dean rake leaves, Crowley whispering poisoned promises into his ear. He walked away as Dean hurts and rages silently behind him in the Bunker.

So Cas stays awake. He’s an angel. It isn’t hard.

Dean’s voice occasionally calls for him.

Cas ignores it.

He wanders for what seems like miles, like hundreds of miles. Nothing ever changes in the Empty. With every step forward, he meets the same bleak blackness. The closest comparison in his long memory is the fraction of a second before the Big Bang - there was emptiness then too, but it was filled with a pregnant sense of promise. In the Empty - nothing.

Until.

Dean is running towards him.

Cas blinks a few times to make sure, even though his vision is perfect.

“Cas,” Dean breaks the silence first, “I found you.”

“Dean,” Cas breathes - any louder, and Dean will hear the trembling. “You’re here.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean says with a wink. “Now, come on. We’re getting out of here.” He takes off in the direction he came from, glancing behind him to check on Cas.

“We are?” Cas asks, following.

Dean throws him a disbelieving look. “Of course, dude. Sam and Jack are prepping the spell to get us back to the Bunker. We got Chuck by the short and curlies, but we’re one power player short. So we gotta get a move on.”

“So you need me?” Cas asks.

“Your mojo is the ticket,” Dean says with a little grin. “Chuck wiped all the angels off the Earth except Michael. And that dick isn’t answering our prayers, so you’re our next best bet.”

The joy at seeing Dean wavers. “I am?” he asks haltingly.

Dean shrugs. “We gotta work with what we have. And we just remembered you were here, out of Chuck’s reach. Our own spare angel!”

Cas barely holds back his flinch. Hunching in on himself, he mutters, “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean assures him, misreading his reaction completely. “We have a plan.”

Cas sighs. “Of course you do. What is it?”

“Sam found a spell,” Dean says. “It’ll rip Chuck apart, and, since Amara’s inside him - which, gross - it’ll maintain the balance when the spell takes her apart too.” 

Dean stops walking.

Cas looks around, but nothing sets aside this patch of emptiness from any other. No illuminated rift, no magic symbols, no X marking the spot - nothing.

“The catch is,” Dean says as he turns to Cas, his face regretful, “the spell needs an angel’s grace.”

In a blink of an eye, an angel blade drops into Dean’s palm.

Cas blinks. No beings but angels can manifest that particular weapon.

Dean raises the blade, fingers flexing on the handle. “You know,” he says conversationally, “Now that I think about it, we don’t actually need the angel himself - just the battery.”

Cas stands his ground, his eyes darting over Dean’s face, taking in every nuance and tell.

“I told you once,” Cas says warily, a horrible foreboding coming over him, “I’m always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.”

“Happy to hear that, Cas,” Dean says, his face impassive, “because you’re gonna bleed a lot, not gonna lie.” He shoves the blade in Cas’s chest, right above his heart.

Cas staggers back from the blow, pain and shock radiating out from the bloodless wound.

Dean raises his eyebrows, his mouth curling into a mocking smile as Cas meets his smug face. “What, were you expecting to go poof? We’re in the Empty,” he throws its hands wide, “everyone’s in stasis here, including you.”

Cas yanks the blade out of his chest, but it - and Dean - turns into black goo before he can stab anything with it.

 * * *

The Empty doesn’t mimic Dean next. Instead it takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s. Every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven.

And there’s no escape. Cas can do his best not to listen, but if he retreats too far into himself, it almost counts as sleeping. With the Empty’s nudging, his thoughts will veer into his worst regrets, sooner or later. 

The Empty is in the middle of lecturing him in the form of Balthazar, when it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

“Come on,” he says roughly. He strides forward to grab Cas’s hand and tug him in the other direction. “That bomb doesn’t last forever.”

“Dean?”

“Who else?” Dean yanks him sharply to the left. “This place didn’t turn your brains to scrambled eggs, did it?”

“I don’t think so,” Cas says shakily. “Dean are you really...”

“What?”

Cas can’t help looking down at their clasped hands. A fleeting thing, barely more than a glance. Still, Dean drops Cas’s hand like it burned him. “You good to run?” he asks shortly.

Cas barely nods before Dean takes off. They hurtle through the Empty, their rapid footsteps impossibly silent. Dean’s breath comes in sharp pants, and Cas’s useless wings ache, not for the first time, to fly them to their destination.

“Dean,” Cas starts, and Dean slows. “Where are we going?”

“Where I left my stuff,” Dean says shortly. “The spell to get us out of here needs a shit-ton of crap, and I couldn’t haul it all over this goddamn place while I was trying to find you.”

“How did you know your way back?”

The corners of Dean’s mouth lift in a faint smile. He points to the floor. “M&Ms.”

Cas squints at the ground, and, sure enough, they are following a trail of tiny candies. “Ingenious,” he murmurs.

“Hey, it worked with a Wendigo,” Dean says, shrugging. He directs them in a few more twists and turns before Cas sees Dean's duffle bag in the distance, topped with a bright yellow bag of M&Ms.

As they get closer, Dean pulls out an angel blade from inside his jacket.

Cas balks. 

Dean shoots him a puzzled look as he hands it to him. “It won’t kill anything here, obviously,” he says, unzipping his bag. He pulls out a copper bowl and bundles of herbs, “But having a weapon’s never a bad idea in unknown dimensions.”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas surveils their inky surroundings, already on high alert for any trespassers.

“Watch my back, okay?” Dean glances over his shoulder. Various ingredients get dropped into the bowl with outsized clangs and dribbles that seem to echo in the void around them.

Cas stays vigilant.

“This was easier than I thought it would be,” Dean mutters as the bowl’s contents start to smoke.

“Don’t jinx it,” Cas mutters out of the side of his mouth.

Dean chuckles under his breath. “I didn’t think angels believed in jinxes.”

It’s not like Cas has been especially angelic these past few years. He says shortly, “I’ve found you can never be too careful.”

Dean hums his agreement. “Need your blood for this part,” he says, shuffling over to make room. “Wait,” Dean says before Cas can press the blade againt his skin.

“Yes?”

“This is the last step,” Dean says seriously. “Once your blood goes in, it’s liftoff. So I wanted to get a couple things straight before we’re back in the Bunker.”

Cas doesn’t need to breathe, but if he did, his breath would have hitched in his chest at the closed-off look on Dean’s face. “Of course.” 

“What you said - what you told me,” Dean starts, his voice hard, “before you got sucked to this hellscape.” He drops his gaze to the bowl cradled in his hands, “That’s not me.”

Cas presses his lips together, struggling to keep his face impassive. Once he regains control of himself he says, “I did not expect you to reciprocate when I told you about my feelings for you.”

Dean actively recoils at the mention of feelings. He gives the bowl a little toss, and a few of the contents spill onto the floor. “Just, forget it,” he says brusquely, gathering everything up again.

“Dean-”

He turns to Cas, his eyes blazing. “But - you know what? I can’t forget it.”

Cas opens his mouth, but Dean is not done.

“How could you offload all that shit on me right before you fucked off to parts unknown?” he demands, voice rising in anger and volume. “Of all the goddamn things you could have said to me - that takes the fucking cake. You were my best friend -” he breaks off, shaking his head. “Worst moment of my goddamn life.”

Cas takes a step back, a sickly horror trickling down his spine. “I didn’t think-”

But Dean’s not listening. “I had serious doubts about coming here at all,” he continues, and the last Dean had stabbed him in the chest - how is this so much worse? “But Sam gave me those goddamn puppy dog eyes, and don’t even get me started on Jack-”

“I understand,” Cas interrupts stiffly. He inhales a deep breath he doesn’t need and continues, “Once we return to the Bunker, I’ll stay out of your way.”

“Probably for the best,” Dean mutters.

Cas cuts his forearm, watching with perverse fascination as the blood wells up and drips into the bowl waiting below.

There’s a violent burst of light and sound.

In the aftermath, Cas can only make out Dean’s mocking laughter. Before Cas can say a word, it turns into Meg’s delighted giggles. And then Gabriel’s howls of mirth.

 * * *

Cas sleeps after getting deceived for the third time. Anything is better than seeing the smug face of the Empty, whether it’s wearing Dean’s face, Gadreel’s, or Ruby’s. 

He breaks the wall in Sam’s head.

He lets Lucifer possess him in a futile plan.

He beats Dean to a bloody mess for the Angel Tablet.

Occasionally, the Empty grants him release, and Cas gets to deliver a bad joke to Uriel in Mesopotamia or Dean calls him a baby in a trenchcoat in a diner.

Time passes. Cas has no idea how long. There’s no sun - no moon - no cycling of the heavens. Only emptiness.

He gets shaken awake.

Cas blinks up at a pair of very familiar green eyes. “Dean,” he says, more or less resigned.

“Jesus,” Dean says as he sits back on his heels, “Way to make a guy feel welcome. I’m here to save your sorry ass, in case you were wondering. A full week of tearing my hair out over how to get you outta here, and this is the thanks I get.”

Cas sits up. “My apologies,” he says tentatively as he studies Dean’s face. There’s no sign it isn’t really Dean.

Then again, none of the others showed signs either.

Cas gets to his feet, asking, “Are you alone?”

Dean glances around them warily. “Yeah, Sam and Jack are keeping the portal open in the Bunker. They wanted to come,” he says, his eyes raking over Cas’s face, drinking him in. “They’ll be over the fucking moon to see you again.”

Cas swallows. “And you?”

“I -” A dull flush comes over Dean’s cheeks. He looks away.

Cas’s face shutters. “Right,” he says as he stands in front of Dean. “Now what?”

“Hey,” Dean says, reaching out to grasp his left shoulder, a mirror of the mark Cas left on him so long ago and so recently. “I missed you too. You have to know that.”

Worst moment of my life.

Cas looks away, Dean’s own raised voice echoing in his head.

“Hey,” Dean says again, gentler this time. His green eyes bore into Cas’s face. “What’s going on in that celestial brain of yours?”

The words catch in Cas’s throat, a lump of embarrassment and fear keeping them there. Embarrassment that the Empty deceived him. Fear that the Empty was right.

“Look, I know we didn’t leave things on great terms,” Dean says awkwardly, “and maybe this isn’t the best place to talk about it, but I’m so fucking happy to see you, man.” He chuckles ruefully. “’S making me lose my goddamn mind.”

Even if it’s only a facsimile of Dean - and there’s no way to tell for certain - seeing his face not contorted in anger or mockery is like a balm on Cas’s soul. If he had one, that was.

“About what you said before you got taken-” Dean starts.

Cas’s heart sinks.

“No,” Dean says, his voice low and gentle, “listen to me. I get that happiness for you might just be in the being, but for me-”

“It’s fine, Dean,” Cas interrupts. “I meant that, truly. You don’t have to-”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean says, smiling slightly, “You’re not making this easy are you?”

Cas bites his tongue to keep from contradicting Dean again.

“As I was saying,” Dean continues pointedly, his green eyes shining, “For me, happiness isn’t in the being - whatever the hell that means. It’s in the goddamn having.”

Cas bites his tongue harder, the pain hardly registering against the burst of hope fluttering wildly in his chest. “Dean,” he forces out, “You can’t mean…”

“Cas,” Dean starts, and Cas’s heart breaks - or mends. He can’t tell. He has no idea who he is talking to, and it’s, to borrow a phrase from the real Dean, an epic mindfuck.  

“Cas,” the Dean standing in front of him repeats, and Cas’s gaze automatically draws back to his face, “Good things do happen.”

Cas chuckles wetly. He has no choice but to say, “Not in my experience.”

Dean takes a step closer, far into the personal space he’d shown Cas so many years ago. Brows drawing together, he raises a hand to cup Cas’s face. “Someone told me a while ago that having faith was important. Seems you’re a little short there, buddy.”

Cas tries to duck his head, but Dean won’t let him. Eventually, he admits, “My faith has been tested recently.”

“But you didn’t give up, right?” Dean asks, leaning in close enough that Cas can feel the warmth of his breath in the air between them.

Cas shakes his head minutely. “No,” he murmurs, “not entirely.”

“Good,” Dean says, pausing just shy of Cas’s mouth. Waiting.

Cas steels himself and closes distance.

Just before their lips touch, Dean implodes in a burst of inky ooze.

 * * *

Cas breaks several knuckles on the floor of the Empty. There are no walls to punch, no blade to send heads rolling. Cas works with what he has.

The real Dean would probably approve.

Dean shows up again before too long. This Dean goes so far as to tell Cas he loves him.

Cas turns his back on Dean’s heartbroken face. He refuses to engage.

He wanders instead.

* * * 

Cas hears the footsteps before he sees his next Dean.

“Cas!” he pants, “Thank fuck. I thought I was never going to find you.”

Cas merely sighs.

Dean makes a face. “Way to roll out the welcome wagon,” he says, clearly offended. “I would’ve thought you were sick of this place by now.”

Cas purses his lips. “I am.”

“Shocker,” Dean says with a little smile. “Look, we don’t have a lot of time, so you gotta follow me.”

Cas doesn’t budge. He’d rather roam this place for eternity than suffer at the hands of another Dean facsimile. And he had thought he saw enough of them under Naomi’s tutelage. He’d been so naive.

Dean stares at him like Cas just stripped naked and danced the macarena. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not real,” Cas says bluntly.

Dean gapes. “Of course I’m real! Chuck’s de-powered, and Jack… well, it’s a long story. Bottom line: nobody’s pulling our strings but us.”

Cas lets out a derisive laugh.

Dean’s eyebrows rise, but he barrels on, “So it’s time to get a move on. Up and at ‘em, sunshine.” He jerks his head off to the right. 

Cas stays where he is. “No.”

“What the hell?” Dean has the gall to tug on Cas’s sleeve like he’s a wayward toddler. “Come on. You’re not making any sense.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Cas retorts. It’s not his best rejoinder, but he’s been very stressed lately.

Whatever Dean was about to say dies on his tongue as he stares at Cas in confusion. “What’s wrong with you?” He shakes his head before Cas can respond, saying, “Doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out later. But now, you’ve gotta come with me.”

Cas levels him a flat glare. This one is more stubborn than the last, more like the real Dean. “Why should I?”

“Because you don’t deserve to be stuck here?” Dean says, gesturing to the void around them. “You saved the world, Cas.” He swallows. “You saved me. Getting you out is the least we can do.”

“Because you need me to take on Chuck,” Cas says.

“No?” Dean says, his eyes narrowing. “I already told you, Chuck’s off the playing board.”

“Because you feel guilty about leaving me here.”

“No - wait, I do, but,” Dean breaks off, irritated, “you know what I mean.”

Cas doesn’t, so he continues in the same vein as before, “Because you love me.”

Dean hesitates. “I’m working on it.”

Cas snorts. At least the last Dean had the balls to say it. Many times. While crying.

“What?” Dean throws up his hands. “You just sprung it on me, dude! I didn’t even know angels could feel things like that, and it took me by surprise, okay? I’m only human, and sometimes we need time to get used to ideas. Like when we found out Snooki was a demon. Yeah, the signs were there, and it makes sense, but still - you sometimes need it spelled out for you.”

Cas pauses. None of the other Deans had referenced pop culture. “How long ago was this for you?”

“Since we summoned Snooki?” 

At Cas’s icy look of disdain, Dean hedges, “A month? Give or take.” He glares. “First we had to deal with Chuck, and it took a while to find a spell to get here. Remember, we didn’t even know this was a place before you died the last time. The Men of Letters weren’t a shit ton of help, for once.”

Cas crosses his arms over his chest.

“Just… hear me out,” Dean says. “There’s a portal to get us home. Sam and Jack can’t stall the Empty forever.”

That was new. “Jack and Sam aren’t in the Bunker?”

“No,” Dean says as he takes off in the opposite direction, all but forcing Cas to follow to find out more. “They’re up in Heaven.”

“Why?”

“Because the Empty can’t get to Earth without a summoning spell, which, as far as we can tell, doesn’t exist?” Dean says, checking over his shoulder to make sure Cas is still within earshot. “But you made that fucking stupid deal in Heaven, so we knew it could at least travel there. Jack zapped Sam to the Pearly Gates, and they’re hopefully making a distraction while I get you out.”

Still not entirely convinced, Cas asks begrudgingly, “And where are we going?”

“A portal,” Dean says confidently. “This place is a little like Purgatory, apparently. If it senses a human here, it’ll create a portal to spit them out again.” He flashes a grin over his shoulder. “So here I am, 100% genuine human to bail your ass out.”

“Thank you?”

“Don’t mention it,” Dean says with a wink.

Cas scowls. The first Dean had winked at him too.

“Jesus, tough crowd,” Dean mutters as they head further into the Empty.

Cas scans the ground, but there are no small candies lining the way. “How do you know where to go?”

“Turns out, Sam could find a spell for that,” Dean says as he holds up his left hand - clutching his amulet. The Empty must have really hunted around in his memories for that one, even more so than the Wendigo case. He hasn’t seen the real amulet in nearly five years. “It heats up when I’m on the right track towards the exit.”

“So no M&Ms?”

Dean turns to him. “I told you about that?”

Cas stares straight ahead, willing his face to fall into an expressionless mask. The real Dean had told him about the Wendigo over dinner with Sam and Mary while she was still alive, or the Empty wouldn’t be able to use it as inspiration now.

Dean shakes his head, smiling. “Man, I haven’t thought about that case in forever.” He glances at Cas, his face sobering. “You really don’t believe this is real?”

