#fuck me up doc oc daddy

[kissditrio]

When DILFS collide.

PART 1.

3K WORDS

WARNING NSFW.

cw: Dirty talk, daddy kink?, mentions of “puppy” in sexual context (being called puppy), bondage, kinda sub Toji for a sec, desperation, mentions of bimbo, unprotected sex, begging.

First time writing here’s part 1 of full fic bc it got lots of love, tank u guys enjoy! 🦇

Miguel spent most of his time putting away anomalies. Most of them being villains spiderman or spidermen? Would commonly fight.

Doc Oc, Prowlers’ , even green goblins. Sometimes having to call for backup even if he really didn’t want to. Dragging them back to HQ and sending them home. It was somewhat easy, very tiring but nothing new.

But as he stared at the large man with a bulky frame maybe just a inch or two below him, he really thought he finally saw it all.

“You don’t belong here.” Miguel growled at the man.

Finally webbing his ankles together because, holy fuck could this guy move quick. He accepted his defeat. He gave a hearty chuckle and stuck out his lip towards Miguel.

“Not g’na take me to dinner now are ya?” He sneered. The scar on his lip turned upward into a crooked smile. Miguel scowled and opened a portal.

You had been working at the Spider HQ for just over 7 months. Miguel considered you one of the best amongst them. Not because you guys would fuck like catholic rabbits, but because you were an amazing spider. You were in Miguel’s “office” because you liked being in there, the control room everyone would walk in but his office was a little reserved and spacious so you could finally sit in silence. You shut your eyes as you leaned back into his wheeled chair with cushions so soft you wonder how Miguel hasn't been caught sleeping in here.

“HAHAHAHAAA-“ you jumped up.

Miguel’s office door swung open, and he was carrying an awfully large man who was laughing as if he was piss drunk.

“Spider society, you kids are really crazy about Halloween huh?” The man snorted.

Miguel dropped him down and made his way over to you and his desk.

“Move.” He tiredly demanded.

Understanding he’s just having a day you quietly move out of his way for him to sit and type away at his computer.

“Wow, kicking a lady out of her chair, no manners. Cant even be a fuckin’ man eh?” The man snapped out his laughing delirium.

You looked at this guy as he sat on the floor, he looked at you. Somewhat short hair that was black as could be, it stopped middle of his neck, on the taller side, tired eyes, and a noticeable scar on his lip. With a a devilishly mischievous smile.

“You want a fuckin’ photo or something?” He furrowed his brows, and spat on the floor.

You look away sheepishly and mutter an apology before walking back over to Miguel.

“Who’s he?” You ask sweetly.

“No fuckin’ manners, fuckin’ hell.” The man hisses.

“M’ right fuckin’ here ya know?” He grumbles.

“You’re worse than that ‘merc with a mouth’ please shut up.” Miguel sighs. The man rolls his eyes at him, and halts while doing so. You and Miguel could both see a lightbulb form in his head.

“My god is so sensitive tough guy.” He chuffed. He smiled and looked around “mm I wonder if it’s just as easy to make you yell as it is for me to get under your skin. Or maybe under the sui-“

Miguel webs his mouth shut, and sighs heavily. Rolling his shoulders as he rubbed his face.

“I don’t know.” He frowned. “Found him, got another problem to add into to the list of the multiverse almost-“

“Almost collapsing I know.” You rub his tense frame.

“Take a breather Miggie, you’re not going through a storm with a cloud overhead.” He sighed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Ay, I know.” He rolls his eyes and moves slowly towards the door.

“I’m gonna go ask a few spiders for their opinion, and about where he’s from. Watch him and do not let him go.” He warns a finger at you.

You nodded enthusiastically and even did a silly little “attention” posture. Making him smile, oh how you loved his tired smile. He shut the door. You walked over to the man again and leaned down.

“Here sorry about him shushing you, but I’ll get this off since I know it’s probably really uncomfortable.” You say with a smile. You avoid making direct eye contact not to be rude but because fuck. He’s really hot.

You peel off Miguel’s web carefully so as to not add another scar on his face.

“There we go.” You smile hard under your mask.

“My name is y/n.” You gave a small wave.

The man looked at you for a bit.

“Toji.”

“Toji?”

“That would be it, yes.” He gruffed.

“Nice to meet you To-“

“Could you make it less obvious about you fucking your baby daddy tho? Fuckin’ A’ practically garglin’ his balls infront of my fuckin’ face.” He spat.

Your heart thumped really loud at the vulgar words.

“I- we- I just-“

“aht aht, don’t get all shy now, miss spider." he smiled as he tried to reach towards you but ah, his hands also tied.

Mmmm. He sighed.

“Wanna let me out of these baby? I promise I’ll behave.” He gave a fake doe eye look.

“No, Spider-2099-“

“Miguel?” He scoffs.

You swallowed.

“Yes Miguel, said I can’t let you go because-“

“Is he your daddy or something?” He chuckles. Your face is so hot had you not been wearing your mask he would’ve laughed harder.

You turned around and stomped towards Miguel’s chair and sat. Angrily turning it around.

“Aww puppy don’t be so mean. I’m just having as much fun as a tied up man can.” He whined.

You ignored. He gave a heavy ass sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Some shit daddy you got, if I was fucking you, you wouldn’t be this goddamn shy bout sex. I’d have you trained.” He smiled, eyeing you for a reaction.

You turned the chair back around and squinted your eyes. Which he could see.

“I’m not your little fuck toy, Toji.” You spoke through gritted teeth. God forbid you bit down any harder they would’ve cracked.

“Mmm baby don’t say that, g’na hurt my feelings. G’na make me cry, wanna make me cry?” He faux whines.

“YES!” You shouted.

Wow both you and Miguel have such a short fuse. Maybe that’s why you guys work. Here he thought you’d be a sweetheart. Well you were but he likes bringing out the worst in people.

He’s got you right where he wants you. He laughs at you.

“You gonna come and shut me up? Web my mouth closed?” He starts smiling with teeth.

“I just might if you don’t shut the fuck up.” You started to huff.

“Such a naughty little thing, bratty too.” He groaned and stifled out a moan. You were marching towards him each step heavier and angrier than the last.

“If you even think-“ you pointed a finger before you looked down. He was sitting so you could see him squirming but you also saw… a bulge. It was big. And painfully obvious. Now you shouldn’t be so thrown off right now, you’re trying to set a point.

“Mmm have I finally got your attention like you do mine?” He asks. You open your mouth and can’t seem to form a sentence or stop staring at it. It was throbbing in his loosely fitting pants. And you could see every bit of it.

“My god so fucking cock hungry eh?” He smiles. “Never seen a real cock before mmm?” He scoots closer to you. Your eyes stay trained on it, why can’t you look away?? It’s not like you’re new, you’ve seen Miguel’s and he was more than enough. So why are you aroused?? You suck in your bottom lip and grab a breath as Toji leans his face closer to you.

Toji smiles up at you, and lays his head against your thigh while you stand.

“Cmonnn baby.” He plants a kiss on the inner part of your thigh.

“Untie me. I gotta fuck you. You see how badly I want to no? I can’t fake that.” He moans into your suit.

You tap your foot and chew your lip anxiously. You look at the wall clock then at the room's door.

“Just… one little.” You hold up a finger.

“Mhm yeah- fuck just one little quickie puppy. You can tie me back up after.” he’s kissing your clothed thigh. You curse yourself. You should not be this aroused, let alone be giving into fucking. However you and Miguel hadn’t done it in a while because you’re both so busy, and too tired when you really do want too, sooooo you swallow your pride; sigh and remove the strings attaching his hands and ankles together.

“O-okay” you said shakely. “Now listen I can still we-“

He grabs you by your wrists and slams you into the desk, moaning into your neck and rubbing his clothed erection against your cunt.

Holy fuck he’s quick. You yelp a bit before he wraps a hand around your neck, you try pushing him off, which he just takes this time to tear your mask off.

Oh that’s a no no.

You’re already fucking a villian and you let him see you? Fuck Miguel is gonna be so upset.

“Such a pretty face.” Staring at you with hungry eyes.

“Take this fuckin suit off fa’ me.” He moans into your ear. He steps back giving you the room, you obediently push yourself up and reach for the smaller lining in the back, peeling your suit off. Toji eyed your every move your body made, groaning softly when your boobs spilled out in your tight ass laced bra, your hips too. But your fuckin waist oh he could grip it and fuck you day in and out. Now only standing in your undergarments he smiled wide.

“Fuck me.” He stared at you making you shy, face heated. He was palming himself while eye fucking you like you weren’t standing in front of him, truly a shameless man. He walked over to the other side of the desk and sat in the chair and tapped his hand against the desk for you to sit as well.

“We have to hurry.” you whisper afraid of someone hearing you.

“Hmmm” he paused before your clothed cunt. He spread your legs, eyeing your pussy through the black fabric that was covering it. Leaning in and taking a deep inhale.

Fucking pervert.

You moaned softly which made the hair on his neck stand up, he rolled his eyes into the back of his head before putting his mouth over your whole heat, my god he made you feel little. He moaned against your panties and flicked his tongue around, inhaling and exhaling just as deep as he touched himself. He pulls back and uses one finger to peel your panties off.

“Wow.” He gives a wolf smile. Staring drunk at your bare cunt. You go to shut your legs in embarrassment, which makes him smack the fat of your thigh and pry them back open.

He gets close again, sticking his tongue out before licking one stride down from your clit to your slit, making you choke out a moan.

“Hurry up!” You demand.

He keeps his tongue barely moving over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He scowls at you.

God dammit I can’t believe myself.

“F-fuck, please mister, please touch me.” You whimper out. He smiles and obliges. He rolls out the fatter bit of his tongue against your clit moaning every so often to keep it stimulated, one of his fingers goes towards your hole slipping in pretty easily as embarrassing as you care to admit. He rolls his tongue over the nerve over and over again, not letting up, causing a stream of gentle moans to come out of you, you tangle your fingers in the raven-hair and roll your hips. He dug his other hand into the fat of your hips and pumped up to two fingers. He begins sucking on your clit violently and you begin to squirm. You thrash around a bit moaning louder than you imagined.

“Fuck fuck fuck!!” You gasped out, rolling your hips more, feeling this little knot feeling build in your tummy. You pressed your pussy impossibly closer to his face which he indulged. Moaning as he pumped his fingers in and out and he began to curl them up towards that little soft spot of yours.

It made your toes curl, and you formed an “o” shape with your mouth as your legs began to shake. Your orgasm was literally gonna crash into you.