“No.”

He can’t. Not again.

Dean sighs as he steers them slightly to the right. “Come on, I’m almost getting third degree burns from this thing. We must be close.”

Sure enough, a blue swirling portal comes into view, a pinprick of light in the distance at first, elongating into an exact replica of the Purgatory exit as they approach. 

“Finally,” Dean mutters, his face impassive. He  turns to Cas. “Just… don’t stay behind,” he grimaces, “again.”

This version has been the most true to Dean - less callous than the first, more caring than the second, more guarded than the third. It will hurt the most when this one falls apart. Maybe it would be better if Cas heads it off at the pass instead of letting the whole painstaking ruse play out all the way through.

If the Empty could get it over with, Cas will go back to sleep. Anything is better than this torture.

Cas takes a step back, away from the portal. “This is pointless-”

“Jesus Christ, Cas!” Dean throws his hands in the air. “I don’t get it at all. You don’t think you deserve to be saved?”

Cas gapes at him.

Dean continues heatedly, “If an ex-demon with anger management problems and rap sheet a mile long deserved to be saved, I think a legit angel should get the same.”

Cas shakes his head. “I’m hardly a prime example of an angel anymore.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Have I ever cared about that?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Glad we can agree on something,” Dean cuts him off. “Now, are you going to go through the portal or am I gonna have to drag you? I’ll do it,” he threatens. “Don’t test me.”

Cas wavers. Everything in him says to follow Dean. But this isn’t the real Dean - this is the Empty waiting for the glorious moment when it can yank the illusion away, leaving Cas a little more broken than before.

Dean’s eyes narrow. “Fuck you,” he spits, “You can’t trust me just a little-”

“Trust?” Cas echoes as he strides forward to grab the lapels of Dean’s jacket, his voice rising in a mixture of outrage, desperation, and heartache, “You want me to trust you? After you’ve lied to me, deceived me - after you stabbed me, after you told me I put you through the worst moment of your life the last time you saw me, after you made me think you returned my feelings only to - only to-”

Dean shakes his head slowly. “But I didn’t do any of that.”

“You did,” Cas says fervently, shaking Dean a little - or maybe that’s his trembling hands. “You did - you’ve been putting me through hell since I got here, and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you.”

Dean’s expression hardens. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do,” Cas swears. “I’m done pretending.”

Dean his eyes flicking down to Cas’s mouth. “What do you know,” he breathes, “so am I.”

Cas freezes, waiting for Dean to dissolve into a puddle of goo in his hands.

Dean kisses him instead.

At the first touch of Dean’s lips to his, Cas jerks back in surprise and horror.

He falls straight into the portal. 

The Empty vanishes in a blur of too-bright light.

 * * *

Cas comes to in the middle of a field. The sun shines overhead. Noon, Cas registers distantly as he looks around. Dean’s sprawled on the prairie grasses next to him, already waking up judging by the groaning noises.

“Dean?”

Dean opens his eyes, glances at the sky, and closes them again. “Oh great, we made it.”

Cas tentatively picks his way closer to Dean’s side. He stands over him for a moment, shuffling to the side so he doesn’t block the sunlight falling on Dean’s face. “We’re on Earth.”

“Well, it’s sure as shit not Mars,” Dean grumbles, eyes still closed. “Are you watching me right now? I feel like you’re watching me right now.”

Cas stares around the field. “Not anymore,” he says, and a genuine breeze blows against his face. What a marvel.

“‘S okay,” Dean says as he wiggles a little on the grass, getting more comfortable, “’M used to it.”

Cas turns to him. “It’s really you.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean cracks his eyes open, one corner of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile. “You believe me now?”

“This could be the most elaborate ruse yet.”

Dean lifts his head up. “Seriously? You dick, I did not haul ass all the way-”

“I don’t really believe that, however,” Cas says before Dean can work himself up too much.

“Good.” He meaningfully thumps the grass next to him. “Sit. You’re giving me serious Law & Order vibes.”

Cas’s brow furrows. “I don’t get that reference. I know about Law & Order-”

“And how does every episode of Law & Order start?” Dean interrupts, “With someone standing over a dead body in a field.”

Cas takes a seat. “Not always a field. Most episodes show corpses in urban areas, or, once, a yacht.”

“Pretty sure it was more than once. I hate procedural cop shows.”

“They are very formulaic,” Cas admits, stretching out his legs, “and lack the drama of soap operas.”

“I’m just saying, if a long lost sibling doesn’t pop out of the woodwork or if the main character isn’t killed off at least six times, is it really worth watching?”

Cas levels him a flat look. “Dean, all those things have happened to you.”

Dean snorts. “At least none of us got amnesia.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Speak for yourself.”

Dean turns his head to stare at him, a wide grin spreading across his face as he laughs. “Oh shit, you're right. How the hell did I forget?”

“Because of supreme irony, most likely.”

It takes Dean a moment to get it, but when he does, he laughs even louder.

Cas doesn’t have anything to add, so he lets the conversation peter off into silence, listening to Dean’s even breathing and the grass rustling in the gentle wind.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Dean says in an undertone.

Cas turns to him. Dean’s eyes are closed again, but everything else about him radiates a quiet tension Cas might’ve missed anywhere else. But here, in this field, nothing prevents Cas from honing on Dean’s whole being with everything he has. “What do you mean?” he asks carefully.

“I dunno,” Dean says, his face scrunching up, “I thought it would be more awkward. But… it doesn’t feel any different.”

Cas blinks. “Why should it?” he asks, and though he’s not definitively sure what Dean means by ‘it’, he has a very strong suspicion.

Dean shoots him a pointed look. “Because you don’t tell someone you love them and expect everything to be OK after.”

Cas lays down next to Dean. Staring up at the wispy clouds overhead, he says, “If it changes anything, I didn’t expect to be around for the after part.” Dean’s head turns to look at him, but Cas can’t bring himself to see whatever expression is on his face. “If you’d like for us to go our separate ways after this, I understand.”

“You stupid bastard,” Dean mutters vehemently, “for the last goddamn time, I did not piss off the immortal Blob just to tell you to go fuck yourself in person.”

Cas inhales a slow breath, breathing in the dirt, wildflowers growing nearby, and Dean. “You kissed me,” he says.

“You said you loved me,” Dean shoots back.

“Did you mean it?”

“Did you?”

Cas grimaces as he turns his head to face him. “I thought it was obvious.”

Dean swallows. “No, it wasn’t,” he says quietly, “but I’ve never been good at that stuff.”

Cas squints at him. “You are the most emotionally intelligent man I’ve ever met.”

“What?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “You expertly navigate and manipulate people’s emotions to get them to talk to you, open up to you, have sex with you,” he lists. “It’s extraordinary to witness.”

Dean makes a choking noise. “Dude,” he says, which tells Cas absolutely nothing. A few more clouds pass by before Dean speaks again. “I guess the signs were there - with you. But I didn’t want to put them together.”

“Why not?”

Dean shrugs, his shoulders scraping almost inaudibly against the soil and grass stems. “Just didn’t.”

“Then that’s why I didn’t tell you. But, Dean-” Cas breaks off. This part of the conversation, despite what Dean said earlier, does not feel the same as others between them. 

Dean’s eyes flick to his. “Yeah?”

“You kissed me.”

Dean inhales a sharp breath. “I did,” he says at last.

Cas waits, but Dean doesn’t elaborate. “Was it just a ploy to get me to leave the Empty?”

“No.”

Cas grimaces. Not for the first time, his life would be so much easier if Dean could communicate without speaking in riddles or hiding every third word he wanted to say. “Dean...”

“I told you I’m working on it,” Dean says defensively.

Cas closes his eyes. “What does that mean?” he asks, his voice strained.

“It means I’m working on it,” Dean says shortly. But before Cas can press him further, he lets out an explosive sigh. “It means I don’t want to hear any more goodbyes from you. It means - it means that kiss wasn’t too bad, right?”

“I thought you were a fake version of yourself created to torture me for eternity,” Cas says flatly.

Dean props himself up on his elbows. “So all I’m hearing is there’s room for improvement.”

Cas rolls his eyes as Dean scoots closer, peering down at him. “I suppose that’s one way you could look at it.”

“Would you wanna... do something like that again?” Dean asks, his expression confident while his voice is anything but.

“Only if you want to,” Cas says seriously.

Dean licks his lips. He nods once, the movement stilted.

“Should I sit up?” Cas asks, frowning, as he half-lifts his head. “Or do you want to lay back down-”

“Cas,” Dean says impatiently, “it’s kissing we’re talking about here, not Twister.”

“I have played that game before.”

“Yeah, I remember now,” Dean says, a tentative smirk hiding in the corners of his mouth. “You ever do it naked?”

Cas frowns. “There was a strict policy against nudity in the psychiatric ward.”

Dean ducks his head, laughing silently. His forehead lands on Cas’s sternum, his breath warming Cas’s chest from the outside in.

“You were trying to say something arousing,” Cas says, a beat too late.

Dean shakes his head, grinning. “Something like that.”

“I would like to play naked Twister with you.”

Dean’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “Glad to hear it,” he says as he leans over Cas. Cas goes a bit cross-eyed to keep him in view until Dean murmurs, “Relax. ‘S just me.”

In the instant before their lips meet, Cas half-expects the whole world around him to splatter apart in a tidal wave of black, otherworldly goo. But Dean is gloriously solid, gloriously human, as he cradles Cas’s half-raised head, his fingers tangling in his hair. 

The midday sun shines; the grass whispers in the wind; and Cas is saved.

[pink-flame]

Our Song

A peak into that missing songwriting weekend where Luke and Julie finished Stand Tall.

Julie hasn't touched her songwriting notebook in a year, hasn't seen the point when she can't imagine herself finishing those songs without her mom. She never thought there would be anyone else she could trust with them. But with Luke? With Luke she just knows.

Written for the @jatpzine zine Bright Forever.

Julie clutched a notebook close to her chest, the butterfly stickers adorning its surface forming familiar shapes under her nervously gripping fingers. It was a notebook she hadn’t touched for more than a year, not since the last time she had worked on a song with her mom. She couldn’t believe that she was even considering showing it to anyone else. But that was just it...Luke wasn’t just anyone else. And ridiculous as it might seem to be so sure of that when he had just poofed into her life, Julie knew it to be true. She had known it ever since he found her in her kitchen, determined to motivate her with a wave of metaphors and almost violent compliments, a piece of his soul folded carefully in his back pocket as a gift.

Julie had known what it meant to him, “Mr. No Musician Would Ever Turn That Down”.

So after they had spent the last two days writing songs, it had suddenly occurred to Julie that maybe he was someone she could trust with the words and melodies her mom had left behind.

So she had excused herself to the house, making up an excuse about being thirsty but really making a beeline straight for her room and the forcibly forgotten back corner of her bookshelf where she had shoved her notebook a year ago. Now she was hovering just outside of the garage doors, anxiously shifting her weight as she tried to work up the courage to step inside and invite him to see a part of her even she hadn’t been able to look at for so long.

She forced a shaky breath into her lungs and stepped into their studio (when had she started to think of it as theirs). Her eyes immediately landed on Luke who had taken advantage of her absence to make himself comfortable on the couch, his back against the cushions, his legs stretching up towards the wall, his acoustic balanced precariously on his lap as he tapped out a rhythm against its body.

And just like that some of her nerves melted away as an involuntary burst of laughter escaped. His eyes snapped up to hers at the sound and a grin that definitely didn’t leave her breathless spread across his face.

“Comfy?” She asked, biting her lip in a futile effort to keep her expression neutral.

He continued grinning at her and let out a huff of air that blew one of those curls that rested against his forehead up and back to lay gently against his skin.

“I had this idea for a beat for the chorus of Great. I’ll have to run it by Alex obviously but what do you think of…”

His fingers paused mid-tap, his attention on the notebook still clutched in her hands.

“What’s that?”

Julie fought the irrational urge to hide it behind her back.

“It’s a song I was working on…before,” Julie admitted. “I thought we could look. Maybe.”

Luke’s eyes lit up and he was setting aside his guitar and leaping to his feat almost instantly. Before she could fully register his movement he was at her side, plucking the notebook from her fingers gingerly, already flipping it open and crossing to sink onto the piano bench across the room. He was getting way too good at holding solid objects and it was incredibly inconvenient.

“Stand Tall,” he practically hummed the title. “You wrote this for the piano, right?”

He smoothed out the pages while Julie walked over to sit next to him.

“Uh, yeah, we did.”

To his credit he froze at her words, glancing over first to the hands she was wringing together in her lap then up to her strained expression.

“We?”

Julie nodded, avoiding his soft gaze,

“My mom and I started it.”

There was a moment of silence during which Julie braced for the inevitable expression of sympathy, the offer to talk about her loss, the conversation that would carefully slot her back into her box as the “girl with the dead mom”.

“We should finish it,” Luke said simply, reaching behind his ear to grab the pen he had stashed there earlier (defying all logic about how ghost rules should work in the process).

The weight pressing on her chest slowly disappeared.

She had known he was someone she could trust with her mom’s last song.

But now she knew.

They worked on the song for almost an hour tossing ideas back and forth. The chorus had been pretty much finished between Julie and her mom, it was the verses that they never got around to. Luke had lots of great ideas, words that flowed around the melody in her mind perfectly. The problem was they still didn’t feel right.

Julie sighed.

“I don’t know, it's like…the song is supposed to be about never giving up, right? But…I did give up,” She forced out, trying to put the lingering ache in her heart into words. “More than once, and every time I thought I was making progress letting go it was back to the beginning.”

“So we start the song with that,” He told her eagerly, tapping the pen against the paper and bouncing a little in his seat. “One thing and it’s back to the beginning, cause everything is rushing in fast.”

“And it’s one, two, three, four times…going out of my mind…” Julie added, singing the words that had popped into her head and trying not to let herself get distracted by Luke’s slightly awed look when she did.

“Yes!” He snapped his fingers enthusiastically. “If standing tall was easy the song would be pointless. It’s about how hard it is and doing it anyway!”

He seemed to realize he had gotten carried away and reached up to rub awkwardly at the back of his head.

“Sorry, it’s your mom’s song. I shouldn’t be telling you what it’s about.”

Julie leaned over to bump her shoulder with his, the contact impossible in the end.

“It’s our song too, yours and mine.”

He bit his lip then graced her with one of those nods he only handed out when he really liked what she was saying.

“Our song,” He echoed.

It wasn’t the first song they wrote together and Julie had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

But it was the one when she knew.

And now that she knew…she would never forget.

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

sweet like the thunder on my tongue

pairing: willex

word count: 2786

tw for light swearing

It tumbles out of his mouth before he could even think about it: “But I don’t have any powers.”

Caleb smirks. “And who told you that?”

or, in which willie realizes his true strength.

taglist is in the reblogs, fic is under the cut!

—————

“Willie?”

The skater’s head pops up, cutting off the conversation he was having to look over at his boss.

“Can I see you for a moment? In my office?” Caleb gestures toward the stairwell.

Wordlessly, Willie follows him, only growing concerned when they walk right past the office and towards another room at the end of the hall which he’d never paid any mind to before. Was that door even there before? “Caleb, what’s going on?”

Caleb opened the door to the room and ushered him inside-- well, more shoved, but who is Willie to talk back to him right now-- while all Willie could do was look around and wait for Caleb to say something. The room was dark-- pitch black, actually, and he couldn’t see anything inside. He could now barely see his own hands, if not for the single hanging light above Caleb’s head as he stood in the hallway still, blocking the doorframe. With a wave of his fingers, Caleb pushed Willie down into some kind of, apparently, vantablack chair, metal clamps fastening around his wrists as soon as he reached the seat. Caleb leaned against the doorframe, seemingly inspecting his nails. “You’ve betrayed me, William.”

Willie steels himself, squeezing his eyelids shut, and replies, “I, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His efforts to cover his tracks were pitiful, to be completely honest. He wasn’t sure how much energy he had left at that point; before he’d met the band— before he’d met Alex— he thought that the best thing about the afterlife was that he could do what he wanted for as long as he wanted, day in and day out, as long as he came back to the club to do the shows. But now, his entire perspective has been shaken up, and he’s honestly gotten sick of doing the same things every single day. Why should he go see the same sights he’s seen since 1983 when he could be screaming in a museum, or stealing an entire fucking bus, or anything that can actually make a connection between him and another person?

Except, now he can’t even do that anymore. His connections are gone. They all crossed over (except for Julie, who never saw him in the first place), and he was left to his own devices, again. Willie isn’t sure what else there is for him to do, and in all transparency, if he hasn’t figured out his unfinished business yet, he doubts he ever will. Caleb putting him out of his misery now would probably just save him a lot of trouble.

“Don’t be coy,” Caleb jabs at him, standing up straight. “After all I’ve done for you? I gave you a place to stay, food to eat, things to do, and this is how you repay me? You help my recruits escape?”

Willie sighs, the helplessness beginning to overwhelm him. “What does it matter, anyway? They’ve crossed over, you don’t have competition anymore, right?”

“William, the boys are still out there. And they’ve lost their stamps.” Willie freezes. They lost their stamps? Alex is alive— or, at least, as alive as he can be? “Regardless, I have never been worried about competition. Those boys have power, power that could rival my own. I can’t just have that out there in the world, where it could fall into the wrong hands, now, can I?” Caleb sneers, a sickenly sweet smirk on his face.

Furrowing his brows, Willie rushes out in reply, “They’re playing in a pop rock band, they’re practically harmless, what could they even—”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Caleb interrupts, his icy eyes boring into Willie’s own.

Willie shuts his mouth and swallows his nerves. And maybe his pride.

Caleb leans forward, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. “I can’t have anyone’s power rival my own. That would steal away my precious audience, my empire that I’ve built over the last hundred years. Every ghost in my club would otherwise be a threat to me, had they not signed away their powers when they sold me their souls. With their powers under my possession, I have full reign over any paranormal capabilities that this world could possibly hold.” He stands back up. “I’ve kept my enemies close, you could say.”

It tumbles out of his mouth before he could even think about it: “But I don’t have any powers.”

Caleb smirks. “And who told you that?”

Willie was looking right at him. He feels no need to answer, and even if he wanted to, his mouth is going dry and there’s a lump in his throat preventing him from doing anything other than remaining still.

“Don’t get your hopes up about the boys still being here, William,” Caleb says after a moment. “They won’t be when you get out.” He slams the door, leaving Willie in the room, with nothing but dark, dark, dark, alone.

***

“Alright, where’s our first stop?” Luke asks as Julie shrugs her backpack over her shoulder and takes a sip from her water bottle. She and the boys were walking down Sunset Boulevard, her with Airpods in so she could talk to the boys without getting odd looks from others. Julie was planning a sleepover with Flynn for the following night, and the boys jumped at the chance to help her run errands, since hanging out in the studio was getting a little boring.

“Can we stop for pizza? I know we can’t eat it, but at least I can smell it!” Reggie pleads, using his puppy dog eyes.

“Reg, that face only works on Luke and Alex. You can smell it tomorrow night when she’s over, yeah?” Julie jokes. “I was thinking—”

A dark, purple smoke appears in front of them, causing them to stumble and still themselves, the boys’ faces all paling once they realize who’s in front of them.

Caleb smiles, sickeningly sweet. “Hello, boys. And you must be Julie.”

***

He has powers.

Willie has powers, and he hadn’t known this entire fucking time.

This guy, who was supposed to be Willie’s mentor for the past, who knows, thirty-ish years now, who he had once looked up to, who had taken him in has his own, who had given him a way to keep track of time again, who somehow knew he had powers that he couldn’t manage on his own, did all of it for his own advantage. He used him to gain more power and control, while making Willie think he cared. Thirty fucking years.

Right now, he’s trapped in this room, yeah, but Willie feels more suffocated by the hurt and confusion surrounding him more than anything else. He can’t stand that Alex and the boys are probably out there right now, about to be destroyed by Caleb, because of him, again. He hates that nearly all of his afterlife has just been a giant fucking lie. And with these stupid new-but-not-really powers, he doesn’t even know where to start. So, he does what he knows best.

Willie screams.

He cries a bit too, but mostly he screams until his voice grows hoarse.

Ever since he passed away, he’s always loved the feeling that grows in his chest when he screams, knowing that he can just take up so much space without anyone (or at least, anyone important) hearing. It hurts sometimes, obviously, but really it just feels like lightning forming in his veins, sparking against his the walls of his skin, ready to burst through.

He doesn’t notice until he takes a gasp for air that this time, it actually has.

Willie gasps again, this time in shock. It’s a bright, brilliant green, wires of light darting across his fingertips and palms. He doesn’t know what to do with it.

Willie squeezes his eyes shut and makes two fists, willing the stinging of the lightning to go away by distracting himself with the stinging of his own fingernails. He realizes then that he’s created light, that he’s given himself a way out, so he reopens his hands and holds them out, looking for the door that Caleb had previously slammed. He spots it and moves to get up, almost forgetting about his arm braces. He curses under his breath, and begins to rack his brain for a way out of them, the green still dancing around his arms.

He screams again.

***

They’d been cornered into an alleyway, which was probably best for any bystander’s sanity, anyway, but it meant that they were trapped by Caleb. Again.

“What do you want with us?” Luke had asked when Caleb first appeared, walking in front of Julie with a guarding arm.

Caleb had sighed in reply, taking a step forward, “Oh, I’ve decided I don’t need you three anymore. You’re not of any use to me, not without your lifer by your side. Without a life source, you’re about as powerful as any other regular ghost. I just need her.”

Luke stood fully in front of Julie then, Reggie and Alex flanking him to protect her. “You will never get to her,” Alex had chimed in, ice in his tone.

“Bold statement from someone who still chooses to hide behind his friends.” Alex had looked down at his shoes in shame, face turning red. “Oh, don’t worry, we all know you’re not brave enough to take me on by yourself,” Caleb chuckled to himself. “Besides, you boys seem to have forgotten how powerful I am— or can we do without the reminder?” Caleb added, lifting his hand as a wisp of purple smoke curled around it.

Now, after putting up a decent fight, they stand against the building as dark purple webs tangle over them, effectively pinning them down. Julie strains against them as they burn into her skin, pointedly not looking at Caleb who is inches away. Caleb puts a finger to her chin, causing her to look into his eyes. Julie sucks on her teeth, willing herself not to cry any more than she already has. “Quite a shame that such talent, such heart has to go to waste,” Caleb says, before his hand begins to glow in a manner that Julie knows could only lead to her demise.

He’s interrupted, however, by a slew of car alarms going off. Caleb swivels his head to look over at the main road, now realizing that it’s… empty?

Almost moving to walk over, Caleb hesitates just enough for the webs’ strength to weaken, and the boys poof out of their hold. They immediately begin trying to pull the web of magic off of Julie, succeeding in doing so once they notice that Caleb’s attention is no longer on them. He’s in the road now, staring down the horizon line.

“He’s distracted now, let’s poof to the studio to buy some time,” Reggie says, but Luke quickly counters, “Julie can’t poof. We would have to go back down the road, anyway.”

While Luke and Reggie are trying to figure out what to do, Julie’s eyes stray over to Alex, who is now peering around the corner of the building, eyebrows furrowed. He suddenly runs over to the road, and Julie calls after him. The three run to catch up to Alex and stand in terror just a few feet behind Caleb, who is still seemingly frozen in place.

They feel it before they can see it.

The hair on their arms and the backs of their necks begin to stand on end, a quiet humming in the atmosphere causing an adrenaline rush kind of energy around them. The humming thrums into a pulse, concentrating around what Caleb must’ve been looking at; a sharp, sparking green light floating in the air down the road. It grows bigger and bigger, until a silhouette suddenly appears in its place, looking at the ground. “Hey, Caleb!”

Alex’s heart stops when he realizes who it is.

Willie looks up from the ground and begins to make his way over, thunderous step by thunderous step. His eyes shine fully in bright green, almost like the lightning inside of him was leaking out. He reaches forward and a beam of crackling light shoots forward, splitting and clasping itself around Caleb’s wrists in constraint. With rumbling intensity, Willie continues, “You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me my entire afterlife, pretending to care. Every time you stamped someone, you told me it was because they would be dangerous otherwise, that you were just ‘protecting the ghost world’, and then you turn and do it to my friends. You’ve hurt me, you’ve hurt the people I care about, and it doesn’t even matter to you. I don’t even want to know the number of other ghosts you’ve screwed over like you have us.” Willie heaves in a breath, his arm beginning to shake as Caleb tries to overpower him with his own powers. “I can’t let you do this anymore.”

Caleb grits through his teeth, “You don’t get much of a say, William, I own you.”

“Not anymore.” Willie screams again, causing the beam shooting out of his palm to reinforce itself, the sparks around Caleb’s wrists slowly crawling around his skin until it looked like his veins were filled with light. “You aren’t strong enough to beat me, William, I know you more than you know yourself. You can’t do this,” Caleb tries, but Willie just screams louder, drowning him out.

The screams nearly shake the air, causing Julie to lean on Luke for support, with Reggie resting a hand on her shoulder. Alex wants to reach out, to do something, but he knows there’s nothing he really can do to help. He knew Willie was one of a kind, it was obvious from every interaction they’d had up to that point, but he never expected him to be that powerful. It was terrifying, if he was being honest. And Alex didn’t want to be scared of him, especially while he was literally putting his life on the line for them, but it was almost as if Willie was losing control.

Wait.

A small, dwindling purple smoke emits from Caleb’s palms, encircling the cuffs on his wrists, and the green light inside of him dims. Willie is panting in between his screams, running out of energy. Inhaling sharply, Alex doesn’t think twice before bolting over to him, ignoring the protests from his friends.

Alex stands behind him and grips his hands onto Willie’s shoulders, focusing all of his energy into his fingertips, just like he had on that day in the museum. And, just like that day, he screams with Willie, hoping and praying to a god he no longer believes in that it helps, that it works.

It does.

The lightning bursts out at a rapid speed, nearly enveloping Caleb, almost as if it was tearing him apart, atom by atom. It grows brighter, and brighter, and brighter, until—

He’s gone. Small ashes lie in the spot where Caleb once stood, now dissipated into thin air.

Willie collapses to the ground in exhaustion and Alex grasps onto him, as if he’ll disappear himself if he lets go. After a brief moment, Willie takes a sharp breath, wincing in a burning, stinging type of pain, and lets out a breath of relief once it goes away. He knows exactly what that was, he could feel it; his soul was finally back in his body.

Willie looks down at his wrist. The familiar stamp from the Hollywood Ghost Club is still there, however it no longer has its signature purple sheen. It’s black and faded now, like a thirty-year-old tattoo he’s come to regret.

“Are you okay?” Alex asks, pulling away, his face the picture of worry. Willie notices then that Julie, Luke, and Reggie are knelt next to him, too, their own expressions almost as bad as Alex’s.

Willie smiles a sad smile. It’s a weak thing, but it’s genuine. “You’re still here.”

Recognition washes over Alex’s face, and he softly lifts his hand to Willie’s chin. “Of course I am. I told you, I’d follow you anywhere, yeah?”

Willie chuckles and ducks his head. “Yeah, well, somehow, you did.”

Alex lightly pulls on his chin so he can look him in the eye, a burning intensity present there that Willie hasn’t seen in, well, thirty years. “We can explain that later, okay? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Willie does a small nod. “I will be.”

Alex pulls him back into a tight hug, and Willie sinks into his arms. He knows they’ll both ask questions later; all that matters right now is that they’re there, that they’ve got each other.

And now, they always will.

[diavolosthots]

Hi! Can I please request Solomon with female!MC? Let's say they're not very close, civil/casual at most but with some distance since they don't get to spend time with each other, but MC has a crush on him. And one day they just find themselves alone together and there's some awkward tension. Aaaa I don't even know where I'm going for, lol. But you know, there's some kind of electric thingy happening. I hope that makes sense?! Hehe thanks

Honestly i dont know where i was going with this but ya know. Also you said female but honestly theres no genitals or breasts or the like mentioned so although its tagged as F its honestly more GN

Tension ( SOLOMON X F!READER )

Life in the Devildom was honestly not what you expected at all. Had someone told you that demons actually exist, and that wizards and witches were real, you would’ve laughed in their face because wow that seems… a little too far out there, Karen. Yet, here you are, besties with the Devil, speaking with Lucifer himself, and crushing on a wizard that doesn’t even know you exist. Well, he knew of your existence, but how much could that actually mean when you rarely ever talked with one another. Luke was your only way to get to the guy, and even then, you both tried to avoid him in the kitchen because no matter how much you liked Solomon, his cooking is atrocious. You’d rather drink bleach than try that again. Sadly, he’s a little too dense to realize that, although the Gods have blessed him with magic, they certainly didn’t bless him with basic cooking skills. All of that, however, doesn’t really seem to matter much when all you really want is his attention. 

Unbeknownst to you, he’s quite curious about you as well. His feelings are neutral, he thinks, and if anything, he’s just more concerned with another human being in the Devildom, one who seemingly can’t defend themselves, although he has no proof of that. He’s curious on how your stay will turn out, if it even turns that is. You could always just get eaten by demons and in that scenario, he isn’t sure if he would’ve said, “I knew it!” or genuinely be upset. Maybe a bit of both? To him, he thinks, you’re just a science experiment at the moment, and he’s thinking of doubling up with Satan to see how far he could push your limits. He knew he needed to push his own limits to get somewhere, so why wouldn’t you be the same? Honestly, he thinks that humans have that in common; needing to be pushed to their limits to unlock their full potential. 

But anyhow, the point is, you two can’t really form a meaningful relationship for the life of you. Even at RAD, where you have most classes together, it always seems that you’re getting dragged away, or he finds himself surrounded by succubi that would love to kiss his naked feet. Weird, but okay. The incubi are up your arse, too, so it’s not really something unusual. It’s just that it feels like the universe is.... Forcing you to be apart almost? Through really weird circumstances. “We’re still going to the spa later, right, (Y/N)?” Asmodeus pulled you out of your thoughts, twirling a strain of your hair in his fingers. You forced a soft smile, honestly not feeling it anymore, but not wanting to let him down, “‘of course.” but that’s when it happened. Complete darkness. All the lights, even the fires, inside of RAD seemingly went out. Diminished. Poof. Gone. Was this what hell was actually like and the powers of the Devildom were finally tired of Diavolo being too soft?

“(Y/N)?” You felt a hand on your arm and screamed, only for someone to laugh and you quickly figured out it was Solomon. “Solomon?” You felt around in the dark until your hand finally touched something; a coat. You breathed a sigh of relief and moved a little closer until you felt his body heat, but not his body because that’d be weird. “It’s you. What’s going on.” He’s glad the dark is covering him because the sudden touch does have him feeling some type of way, but that’s probably because he can’t see and all his other senses are going crazy. “I don’t know. I’m even more confused as to why everyone else seemed to have left. I walked around a bit and I’m not bumping into anyone, I can’t even hear anyone, except for you. My magic isn’t working either for some odd reason, so I can’t even light a candle or the like.” “You carry candles around?” Honestly it shouldn’t surprise you but you were still kind of confused by his statement; who carries candles around?

A soft laugh filled the air around you and you could’ve sworn you felt the rumble in Solomon’s chest as the sound left him, “yes, of course. You never know when you’ll need them.” But you only frowned, glaring at him although you’re not sure if you’re facing him in the dark, “so you carry candles around but no matches?” Silence. Solomon, truthfully, felt a little bit embarrassed, but he recovers quickly, “well, usually I’d just use my magic.” Another wave of silence passed and you heard Solomon shift before the sound of a chair moving across the floor could be heard and you assumed he had sat down and the silence ensued until he interrupted it, “any reason this could have happened? The Devildom is in complete darkness, not even the castle is lighting up.” You looked forward to where you’d think the window is and he’s right; not even the castle is lit up.

“Do you… do you think something happened to Lord Diavolo that is causing the Devildom to be so dark?” He snorts, silently making fun of that, “why? Because he’s the only light down here?” “Th-that’s not what I meant! I mean… he is the most powerful being down here right? So maybe, if he lost his power, even just for a moment, all of it would be gone.” Solomon hummed in thought, thinking about it but ultimately deciding against it, “no. His powers, or lack thereof, shouldn’t affect all the sources of light…” back to silence. Honestly, that was the worst part about this. The constant silence. It’s so draining and so overwhelming all at once. You knew he was right there, just an outstretched hand away, but at the same time he didn’t feel close enough, “(Y/N)...” your name falling off his lips brought you back and you looked at him, well… you looked in the direction where you thought he would be. Suddenly, a pair of hands snuck around your waist and pulled you into a seating position. You quickly figured out that this was his lap.

“Solomon…!” Your body was tense against his, although you had to admit he did feel fairly warm and theoretically speaking, you could potentially relax against him. “Hm? Oh, right. Sorry about that, I was just thinking that if everyone else disappeared, there’s nothing keeping you or I from disappearing either, and I rather keep you close to me before that happens.” His reasoning seemed fine, although that didn’t make you feel any less tense. Honestly, there was so much tension all around. It was as if he was the cause of the tension, and you were beginning to understand exactly why. You swallowed thickly, shifting in his lap a bit until you, presumably, faced him. His grip on your hips never faltered, and instead, firmed up. “Solomon I… This may sound dumb, but… can I kiss you?” A sudden rush of confidence flew through you and your hands moved to find his face, cupping it gently. You hoped he looked at you right now or this could end kind of awkward, “yes.” 

He didn’t know what prompted him to agree to it but he found himself leaning up a bit, trying to find your face. His lips found something and his eyes immediately fluttered close, his lips pursing to kiss it, only to find you laughing and he immediately pulled back, thinking this was a joke, “I… I hate to break it to you but that was my eyeball.” Well now he’s laughing too. “Haha… well… take two?” You nodded, forgetting that he can’t see and leaned in, kissing his forehead on accident, “you need to lean up, too, Solomon!” He’s grinning, although you can’t see, “what if I wanted a forehead kiss? Besides… third time’s a charm, no?” Once again, you both tried, finding the corners of each other’s lips and moving in from there, smiling into the kiss. The tension seemed to lift, at least for you, and you wondered if he felt the same tension before, “see? Third time’s a charm.” 

He didn’t dare pull away too far, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands sliding up your curves to get tangled in your hair and move your face just a little bit closer against his. You sat there, in his lap, kissing him for what felt like hours, and even after your lips were swollen and numb, you couldn’t help but lean in for another, and another, and another… the light never turning back on as far as you were concerned. 