“I’m gonna- oh fuck- I’m gonna cum Toji.” You whined eagerly.

“Ple-please lemme cum on your tongue Toji, I wanna make a mess.” You babbled, brain already fogging which made him laugh, he stopped sucking and slapped your pussy ramming his fingers in and out of you, before sucking on the bud again. He moaned cheekyly, encouraging you to go over the edge. The knot finally snapped, making you almost scream and your thighs clamp around his head and legs shook into a halt. You laid there in ecstasy. Sighing trying to pull yourself together.

Toji flipped you onto your stomach and pulled your bra off, going back to attack your clit. You squirmed and tried pushing him off which clearly upset him since he landed a hard slap on your ass.

“I didn’t fuckin’ say to move you little bimbo, keep the fuck still or I won’t fuck ya.” He warned through his teeth. He licked at your puffy pussy again before bringing his cock out, giving it long strokes throwing his head back. You whined.

You peeked behind you. It was definitely big, between him and Miguel you weren’t sure but his balls looked so heavy. So full. It made you clench around nothing.

He moaned and pushed his tip at your entrance. Collecting your juices on his cock as he pumped himself slowly groaning with each pump. You whine and bucked your hips back as you try to turn around fully. He smacks the other cheek just as hard, and holds your neck down forcing you to look forward. He leans down once more.

“Keep. Still.” And he meant it.

“Please Toji please.” You begged. He smacks you again making you shed a tear.

He smacks his cock against your soaking entrance thrusting between your folds and moaning against the shell of your ear.

“Toji?” He questions like the name was alien to him.

You say something so barely above a whisper he moves his hand from the back of your neck to you jaw clenching it tightly.

“Say it again.” He growls.

You sniffle, “daddy-“

Toji smiles.

“Such a good lil bimbo fa’ me, fuck.” He pushes his tip at your entrance again, letting it slip in a bit and you squeeze around it. You’re suffocating him, he inhales sharply. You’d taken Miguel plenty of times but usually you were a lot more prepared, Miguel took his time with you, and worshiped you. Toji just made you slick enough so his dick wouldn’t burn sliding in. And you fucking loved it. To be used like you meant nothing, just a cock sleeve, it made you whine more.

He pushed his tip further in earning a sharp moan from you. He continues pushing and stretching his way rudely into you. Taking off his shirt as he finally bottoms out, you let out a slutty cry.

“Fa-fyuck yes. Oh my god.” You drooled.

Toji threw his head back and laughed.

“Oh fuck you’re a trip puppy, g’na make sure I pump this pussy full before I leave yeah?” In which you nodded. By now you had adjusted to his size so Toji got to moving. He started off a bit slow, but as you gripped into the desk he pushed your legs further apart and bullied his cock into you.

“Ffffuckin’ hell.” He rasped into your ear, pressing his chest down against your back. You arch a bit trying to get as much of him as you can swallow into your little cunt.

“Fuck yes!” Your eyes rolled. “Oh my gosh mister please keep going keep touching me, fuck use me, use me Toji!” You babbled desperately. He hooked onto your hip dips and rammed into you like a man starved of physical touch.

“FUCK!” He shouted, he wrapped his hand around the front of your neck this time and began squeezing. Depriving you of air every few seconds which just added to the light headed feeling you were already experiencing.

“Mmm fuck how does daddy’s cock feel, better than that brooding ass fuck Miguel.” He taunts.

“Dun say that.” You moan.

“Mmm you’re drenching my cock and practicing tryna fuck onto me puppy. Clearly he ain’t fuckin’ you right, but don’t worry.” Smacking your ass several times until they stung.

“Daddy’s home.” He drills into you and you feel that knot coming back, one orgasm pulled from you yet you felt so overstimulated, this was so new and so good. It was so exciting. You clamped around Toji desperately like some bitch in heat.

“Fuck mister m’gunna.” You whined.

“Yeah?” He taunted. He pulled out and flipped you onto your back again just to slide in as easily and hammer into you, either knee over his shoulder.

“FUCKKK!” The both of you shouted in union. He was angling you to where he’d hammer into you g-spot and brush your cervix with a soft kiss each time. Too much.

“M’ cummin Toji oh my gosh I’m gonna cum I can’t anymore.” You cried, chanting his name like a ritual was happening.

“Go on puppy, cum, make a fuckin mess on my cock yeah?” He slapped you and leaned to moan against your ear. You dug your nails down his back making his cock twitch inside of you.

“Oh fuck..” you both moaned staring into each others eyes.

“Fuck- make a mess of me daddy p-please- make-.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

You halted.

And turned.

Miguel…

To be continued?….

©Kissditrio <3

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol. 24

Howdy folks!

I love how I said I was never waiting two weeks to do a digest again and then almost immediately did it again. Anyway if you're new here, this is every new (to me) fic I read this week (and last week) and some of my silly little thoughts about them. I have 19 fics for you this week!

As always you can find all of my previous recs here and the original spreadsheet here (now updated with warnings, author summaries, and word counts + I'm checking for broken links).

Recs below the pedro!

Multiples/MMF/MMMF

Euclidean Geometry - Frankie/Jack/Pero one shot by @leslie-lyman

I’d never have thought to put these three together and even if i had, it would have been straight up PWP no feelings. But this is STUNNING. It’s only 1.4k words but there’s such a depth to it. The different dynamics each of the boys and reader brings to the relationship, the way they care for each other AHHH and then the little flash scenes of smut 🥵🥵

The Impaler - Tim Rockford/Max Phillips one shot by @kiwisbell

This is my first Tim Rockford fic EVER and I adored it. I’m a big fan of making Max into a more serious and scary vampire and this was… so fucking hot y’all. (kinda dubcon for Tim bc he seems to be under a bit of a trance). Guys this has like every MMF position you could ever want. DVP… Spitroast… It’s so hot. And reader is so hot. And I’m melting fr.

Joel

Attraction Spell - joel one shot by @jksprincess10

I love a vampire Joel, I really really do. And I love a witchy reader just as much if not more. TW for NonCon bc Joel like… stalks reader and then gets her to basically drug herself with an attraction spell and then he also like.. Is a vampire? So there’s that. I loved this so so much. Joel is hot and scary.

Made by Hand - Joel one shot by @tinycozycomfort

Reader is married and Joel is your lover. He doesn’t really have anything to offer you at all – I mean he can’t give you something that would get you caught and he doesn’t seem to have much to give anyway. But he hand sews you a pair of cuffs made from blue ribbon AHHHHH. This fic is heartbreaking and so beautifully written. Of course the smut is hot, but the peek into Joel’s mind is really what does it for me here. He is so sad. UGHGHGHGHGH. Gimme 800 chapters of this STAT.

Garden of Earthly Delights - Joel one shot by @thesimulationswarm

What’s Gin a slut for? That’s right. Sub!Joel. Reader is a little badass in this and Joel is honestly pathetic and it’s so hot. His general air of violence and like… being a terrifying man are still present, which just makes it better that reader reduces him to a pathetic whimpering mess. Submissive Apple Washing is my favorite tag ever, also. 

Balsam - Joel series by @thesimulationswarm

This one is great if you love characters. The author really takes the time to build up the characters in the town, really situating you in the lives of the people of Jackson. There’s no smut as of yet; this is a slow burn and Nina/Doc (the OC) is really just starting to connect with Joel at this point. I cannot say enough how much I love the worldbuilding in this. I adore the characters and their intricate and detailed relationships and the inner conflicts going on with each of them. This is gorgeous and I’m so excited for the next chapter.

@theywhowriteandknowthings Murder Daddy Kinktober

Neighbor's Gardener's Brother Joel, MDKT Sex Pollen - Joel, MDKT Day 17 - Din

Ok the neighbor’s gardener’s brother Joel is hotter than it has any right to be. He’s filthy, reader is filthy. It’s beautiful. 

The sex pollen fic… man I fucking love sex pollen. And you also get tentacles and mind fuck and all the other delicious monsterfucking things that drive me up a damn wall (dub con obvi…). 

And Day 17 - a bounty who keeps running from Din because she loves to be caught by him. She’s thrilled by the chase so much she…. Oops spoilers… Just read it. It’s being turned into a full series and I cannot wait to read it! 

Din

Good Taste - Din series by @charnelhouse

Pornstar!Din – the crack fic this came from is also great, but I really enjoyed this. Din is so fucking hot and like kind of a dick, which I love very much. I only read the crackfic and the main fic, but there’s a whole list of drabbles that I’m sure I’ll dig into later. 

Ezra

Long Fall into Oblivion - Ezra one shot by @oonajaeadira

As usual, Adira wrote something I love with my whole heart – who’s surprised? Not me. Anyway Ezra is training you to be a prospector and he is absolutely lovely. Reassuring, kind, protective. Adira does non-explicit smut so well she basically invented the concept. 

Shorn - Ezra one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Ezra really likes your body hair, but it is time for you to shave – I love a fucking weird ass fic and I’m gonna go out on a limb and say erotic shaving is weird. I also don’t normally love shaving scenes in fics/books because there can be an element of shaming the natural body? But this fic does the opposite. It celebrates the natural body through the lens of Ezra and is also just unreasonably fucking hot. I love that weird little man with all my heart. 

Dream Within a Dream - Ezra one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Incubus!Ezra – so yes, you die, because that’s what incubuses (incubi?) do. They rock your dream world and then they consume you. But listen… Ezra is ethereal and gorgeous, the dream world is absolutely stunning, the smut is hot, and honestly I’d beg him to eat my heart out too. I can’t say enough about this fic actually. I read it this morning and I’m still reeling. 

Javier Peña

you miss me? - Javi P one shot by @amanitacowboy

You tease Javi while he’s at work and he punishes you for it when he gets home… and it is so deliciously good. Dom!Javi has me in a chokehold (or I wish he did). 

The Raid - Javi P one shot by @toxicanonymity

Some dark!Javi from toxic! Your boyfriend or whatever gets his house raided by the DEA and Javi saves you from getting uhhh used… by his coworkers. But then he takes you for himself. Based loosely on her Raider!Joel series. Obviously non/dub con. Javi is so mean and hot pls. 

Pent Up - Javi P one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Javi hurt his ankle (which Ang did as a dig at me because I did the same) and can’t drive, so he hasn’t been able to get any… release… which leads to him jacking off at his desk after hours. It’s so hot. I was like laughing at him up til he actually touches himself and then I about fell over. What I wouldn’t give to be his lil stress reliever. Javi baby I would live under your desk if you asked me to. 