[skellebonez]

Hey, hey Skelle. 41and 51 with Spider Queen/Macaque/Wukong with the three adjusting to Spider Wukong and the first two trying not to be obvious that they're having a crisis.

Oh I know these two are absolute fucking disasters after Spider Wukong happens. They are the biggest bi/pan disasters and Wukong knows it. Here is some very important artwork that you need to be aware of (because I use them as references).

Spoilers for, well. Everything.

Can you teach me how to do that?/Can you two save the kissing for later?

"You did this," Macaque said bluntly to the Spider Queen, not taking his eyes off the display in front of them. "You did this and I don't know whether to thank you or hate you."

"I am aware," she sighed, only looking away to look down at the four armed and four eyed spider monkie beside her. "Is this a formal complaint?"

"Take a wild guess," Macaque managed out out, resting his head in his palm as he tried to stop the swishing of his tail.

"You're hopeless."

She turned back to watch Sun Wukong effortlessly move things around his island. It was always easy for him, it would take no effort for the Monkey King to move a tree with one hand. Except now... now he was a six armed and massively tall Spider Monkie just like Macaque. Only taller. With two more arms.. And always shirtless. And as he displayed this massive amount of strength he was gently grooming one of his many monkey subjects so carefully in his extra arms.

A dangerous sight for his two partners to behold.

~

Things had calmed down a lot since, well, everything that happened. Most of their lives were much less hectic with Spider Queen and her family combining with Team MK and the White Bone Spirit finally dealt with.

But that didn't mean they could afford to just relax all the time. There were still enemies out there, more so with the side switching and the reveal of MK being Spider Queen's son, and given the transformations both immortal monkies went through they needed to stretch and move around to keep themselves in decent shape. So that was how they found themselves in a light sparring match, working out excess energy and finding it more enjoyable than they had in centuries.

"You're getting rusty, Peaches!" Macaque teased, using his four arms to cartwheel sideways and then backwards with much more ease than he ever had before. "Come on, you have to have some kind of trick up your non-existent sleeves!"

Spider Queen watched from the sidelines in the shade, shaking her head at the terrible banter. "Speak for yourself."

Wukong didn't say anything, just smirked and rushed at his partner. Macaque strafed to the side, easily dogging the kicks and punches and finding himself let laughter bubble up as the fight continued. It had been so long since their last spar and he felt almost as good as he had ever been!

And then Wukong gently grabbed his face.

Distantly he felt four hands wrap around his four wrists and that was all the warning he got before Wukong flipped them sideways and Macaque landed backwards in the dirt.

He froze, the six armed spider monkie's top set of hands cupping his face like it was made of glass. He was suddenly very aware of exactly how close the other's face was to his own, how the lighter hair of his sideburns blended into his regular hair now, how bright green the other's eyes were and how wide his pupils were (was that normal? he couldn't think well enough to remember), and how excessively tall he was. He was so tall.

"I win," Wukong announced, hands now cradling the back of Macaque's head to keep it from hitting the dirt and wrists still held captive in his hands. He chuckled as he rolled them over again, so easy and so strong and Macaque felt like his own limbs were putty as Wukong sat back against a nearby boulder. He only watched with a wry smile as Macaque fell forward, hand out between two of his own arms to catch himself before he face planted into the other's chest. He felt Wukong let his wrists go, his middle arms on either side going to rest on his waist in some fashion and one of hi lower hands running up and down his back with claws digging through the coarse fur.

He didn't move the hands cradling his face.

"You're cute like this, you know."

Wukong said this with a soft low chuckle, and Macaque tensed up as he felt the taller's hand move from running along his spine to trail up the back of his tail from base to tip. His now massive stature making this a much easier endeavor, especially when Macaque's traitorous tail lifted of it's own accord to meet the touch against it.

All Macaque could do was tense as his fur poofed up, ears flared out, face flushed red, and an odd choking noise that sounded like it was mixed with a deflating tire escaped his mouth.

"Oh no... oh no, he has it baaaaaad," Spider Queen breathed from a distance, unable to hide the flush of her own face. "I made him more powerful... he's doing this on purpose, I know it."

Eventually Wukong stood the two of them up and had to run off to take care of some of the baby monkeys on their island home, leaving Macaque to stand there. And watch. As he left.

Then he immediately covered his face with his hands and screamed into them.

Spider Queen snuck away from Macaque later in the day, finding the courage to ask Wukong "Can you teach me how to do that?"

He laughed but obliged.

~

Spider Queen wasn't unused to moving around on her real legs, she'd done it before. Like when she had tricked Pigsy (and Tang by association) at the food market that long long time ago. But she had relied on her mech so much since then and had been ripped from it so violently, torn from it in a way that wasn't supposed to disconnect her from it at all, and then spent so much time in... whatever plane she was trapped in within the Trigram Furnace that walking again was difficult at times.

Then again... maybe if she hadn't insisted to herself that she needed to wear longer dressed and massive pumps and wedges and heels to make herself taller, so that she wouldn't have to crane her neck to look at her partners and so they wouldn't have to strain their backs to look at her... maybe she wouldn't be in this position.

Not that she was complaining. Oh no. Complaints about this exact scenario left the second it started.

She'd followed at least some of her partner's insistence that she stop wearing stilettos until she got the hang of safer heels. She was wearing wedges this time, still tall and extreme and probably not the best for someone still recovering. But she managed well enough.

Until she stumbled standing from the stool at Pigsy's, her legs more tired from the walk then she had expected.

It almost felt like it happened in slow motion. She was headed face first toward the floor. Then two arms grabbed her from behind, then another two, then when her momentum stopped a fifth and sixth brushed her hair away from her face as Wukong stood her up back onto shaky feet.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his grip loose but not entirely letting go yet. "Do your legs hurt?"

"N-no," she stuttered out, trying her best to keep her face impartial and to not let the blush forming take hold. "They're just... tired, I suppose."

"That's good," Wukong said, shaking his head after a moment. "Well, it's not good they're tired, but still. How about I help you get home?"

"UH... ok?" She said softly, and instantly she was off the ground.

And Wukong was off the ground.

They were both off the ground, the Monkey King lounged lazily on his cloud and Spider Queen cradled carefully in two of his sets of arms with her head resting on his chest. And... oh no. This was nice actually.

She felt her face flush more.

"Comfortable?" Wukong asked, tone low and soft with a smirk on his face as he moved it closer and she knew that he was doing it on purpose again. His pupils were oddly dilated as well... spiders and monkeys didn't do that, they weren't cats, but this was the monkey king and demons purred so... who knows.

"Yes," was the high pitched squeak that escaped her, and who knows what would have happened if a loud cough had not sounded from Pigsy.

Oh right. They were in his shop still.

"Can you two save the kissing for later? When you're not blocking the entrance to my shop, maybe?"

Wukong only laughed and zipped out of the store on his cloud, hugging Spider Queen more firmly against his chest.

... she needed to wear even more heels if this is where it got her.

~

The two were pressed into and laid their heads on either side of the partner's chest, the couch almost just a smidgen too small for all of them. But Wukong had fallen asleep in between them and they didn't have the hearts to wake him up. His head rested on one of his top arms, the other lazily slung over the back of the couch, while the other two wrapped around Spider Queen and Macaque softly.

Protectively.

One of Macaque's own arms was reaching over to hold Spider Queen's hand softly.

"Thank you," Macaque said after a moment. "I am with drawing my formal complaint."

She couldn't help but laugh.

[mxvladdy]

True Form- Belphegor

*collapses dramatically* Oh Gods its done! Sorry for the break! I hope my edits are good! 

More to come in this series soon :) 

Hope y’all enjoy!

True Form- Belphegor

Keeping a defined for is hard. Too hard for him anyway.

His true form is inconspicuous. He just naturally doesn’t take up much space in the physical realm. He likes it this way though.

An overlooked predator is a dangerous one.

If he is ever seen in this form it looks like a thin film. He drapes over everything, like dust in an unopened room, or the cling of fresh dew in the morning in the rose garden.

He never uses it when awake. His human form is more palatable and functional in all honesty. Don’t get me wrong though, he doesn’t hate it. It used to be really useful when he wanted to nap and Lucifer was on the prowl. But, such good things can only last for so long. Now Lucifer can sniff him out from a mile away incorporeal or no after centuries of practice.

His real form is best implemented in the minds of his slumbering victims. He can cultivate himself there, using his form to feel out the needs and desires of his unsuspecting host.

He is a manipulator, tried and true. His cunning and wile gets him pacts more than a promise of power or wealth.

Belphegor draws them in with promises of grandeur and unexplored inventions. Limitless discoveries all at the very tips of their fingers, if only they take one more step further. One more little slip deeper into the abyss. Then they can stay sleeping forever with him.

Even as an angel he was known as a dreamer. More often then not he could be found in the inner sanctums sleeping with Beel and Lilith during lessons or being carried around by Lucifer. Back then he always had pleasant dreams or innovative ideas that the other angels made use of. The little inventor.

Now that he has fallen, nightmares come to him more often than not, uncontrollable flashes of The War, his sister’s death, and the pain of betrayal. Perhaps that was his punishment, always drowsy with no control over when he sleeps, with nothing but nightmares to accompany him.

When he has control over himself in his slumber he likes to flit around into other’s dreams. Most of the time he goes to Beel’s as they are very pleasant and help distract him from the night terrors he had just escaped from.

Sometimes when bored or pissy he jumps to Lucifer’s dreams. It’s a rare occurrence when they are asleep at the same time, but he takes absolute delight in fucking with his oldest brother’s dreams or looking for secrets to lord over him.

He doesn’t come into your dreams uninvited though. Not after you freed him. You have given him permission to. But he uses it sparingly. When he needs a break from his own head he might control when you are tired. Just so he can have some time out of his head.

He is very controlling in that retrospect. He will form the shape of your dreams at first. But, you ween him out of it. Now he trains you to lucid dream. He lets you shape your reality around you both. You don’t know it, but he is allowing you to shape him as well.  

Mini Fic

He watches you from a distance. The grassy knoll you built was bright and airy. Pink and purple flowers sway in the light breeze you created, winking at him as they move. The large willow draping over you pulls a happy little hum from your chest. The swinging branches tickling your sun kissed cheeks. You lounge sprawled out on the ground staring up at the false sun with the largest grin on your face. The rays of sunshine illuminate your prone form, casting stark shadows in its wake. They travel down the hill searching and coiling for shelter from the strong lighting. They find him, latching on to his bare feet and merge with his own disjointed outline. How apropos.

"You can come up here Belphie. Promise I won't bite." You call out into the sky. Your eyes were still closed, but you tilt your head in his direction none the less. The smile you throw down at him is more blinding than the sun you dreamt up.

“I don’t want to intrude.” He steps out from the tree line blinking owlishly. Being welcomed in a dream had been unheard of before you. The mindscape was an intimate and private space. He was meant to be an invader, a taint. Before this he had been nothing but a rogue clinging to the edges. A whisper of temptation carried on the wind, or the hollow thud of a heel echoing down an empty street. It’s different here, with you. You expected to see him or sense him in whatever form he chooses. It was-nice.

“You're never an intrusion.” Your raw honesty floors him still, even after all this time together. “Had a rough night?” You ask patting the space beside you.

“Something like that.” He murmurs dropping down next to you. He is distracted momentarily by the heat radiating off your body. “You’ve been practicing.” You beam, proud that he noticed so quickly. His lessons on dream walking and lucid dreaming were hard, but looks like they were finally paying off.

It had been difficult at first, keeping a solid detailed form while knowing you were asleep. Then trying to stay asleep while doing it. You had to fight against the instinct to wake up constantly. It was like somewhere deep inside your psyche was trying to protect you, like it knew what happened when a human ventures too far into this place. Almost like it knew that a cunning little demon was lurking somewhere down here.  

“How’d you guess?” You ask rolling onto your side. He answers by reaching out to you and dragging a soft finger down your bare arm. You shiver at the cool touch, little goosebumps awakening under his touch. Your picturesque scene wavers at the corners from his touch. The caress breaking your concentration for a moment. Belphegor smirks. “I’m still working on it!” You blush.

“I don’t mind, as long as I’m the only one that that can shake you so.” He pulls away to summon a large pillow for himself. You watch him try to get comfortable. He punches and rolls around the poof for a moment trying to get comfortable. You could tell something was troubling him. The energy in his gaze was borderline manic. His usually relaxed stature was strung taut, right on the border of snapping. He would murder you again if you said it; but he looked so much like Lucifer right now. Tight, cold, and rigid. A clear signal of distress.

“You want to take the helm?” You wave around the small scene offering him a distraction. He could expand the scene far further than you could, probably ever could. “Or do you want to let your hair down?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. You smile at his little snort, that human saying always got him to laugh.

“Sure you don’t mind?” You shake your head and sit up. Truth be told, you liked his weird demon form. You could never entirely place where he was when he was in it, but you just knew he was there and close. It was reassuring.

He breathes a sigh of relief before flopping backward. He disappears on impact with the soft ground. The grass and flowers coming up to engulf him as he takes over.  He flows around you into every corner of your mind, stretching himself to the furthest corners of your dream. He weaves himself in your fantasy. You get swept up in it for a moment. The raw force of him pulling at your center. It is suffocating for a moment, the oppressive weight of his magic. It brings out a bone-deep weariness in you without meaning to. You feel the growing need to just rest. Just a moment.

“Back with me?” You open your eyes. When had you closed them?

“Ye, sorry.” You lean up onto your elbow and shake your head to clear the fog that still clung to it. It was always a head rush when he did that. Blinking the rest of his magic away you take in your now joint dream. The sun was gone, replaced with twin moons and awash with multicolored stars. His sky bled colors, dripping purples and blues onto the green grass around the edges of your vision. The more you focus the more the field grows and stretches. Off in the distances, tiny tents emerge, sprouting up like shoots from the blackness. “Really?” You eye the tents with a wry smile. If you strained your ear you could hear faint carnival music.

A low rumble bounces around you. “You suddenly have an issue with the circus?”

“Absolutely not!” You raise, calling out into the vastness around you. “You better make a carousel!” You could feel him chuckle around you as you began your trek down the hill.

Belphegor is quiet while you navigate the forest. He’s whole being hyper focused on building the world around your quick steps. His was divided and working overtime in an attempt to distract himself. Part of him was busy building the carnival, another working on making sure you don’t stir from your slumber, and the other awake and aware. He hasn’t done this in a while, splitting his consciousness so thin like this. His human body lumbering along in the physical world while his mind was busy in the subconscious one. Hopefully, none of his brothers were awake and would try to intervene. He wanted to be close to you, in both body and mind tonight. You reach the edge of the woods and he turns his full attention back to you.

He had gone all out for you. Bright lights and the echoing laughter of imaginary guests assault your senses. You could even taste buttered popcorn and caramel on the tip of your tongue. A warm hand takes yours causing you to jump. Belphie gives you an apologetic grin for startling you before dragging you off into the park without a word. Who knows how long the two of you spent. Time, as you understood it, worked differently here. Faster or slower you had no idea. But, right now you didn’t care. He needs you here in the present.

“So-” You start hesitantly much later in the evening. You lick at some cotton candy that had gotten stuck on your fingers. “Want to talk about it?” Belphegor shoots you a look from where he perched. His feet dangling from a study steel fence. He watches you ride the slow-moving carousel as it goes round and round in lazy circles. He mulls over what to say as you make a rotation.  

“I dreamt of Lilith again.” He admits. He comes to sit on the metal animal beside you, disappearing and reappearing in a puff of smoke at your side.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ye. Me too.” He pats the kelpie he sits on. Its listless eyes bore into his. His old nightmares reflecting in their ruby gaze. He wanted to be over this. Why wasn’t he over this? The longer he stares into the horses dead eyes the more his nightmares creep back onto him.The dream shifts around you. The air dropping in temperature drastically. The merry background noises choked off and replace with a buzzing that made your head hurt. The sound of metal striking metal and shouts start to grow at the base of your neck.  

“Belphie-” You reach out for him, cupping his face. He doesn’t notice you anymore. His mind going somewhere you shouldn’t venture. His expression turns stormy, closing off to you completely. Fear begins to build up inside of you. Something uncontrollable riding in on the fast building winds. The night sky he built changes. Stars blinking out one after another like blown bulbs. The moons swelling in size, crashing into each other as your dream begins to crumble. “Shit.” You had to wake up, and fast.

You awake with a start back in your bed. Eyes snapping open while your body lays motionless. An odd sensation of sleep paralysis locking your joints. Something radiates behind you, a lanky body drawn close to yours. Sweet breath tickles the nape of your neck. Fighting the paralysis that held you, you turn to greet your bed guest.

Belphie’s half-lidded eyes seem to look through you. His body was icy, a ghostly vapor wafted over of his pale skin. You tried to wake him but your tongue was stuck. All you could do was stare wide-eyed as he dreamt. He comes back to you slowly. His eyes twitch and roll sporadically until he blinks, drawing in a ragged breath as he comes to. His skin warms with each passing tick of your alarm clock. As your drowsy demon stirs the stiffness in your body begins to ebbs. His chokehold on your mind weakening. After what seemed like an eternity he awakens. He takes you in for a moment and then he’s on you, lurches forward to drag your pliant body to his. “Scared me for a second there Belphie.” You mutter into his soft hair.

He sighs, breathing in your scent and focusing on your strong pulse. It had been a while since he had lost control of himself like that. Building up a world was easy. Tearing it down was even easier. The thread that kept people under was thin, like a single strand of silk. To lose himself to a nightmare in another being’s head? It was unheard of. It terrified him. “Did I hurt you?” He rasps.

“No,” You reassure him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty brow. “I woke up in time.” He goes quiet again trying to keep his breathing steady. “Hey.” You stroke a few strands of hair from his face. “You’re thinking pretty hard there, can I help?”

Could you help? If he was losing control of his dreamscape again… He would have to tell Lucifer. A shudder runs up his spine at the thought of retraining. No, he was still strong enough to keep it under control “Just keep stroking my hair, please?” He yawns widely, lethargy hitting him hard. He drifts off to the feel of your fingers flowing smoothly through his hair. The lingering fears slip further and further from his mind with each soft caress.  

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

for the prompt, maybe the whole gang + boardgames?

congrats on 500!!

Thank you! (Not gonna lie, since you didn’t specify if “whole gang” meant sunset curve or julie and the phantoms, my initial thought was to take it as literally every named character. So... stay tuned for an eventual sequel where every character comes to game night. though if you send me another ask about it i’ll get to it faster lol)

But anyway, I usually have a lot of trouble writing things with more than two characters at a time, so this was a great challenge for me. I hope you like it!

--

Game night is a Molina family tradition.

Once a month, they all gather in the living room in their PJs with way too much take out and take turns choosing a game to play. They stay up as late as it takes to play through everyone’s choices, and whoever’s won the most games by the end of the night gets five dollars and bragging rights for the rest of the month.

It used to be one of Julie’s favorite things. Her dad always chose Trivial Pursuit 80s and 90s Edition and then never won anything. Carlos always chose Monopoly and insisted on being the banker, even when he was too young to count any of the money without an adult’s help. Julie used to cycle through their big cabinet of board games and take the better part of an hour picking something out and then make everyone listen as she read the instructions aloud, even if it was a game they’d all played before. When Tía Victoria was able to join them, she cheated terribly, but she paid for the food, so no one could complain.

And every Game Night, every month, without fail, Mom won. Every game sometimes, but at least enough of them to take home the crown at the end of the night. She always cheered and put on her favorite Selena album for a dance party while they cleaned up, and then she gave Carlos and Julie exactly two dollars and fifty cents each, claiming, “It’s not about the money, mijos, it’s about being proud of yourself!”

They haven’t had a game night since she got sick. The last one was three weeks before her diagnosis, and she’d been tired and distracted the whole time, making stupid mistakes, letting Carlos and Julie win. She went to bed the minute they finished the last game, and Julie and her dad cleaned up the board games in silence.

By the time Rose Molina has been gone a year and a half, and Julie’s made some new friends, joined a band, and somehow brought three ghosts back from the brink of non-existence, Julie’s mostly managed to forget about their game nights. They’re just another one of the many things—like Mom’s chuletas and her Selena CDs and her fantastic hugs—that Julie’s had to push to the back of her mind just to keep herself from falling apart.

But then, she walks into her living room after school one day, eager to shower and change her clothes before going to find the guys, and finds the guys—crowded around the game cabinet (Luke is actually sitting on top of it, because he has the height issues of a feral cat), arguing about something or other, pieces of various board games scattered across the floor around them.

“What are you guys doing?” Julie says, and all three ghosts jump (Luke startles so badly he poofs out and then reappears on the floor between the other two, leaning so far into his “act natural” pose that he almost knocks Reggie over). Julie raises an eyebrow, silently repeating the question.

The boys exchange wide-eyed looks, and then Alex sighs. “It’s dumb.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.”

When, still, no one offers up an explanation, Julie crosses her arms over her chest and trains a sharp look on each of them in turn (it’s a look she definitely picked up from her mom). “All right. Who’s going to tell me what’s going on here? Reggie?”

He ducks his head, hands in his pockets, like if he can’t see her then she can’t see him. Julie rolls her eyes and moves on to who she thinks will be the easiest to crack. “Luke?”

He blushes and steps forward, gesturing wildly as he stammers out, “Well, you see, boss, we were just—and actually it was Alex who—and then Willie said—”

Julie holds up a hand. “Stop. Don’t strain yourself. Alex?” She gives her third and final bandmate a pleading look.

Alex heaves a great sigh, resolutely looks Julie in the eye, and admits, “We were looking to see if you had Pretty Pretty Princess.”

Julie blinks, baffled. That was not at all what she’d expected him to say. “Can I ask why…?”

“It was Alex’s favorite back in the day!” Reggie says, grinning now that he’s not trying to keep things from her anymore. “We used to play it with his little sister, and Alex would get the crown every single time.”

Alex shrugs humbly, smirking. “What can I say? I knew my talents. Luke, on the other hand, always lost.”

“I didn’t lose,” Luke protests. “I chose to give up because I looked badass in the black ring!”

“Anyway, so Willie told Alex they’ve never played it,” Reggie cuts in before Luke and Alex can get into an argument. “So we were trying to see if you had it so we could all play together.”

That’s when Julie remembers—game nights with her family, her mother’s frankly ridiculous winning streak—but instead of it making her sad, the memory sends a smile spreading across her face. “You know what, Reggie? I think that’s a great idea. Alex, go get Willie. I’ll call Flynn. It’s time I introduced you boys to Molina Family Game Night.”

featuring subtle he/they Willie cause I was too much of a cis coward to use it last time

Send me a pairing and a prompt to celebrate my 500th follower!

--

Taglist: @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @nickalicious @reggiescrookedteeth @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @spidergirl0325 @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @cest-la-vie-de-la-lee @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @moreflowersthanweeds @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas 

[chillassimagines]

Touching You, Touching Me - John Young Smut

(REQUESTED) John Young smut please. He walks in on her playing with herself and he feels really bad about it and she is embarrassed about it. The 2 of them always had an attraction to each other but never said anything they also has sexual tension too. Then they end up finally giving in to their desires. Lots of foreplay ;). Thank you!

~

Everything felt heightened. You could smell your apple hibiscus candle burning in the corner as if it was right under your nose. Your skin was heating up with anticipation. Your core followed suit as you pleasured yourself with nothing but your own soaked fingers. You knew exactly what needed to happen to get you to your place.

Ah, the art of self pleasure. It was one to be trialed, one to be frequented, and one that gave you an organic high. Your free fingers clutched the sheets of your bed with no plans of letting go. Your toes followed by curling up tightly and loosening the sheets by your jerking. Your neck strained willingly by raising with your spine creating a bliss induced arch.

“Well Y/N, we have to-oh!” You caught a glimpse of John teleporting into your room, making you grab the very pillows you were arched against to cover your naked body.

“John, wow, um, you’re in my room.” You stammered, fueled by flustering. John turned to the side and looked up at the ceiling.

“Seems so, I, uh just needed to talk to you about…yanno, that’s probably not very important right now.” You raised a brow, curious as to why he didn’t just leave in the first place.

“Are you happy to be here, John?” In surprise, he looked at you curiously, before realizing you still weren’t all the way covered.

“I have no idea what that’s even supposed to mean, Y/N.”

“You could have just poofed on outta here, a billion times already, that’s what it means.” He swallowed deeply, signaled by the movement of his Adam’s apple. This caused your eyes to fall upon his lips, the ones you’d catch yourself staring at sometimes. His arms folded over one another created a focus on his fit physique.

“Do you want me to leave?” You snapped out of your daze and shook your head.

“You don’t have to…” John slowly turned his head back towards your body. His eyes held contact with yours portraying a fierceness. He allowed his feet to carry him to the foot of the bed where your own curled toes lay. You moved the pillow away from your breasts, making John’s eyes widened. “Only if you remove something.” You spoke softly. He kicked off his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt, and unbuckled his pants in a daze. You sat up and reached out your hand. He took it and found his place above your body with his own.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but I never guessed you’d let me be on top of you.” You ran your hands absentmindedly down his flexed chest down to the base of his boxers. There laid a thick outline of his manhood.

“Mmm, glad we felt similar things…but, I’m going to want you inside of me.” You lowered your voice, setting the tone for the rest of the evening. John’s hands wrapped around thighs that encompassed the pillow covering up your own womanhood.

“I thought I’d take a little bit of my time with you.” He squeezed your thighs after this statement, making excitement run through your veins. Your fingers plucked the pillow from in between your thighs, to throw it to the side.

“By all means, please do.” John leaned down to press your lips together and you sighed inwardly in content. Your hands tugged on the hair that grew thick on his head. His hands pressed your thighs against his as he grinded against your bare core. His lips dropped down to your neck. His tongue assisted in sucking, licking, and nibbling-no doubt hickeys-on your neck. You moaned out his name while bucking your hips against his in rhythm.

“I can feel how wet you are.” He grunted directly into your ear, feeling the vibrations of his voice coming through his chest against your skin. One of your hands pressed his lower back closer to your body and stayed there.

“Faster.” You commanded softly. John followed your gentle order and sped up his pace. You felt the wet trail of his lips travel down to your hardened nipples.

“So pretty.” He muttered before muffling his moans with your breasts inside of his lust hungry mouth. Your heels of your feet dug into his behind as you felt the perfect amount of friction against your sensitive bud.

“I’m cumming.” You sighed out and gasped as John’s hands grasped onto your ass cheeks harshly. Your body finally halted spasming and your toes pushed his boxers down before he got the hint.

“Already ready for more?” He teased, popping his swollen lips off of your hot nipples. You nodded while biting your lip. You watched as he maneuvered out of his wet boxers.

“Like I said, I wanted you inside of me, you interrupted that part earlier.” You teased right back. He was quick to shut it then. You grinned and grabbed his neck to pull your mouths together. He responded well, positioning himself simultaneously. “Please.” You pleaded in between kisses. He finally granted your wish and inched inside of you.

“You really wanted me, huh? Let me right in.” His fingers held your jaw and looked directly at you while bucking his hips up inside of you. You inhaled sharply and nodded.

“Yes. Yes, please…” You slurred, getting lost in the way he felt inside of you. He rubbed against your walls deliciously and stretched you just enough to where it was beyond comfortable.

“Fucking beautiful.” His hands held your hips up at an angle, your ass no longer touching the bed. The thrusts sped up once more and you knew he was close.

“John, you gonna cum?” You purred, running your nails down his chest. He huffed out harshly at your action and you assumed it turned him on. You lightly dug your nails into his skin to which he spoke.

“Yes! I’m gonna cum.” He lowered his head down to your foreheads were touching. “Cum with me, baby.” But that’s all you needed. His command worked on you and he followed you shortly after.

[enigma-im]

A Kiss To Build a Dream On

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Monster Boss x F!Worker Warnings: Blood mention, Violence, fluff, confusion of intention, gang boss, ladies go crazy for a sharp dressed man, cursing, sex, teleporting to avoid explaining

word Count: 7885

Tender isn’t a word anyone would use to describe the boss, but for her he can’t be anything but.

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

I roughly slam the door, grumbling to myself as I stomp towards the backrooms of the office. My fists stay firmly clenched at my sides as fire burns from within my chest. The bruises ache along my face, my cheek and eye throbbing with every beat of my heart. I shoulder check workers at I storm to my bunk at the end of the hall, not even bothering to deal with anyone's teasing today.

The door is in sight, the sweet relief of solitude isn’t enough to stifle the anger. Knowing I'm going in there to lick my wounds like some child or weakling. When I reach the peaceful silence of my own room I begin angrily wrestling off my clothes, tossing the lightly blood-splattered garments to the corner. Grabbing some clothes off the floor I march into the bathroom. Throwing on some baggy pants and a tank top, I look in the mirror.

For the first time this day, my anger steps aside. The sight of my swelling eye and split cheek is shocking. I've been hit before, it's not really new, but it's never been so startling. My cheek wound has bled enough to dribble down to my collar. The line of blood ends where my shirt was, no doubt the clothing is sporting a lovely red spot. I guess that's what happens when someone plays cheap with a jewelry covered punch. The rage boils once more till I spit in the sink.

I can't bring myself to look any longer. Rushing out into the main room I grumble once more. A tantrum in the making, I throw my fists around, I bare my teeth towards the floor, I kick at anything decorating the ground. Clothes get pushed around the room, thunking against the wall. A suitcase gets launched under the bed and a wall is hit for good measures.

As I seethe to myself I catch movement out the corner of my eye. I go stalk still, turning slowly to the poor soul who decided it would be a good time to check-in. A well dress man is inspecting a wrecked shirt, the same shirt I wore minutes before. He admires the bloodstain near the neckline, thumbing the spot with a lax face.

"Sir," I play my best pleasant voice," now is not a good time." it all comes out terse and strained but it's the best I can do. Boss hums, still looking at my shirt. It takes a few seconds before he bothers looking my way. His dark complexation almost shadows the flex of his brow when he catches sight of my beaten self. His quickly flexing jaw is just barely noticeable in the darkness of the corner.

"So it would seem," he answers smoothly. He tosses the shirt to the side without care, adjusting his hat before he steps further into the room. His intrusion is unwelcome, to say the least, and him stepping closer boils my blood even more.

"Sir," I growl," It's really not a good time." typical boss continues to ignore me, succeeding like he always does when we talk in making me grind my teeth to dust. He hums in answer again, walking till he is a few feet in front of me. His hands are clasped behind his back, his brow low as he regards me.

"I will ask this once," he starts," what happened?"

I sneer, immediately answering," Nothing, everything is fine." he responds with a tilt of his head, watching me with an almost amused look. We stare each other down, stubbornness helping me with this battle. The boss has a tendency in sticking his nose in other people's business. Which is fine for everyone else, a good trait to have a boss who takes care of his people, but it’s not fine for me. I don't want his constant attention, sticking around to rub my nose in it. He never has to say anything, his judging look is enough to knock me down a peg.

As I stew in my thoughts he reaches out and grabs my jaw. His fingers dig into my skin, demanding absolute cooperation. I know better than to move, stiffening as I fight the urge to jerk away from his scrutiny. He leans down close, looking over the cuts, tilting my head this way and that.

"Rings or knuckles," he asks casually.

My jaw pops," Rings."

He hums," Howley boys or street wolves?"

I scoff," pixie chicks." he nods, dropping my jaw in favor of using his phone. The device appears in a blink, acting like it was always there. He clicks away at the phone lazily for a short moment before poofing it away as quickly as it appeared. Without a word, he grabs my shoulder and walks me into the bathroom. Too curious, I let him guide me to sit on the toilet. I sit and watch him work near the sink, opening the medicine cabinet.

"What are you doing," I ask, tilting forward to get a better look. Before I can get a look around the mirror he shuts it.

"You have no bandages," he scoffs. The tone sounds scolding like I'm some child being talked down by a parent. I quickly catch on to what's happening, I don't much care for it.

I stand," no, get out. I'd like to be alone now to tend to my ego and I don't need you here to yell about how dumb I am." before I could walk around him towards the beds he grabs me once more and twists me back to the bathroom.

"No, sit," he shoves me towards the toilet," I am tending to you now." my anger rolls in again like the second coming of a storm. I don't need his pity or favor, I can take care of myself.

"What does it matter? It's not like you care," I pout, stewing in rumbling fury. I don't bother to stand again, knowing his great power that rivals many. He is a supervillain in his own right, a blight on society but a hero to some. I can't see him as a bad person but I know the lengths he has gone to to be where he is. You gotta crack a few eggs, you know?

I don't notice him staring down at me, too busy glaring at the wall to notice. It's not till he grabs my jaw again do I bother to pay him any mind. When our eyes meet I am startled by his depth. His face demands attention at this moment, locking me in his stare. My feelings dissipate till only alarm is left. Reprimand feels like my likely outcome. No one talks to the boss this way. He is known for his kindness as well as his ire and ire is the side I'm most likely to meet.

The boss watches me, his eyes darting between my own as his jaw clicks. I can't lie and say I'm not worried at this moment, because I am. You never know what little things will set someone off, just like I don't know what level of pain I will be receiving. Perhaps a good talking to about respect, he likes to go on and on about that. Maybe an addition to my weekly chores, that's a fair punishment. I can't think straight with his breath ghosting over my face.

It's when I'm at my wit's end does he move, pulling my face towards his. He gently presses his lips to mine, closing his eyes as he does. I stare blankly at him, stock still under his soft lips. He doesn't pry for more, leaning back shortly after in favor of looking at me. I still look straight, startled by the outcome I could have never expected. He chuckles, smiling as he shakes his head. At the cute sound, I look to him, trying my best to gauge the situation better.

"wha-," he shuts my mouth before I can ask.

"You are to remain silent while I tend to you," he states firmly. I simply nod, still too shocked to really have the energy to do anything but listen. He watches me a moment more before standing and fiddling with the sink.

The boss does as he says, tending to my wounds like a close friend. He is delicate in his touches, warning me before any intentional pain. It's weird, no other way to say it. I have no idea what's happening besides the obvious. He is cleaning up my busted face, but I don't know why.

Once he is satisfied with his chore he straightens up and walks me out of the bathroom. I stop in the middle of the room, looking up to him for guidance. He quirks a brow, just barely smiling to himself.

"If I knew a silly little kiss would stifle your anger I would have done it sooner," he chuckles. I fluster at the comment, looking away for the first time since the kiss. As I chew on my cheek, trying to sort through the tangle of thoughts and feelings, he turns me towards him. His hold is sweet, gentle, unlike before. He pets at my cheek, lightly grazing the cut with his thumb. Before I can react he is gone.