Frankie

You hired a cleaning lady, Mr. Morales? - Frankie one shot by @beskarandblasters

After the events of TF Frankie is in a bit of a depression (understandable), and his house gets more than a little messy. Santi hires a cleaning service (you) to help him out. Listen… I wish I was as bold as reader. After the sexual tension between you and Frankie gets too much to bear, you show up in a god damn sexy maid outfit to torture him into convince him to finally make a move on you. It’s so hot… reader is a sexy bad ass bitch and Frankie is adorable and so hot. 

snowball kiss - Frankie one shot by @beskarandblasters

The discord found this definition on urban dictionary and Kel ran with it. It’s filthy in the best way. Pussy eating king Frankie learned a new trick and honestly it’s devastating me emotionally that I can’t have him

Dieter

Dress me up and call me pretty - Dieter one shot by @morallyinept

Messy Messy Messy Dieter – my favorite type of Dieter. His drug addiction and overall patheticness are in full force here. He wants to make himself look pretty so he uses your makeup. You come home and make sure he feels loved and beautiful, and also ruin his makeup. Pegging/sub dieter/etc but also… this fic is really fucking sweet. It kind of broke my heart despite also being filthy and depraved and I love that in a Dieter fic. I love how reader is like "we'll try again" like??? How dare you make me cry when I'm reading sub!dieter. Dammit. 

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My most recent work is Starving Season - a twisted little Dave York love as consumption three parter that I plan to add a fourth part to soon.

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Happy Reading!

[onmyyan]

🗡️Psycho🗡️ Anon, here again! #3?

I don’t think you’re ever gettin rid of me now that you’ve told me you like what I’ve submitted to ya. Ya bad for me n my ego. You’re enabling me hun. It does mean a lot to me though and I am very happy I’m makin you foam at the mouth. Your men make me go feral and I obviously have stage 4 brain rot for all your OCs. No treatment for me. No salvation either doc

So here some intense follow up appointment delulu I got from the long ass Ashley Hunt AU story with hard core city girl reader I sent earlier. Buckle up bitch…you’re probably always gonna be in for a long haul with me…

Leavin off from Ash and our HEA, we got twins on the way n shit. And Ash is gonna give us at least another 5 babies too since we his happy lil breedin sow. But we gon speed up in time and not focus too much on dat, cause in the end we got 6 sons and 1 lil baby girl who da youngest. All back to back pregnancies. Ash got dem sexy hot dominant genes and really just gave his sons all the gifts he himself has. Tall, handsome, strong, chivalrous, charismatic, intelligent, etc. (They probably god’s favorites too). And we were like a fuckin printin machine makin copies n wonderin why the fuck we havin so many sons. So we fuckin delighted when we finally got a baby girl and are finally able to put the towel in cause we were also done havin his babies too. We love him. But 7 is plenty…

And so our story is really gonna focus on our lil baby Princess, cause she’s basically gonna be the “new reader insert.” Lil baby Princess grows up as a total daddy’s girl and is also doted on by her 6 big bros. She knows how to do some farm work, though she mostly inside helpin us her mama doin domestic work as it’s a bit more tough takin care of 7 men by oneself and we can always use an extra pair of hands in the kitchen. And you bet Ash is drillin in the same work ethic into his own sons as his own pa did to him. Builds character...

Lil baby Princess grows up wantin more in life. Just like how Ash’s sons inherited near almost everything from him, she inherited near almost everything from us her mama. Princess wanna leave the small town fast and is dead set on doin so when she graduates with her associates degree from the local community college. Her daddy, Ash managed to convince her to stay at the community college first. Get out general eds, stay closer to home before makin the big city leap and potentially getting a bachelors degree. Reluctantly Princess agreed to it but still had to go to the next town over since that’s where the community college is. Her home town is still much smaller…

And so she finally got her associates degree at 21 and is headin to the city to find a job n new life once the summer passes. It’ll be her last summer at home with her family she’s decided. On one of her casual outings ridin a horse she finds a man stuck on the road. Flat tire. Nice car too. He’s very handsome, tall, and muscular…to everyone else. But to Princess he just average and nothin much to look at. That what livin with 7 men built by Greek gods for 21 years does to ya. Makes ya numb to everyone people will conventionally say is beautiful n attractive. And Princess grew up with every woman around her thirstin over one of her bros and her father too. Even women from other towns would find excuses to swing by and gawk at the 7 men workin on the farm. So needless to say Princess isn’t wooed by men’s appearances…

Princess decides to help the poor fellow out cause her daddy raised her right. Offers him up a ride on her horse and tells the man she’ll call a truck for his car later. The man accepts and thinkin she’ll have to help him up on the horse for some time, the man easily mounts on the horse like it’s the second nature? And in an expensive suit too? She shakes it off and they go back to the Hunt farm…

During the ride the man asks Princess her name and what not (and I guess it’d still be Y/N cause the excuse is that she was named after her mama by Ash’s demands). Princess asks his name too, he gives it to her, and then no more talking on her end. This confuses the man as all his life people have usually wanted to make conversation with him. Or have usually always commented on his beautiful appearance by now. But not Princess. She really doesn’t give a shit about a stranded man’s life story. She’s here to do a job and get on with her life. And of course she’s immune to beauty at this point…

They finally come to the Hunt residence where Princess puts away her horsie and fixes up the man some water and food, bein a good host and all. She calls up the local mechanic and informs them of the details. Princess then just straight up leaves the man and tells him if he wants to take a nap, shower, whatever, to help himself. This is a fuckin power move as Princess has truly run out of shits to give in life. And she still ain’t tryin to converse at all with the man. Man is livid right now. Seeing Princess’s eyes filled with indifference. He confused as fuck too. Wonderin if she mentally sound or this is some country culture etiquette he doesn’t understand…

Now for the good shit. The Hunt men all come in as with so many hands workin on the farm now, shit gets done exponentially faster even though they got more stock and stuff over the years. They a little confused at first seein a posh lookin man greet them. But nothin gets bad as the man quickly explains the situation that happened. And the man is stunned to lookin at all these 7 aesthetically gorgeous men. The man is very confident in his own looks and it rarely happens in his life that he starts to get a bit insecure about them…

Ash asks the man where his daughter is, and the man replies that she just left? Much to the laughter of Ash’s 6 sons howling that “they’ll have nothing to ever worry about” with Princess. The man’s ego is damaged at this point. Is he unattractive? Is he undesirable? But he easily keeps a calm and collected face and voice…

The Hunt men politely excuse themselves having to go wash up from workin all day, leaving the man all alone again. We the mama enter the area, having heard commotion n stuff. We were preparing dinner n stuff in the kitchen which was far away. We go through same process and introduce and meet the mystery man. The phone rings and it’s the mechanic tellin us that the car won’t be ready for quite some time and the man will have to hitch a ride out of town if he’s got somewhere to be urgently. We inform the man and also ask if he got a place to stay. He don’t since he was just drivin by the town, so we offer him our home for the time bein. He hesitantly accepts…

Man decides to converse with us instead since we’re the most hospitable and social person he’s met in the family. He asks about our family and we do him. He keeps his background vague and we get the hint not to pock around. He really is just curious about our daughter, the Princess of the family. And we happily tell him all about her. Her hopes and dreams n stuff. Much to his delight that Princess seems like a normal human being n not a mechanical doll…

And that when he get the idea to propose to Princess later to take her with him out of the town to see the city and new places. Cause while he hasn’t fallen in love with her at first sight or anything like Ash did, there’s something about us that’s drawing him near. Perhaps it is our absolute indifference to him, and the fact that he just wants to prove something to himself. He wants to “figure us out.” Princess is a bit of a conquest and trophy to him, and he’s not afraid to admit that. So what’s the harm in this mutually future beneficial relationship? He’ll provide for Princess to get out of town and be able to see the world, and in turn he’ll get us to fall for him. The perfect plan. Nothing can go wrong…

A Princess for a Grand Duke, isn’t that fitting? Though the man will keep that a secret for as long as he can. If she asks questions about his wealth he’ll just pretend he’s an investor or something. One things for sure, Princess will definitely keep him entertained for a long time. A really really really long time…⁄(⁄ ⁄ ⁄ω⁄ ⁄ ⁄)⁄

And scene! I just love imaginin different flavors of a yandere stories. Like dis one is obviously a much more slower burn than the whirlwind romance of Ash and his wifey. And it’d really follow the descent of madness of a Grand Duke yandere who’s truly falling into love and obsession over his lady. He thinkin he in control at first but realize steadily fast that he can’t live without her. And to make it worse, he never lose control of things in his life. Not his looks, his composure, etc. so it makes this predicament even nastier for him to deal with. But lucky for us Princess, havin grown up with Ash as our daddy and 6 big bros who also have some questionable “protective” tendencies, we have a bit of a contorted sense of love too. So our “normal” is much different than other people’s “normal”

Also did you like the hint I dropped in dis drabble about the mystery man’s background? It was about him being able to easily get up on a horse despite being in a suit and lookin all fancy and stuff. Cause not many people can do that. So you either know how to do it as a career…or as a hobby…

Final thought as to why a Grand Duke yandere ya thinkin? From your OCs ya got the Delmonts who are criminal flavor, then Ash who’s country flavor, and then other popular yandere archetypes tend to be royalty, famous, or CEO more often than not. So I thought that royalty would be fun since it’d give the new leadin man not just an abundance of financial power but social power as well that CEO power might lack. Ya know…since royals can have diplomatic immunity and CEOs pretty much don’t. Some new flavors for the spice cabinet is always good. Besides I also just wanna see a man abuse his absolute power with impunity in yandere stories sometimes…So if ya ever decide to make a new yandere OC. Here an idea. I don’t mind ya usin it and I’d be thrilled if ya did

Love 🗡️Psycho🗡️ Anon

A/N: OKAYA THE INSTANT BRAIN ROT THIS GSVE ME SBDJDKD YOU DID IT AGAIN MY LOVE OMG THE WAYYY I INSTANTLY FELL IN LOVE WJTH THIS PIECE EEEE THE SIX OLDER BROTHERS WHO ARE CARBON COPIES OF ASH??? HELLO??? AMAZING WRITING THAT DOWN Holy FUCK‼️‼️‼️💗👄💗 NOT TO MENTION THE DUKE EEEEEEEE AND PRINCESS IS SUCH A PERFECT NICKNAME FOR BABY GIRL I CANNOT YOUR MIND IS SO BEAUTIFUL THANK YOU FOR FEEDING ME AND US ONCE AGAIN😩😩😩😩❤️❤️❤️UR POOKIE FR HERE SUM V SMALL BEC MY BRAIN IMMEDIATELY STARTED HAPPY DANCING W THIS CONCEPT

Princess stared at the man, her hard (e/c) eyes unwaivering, unmoving in their glare. She sucked her teeth, hearing her father's voice in her head as she stuck her hand up waving the stranger over.