I stare dumbfounded into the room, confused above anything else. I try to sort through the event, trying to find the angle he is working. So many things go through my head till absolutely nothing makes sense.

Though one thing is for sure. This warm feeling in my chest won't go away.

The boss doesn't act differently when I see him around the facility. He is his prim and proper self, still bullying the underlings into working to their best and intimidating visitors. Though its been mere days, I feel like more is to be expected. With every passing minute, hour, day, I expect something to happen. As time goes on the feeling grows till every sighting of him makes me tense with expectation. Was this his plan? To make me tense at every turn till I'm forced to confront him less I go crazy? Or was it to keep me on my toes, perhaps I've been too lax around here and he knows the best way to keep me stressed.

Either way, it's working.

I work the cameras one night, lounging in an old rickety chair as I watch the cameras around the building. This chore is the simplest but the most tedious. No one wants watcher duty, it's an all-night endeavor. Nothing happens and god forbid you get caught slacking off when higher-ups walk by. The punishments are easily dished out around here. So staying alert and awake is for the best.

As the night goes on I can feel myself falling off, drifting in and out of rest. It gets so bad that I fall asleep dreaming I'm still working. I try to pinch myself awake, walk around a bit, but nothing works. I damn near fall off my seat when a loud clinking noise wakes me. As I startle the seat tries to roll too far back but is stopped by a sturdy hand. I snap my head up and around, disoriented above anything else. Looking to my right my eyes immediately meet all too familiar ones.

"I wasn't sleeping," I quickly shout at the boss," I was watching the cameras." I stare wide-eyed at him, hearting pumping quickly from the startling wake-up.

The boss snorts," I'm sure you were."

"yes, I was," I clear my throat," what are you doing down here?" he watches me a moment longer, his arm still clasping the back of my chair. With an amused huff, he grabs something off the table, hiding it in his fist. He holds it over my lap, waiting on me. I reach out, curious, palm awaiting.

"a gift," he answers as he drops shiny pieces into my hand. Three rings lay in my palm, all gold with obnoxiously large gems in the middle. I look at them confused, lifting one to investigate.

"what are," I look up towards the boss, the words dying off my lip. He is gone. Looking around the room for another second before I look down at the rings. The single one I'm holding looks well worn, some of the metal corroding away. The gem is annoyingly bright green with dirty specks. On closer look, I can see dried blood in the corners and grooves. The ring actually looks familiar, looking at it makes my cheek ache.

What is the boss doing with the pixie chick's ring?

I want to corner him, question his intentions with bringing the 'gifts'. It's unheard of for the boss to take souvenirs, he isn't a bragging kind of man. It's also strange for him to bring them to someone as a present. The message is clear, he hurt them for me. A man like him doesn't just give out something like this without earning it to begin with. He got those rings not with theft but other illegal means. I understand that much, what I don't get is why.

I try to hunt him down but he is always around the corner before I can get to him. Each time I swear I can see a little smile, teasing me with this weird little game of chase. Every night I go to bed without answers is like losing a battle I never wanted to have.

It's one night that the unanswered questions pick at me till my last strand of patience is frayed. I storm out of bed, throwing on a hoodie before I enter the public spaces of the compound. This late I have a guess where the boss is residing, well two guesses.

I try his quarters first, knocking first as I don't have a death wish. With no answer, I don't try to push my luck and head to his office. When I round the private hallway I see the light on, coming out from under the farthest door. I pull some last-second courage and storm down. I grab the handle and with a last confident breath, I open.

The scene before me freezes as all details sort in my brain. Two people in the room, one is obvious, the boss. The other is a worn man, bruised and beaten in a chair. I can't look away from the man as a strange fog covers his neck. A nasty gash in the center of the fog's attention, seeming to pour into the wound. The gash looks to be pulled in every direction, blood drenching the man's shirt. I know if his mouth wasn't gagged he would be screaming loud enough for the entire building to hear.

"What do you need," The boss steals my attention. I look from the tied-up man to the annoyance of the week. He doesn't look angry like I would assume, having heard horrid tales of others falling into this same mistake. I don't trust the casualness of him cleaning his hands with a dirty towel.

"Sorry, sir," I bow my head," I will meet with you when you aren't entertaining company." I offer the joke in hopes of lessening the ire he may release later. The boss snorts with a smile, shaking his head as he tosses the towel aside. Not waiting for an answer I slide back into the hall, closing the door quietly behind me.

Well, that went well enough.

In the morning I force myself to submit to this strangeness that has corrupted the boss and I's interactions. I've known of the man since I was in my mid-teens, I've worked for him since my early 20s. There is no way I truly know how the man acts in his day to day life. I know he is an ornery kind of man, though a little mischievous, and that’s the most I know of him. Perhaps this is normal. It's best not to harp on these things that are out of my control.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to ignore his presence in any room I enter. The cat and mouse game seems to have switched with me running from him. I feel like a coward, though it is a reasonable choice to just drop it. I never run from anyone, least of all some cocky villain type.

I go about my nightly routine in the bathroom, spitting into the sink before suckling water from my palm. Walking into the main room I pause looking at the well-dressed man in my room.

"Evening, sir," I say confused. At my introduction, he turns, keeping his arms clasped behind his back. He regards me with a small smirk, mostly keeping his feelings to himself.

"You wished to speak with me," he shrugs," here I am."

I nod," yea, it's not too important now, I sorted it out myself." it’s a lie, I have nothing figured out. His instances of manipulation have named him as conniving. I don't want to be the centerpiece in such affairs.

"hm," he clicks his tongue," shame. Leaving me so curious now, how could I depart with such a tempting question resting on the edge of my mind." his smirk forms into a Cheshire grin that brings thoughts into focus. It seems I've already captured his attention, perhaps have had it all along.

"No, no, it's not anything you would need to bother with," I try to wave him off. He doesn't budge, instead, taking a few steps closer. I step equally back. He huffs in amusement, pushing onward till I'm forced to stop against a bed. He crowds me, yet keeping a platonic distance.

"I'm insulted you assume that any of your worries would be below my standings, I wish to make your life easier whenever I can," he purrs, breaking the platonic distance," Did you like your gift?" my body tenses in alarm, feelings waring as I try to remain passive.

"T-the rings," I ask.

He nods," I don't think the Pixie Chicks will be missing them, they offered them so freely." I wish to scoff at him, nearly amused at his suggestion that they would offer him anything such as their jewelry.

"They didn't seem willing to part with them before," I somehow manage to tease back. His smile grows, tilting his head as he regards me.

"Not at first," he leans toward my cheek," but after a short visit they were more than willing."

I get fuzzy the closer he gets, feeling his hot breath brush over my face. It's hard to decide the right course of action. Push him away and deal with whatever reaction he deems appropriate, or let him be and see where this is going. The second choice is hard, his nearness muddles my ideas and actions. How could I be swayed by some man nearing my personal space? His kiss beforehand was quick and unintimidating, there was no build-up. Now it feels like an anvil swaying precariously on a snapping rope.

"Why are you here," I find myself asking. I fight the urge to raise my hand to his chest and push him away, not truly knowing if I would push him away. He leans in closer, crowding me nearly on the bed. I fall back onto a hand, holding myself propped up less I wish to lay on the sheets. His grin stretches wider.

"Well, you asked for me," he answers in a deep rumble. The change in tone is startling, fogging my brain more. It's hard to think, nothing is connecting in my brain. I want to push him, but I can't. I want to crawl away, but I can't. I want to pull him closer, but…

"I mean," I swallow," what are you doing in my room?"

"because you feel safest here," he answers.

"Why should it matter if I feel safe," I watch him. He straightens slightly, looking down at me with a lax stare.

"You ask too many questions," he mumbles before pushing forward and kissing me. I gasp, falling back onto both hands. The kiss breaks for just a moment before he is falling onto his hands, framing me as he crowds me on the bed. I'm not sure what to do now, having little to no experience in this. I'm not flirty or sexy, I can't bother with things such as making out or relationships. Though now I wish I knew just a little bit.

The boss grabs me by the hips and shifts me up the bed, crawling over me as I fall to my back. He straddles a thigh, his hands coming up to frame my head. I watch him stare down at me, his mouth lightly parts with a dazed look. Before I can bother with words he takes my lips for his once more. It's surprisingly passionate, to that I'm stunned. I expected demanding from a man like him, not affectionate. I timidly return the kiss, not knowing what to do but knowing I want to do it. Before I can get into it he lifts away, though not far.

He watches me a moment, gauging my reaction. His eyes are squinted, seeming to wait for a response, a response I don't provide. I look up at him, nearly panting in this strange rush of emotions and touch.

"What are you feeling," he asks skeptically.

I lick my lips," flustered." he hums, still trying to piece together something.

"flustered is good," he nods to himself, falling back to my mouth. I startle once more, still utterly confused at the turn of the night. Yet, I can't make myself stop it. I reach up and fist his tailored jacket, not knowing if I should tug him closer. The need to touch him is strong but the anxiety of everything else lingers.

The boss stuns me more as he grabs my hand holding his clothes and slings it around his shoulder. Quickly I take hold of the shirt from this angle, indirectly pulling him closer. My other hand shyly joins the first, cupping the back of his head in a timid touch.

"Doing good," he purrs, licking at my lips as he slowly settles himself on his forearms. He expertly parts my lips, telling me to let him in. I open, clenching a fistful of hair when he invades my mouth. When I tug on the bit of hair he moans, the sound felt in my mouth, felt on my tongue. The already eager kiss ramps in excitement when his hands start to trail down my body. He simply slides his hands under my shirt, holding my waist with a warm grip. His thumbs pet at my skin but stay otherwise still.

The moment seems to stretch on for hours, my discretions melting away into heart fluttering enjoyment. He doesn't push, keeping the mood just semi-erotic. I appreciate it though I'm utterly confused. What does he think he can gain from this? Surely a man like him doesn't just kiss random staff members without having some secret motive. I'm just a grunt, nothing more and nothing less. I surely hope he doesn't think he could manipulate me into sleeping with him. No, that won't do at all.

"Sir," I mumble against his lips as I try to pull away. He trails after my mouth, only pausing mid-action.

"yes," he asks. I shift back away from him, getting a better look at his closed eyes and wet parted lips.

"We should stop," I fluster. I drop my arms from around him, using them to push myself up and away. He squints his eyes open enough to watch me lounge against the wall, feet still partially under him. Looking between my eyes he sighs, dropping his head shortly after.

"Alright," he huffs," It is late, I will be on my way now." he shifts back onto his knees, rubbing at his face before righting his hat and clothes. Next, he stands up off the bed and passes me a final glance, ready to blink away.

"wait," I surprise myself by saying," can you answer one question?"

He tilts his head," besides that question?"

"yes," I deadpan," besides that one."

He smirks, clasping his hands behind his back," alright, I think I can allow one more question." I want to snort, amused but annoyed by his words. I keep quiet.

"are you," I start, worried to continue," are you going to use me?" I look at every twitch of his face with an eagle-like focus. Every nuance is jotted down as I watch him. He simply smiles, his face projecting amused affection. He then steps forward, leaning over the bed to cup my face.

"No," he answers shortly. He strokes my cheek with his thumb, watching himself do so. With a final sigh, he blinks away, no evidence of him ever being here besides my wet lips and fluttering heart.

"damn," I fall to my side," there goes my night."

The next couple of days are a whirlwind of strange. The game of chase is completely let go in favor of a game of chicken. His attentions have gone from nothing to constant. When we are ever around each other -which is way more common as of late- he attempts to touch me in some way. Though his posture and face stay casual, if not bored, he still cups my hips and trails his fingers over my spine like he is anything but bored.

Some nights he pays a visit, kissing me senseless till he decides I'm thoroughly flustered. He tries to edge me on, even taking to teasing to further some agenda I can't even bother to figure out. Though he said he wouldn't use me I feel like a toy. He comes to me with minimal conversation and shoves his tongue down my throat. The small conversations are filled with double meanings and unsaid words. He is hinting to something and I can't figure out what. I feel like a source of entertainment, picked at till he gains whatever he needed. The stress is getting to me, I've had enough.

I wait patiently in my room, leg bouncing against the bed as I cross my arms. I'm going to confront him tonight, I'm going to get some answers. This little game has to stop less I want my heart to fall victim to some scheming. Time draws on and on till its far pass the time he visits. I reluctantly settle into bed, dread, and stress muddling my brain.

The next night I wait patiently again, knowing he doesn't go for two nights in a row. I wait and wait, looking to the clock more than necessary. It’s when its well past midnight that I call it a night. Dread and stress fade out as worry takes its place.

The day after I set out to catch sight of the boss. I search high and low, keeping to the commons places in hopes of a casual encounter. I see no hide or hair of him. As I march around the facility, doing chores, that I hear about everyone avoiding the boss. It seems the man in charge has had a bit of a temper since this morning, shutting out everyone as he sits in his office.

The idea of visiting his office is appealing, knowing it to be the best time to get answers if he is mad. Anger brings out the truth. Surely I can go visit him and ask a question or two, not risking my life in the process. Though I think lowly of his intention I think he truly has no intention of maiming me.

With that decided I casually head upstairs towards his office. I make it to the familiar hallway, feeling the instinctual dread of being there. No one wants to be in this hallway, knowing who is working just at the end. Though I come here from my own free volition it's still a habit to fear this part of the building.

I walk to the door at the end, already hearing voices halfway down. As I get closer I can hear yelling. I listen intently, hearing stomping footsteps and a thing or two being knocked over. It’s when I hear a loud thud do I pick up the pace. I stop near the door, anxiety drenching my body as curiosity keeps me up. The sound of meaty thumps can be heard before a whimper.

"You are a piece of shit," a quick thunk follows," scum of the fucking earth, and that's something coming from me." I can hear the boss talking- more like yelling- behind the door. It sounds like he is entertaining again.

"boss," someone answers weakly," I'm sorry." a deep clink comes shortly after the man's words.

"Sorry doesn't earn my trust back," the boss snarls," Sorry doesn't fucking get Bradshaw off my fucking back!" the meaty claps come shortly after, repeating in alarming frequency. I step to the door, my body repealing against the idea of opening it and interrupting the important meeting.

I know who the boss is, always have. He does some shady stuff with some shady people, I being one of them. I get what's going on in there, a lesson is being learned. It's something that is understood by all who work here, don't cross the boss. Though it seems the poor idiot in there hasn't learned that though.

I don’t hear anything for a good while. It's to be assumed that business has been taken care of. Either way, I stay put, leaning closer to the door when I hear another softer voice. I try to make out some words, being more nosy this moment than I have my entire life. The softer voice only speaks for a brief moment, followed by the Boss with another set of short words.

As I focus on the door I don't hear steps walking up behind me. Only when someone grabs my shoulders do I jump. I jerk in this person's hold, stiffening as their fingers dig into my skin. I twist to look over at them, seeing a large man with a gruff-looking face. He offers no words, instead, reaching in front of me to grab the door handle.

The gruff man guides me into the room, holding firmly onto my shoulders. I look to the room, immediately finding a man collapsed on the floor covered in swelling bruises and deep cuts. He is mostly unrecognizable, his face beaten to a pulp. If I am to assume correctly, then he is dead.

"Clean this up before he stains the floor," the boss grunts as he wipes his hands with a dirty rag.

The gruff man behind me speaks," and what would you like me to do with her?" as he asks the boss snaps around, meeting my eyes quickly. He looks to me confused, twisting completely around as he drops the rag to the table.

"I'd like you to fucking let her go," the boss growls to the man," I am the only one allowed to deal with her." the clear hostility means nothing to the man behind me. He lets go and casually shuffles to the man on the floor, hefting him over his shoulders with ease. I watch the boss look to the two, following them with his eyes till the door shuts behind me. Once the door clicks does he look to me once again.

"Hello, doll," his ire drops to the familiar ease he adopts when around me. He leans back against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. His barely buttoned shirt wrinkles, his cuffed sleeves looking strange so far up his arms. I've never seen him so underdressed, though most would still consider his outfit formal.

"Hello," I answer guarded. I don't expect a warm welcome like this when I've been caught snooping.

"What brings you to my humble abode," he tilts his head with a small smile. It's strange to see such a night and day to his previous anger. He was screaming and beating a man into the floor. Now he is his typical charming self in a matter of seconds. I don't buy it.

"I haven't seen you in a couple days," I say, crossing my arms in the process. He gives me a once over, his smile peeling further over his cheeks.

"Miss me or something," he teases.

I scoff," or something." he chuckles, walking away from his desk to walk the room.

"Or something," he looks at the messy floor," what would that something be?" I follow him with my eyes as he skirts around me, keeping a distance. I don't bother turning around when he walks behind my back, taking the second to compose my thoughts and feelings. As of late, he has been popular in making my heart flutter like a caged bird.

"You haven't been around," I shrug," I was curious." he scoffs, seeming to understand my roundabout way of saying I've missed him. Which I guess is true, but I'd argue I want answers more than his company. Though both wouldn't be too bad.

He comes into my peripheral," I've been busy, I hope I haven't left you in need of anything in my absents."

"no," I turn away blushing," I haven't been…in need or anything. Just conflicted on some things." he hums, staying just in the corner of my eye. I can feel his eyes wandering over my body, trying to pick at every tick and twitch.

"would your confliction be related to the question you asked me the other night," he asks. I almost turn to him then, wanting to see his face, needing to see his reaction. I don't though, staring at his desk straight ahead.

"Perhaps," I answer. He huffs, his steps coming closer till I feel his heat against my back.

"do you think lowly of me," he says near my ear," do you believe I am truly a villain incapable of pure intent?"

"sometimes," I nearly whisper. I feel his sigh fan over my back. He steps closer, his front nearly touching me.

"Do you truly believe I would betray you," he asks. The question startles me, only for the reason that there is blood staining the floor beside us. "Would you betray me," he whispers against my ear. The threat feels looming as I look to the crime scene. Would I betray him if given the chance, the answer feels almost obvious.

"I don't," I huff," I don't think I could if I tried."

The boss hums approvingly, circling his arms around my hips to pull me flush to his front. His chin rests upon my shoulder, his head leaning against mine. The smell of his cologne is nearly suffocating in its intoxication. I awkwardly grab his arms, resting my hands on him.

"I don't think I could betray you if I tried," he answers similarly," you seem to have grown on me." I squeeze at his arm.

"Honestly," I ask skeptically," you truly mean me no harm, emotional or otherwise?" though he has answered this it still doesn't sit in my head, proof being demanded after every answer.

He turns and presses a shallow kiss to my neck," I could never hurt you, doll, I only wish to adore you." I turn to him, wishing above all else to believe him. He leans ever so close, his tempting kiss just in my reach.

"Prove it," I bait.

"gladly," he answers.

Quickly he has my lips captured, demanding more than ever before. His tongue takes no time delving into my mouth, circling my tongue in a sweet caress. I would have fallen if it weren't for his strong hold on my hips, instead, I keep myself propped up by him. When minimal thought comes back do I twist in his hold and tug him closer by his collar. I need his affection, crave it above all else. Thrusting my tongue into his mouth I take back some control I've lacked in these few days. He startles this time, groaning with a chuckle as I fist his hair.

"doll," he laughs into the kiss," I thought I was proving my affections here."

"then catch up," I tease, taking his mouth for mine once more. He growls, a sound I haven't really heard from him before, and lifts me. I yelp, holding tightly to his shoulders as my pelvis meets his lower stomach. His smile spread across his face as he squeezes my thighs.

"Sorry, doll, but I'm the boss here," he nips at my lips, lapping at them shortly after. His normally sweet kisses are oh so more divine now as fire is brought into the mix. My insides nearly throb with a need I've rarely ever felt before. I want him- oh god do I want him.

As we attack each other I hear a quick whoosh by my ears, my hair quickly flicking in the wind. I open my eyes enough to see out the corners that we aren't in the same room. I dislodge from him, looking around the bedroom we have teleported to.

"your room," I ask, having never been here before.

"Yes," he watches me," Is that a problem?"

I look to him with a cheeky smile," no." I continue where we left off, suckling his tongue. He walks us somewhere, the destination not particularly important in my mind. What feels more important is the insistent throbbing in my crotch. I find myself bucking into him, grinding myself into his firm stomach.

The boss rips his mouth from mine as I fall backward. I clench at his shirt, gasping when something springy shapes to my back. I drop my hands back, feeling soft sheets below me. I look up to him, quirking a brow. He shrugs, falling over me in a familiar position. Though this time he angles himself in a way I can finally feel his hardon poking me. I groan at the feeling, wanting to grab him right now.

Everything seemingly melds together, one moment I'm in his office, and next, I'm in his room. One second I have a shirt on and next, I'm laying in only my underwear. Him being left in only his hat and pants. The boss admires me for a second, the rush of erotic sensations nearly paused. His look is fierce, fire pouring from his gaze, but it still has room for affection and true admiration.

"so damn beautiful," he pets at my chest. He fondles my boob, thumbing my nipple with an all too excited gleam in his eye. "I could wreck you so easily," he ponders aloud. I reach up to his bare chest, running my fingers from his sternum down to his pants.

"I thought you wanted to adore me," I smirk, tugging him closer by his belt. He falls to his hands, cradling my head in his arms.

"Doll, I want to do everything to you," he purrs, attacking my neck with love bites. I hum, slowly flicking off his belt and reaching into his pants. He stiffens, grunting as I grab him.

"big words from a big man," I tease, stroking his cock.

He shutters," you don't know big yet, doll. Now be a good girl and let your boss go."

I let him go, slowly sliding my hand out of his pants," yes, sir."

The boss lets out a shaky breath, dropping his head to my shoulder for a moment. My nails glide over his stomach towards his chest and back down. I allow him a second, though that's all he needs.

He sits up, pushing off his pants but keeping his boxers. I admire the tent, feeling oh so powerful at the moment. I did that, I am the one who turned him on. That thought alone makes me feel ten feet tall.

I hardly notice when his hand trails up my thigh till he hooks a finger over my underwear. He tugs them down, grinning to himself as my mound is revealed. He tosses the clothing away without a care, quickly reaching out to thumb at my lips. The subtle soft feeling of his touch is nearly enough to make me groan in anticipation. I want him to touch me, I need him to touch me. He does as I silently plead, sliding a finger between my folds. He swipes up toward my clit, massaging so smoothly.

"So wet," he purrs," so wet for me." I don't bother with words as he delves his fingers lower, poking at my entrance with great amusement. I engulf his fingers as he pushes them in, slowly pumping them in and out with a curled retreat. My legs spread further apart on their own as I relish in the lazy strokes.

"Sir," I sigh. He looks up to me, his gaze is all too alluring. My teeth grind as I fight back the urge to buck towards him. God, I need him. His head tilts so slightly as he sighs, his fingers retreat shortly after. He crawls back above me, cleaning off his fingers with his tongue as he does.

"Why must you pull me in so easily," he asks as he discards his last remaining clothing," I want nothing more than to feast upon you but your hungry looks demand more." I reach up and cup his face then adjusting his hat that he kept upon his head. His cock pokes at my crotch, gently sliding at my lips as he lightly jerks his hips.

I pap his cheek," get over it, I've been hungry all week because of you."

He scoffs," all you had to do was ask."

"like I could get the chance to with your tongue down my throat at every turn," I answer. He laughs, looking down between us to grab at himself.

"I think you could have found a way to ask if you truly wanted to," he answers absently as he pushes his tip forward. I suck in a choked breath, tense against the sudden entry. The stretch of just his tip is already fulfilling to someone so starved this past month. He bucks shallowly forward, inching himself in slowly. He soon hilts, looking back up at me with a relieved face.

"I couldn't ask when I didn't know the true intentions," I mumble as my attention is solely drawn to his filling cock. My leg hikes over his hip, pulling him closer. He drops a hand to that thigh, bouncing his hips in slow short drives.

"Well," he kisses at my cheek," do you know my intention now?" I turn to him, meeting his eyes in such a vulnerable moment. Everything I feel is lain bare, the tenderness I feel towards him shining brightly. I cup his cheek, his short bucks ceasing.

"That really depends on after," I nearly whisper. He doesn't answer, instead, pressing a deep kiss to my lips. As he claims me his hips drawback before snapping forward in a breathtaking thrust. He starts a demanding pace, taking and giving in equal parts. His cock hits deep, stoking a fire that I felt was already an inferno. I fall away from his lips, whimpering against him as he plows into me. Our hips clap as the bed squeaks. I now know what it feels like to be on the other side of the wall, not to hear but to be part of the ruckus.

The boss forces pleasure from me with every buck of his hips. I whimper and grind into him, not being able to stay still as my insides crescendo. I barely notice how silent he is, me making enough noise for the both of us. He watches me steadily fall apart, in complete rapture at my noises. A hand sneaks between us, running through my curls before resting upon my engorged clit. I seethe at the gentle prod, crying out as he starts small circles. As I shout for him does he make a sound, a gentle gasp as his lips part.

I feel burned, hot, and demanding at this moment. My insides flutter with its oncoming orgasm. I yell and scream, reaching out to pull him closer as I have no better idea. I suddenly sit on the cusp of true pleasure, my body stiffening as just a breeze could push me over. I reach for him, pulling him in for a wet kiss. He allows it, briefly, pulling away as I fall.

The boss watches me, his face contorting in near pain. His hips stutter as my insides clench him tightly. I can barely keep focus enough to watch him as I arch and writhe below. My screams stutter out till I'm left silent, panting as he continues my orgasm with his unstoppable thrusts.

"Please," I beg. Begging for him to stop, begging for him to keep going. I somehow keep focus enough to watch him, watch him sigh and grunt till his hips slap to mine with one final buck. He drops his head to my shoulder, panting against my ear as he rolls his hips. I can feel his heat, feel his cum paint my insides. I am unable to do anything but hug him close and catch my breath

It takes longer than I thought possible to come back to myself. I'm still left panting under him, only able to listen to his own ragged breathing. I pet at his sweaty back, running the ends of my nails over his shoulder. We just hold one another, lost in the bliss.

"you steal my heart, doll," he mumbles in my hair," how could I ever part from you when you sing so beautifully for me?" I chuckle, not being able to form words just yet. The boss turns us on our sides, cradling me to his chest so tenderly. He pets at my hair, burying his nose against my temple. "I fear I have stronger feelings than first intended," he whispers," I will not leave you for more than a second at a time, my heart couldn't take more than that."

"do you always get this poetic after sex," I ask. He scoffs, reaching down to grab my thigh. He pulls my leg over his hip once more, petting up towards my ass. He gives me a quick slap, jiggling my rear as he does. I yelp, squeezing him when I do. He grunts, baring his teeth. He chuckles shortly after

"only for you, love," he answers," only for you."

I sigh, sliding my hand between us to pet at his chest. I want to give those words back, as I mean them just as truly as he does. The words sit on the end of my tongue, ready to be broadcasted to the world. It takes me a moment to gain courage, still resting securely in his arms.

"I love you," I barely get out. He holds me closer, nuzzling my head.

"I love you, too," he answers in kind. I try to fight off the smile spreading across my face but it's damn near impossible. I smile to myself and close my eyes.

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

my intention never go as planned. i was struggling to write and i saw a cute post on villain with a soft spot for his lover. so i write a small tid bit, the part where he tends to her wounds. IT WASN’T SUPPOSE TO BE 7K WORDS! like how? i stayed up till 2am writing this. i’m just a sap, through and through.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

[sbtlns]

Wings

Warnings: nsfw!!

A/N: first time writing smut! feedback is much appreciated (◠‿◠✿)

You found Casitel captivating from the moment Dean introduced you two. “Castiel, Y/N,” he gestured in the space between you. “Y/N, Castiel. He’s the one that pulled my ass up from hell, He’s an-” “An angel,” you cut him off,  in awe of Castiel’s wings. “Uh....yeah. I guess Bobby filled you in. Anyway...” he went on to talk about the details of the case but you were too distracted by the angel before you. His wings took your breath away; his long, black feathers were iridescent under the fluorescent lights of the motel. They were huge, with thousands of feathers overlapping each other, you had never seen anything like it. 

“Hello? Princess are you getting any of this?” Dean asked annoyed while snapping his fingers in front of your face. You tore your focus away from Castiel and quickly turned to look at Dean. “Y-yeah, salt and burn, milk run, got it,” you choked out. Dean gave you a weird look before continuing. Again, you tuned out his words as you came to stare at Castiel’s wings. You couldn’t help yourself from staring, you could barely keep yourself from reaching out to touch them. Cas seemed to notice you staring and cautiously folded his wings against his back, trying to gauge your response. You furrowed your brows at his movement, briefly looking up at him before turning back to Dean. 

From that point on, Castiel was more reserved when it came to stretching his wings around you. He knew the brothers couldn’t see them, Sam had almost sat on them on more than one occasion, and Dean was constantly throwing things to Sam with Castiel’s wings in the line of fire. Cas wasn’t sure if you could see them or not, but he couldn’t shake your reaction to him folding them out of your view. 

Sam and Dean had gone on a food run, leaving you and Castiel alone in the motel room. You were thumbing through a lore book, trying to get any useful information you could find, when you saw movement in your peripheral vision. You looked up to see Castiel roll his shoulders back and slowly stretch out his massive wings. You stared at them in awe, watching random feathers twitch as he continued to stretch. Castiel looked up to meet your eyes, tilting his head in confusion. He froze as the realization dawned on him. “Cas, t-they’re beautiful,” you whispered, eyes locked on his wings. His eyes widened at your words. “You....can see them?” he questioned slowly. You tore your eyes from his wings to look him in the eyes, brow furrowing. “Uh...yeah,” you laughed. You noticed his shocked expression and confusion overtook you. “Can’t everyone?” you questioned. He shook his head in response. You stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Finally, the sound of the door opening broke the silence and in walked Sam and Dean. Dean saw the startled looks on you two and furrowed his brows. “Uh, what did me and Sammy just walk into?” he asked gruffly. You shot a look at Castiel, who was wide eyed and speechless. 

You turned back to Dean and gave him a questioning look. “Can.....can you two see Castiel’s wings?” you asked hesitantly. The two brothers shot each other a confused look before turning back to you. “What are you talking about?” Dean asked gruffly. “Y/N,” Sam started as he took a few steps towards you. “Can you?” You looked between the brothers, then to Castiel. “Uh...uh y-yeah, I can,” you stuttered, looking down at the floor. The brothers looked at each other, not knowing how to approach the situation. Sam shot Castiel a hesitant glance, before asking, “for how long Y/N?” You bit your lip, still looking down, “since I met him.” Before the brothers could question Cas, the angel quickly stood up, muttered something about heaven needing him, and poofed out of the room. The room was silent for a good couple of minutes before Dean cleared his throat, saying, “Well, I think this calls for some beer.” 

A week later, you and the brothers needed Castiel’s help on a case. Dean prayed to him and he appeared, looking apprehensive. The brothers were explaining the details of the case to him when you walked in the room. Castiel’s eyes shot up to meet yours and he quickly folded in his wings. You furrowed your brows, walking towards him. “Cas,” you said, “please don’t hide them from me..they’re beautiful..” you trailed off, forgetting boundaries and reaching towards them. Your fingers had just brushed against a few feathers when you heard Castiel stifle a groan, trying to cover it by clearing his throat. “Y/N, he said in a strained voice. He quickly moved out of your reach. “Y/N to touch an angel’s wings is a very...intimate action,” he said gruffly. The brothers raised their eyebrows and shot each other a glance from the corners of their eyes. Your face turned beet red, immediately regretting it. “I-I didn’t know I’m s-sorry,” you barely managed to choke out. The silence in the room grew unbearable until Dean finally broke it. “Alright, well, uh, let’s go get the son of a bitch,” he said, grabbing his pistol from the table and walking out of the door.

~~

The hunt was rough, what you thought was three demons turned out to be over ten and the four of you got your asses handed to you. You all had just gotten back to the motel room when Dean announced his need to go drink away the ass-whooping the four of you had just received and pulled Sammy out the door with him, saying he needed a wingman. You and Castiel sat in silence for a few moments after the door closed behind them. You noticed Cas wince as he tried rolling his shoulders back. You remember seeing Cas get thrown across the warehouse and landing with his wings under him. 

“You alright?” you asked softly. He sighed before quietly responding, “it’s my wings.” You bit your lip, hating seeing your angel in pain. “Can I help?” you asked. He looked at you nervously, throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly before looking down at his fidgeting hands. “Cas,” you said softly, moving to sit next to him on the bed. “Let me help, please, you insist on healing me after every hunt, even if it’s just a scratch,” you put your hand on his thigh. “Please let me help you,” you said softly. He sighed before nodding his head and shrugging off his trench coat. You bit your lip as he removed his suit jacket, leaving him in just a white button up that fit snugly around his muscular arms. You felt your cheeks redden as his slender fingers began unbuttoning his shirt. Heat pooled in your core as he removed the button down, revealing his toned chest and stomach. You had never seen this much of Castiel and you had to force yourself to stop staring. Castiel shot you a hesitant glance before unfurling his wings. You gasped, taking in the beautiful sight. 

“There are some feathers that I can’t reach,” he started slowly. “I usually comb my fingers through and fix the ones that are twisted.” You nodded before getting up to stand between his legs. You reached out hesitantly, fingers barely grazing his feathers. He inhaled sharply and you ripped your hand away. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you I’m so sorry-” you panicked before he cut you off. “Y/N,” he said softly. “It did not hurt me, it....was enjoyable,” he looked up at you sheepishly. Your eyebrows shot up, “Oh,” was all you could muster. Feeling more confident, you reached for a few twisted feathers and gently set them back in place. You tried to ignore the way Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and let his lips part. You took a deep breath before continuing to comb through his feathers, enjoying how soft they felt against your fingers. You continued grooming his wings, eliciting soft moans from the angel. You desperately tried to ignore the growing damp spot in your panties and the soft ache in your core. You had no idea you could have this kind of effect on the angel and you were loving every second of it.