"Get on, we'll take you somewhere safe, get this all figured out yea?" Princess says, no hint of suggestion in her soft voice. The stranger staggered for a moment before offering her his famous grin, a smile that had gotten him far in his life, "Thank you- really you're too kind, what's your name?" He says smoothly mounting the horse, expecting some fanfare from the desert rose before him, but instead he got a stiff nod and, "(Y/n)." was all he got.

She clicked her tongue and the horse took off, she hadn't waited to see if he was situated, a small smile on her face as she heard him gasp at their sudden departure.

[vacantgodling]

this year was one of the first years in a long time that i TRULY committed myself to writing any and everything that i thought of and it’s been a really good feeling. so starting from this year, i wanna have a little year in review so i can look back and reminisce on how much i actually did cuz sometimes it’s hard to tell lol.

TOTAL WORDS WRITTEN (january — december 2023)

139,345 (as of 11/30 (google docs only))

i’ve written more probably, but my notes app is harder to keep track of word counts in. this total is also across all pieces of prose and poetry, though poetry isn’t a significant number lol

if this was all in one piece i’d probably have a full novel already lmao 💀

LONGEST SINGLE PIECE

paramour chapter 9 — masquerade, clocking in at 5,894 words

WIP THAT HAS MADE THE MOST HEADWAY BY THE NUMBERS

paramour is sitting pretty at 30k-ish words written overall (including me writing chapter 20 twice lol)

WIP THAT HAS MADE THE MOST HEADWAY BY THE HEART

definitely cage. i’ve had this fanfiction and wip for years and the fact that i’d finished the full outline like last year but didnt start writing it until now and how much headway ive made in such little time… i’m really proud of myself. i can’t wait to actually finish this bitch

TOP PIECES WRITTEN THIS YEAR

Worthless War -> the cherry on top, best thing i’ve written this year and probably in general for a long time.

Come To Bed -> when i lost my mind about buddy daddies earlier this year, this fic really encapsulated everything i felt about the show. i love the narration, i love how it’s fun and playful but also deep, and i remember having so much fun writing it.

Paramour Chapter 20 “Careless Whisper” -> the rewrite of chapter 20 i am UNREASONABLY obsessed with and it’s a shame i can’t post it here without giving so so so much away. i love it so much i am willing to share it with those who don’t care about spoilers lol but its smutty and emotionally charged and everything perfect about amon and hya’s fucked up mess

A Fool’s Errand -> this is in the role swap amon and hya au and tbh this au is So Fun to me. getting to be in amon’s head more often is definitely a treat and the description of the make out is PEAK

Good Feeling -> i will never be normal about hue and jihan and i think i captured their relationship esp in the early days perfectly so i’m just gonna cry about it

Ritual -> i really love this piece and giving life again to some old ocs meant a lot to me. + the smut 🤌🏾🤌🏾

Distraction -> no one knows or cares about these ocs but me and that’s okay i’ll just be feral about them on my own 😭

GOALS FOR NEXT YEAR

reach 150k words written overall

finish cage like it’s GOING to happen i will it

finish the first draft of paramour!!!

[paramouradrift]

Honor & OC's (On The High Seas), Batch #2

So there I was, scanning my two master docs with all my OC info arrayed before me, and I was like, "Self, which group should you do next? You've so many options. So many prices and values! Who would make an appropriate follow-up to the officers?"

And then, it came to me. There was really only one, true option.

FIREBENDERS, BABY.

In a fic that center's Zuko's struggles with his own inner sense of right and wrong, naturally his bending--and the people who guide and train him--should take center stage. Besides which, I'm sure some of you are dying to know what half of the secondary ship looks like (fear not, the other half will be covered soon enough).

In terms of rank, the firebenders aboard the Momiji, later the Setsujoku, are all members of the same firebender corps, which puts them above the rhino riders, artillerists, and ordinary seamen, but below the tradesmen, senior non-com officers, and all commissioned officers. This matters a great deal more on a larger, more strictly-run vessel, of course, where ship norms, collective experience, and instinctive bonds of loyalty aren't there to maintain crew cohesion. These people have, after all, all been sailing with Zuko et al for three years, and before that all of them served under Iroh right up until the siege of Ba Sing Se.

Without further ado, in order of seniority...

Zoran (the Team Daddy)

Age: 45

Appearance: tall, long greying black hair and beard which are always singed somewhere, receding hairline, top-knot, burns about the ear and neck, medium skin tone, amber eyes, distinguished face, athletic build. Usually found wearing firebender armor or dressed in casual red-lined tan shirt and trousers. He also wears matching woven bracelets from his home village.

Gender & Sexuality: Cis male, Heteroflexible

Likes: Reading, particularly tales and histories, tea, and martial arts training

Dislikes: strong smells, fermented food

Raison d'etre: duty

Service History: Zoran has served in the Fire Army since he was 18, and has received two commendations for battlefield bravery, including a holding action at Ba Sing Se. In the two years between the siege ending and Zuko's banishment, Zoran was recovering from battlefield wounds and training new recruits as a firebending instructor in the Domestic Forces with Hirume.

Hirume (the Support Carry)

Age: 36

Appearance: average height, short black hair in a top-knot, well-trimmed fringe, olive skin tone, green eyes, round face, broken button nose, numerous burns and scars on her hands, arms, and legs, athletic build. Usually found wearing firebender armor or dressed in a dark grey shirt that covers her burns and matching trousers. Hirume also wears a red necklace from her home village.

Gender & Sexuality: Cis female, Heteroflexible

Likes: Reading, story-telling, and sweets

Dislikes: Taiyou's singing

Raison d'etre: protection

Service History: Hirume started in the Domestic Forces at the age of 18 and managed, through a lot of hard work and determination, to secure a transfer to the front line. She served under Iroh with distinction, but was badly injured during the Siege of Ba Sing Se. The Houka Reforms ended her career in the Fire Army, and she did a short stint in a Domestic Forces training academy with Zoran.

Jin Hui (the Elder Gay)

Age: 32

Appearance: tall, shoulder-length black hair in a top-knot, well-groomed black beard and mustache, amber eyes that low-key bore into your soul, olive skin tone, muscular build, numerous scars and burns on his torso, legs, and left arm. Usually found in firebender armor or wearing casual red tunic and trousers in the style of his home island. He also wears red armbands and bracelets, and keeps his hair neat and tidy.

Gender & Sexuality: Cis male, gay as foretold

Likes: Calligraphy, personal grooming, and wordplay

Dislikes: Loud noises, anyone and anything that fucks with his man

Raison d'etre: guidance & protection

Service History: Jin Hui was in the medic corps of the Fire Army after leaving the Fire Temple at 18, but his firebending skill earned him a place on the front line with his boyfriend Tae Gyun. They kept each other's backs through many engagements until the Siege of Ba Sing Se. Tae was killed in action in a push to capture an artillery emplacement on the wall, and Jin Hui continued to fight until the retreat. He requested, and was granted, a transfer to the Domestic Forces where he worked guard and manual labor posts.

Yang (the Sore Winner)

Age: 29

Appearance: average-height, long brown hair in a top-knot, braided to keep the loose strands out of her face, amber eyes, extremely athletic build, olive skin tone, heart-shaped face, resting cash-me-outside face. Usually found in firebender armor or a standard off-duty soldier outfit: dark grey or crimson shirt and trousers, and boots. On special occasions, she will wear a red jacket and dress in Capital City style.

Gender & Sexuality: Cis female, closeted bisexual

Likes: Games, winning, a proper challenge

Dislikes: Bad food

Raison d'etre: Nationalism

Service History: Yang volunteered in the Junior Domestic Forces as a child, and leveraged the connections she made there to secure a spot on the front line under Iroh's banner. She fought with ferocity at Ba Sing Se, but the Houka Reforms eliminated her post and she was sent back to the Domestic Forces as a firebending instructor, a sidewise promotion she was none-too-pleased with.

Taiyou (the Brat)

Age: 27

Appearance: average-height, long brown hair in a top-knot, brown goatee beard, black eyes, athletic build, fair skin tone, dimples, a smile that makes you swoon (or triggers your punching instinct), shrapnel scarring on his entire left side. Usually found in firebender armor or wearing a tastefully revealing crimson shirt--or an open jacket with no shirt--and dark grey trousers. Taiyou accessorizes with bracelets, rings, and necklaces when he's allowed to.

Gender & Sexuality: Cis male, sloppy pansexual

Likes: Games, gambling, flirty bants

Dislikes: killjoys, hypocrites

Raison d'etre: thrills

Service History: Taiyou joined the military because he believed that it would improve his already-impressive game with the ladies of his home island. This proved to be an entirely accurate assessment, and he spent a few tours in the colonies at guard posts during the day and the brothels at night. He was transferred to the force that went on to besiege Ba Sing Se and discovered that he didn't like the front line at all, actually, and also that he didn't mind the company of other men when times were desperate. He was badly injured in the siege and transferred to the Domestic Forces after his recovery.

Haram (the Hot One)

Age: 24

Appearance: below-average height, luscious black hair, well-groomed in a top-knot, medium skin tone, clean-shaven, cheekbones that could cut through glass, built like a brick shithouse, amber eyes, strong nose, a single dimple on his right cheek. Usually found wearing firebender armor or a casual sleeveless red shirt and matching trousers. Haram accessorizes with armbands and a brace on his right forearm due to past injuries.

Gender & Sexuality: Cis male, bi-curious

Likes: Training, proper hair-care, music

Dislikes: Humidity

Raison d'etre: glory

Service History: Haram had the misfortune of being assigned to a rookie division deployed to Ba Sing Se in the second year of the siege. Right out of basic training, he was thrust into the worst of the fighting from the get-go and proved himself skilled on the field. He received a commendation for valor, but battlefield injuries saw him reassigned to the Domestic Forces as a firebending instructor while he recovered.

Stay tuned for more OCs!

[euphor1a]

Hey babes just wanted to ask if you plan on reposting sugarpapi or not?

Okay so I’ve received a bunch of questions about sugarpapi through tumblr and google docs, some were just curious, some were kinda mean, but either way, i wanna clear up some things because it seems like a lot of people (or maybe a few? idk) are confused about the whole thing.

See, i had merely posted a teaser of sugarpapi prior, so the whole reposting question doesn’t really make sense, y’know? And for people asking if i’m still working on it or not: yes, i am working on it and i don’t have any plans of abandoning it.

The thing with sugarpapi is, i can just make it 6K-7K words long with nothing but smut in it, but i don’t want to. I want it to be a proper story of two individuals (oc and yeonjun) and their own types of struggles, how they meet, how things develop, and they get into the whole sugardaddy contract thing, the way they fuck and end up falling for each other, and lastly, all the dilemmas they have to face throughout the journey. And if you couldn’t already guess, the fic will be long, long — if i want to cover all of that. So far, I only have 9K something words written and Yeonjun is only starting to consider being a sugar daddy.

I have no idea when I will be able to finish part 1, and there will be a part 2 (to provide closure); i’m sorry if this is taking way too long, but i genuinely hope you guys will understand and wait for me to finish working on it. I admit that sugarpapi started out as one of those random, spontaneous ideas, and it was meant to be just for fun. But I really wasn’t feeling it with just smut and smut in it. I decided to delete all of the words I had written previously back in March and have been working on developing the plot since then. On top of that, my life hasn’t been super amazing either, so it’s hard to find time to write, and even when I have time, I struggle with motivation and procrastinate for the most time. Also, sugarpapi isn’t the only so called “big project” i’m working on.

I can only ask for you guys to understand my situation and be patient. I don’t know when sugarpapi will come out, but i’m working on it, and i’ll try my best to make sure that it’ll be worth every second you waited for. Thank you.

[pairofmelaninkweens]

La Loteria: Hinata ShoyoxBokuto KaturouxSakusa KiyoomixOC BY: Aztec Brujeria

CW: Gagging, Strapon, Multipartner, M/M/M/F, Polyamorous, Double Penitration, Oral

Please pay heed to the wanings of this page...Minors DNI!

Introducing New OC Ava

Ava, MSBY team physican, had planned to lift and prepare for her powerlifting competition when she ran into her friend Kit. Seeing that Kit wanted some alone time with Atsumu Ava took the boys of her hands. A sleepover fueled by a game of shots and strip loteria leads to an eventful night...

Ava was winding down in her office and putting the last touches on the MSBY team travel health records for their away games next week. Vaccines for the pandemic? Check. Updated physicals? Check. Submitted reports to the visa office for the team? Check. She stretched her arms overhead feeling relief when her lower back popped, “I still need to lift tonight...I’ve got a competition in a month.” She walked around her desk to hang up her lab coat and stethoscope and collected her bags, “I’ll record notes at home tonight I guess.” She pushed her large glasses up her nose and blew a tendril of black hair out of her mismatched eyes, one blue and one green encased in thick raven lashes, that had escaped the messy space buns she always wore. She was five feet tall and curvy with caramel-colored skin and thick natural red lips. She competed in powerlifting for fun outside of work and always had a good time out lifting Kotaro, “Stay calm Bo...remember you get a prize.” She grabbed her keys and jacket and headed out the door. Humming to herself she locked the office and turned to head to the locker room to change and get her quick workout in. 

She ran into Kit chewing the boys out when Ava smiled wide and called out, “¡QUE PASO!” Kit turned and smiled, Atsumu following behind her, “Hey pendejo, Hermana, what are you chewing out the boys for?” Kit had a small vein of annoyance pop out of her head, “I’m trying to have some quality time with Tsumtsum, but the boys have other plans.” Ave looked around them and saw Bo kicking his toe at the ground, Shoyo talking to Omi, and Omi uninterested looking directly at her. “Ah, I can see that, tell you what...WHO WANTS HOMEMADE MEXICAN FOOD AND TEQUILA?!” Ava watched as Kit’s eyes lit up and Tsumu just dumbfounded. “I’ll take them off your hand’s chica! I gotcha.” Bo bounded down the hall and came up to Ava and bear-hugged her and picked her up, while Shoyo and Omi joined in asking for tacos and arroz, “Doc you’re gonna cook fresh tortillas right?” Ava giggling, “Only if you help me. I always get stuck by myself cooking...I should call Samu…” Ava looked at Atsumu dead-eyed and wiggled her eyebrows, he groaned next to Kit, “Hurry before my brother shows up, peaches.” Kit laughed and hugged Tsumu by his waist, “Alright let’s go...you sure you’ll be okay?” Ava being shaken like a rag doll by Bo smiled wickedly, “I’ll be fine...I’ll send ya pictures.” Kit turned with Atsumu and whispered to him, “I’m not gonna lie...Imma need you to be sober to help me in the morning...How she passed and with top marks out of Med school I’ll never know.” 

When Ava and the boys finally made it back to her place with the groceries they set to helping her make dinner. Ava snapped a picture of the three beefy boys in her small kitchen mixing dough and rolling tortillas out was a sight to behold, Bo in her little Mexican embroidered apron from her Abuela made her heart squeeze. She set the table and had them sit around and watched as they poured shots out and ate the food they prepared together, “You know boys why don’t we just have a sleepover?” With a full mouth and double fisting tacos Bo lit up and nodded his head in agreement, Shoyo practically jumped around, “Ooo sleepover with our dulce!” Omi took a shot, his cheeks were starting to warm up, and looked at Ava with a smirk, “What game are we playing, Naníta?” Ava smiled wider, showing her small gappy teeth, making her look demonic, “Why La Lotería of course...unless you think you’re going to lose querido?” Ava filled her shot glass and knocked back the tequila dead ass looking at Omi. It was going to be an interesting night when he followed suit and she could feel the competitive tension between the two of them.

As the hours rolled by they had cleaned up and started their game of Lotería and just like she thought Omi was a sore loser. He sat there with Shoyo and Bo in nothing but their boxer briefs and what a sight to behold with all of them chiseled and cut to perfection from them being pros. “Well, well, well...are we ready to play for higher, hiccup, stakes?” Ava had at some point lost her space buns, her thick long wavy hair surrounded her shoulders, she lost her shirt and skirt and sat in her thong and lace bra and thigh-high stockings held up by her garter belt. She lost count of all the texts she sent to Kit but she didn’t care, “What’re higher stakes than this Naníta?” Ava grabbed another shot, these men could never out drink her, “I want to dick down Bo with a ball gag and have you and Shoyo pound me into him...make me cum several times you two.” Ava knocked the shot back like a pro staring down Omi across the table. Bo looked at Ava and his mouth dropped and Shoyo immediately had a very large erection that could not be hidden by his boxer briefs, I thought he was packing, I knew it. With her mismatched gaze and reddened cheeks, she just smiled with a cocky grin, “Well? Are we doing this or not ese?” Omi went to play his hand and already knew when Ava smiled at him hungrily he had lost. He looked at Bo, “I’m so sorry...but you’ll get to cum...many times I think.” Bo blushed and he cried out as Ava grabbed him for a kiss, “Oh we’re going to have so much fun!” Ava squealed like an excited sorority girl pledging.

Shoyo shot up from the table, “Daddy’s ready to play mi pequeña dulce.” His voice dropped three octaves and Omi just stood up and headed to Ava’s bedroom. Bo picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, slapping her ass and groaning as it jiggled by his face, and followed behind them. Ava grabbed her phone luckily and sent another photo to Kit as she was over Bo’s shoulder... I did tell you I’d take them off your hands for the night….HELP!! Once in the bedroom Bo threw Ava upon the bed and watched as she bounced and giggled, “Bo, Daddy owl, I don’t think so.” Ava got on her knees and grabbed Bo by his shoulders and brought him down for a kiss. Their lips meshed and melded together, tongues devouring each other, Bo whimpering brought his arms around her as she moved to get off the bed. Shoyo stopped her by putting his thick body behind her, she felt his cock in her ass, as he brought his hands up to cup her breast, growling in her ear, “Daddy thinks you need to take this bra off.” He undid the clasp in between her heavy breast, watching as her tits sprung free catching the glint of her piercings, and guided the bra off her shoulders. His hands came up to cup her tits and began to massage them and pinch her darker tan nipples between his fingers, Shoyo was entranced with her piercings that made her more sensitive and began to tease her nipples,  while he left bite marks down her throat and shoulders grinding harder into her ass making her slicker by the second. Ava moaned at the sensation that sent ripples of pleasure through her body as Omi crawled across the bed and waited for Bo to release her lips for him to get a taste for himself, whispering in her ear, “Do you like being the center of attention Naníta? Hmm, do you like when you drive us MSBY men crazy?” Omi reached up and took hold of her chin before he brought his lips towards her. Shoyo had traced his fingers down to the top of her lace thong and slipped his fingers underneath to circle around her aching clit. She gasped into Omi’s lips and he growled as he devoured her moans. Bo was behind them stroking his cock and pinching his nipples enjoying the sight of Ava being coaxed to life by his teammates, “Yeah, baby owl, You look so fucking hot like that, hnnn…” Ava growled into Omi as Shoyo sinfully slipped in his middle finger into her drenched sex grinding more and more into her, reaching up and grabbing Omi by the throat, she broke the kiss and bit his bottom lip. “Now, now, you know I won the game...It looks like Shoyo is going first since you must have forgotten.” Omi groaned as she reached down and stroked his twitching cock through his boxer briefs, “Oh, are you drenched already? You haven’t even played with my pussy yet...Jefe.”