“Cas,” you said, pausing your motions. He looked up at you with a hunger in his eyes. You had never seen the angel this wrecked before. His face was red with small beads of sweat at his forehead and his breathing was shallow and uneven. You bit your lip, gathering the courage to continue. “There’s some tough to reach sections in the back. You don’t mind if I move closer, do you?” you asked in your best seductive voice. His head tilted slightly, eyebrows furrowing. “I do not mind, Y/N,” he replied in a low voice. You smiled as you moved to straddle the seated angel on the bed. His eyes shot open wide as your clothed pussy brushed against his hardened member. You gasped slightly at the sudden, but needed friction. “I apologize Y/N, I’m having a hard time controlling my vessel-” he gushed apologetically. You cut him off with a soft kiss Cas seemed taken back at first, but soon leaned into your touch, deepening the kiss. You slid your arms around him, taking fistfuls of the curls at the base of his neck. His hands found their way to your waist and he held you down firmly as the two of you continued to make out. 

You were in desperate need of some kind of friction, so you began to grind against his hardened member. He groaned at your movements, letting his head fall back. You continued to grind against him as you placed wet kisses to his exposed neck. You gently nipped at his pulse point, eliciting another moan from the angel. You began kissing lower on his neck, slipping off of his lap and onto your knees as you reached his chest. You placed a line of kisses down his chest and stomach before reaching his belt. You looked up at him innocently as you took his belt in your hands and quickly unbuckled it. You quickly undid his zipper, reaching into his boxers to free his cock.  “Y/N,” he said in a deeply strained voice. “It’s okay Cas, I’m gonna take care of you.” You smiled sweetly up at him before licking a broad stripe up his shaft.

He groaned, bucking his hips up to meet your tongue. You licked all over his head, cleaning the precum off of his slit. Castiel’s head fell back as he gripped the sheets tightly. Deciding he had enough teasing, you wrapped your lips around his tip and began bobbing your head up and down. “Y/N,” he groaned, hands flying to grip your hair. “That feels..” he moaned. You hollowed out your cheeks, taking more and more of him, before you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. “Y/N,” he strained, “something is....I..I can’t..” he sputtered. You pulled your mouth off of his cock just long enough to say, “it’s okay Castiel, let go,” before returning your lips to him. A few seconds later you felt his cock twitch again, this time shooting hot ropes of cum down your throat. You swallowed everything he gave you as he moaned your name over and over. After working him through the last wave of his orgasm, you pulled off of him with an audible ‘pop’ and looked up to see the panting angel with his eyes closed. He had barely recovered when you heard the key press into the lock of the motel room. With a snap of his fingers he was dressed and cleaned up, just in time for the door to swing open, Sam holding up a drunk Dean.

Castiel leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I’m not done with you, honeybee. I intend to return the favor,” his gruff voice sending goosebumps down your body. You felt something trailing up along your inner thigh, gasping as it found its way to your slick center. Your eyes shot up to meet his and he gave you an amused grin. 

“Why does it smell like sex in here??” a belligerent Dean demanded.

[quillsandtypos]

Our Stars Collided- Part 4 (1/2)

Summary: As the reader finds herself joining an on the rise ghost band, she quickly makes friends with the bassist. But how long can she keep herself away from the lead guitarist?

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: none except sexual tension

Pairings: luke x reader, mention of willex

I had too many word blocks so I had to split this in two in order to upload

...........................................

By Sunday morning you had mostly forgotten about your little prank war. So you did not expect to see someone in your living room that morning. “Reggie!” you screeched.

Reggie looked equally as surprised to see you and jumped back.

After you calmed down, you walked up to him, “What are you doing here?”

Reggie glanced around nervously. “What are you doing here?”

“Umm this is my house,” you reminded him. He was obviously up to something.

He pulled his hair back. “Right, yeah, I knew that, duh.” He rolled his eyes for good measure.

“So then what are you doing here?” you questioned. You watched as he strained to come up with some sort of response.

“Oh yeah, I came here to talk to you abouuuuuuut,” he trailed off as he looked into space.

You waved your hand at him for him to continue.

“Goddamnit I can’t do this,” he muttered.

“Luke are you almost done?” he called out.

It took you a moment to realize that you didn’t need to worry about your parents hearing his yell. But then it clicked that Luke was somewhere in your house.

Your eyes widened in fear. “What did you do Reggie?”

Luke popped in next to him. “Oh he just might have helped me out a little,” Luke said offhandedly. Though the smirk on his face told you that he was quite proud of whatever he had just done. You tried to make your fear invisible to them.

“Okay, let me rephrase this, what did you two do?” you crossed your arms and glared into Reggie’s eyes.

Luke moved closer to you to catch your eye and leaned against a chair. “Well let’s just say Reggie decided he would rather be on the winning team,” Luke taunted.

It finally clicked that your favorite bassist had betrayed you. “YOU, you are so dead Reginald,” you threatened. Despite the fact that he was already dead, he did look slightly afraid. You licked your upper lip smugly, in the satisfaction that he was somewhat affected.

Luke clicked his tongue, “I would be more worried about your room if I were you,” he warned. There was no doubt in your mind that he was enjoying this. You were torn between wanting to threaten your opponents and wanting to know what Luke had done.

“This isn’t over,” you grumbled. You raced back to your room, and nearly slipped on the flooring. You opened your door with a shove to find that everything was gone, nothing was there. Meaning legitimately nothing, those assholes had somehow gotten everything moved out of your room. It was completely bare, minus your bedframe and mattress. And you had fallen for Reggie’s distraction. You knew you would have to come up with something drastic to get them back for this, but you first needed to figure out where they had hidden the rest of your stuff.

You stood in your room as you tried to figure out what to do; until you remembered that the boys were still downstairs. But when you retraced your steps, you realized they were long gone. You sighed in frustration as you decided where you would need to look. Your first thought was Julie’s, it was most likely too easy, but she didn’t live more than ten minutes away. So you hopped in your car and drove over.

You arrived a short nine minutes later and knocked on the Molina house’s door. Julie opened it with a very puzzled look on her face. “Y/n what are you doing here?”

You held one of your hands in the other. “So this is gonna sound like a weird question, but have you seen any mysteriously appearing furniture?”

“No, should I have?” Julie questioned.

“Ugh, okay, I knew they wouldn’t put it here. Thanks any-” you stopped. Reggie was just behind Julie, wearing your favorite blanket as a cape. Julie looked confusedly at wear your gaze is, only to watch Reggie poof out.

“Reggie,” you growled under your breath.

You then brought your attention back to Julie who was giving you a cautious side eye.

“I swear there’s a reasoning behind this,” you promised.

“For something, as weird as this,” she pointed to you and where Reggie previously stood, “I would think so.”

“So you know how Reggie helped me take one of Luke’s shirts?” you started.

She still looked weirded out, but she nodded her head.

“Well, now Luke has somehow gotten Reggie to be on his side and the two of them took everything out of my room,” you grumpily explained.

Julie was still a little confused on what you meant. “Define everything.”

“Like the only thing still in my room is my mattress and bedframe, kind of everything,” you specified.

“Oh shit really?” she exclaimed. She quickly glanced around to make sure her brother wasn’t in ear shot.

You nodded your head.

“Do you have any idea where they put it?” she questioned.

“No, I was hoping you knew,” you wistfully admitted.

“I mean, have you checked the studio?”

“That seemed too easy.” You paced back and forth trying to think of where they could’ve possibly hidden your stuff. You heard another poof behind Julie and just as you were about to start your interrogation, you realized it was Alex.

“I’m guessing you’re here for your stuff,” he speculated.

“Yeah, do you know where it is?”

“I do,” he admitted.

You weren’t entirely sure where he was going with this, and his face gave no hints as to his motive either. “And are you going to tell me where it is?” you inquired.

His lips twitched upward in satisfaction. “They are back in your room.”

“Did you put them back there?” you confusedly asked.

He smiled before nodding.

Your eyes went wide, “Oh my god, thank you Alex, if you weren’t dead I would hug you!” you exclaimed.

“But now I kinda need to be on your team since I helped you.”

You grinned wickedly. Those two had no idea what was coming for them. “You’ve got a deal Mercer,” you agreed. You went to shake hands but you just went right through him, so you settled for shaking the air where you could see his hand.

“Guys, I hate to inte-” Julie was then cut off from a faint yell that you assumed to be either Reggie’s or Luke’s.

“Run?” you suggested.

“Run.” Alex agreed.

“Guys, what am I supposed to do?” Julie called out.

“Pretend you never saw us!” you yelled back.

She gave you a thumbs up before heading back inside her house. You quickly backed out of your driveway and quietly took off down the road. You breathed a sigh of relief as you turned the corner off of her road. When you got home you went straight to your bedroom to find that everything was back in its place.

You flopped down on your bed. It was only noon and you were exhausted. You decided to take a quick nap. You set your alarm for two pm and you quickly fell asleep.

When you woke up, you felt pretty groggy, but still better than you had before. You turned on your back and stretched. You couldn’t yet be bothered with getting up.

You couldn’t have been laying there for more than five seconds when you heard a poof in your room. You sighed internally, you didn’t have the energy to be pranked a second time in one day. You choose not to give him the satisfaction of looking over, and instead kept your eyes towards the ceiling.

“Luke what do you want?” you whined.

“Hey, why does it necessarily have to mean that I want something?” he pretended to be offended.

You slowly turned to look at him with an unamused look on your face.

“Okay, so maybe I do,” he admitted. You nearly broke your demeanor at his comment but you were determined, so you turned to look away from him so he wouldn’t see your smile.

He looked around the room. “I see you got your stuff back.”

“I’m willing to bet you already knew that,” you guessed.

“True, but I wasn’t expecting for you to be able to turn Alex against me,” he retorted. You couldn’t see him but you were certain you could feel the warmth of the fire in his eyes.

“How did you manage to do that?” he puzzled.

“I plead the fifth,” you responded.

Luke continued to try to coax an answer out of you, but he was getting nowhere. You just remained silent and continued to look at a wall.

“Come on y/n you’re gonna have to talk to me eventually,” he reasoned. He sat down on your bed as you continued to ignore him.

“Y/n,” he sang, as he kept tapping your side. You couldn’t actually feel it but you could see his hand accidentally going through you.

You couldn’t help the growing happiness bubbling up from your stomach. “I’m going to throw a pillow at your head,” you playfully threatened.

“See, I knew you were smiling,” he teased.

And swiftly turned around to throw a throw pillow at him. Of course you knew it wouldn’t hit him, it was more for dramatic effect.

But not long after, you heard a soft ‘thump’.

“Did it just-” you stopped in shock.

The pillow had hit him squarely in the face and he caught it in his arms.

Luke was equally as confused. “How did that happen?”

“I don’t know, I was expecting for the pillow to go right through you,” you babbled.

“That shouldn’t be possible, right?” he looked at you for assurance.

“Luke, I have no idea,” you admitted. The both of you just sat there for a minute in a silent bewilderment.

“Can I try something really quick?” he asked, his voice was a touch lower and harder to hear than usual.

You nodded, you weren’t certain where he was going with this, but for whatever reason; you trusted him. He reached over to one of your arms rested on your leg. Slowly he moved his hand to try to brush over your forearm. You could feel your heart beating in your chest and you held your breath. His fingers moved closer, you were now touching, but you couldn’t feel it. He just phased through you.

You felt your face fall and you quickly worked to make sure he didn’t notice. “It was worth a shot,” you added.

Luke looked up at you, he was not attempting to hide his disappointment. But it only took him a couple of seconds to recover, he looked like he had gotten an idea.

“Let me try something else real quick,” Luke trailed off.

You started to ask him what he meant by that, but you were rudely interrupted by a pillow going straight through you.

"Hey!" you yelled.

"I had to see if it was gonna work!" he loudly explained.

Laughing, you felt your mood start to lift, just by a little bit. “So what exactly did you want?” you asked.

“I don’t actually remember now,” Luke realized.

You felt the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, “Well I’m glad you came anyways.”

You were expecting for him to be smirking at you but instead he just smiled in that way that made you want to melt into the ground. “I’m glad I did too,” he agreed.

He got up from your bed to poof out, when you stopped him.

“Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“No more pranks when you’re in my room or involving my room. You come here almost everyday so it makes sense to have it as a peaceland,” you requested.

He charmingly winked at you. “Sure thing princess,” he agreed then poofed out.

You were really glad he left when he did so you could die from that nickname in peace.

-----------

When you woke up the next day you were a little surprised you hadn’t gotten any texts from Julie. But you figured you would catch up with her at school

“You,” she growled as soon as she spotted you heading to her locker.

You immediately put your hands up in surrender. “Woah, what did I do?” you asked.

“This,” she pointed to her outfit. It consisted of a jean jacket with paint on the back, a cropped sunset curve t-shirt, grey sweatpants, and white sneakers.

“What?” you puzzled, you genuinely had no idea what she was talking about. But she evidently believed that you should’ve known based off the look she was giving you.

“Because of you, I somehow got pulled into your prank war and they stole the rest of my shirts,” she finally explained to you.

“Well in that case their prank backfired because you still look stunning Jules.” You caught her eyes as you spoke and she smiled before narrowing her eyes at you.

“Do not try to compliment your way out of this!” she threatened.

You grinned and moved back from her accusatory finger. “I’m not, you genuinely look stunning. But if you want to threaten someone, I suggest it be the two who actually did it,” you argued. You grabbed your books and turned away to almost walk straight through Reggie.

Reggie threw his hands up in exaggeration. “Julie, this was supposed to be a prank, how do you still have a killer outfit?” he moaned.

You chuckled at his dramatics.

“Yeah, making the shirt look good should technically be against prank rules,” Luke agreed.

“Well Luke, it looks like you're technically losing.” You smirked.

“Not for long,” Luke scoffed under his breath, though it was obvious he wanted the three of you to hear him.

“Alright, point to the ladies, for this time at least,” Reggie trailed off ominously.

You threw your arm around Julie, “So does this mean you're officially on my team?” you asked.

“Yep, which means the two of you are officially going down,” she leaned into you and glared at the boys, as you smirked in satisfaction.

“That won't last long,” Luke boasted. He and Reggie poofed out, but not before you stuck your tongue out at Reggie.

Julie wrapped an arm around your waist. “So what’s our next play?”

“Well that is where Alex is going to help us,” you started to explain to her as you walked to class.

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

The two of you anxiously sat in Julie’s room, you hoped that Alex would be the only one to poof in. You both heard a knock on the door and knew it had to be him.

“I heard we were coming up with a plan?” Alex inquired.

“We are but we need your help with actually getting it to work,” you explained.

Alex plopped down on the bed next to the two of you, “I’m all ears.”

“Okay so y/n had the idea of scaring them since you know it’s not usually the ghosts who get scared,” Julie started.

“Right, so how are we gonna pull that off?” he questioned.

You turned to Alex. “Well that’s where you come in. When would they least be expecting us to show up?” you asked.

Alex looked off into the corner of the room for a moment before coming back to you. “Probably when you’re in school or in the middle of the night. Since you guys sleep we are usually mostly alone in the world at night,” Alex divulged. He said it so casually, like being alone was a part of their routines; which sadly, it was. You tried not to think too deeply about it for the moment, but made a mental note to ask him if he wanted to talk about it at some point.

Julie walked around the room as she talked. “So school is obviously not an option, but doing it at night time seems easy enough.”

“Except we need to make sure it’ll actually scare them,” you added.

Julie pointed at you as she added that to her mental list.

“Well what scares people who are already dead?” you wondered. You looked to Alex for answers.

“I mean I’m biased with fears since I’m anxious most of the time; so I might not be the best person or ghost to ask,” he regretfully admitted.

“That’s okay, just tell us whatever you’re thinking of,” you reassured him. He looked nervously in Julie’s direction, but when she softly nodded at him, his gaze turned back to you.

“Your best bet is to jump scare them, I mean we’re the ones who can poof places, so they wouldn’t be expecting for you to be able to scare them,” Alex suggested.

“Ooh I like that idea,” Julie excitedly agreed.

"I do too, oh also I might be able to throw something at them," you added without thinking.

Your two friends looked at you with very confused faces. You suddenly remembered that you hadn't told anyone about the incident the night before.

"OH, I threw something at Luke yesterday and it hit him," you explained.

Your friends' faces didn't change, they shared a look before turning back to you.

"What?" they exclaimed, almost in complete unison.

"Well Luke was giving me shit and so I jokingly went to throw a pillow at him but then it actually hit him," you elaborated.

"And you're just telling us this now?" Julie marveled. Alex deadpanned.

"Well you seemed pretty upset about the shirt thing," you started.

"Y/n! Do you know how crazy that is?" Julie intently asked.

“I do, but there’s one problem we still can’t touch. We tried,” the last part came out quieter than the rest.

“What?” Alex asked.

“We tried, I still couldn’t touch him, and he couldn’t throw something at me without it going through me,” you divulged.

Alex looked at you through curious eyes. “Do you have any idea why?”

You through your hands up in exasperation. “No, but I wish I did.”

Julie walked up to her desk and searched around for something. “Alex, here try to catch this,” she spoke as she showed him a notebook.

Alex readied himself in the event that he would actually be able to catch it. But the book just went through his hands.

“Huh, okay y/n you try throwing it to him,” Julie directed.

You backed away from the bed and shook your hands. You were nervous even though you knew you had no control over how this would turn out. You tossed it into the air, but once again, the notebook just hit the bed.

“Damn it,” Alex hissed under his breath.

Julie shrugged, “Well it was worth a shot.” She tried to sound nonchalant about it, but it was evident that she was upset about it too. You all sat in a somber silence until you piped up.

“Guys I think I have an idea on how we can set up this prank,” you thought aloud.

The mood suddenly shifted and all eyes were on you. They eagerly listened as you explained your plan.

Taglist: @sunsetcurvej