Letting go of Omi she reached down and stilled Shoyo’s hand torturing her fluttering slick walls, turning and kissing him, she slipped out his arms and headed towards her closet. “Bo, Daddy owl, in the nightstand will you pull out the lube baby.” Bo groaned and walked to the nightstand, rock hard and aching, and pulled out the lube. “Baby owl, do I have to wear the ball gag?” Ava poked her head out of the closet and smiled, “Daddy owl, you lost the game, I want my prize.” She stepped into her strap and adjusted the harness walking out with a large-sized dildo, still wearing her garter belt and thigh-high stockings, she heard the boys moan at the sight of her as she braided her long hair and flipped it over her shoulder. She shivered in anticipation and walked toward Bokuto. She took the lube out of his hands and kissed him, snaking her hand up to the back of his neck to pull on his hair forcing him to expose his neck, “Be a good boy now for your doña and present for me baby.” He whimpered and turned around to get on all fours on the bed, “Ah, ah, ah, I’m a shortie remember...on the floor Daddy Owl.” He did just that and looked at her over his broad shoulders with lust-blown eyes. Shoyo and Omi finished stripping and stroking lazily watching the power of their little dom making Bo present for her, Omi bucked his hips slightly in his own hand and moaned at the sight of her spreading Bo’s knees. “Fuck, Shoyo, I could watch this all night.” Shoyo moaned out loud as he squeezed his fat cock so he could edge himself, “She sure knows what she’s doing.” She turned her attention towards the other two, “Okay boys, let’s play.” She held out the gag and had Omi take it, “Make sure to put it on him right, jefe, I want to see him drool in the mirror.” She caressed her hands over Bo’s thick ass and down his back before bending over him and whispering in his ear, “I want to hear you cry out as you cum from us, baby.” Bo groaned at the sultry promise from Ava

Ava stood behind Bo and watched as Omi walked in front of Bo and bent down to take his lips in a quick sultry kiss before making him open his mouth to place the gag in and strap it behind his head. “Oh, Bo, look at you so handsome like this for our Doña. You are such a good boy.” Ava watched as Bokuto shivered in ecstasy with the praise. She took her fingers and was taken by surprise when Shoyo came up behind her to slide his hard cock between the crux of her thighs, “Daddy can’t wait for too much longer Dulce.” Shoyo groaned into Ava as he bit her shoulder thrusting slowly to make sure his dick was wet with her arousal, “Fuck, I need you please.” Ava turned and took her fingers and shoved them in Shoyo’s mouth, “Get them wet daddy I need to open our good boy up.” With brown eyes rolling in the back of his head he sucked and lapped at her fingers as she let the drool coat her digits. When she pulled them out she gave him a quick kiss, “Thank you, daddy.” Ava turned her attention to Bo’s perfect ass and slowly slid her wet fingers to coax him open, first her middle finger, Bo moaned against the ball gag and Omi whispered praises in his ear while stroking his dick. When Ava felt her need becoming greater and greater she watched for the first string of drool that escaped from Bo’s obstructed mouth. She slipped her index finger in his tight ass and felt him begin to relax as she scissored him open slowly to take her strap. As his moans became louder and the pool of pre began to soak her clean grey carpet below. “Oh, daddy owl, are you ready for me baby?” She guided her strap to the entrance of Bo’s ass and slowly sank in letting him take her inch by inch; crying out against the gag and drooling more. 

Ava finally bottomed out and pulled back to thrust inside of Bo before she set the pace, letting him get used to her inside of him. She gripped his hip before reaching to fist his hair and thrust into him, hearing Bo moan against his gag and seeing his eyes roll into the back of his head made Ava groan. “Shoyo...Daddy...Fuck us.” Ava heard Shoyo growl as he gripped her hip and guided his aching tip into her swollen opening and thrusted in. Ava cried out as she got used to Shoyo’s girth and length stretching her plush walls to their limits. “F-FUCK AVA!!!” Shoyo didn’t want to wait and picked up a brutal pace, slapping his heavy balls against Ava’s ass. Every thrust caused Ava to thrust harder and harder into Bo causing him to begin to cry. Omi fucking moaned the loudest as he stroked his aching cock to the sight of Bo drooling. Ava pulled harder on Bo’s hair and forced him to arch his back, “Fuck S-Shoyo!! DADDY!” Shoyo dug his fingers into her hips and knew she'd come out with bruises. “Omi please...want, hnnn, you inside, Omi!!!” Shoyo pulled out and waited for Omi. He gripped the tip of his cock and groaned as he edged himself, “Omi i'll take her ass if you take her tight pussy.” Ava kept thrusting into Bo, his moaning causing him to become more of a mess. When Omi got underneath both Bo and Ava.

Bo’s knees were on each side of his shoulders and Ava above, “Fuck, sugar plum, you look absolutely drenched,” he brought his digits to pump inside of her making her head fall back, “Your wet cunt sucks my fingers in so greedily plum.” Ava made Bo get on his knees and held his broad chest against her own as Omi guided himself into her and slowly stretched her. Shoyo cursed at the sight when he watched Omi take in Bo’s heavy sack and sucked on him while slowly thrusting up into Ava, “Your tight ass is gonna be filled now too, Baby.” Shoyo knows how to take his time and hears you whimper as he reaches in front to circle your clit  exposed by the strap buried deep inside of Bo rubbing against his spot. When she felt the fat head of shoyo enter her ass she cried out at the sensation of being double stuffed by thick volleyball players. “FUCK YESS!” Shoyo finally bottomed out inside of Ava, giving her a few moments to adjust, and began thrusting. Omi reached around and took Bo’s leaking heavy cock into his mouth and began to suck on him as he felt Ava forcefully thrust into his ass harder touching his pleasurable spot, making the drool flow from his mouth. Ava was close, Shoyo was beginning to twitch inside of her and throb, “Fuck, fuck, I’m-I’m gonna cum, I-“ Shoyo thrust one final time in Ava’s tight ass and emptied himself inside of her. Omi cried out with his thrust hitting Ava’s Soft spot and she threw her head back screaming as Bo followed suit emptying into Omi’s mouth. “DADDIIESSS!!!” Ava felt herself convulsing around Shoyo and Omi while Bo shook against Ava’s body. When she finally came down she reached and undid the ball gag and slowly slipped the strap out of Bo. 

Omi, after having caught his breath and waiting for Ava to let her gorilla grip on his cock relax, got up from under Ava and Bo and walked to the bathroom to grab a couple of warm washcloths. He tossed one to Shoyo who lay on his back with wide eyes, letting them uncross, “Hey, shorty, you good?” He chuckled when Shoyo took the warm washcloth and cleaned up, hissing with his sensitive tip. He found Bo hugging Ava’s midsection letting her praise him and kiss his forehead, “How is our boy doing?” Ava looked up and smiled a thousand-watt smile at Omi, “He’s a good boy, he did so good, didn’t you daddy owl.” Bo snuggled in more and inhaled Ava’s scent of jasmine and clean linen, “Mommy, I liked it so much.” Omi bent down and reached between Ava’s thighs and cleaned her up while taking her lips for a languid kiss. “Thank you, jefe, I needed you three tonight.” Ava then took her the other washcloth and cleaned Bo up. When Bo was cleaned up he stood and picked up Ava bridal style and took her to bed with Omi following behind and Shoyo sleeping on top of her midsection. The next morning she was surprised to find Ushi at her bedroom door smiling wickedly as she stirred awake, “Honey...looks like you had fun without me. I’m going to have to feed you and teach you a lesson later mi amor.” 

[messengerhermes]

Terrible Toads Today! Get your Terrible Toads! I wanted to play around with different multiverse versions of Toad as part of a warm-up from last night. Upper Left Toad is based on the early 00's X-Men movies, lower Middle Toad is good old Toddles from X-men Evolution, and Lower right Toad is based on a bizarre 80'sish Brotherhood storyline where Toad was blond ran the brotherhood, and frankly dressed like he owned a used car lot in Miami. The other three Toads are just me fucking around and amusing myself.

Upper Middle Toad is just an angry little amphibian, who I imagine wears a plastic chain because they don't want Good Daddy Mags to be able to strangle them with his powers.

Upper Right Toad is a little bit of a fantasy nightmare version of "what if Toad was some kind of fey/divine creature" so despite having the most outwardly friendly expression, probably will give you something that will have you tripping balls and waking up in a different decade, whether that decade is past or future, could not tell you.

Lower left Toad ended up giving off kind of "Mean Scary Lady, Do Step on Me" vibes, I tried not to radically change her face up, because I'm not here for the gender essentialist bullshit. I imagine she's the most competent of the six of them and will leave with your credit card information before you've noticed it gone. Definitely tried to go for the Doc Oc vibes from Into the Spiderverse with her.

[Image description: A digital painting of 6 portraits of Marvel's Toad, stacked in two rows of three. All the Toads have green splotchy markings on their skin, eyes with black sclera and gold and red streaked irises with long flat pupils and green tongues. Starting in the upper left corner they look as the following: A Toad with short curly hair sticking out his tongue, he wears goggles and sticks out his tongue as he smirks open mouthed, the next Toad has a mohawk and a surly expression, they wear a red plastic chain around their neck and dark lipstick, the third toad has long flowing hair that has mushrooms and flowers growing out of it and sticks out their tongue. There's a flat woodear mushroom growing from their throat, they're smiling, but unsettling. The bottom row of Toads: A Toad sticks out her tongue as she tips her head down to look out at the audience, her hair is shaved on one side, she smirks and sticks out her tongue, curling it around itself, the middle Toad is good old X-Men Evo Todd, he's looking down and away from the audience, his skin is ashen and less dappled with green compared to the other Toads, The final Toad is blond in a neon pink shirt, he looks like he'll probably try to sell you a used car. He tips his head back to stare out at the audience with a grin.]

[thecrimsonjaguar]

A Short List of Adventure Time AUs

So I got a google doc of adventure time aus I’ve made over the past two or three years. Here are some of my favorites (and also the ones I came back to and edited)

If you’ve got ideas for an au or ideas to add onto the preexisting ones I’ve got here, please tell me! I’m always up for some au discussion. 

1.) Jermaine AU: Jermaine comes to live at the treehouse after his house blows up. This, unlike canon, happens rather early in season 3. The rest of the series mainly stays the same, except this time there's three brothers instead of two. He's a kinda anxious dude with demon hunting expertise and a painting hobby. He sometimes wonders if he made Dad disappointed by letting all his work explode. Finn and Jake help him out, and he helps them. Despite this, Jermaine is the only one with a brain, and Finn and Jake share exactly one (1) braincell that they trade every so often. Jermaine is tired. (Jermaine is the only one who tries to clean regularly, and he's also the one to keep Neptr, Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant, and a few others company. He's a bit of real wisdom the early series Finn and Jake needed.

2.) Melted Ice AU: Mid season two, IK is hit with something that de-ages him. He turns six. Maybe this mystery de-aging thing blows up the top of the ice mountain, who knows. Maybe he wakes up in the snow, with no memory of how he got there or why. No memory of the last one thousand years. Finn and Jake don't know about his backstory since that happens in season three. Simon is carried by a snowman out of the ice kingdom where he breaks down in the plains. Finn, of course, finds him and is ecstatic to meet another human. Completely missing the fact that this small child is, in fact, the Ice King, Finn declares to help this boy no matter what. That promise soon becomes difficult when people hear about the second human in Ooo, and whatever effect that's keeping him young starts to wear off. (Marceline comes to visit and has a heart attack)

3.) Adventure Falls AU: AT x GF baybee!! Seventeen year old Stanley Pines hops on the Stan O' War and sets sail when he's kicked out. Unfortunately, that boat is nowhere near sea worthy, and all it takes for him to go overboard is one sudden (magical) storm. But, miraculously, Stan doesn't die. He washes up on Ooo, the island of misfits. Where there's daddy issues galore and punching things and getting gold is a legitimate career. He's found on the shore by none other than Finn, who asks if he's okay and if a dungeon adventure would soothe his worries. Stan accepts, because that sounds awesome, and they maybe date. For the next ten years, Stanley is a professional hero. He travels with Finn, he lives in a tower with tons of gold, he's respected, adored, and has made a family for himself. Ooo has a habit of forcing traumatic therapy onto to people, so Stan gets (read: is forced) to work his issues out. And then, somehow, he gets a postcard from his brother.

4.) Young Pups AU: Jake's kids grow up fast- but not that fast. He stays with lady for a few episodes being Dad and when the Pups are old enough, go visit Finn and Jermaine. Also Jermaine is there when the pups are born that always bothered me in canon like what the fuck. This whole AU results in Jake the Dad being a better father than in canon, because he actually has time to make mistakes and learn from them. He sometimes shapeshifts into one of those baby carriers but suited for five kids instead of one. Finn and Jermaine fight for best uncle privileges. Finn is considerably more awesome but Jermaine's got magic junk and juicy stories about Jake. So far the votes are: FINN: Jake Jr, T.V.  JERMAINE: Kim Kil Whan, Charlie. Viola remains undecided.

4.) Evilgreen AU: Evergreen was evil. His idea to make the crown to stop the comet was actually a cover story to take control of all the elements and freeze everything. Of course the same thing happens here as it did in canon, Gunther gets the crown and wishes to *be* evergreen. This is bad. Very bad, so bad in fact, that things get FUnKy. A couple eons later, Simon gets the crown as per canon, and then things start to slide downhill. Since the crown is significantly worse, Simon tries to get rid of it. No amount of magic pull is going to get him to put on the eldritch hat. It teleports back. When things go to shit, the crown tells him he's got two options: He can either live, or he can live unwillingly. This all coalesces in super angst and mild horror as Simon has to fight off evil urges and somehow keep both he and Marceline safe. Things start looking up, though, when he summons Hunson Abadeer.

5.) Nightmare Therapy AU: Simon, now himself post canon, has some funky nightmares. Problem is: he's due for a visit from the cosmic owl due to some mystical bureaucratic bs. If that were to happen, Simon's dreams of Golb and Orgalorg and the world ending and everyone dying and maze would come true, without the veil of metaphoric junk dreams are known for (also due to bureaucratic bs). So, Simon gets a dream therapist. An OC, probably, that would fight off his nightmares when they came and talk to him about his issues.

6.) High School AU: Except they're all still magic and crap. Finn's a jock that's part of the LDnD club(Literally Dungeons and Dragons), Jake's got a job at a pancake place and hosts the Card Wars clubs on Wednesdays, Jermaine's in college and their parents were still detectives/demon hunters. PB is preppy/nerdy girl with weird fucking family and is absolutely a mad scientist. Marceline is still a demon/vamp (vampire biker gang, they all died, deaths pending) and her uncle is Simon. Simon is a history teacher whose ex wife might be an eldritch abomination (the students wonder, but there are no answers)((simon says cryptic things every so often that are the subject of much ridicule, but he's a nice guy)). Ooo High has all of the AT characters in some shape or form. Tree trunks is the lunchlady, Mr Pig is a janitor. Lemongrab is just there. LSP(Q?) is a teacher because that's hilarious. Hunson is dead along with Marceline's mom because fuck hunson. Magic Man is a hobo that snuck onto campus and can't be chased off (his brother is the superintendent, Glob). there's a lot more but that's for a different word doc.

7.) Back to the Future AU: So PB fucks around with time travel, right? For science. She gets sent back in time a thousand years, before the war. Now, she's a pink lady who can shoot jelly beans from her hands, of course needs to lay low. And of course she needs to get home, but she's in a Futurama situation where she only has one type of time machine; the one that can go into the past. Not to mention her own time machine got busted on her way there, so she's double screwed. But, she remembers something. There is an individual (two, actually) that knows about time travel in this time period. She knows him, and he's likely to help her if she plays her card right. She needs to find Simon and get back to her own time, preferably without dooming herself in the process. (perhaps she tries to steal the notes Simon has, and Simon's completely oblivious, except Betty can smell trouble from a mile away and immediately notices some pink woman trying to steal books and she goes ham. Perhaps she goes ham in such a way that Simon doesn't notice. Perhaps this goes on for seven acts.)

8.) Bread and Butter AU: Bella Noche during the episode Betty creates a huge black cube that engulfs all of Wizard City. This box acts as a cage and prevents Wizards from escaping the magic purge. Simon is unable to bring Betty back from the past, and he's fading fast. In a desperate attempt to stop things from escalating, Simon chugs a bottle of anti-magic like a fucking god. He gets through the cube that surrounds Bella Noche and knocks their lights out. He passes out, and when he comes to, the anti-magic he consumed as merged with him. This is because of a simple rule: Magic sticks to magic, anti-magic sticks to anti-magic. And since humans have always had just a little bit of anti -magic present within them, humans and anti-magic go together like bread and butter (badumtish) ((I have actually written a fanfic about this, you can find it here))

9.) Swapped AU: Through various shenanigans Ice King's and Magic Man's powers gets swapped. These shenanigans somehow land them in space as well. This happens before Magic Man's trial. The swapping of their powers results in Simon getting his memory back. It also gives Magic Man the Ice Crown, unfortunately for him though, it seems to hate him. Simon's glad to back, but quickly realizes one issue: He's still crazy. So the pair try to make it back to Ooo. MM needs his powers to swap himself with some other shmuck so he doesn't croak when his trial comes, but Simon's made it clear he isn't giving his powers up without a fight. The pair starts off rocky, neither trusting the other, but space trouble forces them to work together. Simon's a nice enough guy he wouldn't leave someone to die and MM really needs Simon alive so it works out. A weird friendship forms, and they learn get along. Just a couple of crazy space wizards. Then the crown is destroyed. MM is freed from the crown's control, and he's freed from magic. He gets his sanity back, just in time for his trial.

that’s all I’ve got for now!

[crouton-knight]

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!

It's been a while since I've done this so here we go! Titles under the cut.

Chaptered fics

Arrhythmia (ch. 2) MadoHomu 0/2500

The Curse of House Carnall (2nd letter) 881/??

Mellifairies species doc, 1950/??

raze the sky in engine fire (ch. 13) SolKat 2324/2500

I'll Set You Up Against The Stars (ch. 2) DaveRose 1811/2500

Cascade (rewrite) (ch. 1) Sollux-centric idk 1779/2500

Private Relations and Resources (ch. 1) variousKat 1704/2500

The Theater of Dr. Zhuang (ch 2: City of Gold) DaveKat 1466/2500

Helter-Skelter (ch. 5) (DaveKat) 1289/2500

we daren't go a-hunting/for fear of little men (ch. 3) EriFefKat, 1211/2500

An Unfortunate Honor: Bearing, Duty, And Other Troubles (ch. 15) Karnaya 1198/2500

On Monsters Fair And Fearsome (ch. 3) 950/2500

Alternia Shuffle (ch. 7) DaveKat 812/2500

space cowboy disaster zone (ch. 8) DaveKat 797/2500

Jade (ch. 1) (working title) 710/2500

Stranger Stars and Suns (ch. 6) various 576/2500

Blood Worship (ch. 3) variousKat 509/2500

Danse Macabre (ch. 5) DaveKat 158/3000

Gardens of Coral and Pearl (ch. 10) EriDirk 110/2500

The Menagerie (ch. 9) various, primarily EquiKat 0/2500

Skaia City: Underground (ch. 4) gen 0/2500

Straight on 'til morning (ch. 1/5) variousKat 0/1000

Rabbit Heart (ch. 1) variousKat 0/2500

One-shot fics

Brother Lover: My Elder Bro Is A Pervert Loser And I Think I Might Be One Too!? (BroDave) (3422/5000)

Lawyer-in-a-box: Defrost 5 Minutes (space trucker, Dual/OC) 1042/5000

evening star (self indulgent OC/OC helmsman thing) PORTHOLES ZINE (UNKNOWN DATE) 0/3500

Star Shanty (steampunk, RoseMary) 4695/??

Matches and Tar (steampunk, SolKat) 4613/??

Equinox - (DirkJohn fantasystuck) 2270/??

Daddy AF (mixed world, DadKat) 2187/??

Price of an Empire, or, A Mutant MechPilot Gets Fucked (space opera, variousKat) 1095/??

The Oddities of Jake English (horror, DirkJake) 857/??

[untitled beach episode] (Earth C, DaveKat) 621/??

Let's Get Physical (kinky EquiNepKat) 539/??

go fuck yourself (time travel, Karkat selfcest) 0/??

Milk-Slime Treatment (Marzipan - original series) 0/??

Lays of Legend (Marzipan - original series) 0/??

[themusicplayedherlife]

Some Sugar

Part 1: just keep breathin’

pairing: sugar daddy!steve rogers x reader characters: reader, steve rogers, cassandra jones (oc), selena (oc), bucky barnes, sam wilson word count: 3k+ warnings: angst, family issues, money problems summary: you need to just remember to breathe a/n: give me validation please and let me know what you think 

prev || all || next

There’s a steady stream of customers all night, nothing like a few nights ago, but it’s definitely better than it’s been for a while. While you want to be happy for Cassandra, your mind keeps going back to your Aunt Magdalena’s threats, most recently a note slipped under your door, that you thankfully found before Esmeralda could. 

It’s no wonder why your mom (and dad) kept communications with her to a minimum—which only adds to the mystery of why she went to her of all people for money.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice calls for your attention, it’s strong yet somehow nervous. When you look up to smile at him, you’re greeted by stormy, blue eyes illuminated by the lights behind you on the shelves and mirror. He’s handsome, alarmingly so with brown hair cascading down to the top of his broad shoulders—cheekbones sharp and chin dented right at the end and covered by mild scruff.

Holy fuck … what you wouldn’t give to spend a night with him. It’s been so long since...

Hey! You’re at work, and work means focusing!

You push your warring thoughts aside and manage your best customer service smile. “What can I get for you?”

“Three beers,” he says, eyes falling to the taps behind you, and with a quiet and unsure voice, he orders three Mirages. 

You smile reassuringly. “Good choice.” When he eyes you curiously, you explain, “Local brew.” You turn your back to him and grab the glasses for beer as Cassandra squeezes by you to reach the register at the end of the bar to charge a group.

You fill one of the glasses and set it aside while you absentmindedly fill up another, the sound of the soothing trumpets playing through the speakers washing over the bar. 

Eleven thousand dollars. How are you going to pay that much money in two months?

“You okay?” Cassandra asks, watching you carefully, eyes drifting to the glass in your hand.

You’re quick to switch to the final glass when you realize you’re about to overfill the second. With a tired smile you say, “I’m fine.”

She frowns, shaking her chocolate curls, but before she can say anything, someone saunters up to the bar and orders a drink. She gives you a look that says—I’m not done with you—and starts making the drink for the customer.

With the final glass filled, you spin on your heels to face the male that ordered the beers and are surprised to find he’s no longer alone—two men are flanking him.

They’re just as tall and wide as the brunette—a contrast of skin between them, the one on his left a beautiful shade of umber—dark and rich. Black hair short and buzzed, and a thin beard making his face seem slimmer than he appears to be, apple of his cheeks high and round when he smiles at something his companions say. Handsome in a simple white tee and black leather jacket.

The other man on his right is white, almost pink and peach with the low lighting of the bar, nothing like the tanned brunette between them. If his friends are handsome, he’s beautiful. Golden hair slicked back with a semi fade on the sides; muscles tightly wrapped and bounded by a blue Henley that you’re certain is a size too small; lashes, long and thick brush against his cheek bones; face clear of scruff and dark shadows; lips pink and pretty—something almost boyish in his smile that makes you crack a smile of your own.

Shit. You’d take any one of them home!

Three pairs of eyes land on you as you set down their beer, and you freeze, locking with blue eyes—bright and alarming, specks of hazel and greens around his iris making his eyes pop in the dark bar. Something flashes within them, and there’s something familiar about them that you can’t quite place.

What is it?

Cassandra makes a noise from beside you, like a hum and a snicker and you realize you might’ve been staring at him for far too long. Shit.

Clearing your throat, you drag your gaze to the brunette between them and smile politely. “Here are the first two, let me just get the last one.” A sleek, black card comes into view after placing down the final glass, and you take it, a little embarrassed. “Open tab or closed?”

“Keep it open,” the blonde says, a familiarity directed at you that has you raising your eyebrows, but you ignore it. “Just in case.”

“Of course.” You don’t really look at him or his friends after accepting the card, scurrying away to swipe his card to make sure it’s good, and input his first order under the last name on his card—Rogers. Storing the card for the meantime, you go back to cleaning the bar.

“You sure you’re okay?” Cassandra tries again. 

“Cass,” you warn with a sigh, eyes trailing over to the men that have decided to settle on the bar-stools instead of an empty table—the three too busy engaged in their own conversation to listen in on yours.

“As your boss and friend, I have every right to worry about you,” she says, resting an elbow on the bar and leaning forward. “Your head has been up in the clouds lately. And more than usual. Did something happen to your mom? Is she okay? Is her arm not healing properly?”

“She’s as okay as a chemotherapy patient can be,” you snap harshly, rubbing at the bar fiercely. She blinks at you surprised and doesn’t retort—shame immediately creeps up on you. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean—“

“Hey. Hey. I know,” she affirms gently. “It hasn’t been easy for you, but you know I’m here if you ever want to talk.” She makes a gesture to herself and your eyebrows knit.

The glasses clink as you put them away. “Thanks. She’s getting better,  but I’m not ready. Not yet.” 

She nods solemnly. “I understand, but I’m here whenever you are. You hear?” she says, pointing a finger at you before taking the empty tray to the back.

You watch her leave with a sigh. You really shouldn’t be taking out your frustrations on others, you mentally scold yourself. 

As you continue wiping down glasses, your phone vibrates in your back pocket, slipping it out discreetly, a notification of a new message appears on the lock screen.

Selena⛱☀️: Went over the docs. You free to talk?

Just those simple words are enough to steal your breath away; dread filling your bones. She didn’t add an emoji, you realize; no emoji usually meant trouble.

Your grip tightens around your phone.

Skyscraper: gimme min

Stuffing it back into your pocket, you look around the semi empty bar—the group in the back, the three men at the bar, a couple by the entrance. Biting your lip, you look back at the door Cassandra slipped through, cautiously. Your phone vibrates again, and it’s enough to push you towards it.

Twisting the knob slowly, you poke your head in and find Cassandra near the merch taking inventory, and your coworker, Matt cleaning up the small kitchen by Cassandra’s office.

Rapping on the wood, the two drag their attention to you. “Cass, do you mind if I make a quick call?”

She blinks, a worried frown stretching itself across her ebony skin and her shoulders tense. You shake your head when she raises an eyebrow. 

“Personal,” you tell her. “Kind of.”

Her shoulders drop and a small smile replaces her frown. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll man the front while you’re away.”

“Thank you.”

You slip into the small hallway connecting the bar to the two gender-neutral bathrooms for customers. You lean against the locked door leading into Cassandra’s office, never used since you started working here, and stare at the door leading out into the dirty alleyway. 

The phone rings against your ear, the faint music from the bar encasing the small hallway too, it’s soothing in a strange way, with its slow beat and sensual saxophone solo.

“Hello?” Selena answers, a loose mix of a Californian and Australian accent seeping into her words. She’s only been living in California for a little over a year and she’s already picked up the accent faster than she did yours—traitor.

“How’s the Californian sun?”

“Golden,” she answers readily, a grin apparent in her voice. “Better than New York’s, that’s for certain. Though, not quite like home.” Keys clicking in the background float to your ear. “I looked over the documents—“

You straighten, lifting your thumb to bite your skin. “And?” 

She hesitates, clothes rustle and she takes in a deep breath that you try not to read into. “It’s all legit.” Fuck. “Usually, we can exploit mistakes or loopholes, but your aunt was completely thorough with her agreement.” Your head hits the wooden door. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you want to hear.”

“It’s fine.”

“Look, I have a thousand dollars saved up right now—“ You’re quick to stop her by calling her name, but she won’t allow you to interrupt her. “And I could probably get another $500 soon—“

You clench your eyes closed. “You don’t have to do that, Sel. I could always get another loan from the bank and--“

“Will you shut up and let me finish? I know your pride won’t let you accept my money for free.” You slide down the door, head hanging as you listen to her. “You can always pay me back, at your terms. Ten, twenty a month, a year, fuck, I don’t care. Whatever makes you feel better. But I’m not going to let you take out another loan! You’re still paying off your mom’s hospital bill and that dumb loan you got for Esmeralda’s school fees!”

“Selena, you really don’t have to—“

 “I know I don’t have to,” she snaps harshly, voice full of tough love. “I want to. You and your family helped me through a tough time and I want to help you guys too. I’m in a place where I can help, and if you won’t accept my help, then fuck you, I’ll tell your sister and I’ll send her the money.”

You choke back a sob.

“Listen,” she starts, her voice soft as you hold back sniffles, “1500 isn’t a lot, or even half of the money your aunt is demanding, but it’s a start. And I have a plan, okay? I asked Camille and Jason to whip up a new contract, using the 1500 as a down payment of sorts. I can’t guarantee it’ll work, but we’re going to negotiate with her, fight for it. It’s not over yet.”

“God, what would I do without you?”

Her voice cracks as she scoffs a laugh. “Good thing you don’t have to find out, huh?”

The music fades into the background, loud laughter cuts through the noise. Cassandra’s voice rings out loudly, announcing last call. “I feel so hopeless, Sel,” you admit to her, words laden with grief and exhaustion, and in some ways guilt. Guilt that you can’t do more for your family. Guilt that you didn’t do more to stop JC from leaving. Guilt that you’re such a horrible daughter and sister.

“Oh, darl’...”

“The hospital bills, Esme’s school, even the bare necessities—it was hard to scrape by, and now this? I just—why can’t we catch a break? Esme doesn’t deserve this. Fuck, Mom doesn’t deserve this!” Maybe if you had fought harder—tried harder, none of this would be happening.

“You don’t either.”

She might be right, but it does nothing to ease the guilt that’s slowly starting to grow in your chest. “I’m sorry, Selena. I should let you go. I’ve asked enough of you already.“

“Hey! None of that, okay? I should be the one apologizing  for not being there to hand you tissues and force feed you those ice lollies you like so much.” You let out a wet snort that she mimics. “I want you to know, no, I need you to know, that even if I'm miles away, I’m always here for you if you ever need me. No matter what.”

You rub the heel of your hand against your eye. “I know. Thank you, Sel.”

“You’re welcome.”

With whispered goodbyes and cheesy “I love you’s” you hang up. Curling up, you cover your face with your hands, shuddering breath escaping your lungs as you will yourself not to cry.

“Ma’am?” It’s soft, careful and almost stern like, kind of like Captain America from the hospital. “Are you—are you all right?” No, not kind of. It is Captain America from the hospital!

Your eyes snap up, heat licking your skin at the embarrassment of having been caught crying twice by—eyebrows knead together as they take in the blonde costumer with the black card that can certainly not be your Captain America… right? 

Rogers. Rogers… Roge—fucking shit. Wait a minute! He’s the real Captain America? You’ve been caught crying by Captain fucking America? Not once, but twice? That’s fucking worse! “It’s you… you’re really… Captain America?”

He smiles, it’s kind and sweet—warmth. “You remember me.”

Of course you remember him! You just can’t believe he’s the real Captain America, history book figure, war hero Steve Rogers. You feel like an absolute idiot for not having noticed!

“Kind of hard to forget when you caught me ugly sobbing in a hospital courtyard,” you find yourself quipping back as you make to stand, quickly rubbing away your tears. “Thank you for the handkerchief, by the way. I didn’t bring it with me—“ Not that you were expecting to see him again, anyway, but you had been carrying it around just in case.

“Don’t worry about it. I told you I have more at home.” Heat crawls up your neck—because of course he does. He’s Steven Rogers, Captain America. An Avenger. A loaded Avenger in every sense of the word. He chuckles, ducking his head, but then he sobers up, smile replaced by a small frown. “Are you okay—I heard—I heard,” he pauses to swallow and you realize that he’s heard more than your crying. Fuck. “Crying. I heard you crying. Again,” he adds the last bit like a second thought.

He’s a shit liar, but you still appreciate his effort. “Fine. I’m fine, thank you for worrying about me,” you tell him softly, trying to push a smile forward. Probably looks more like a grimace. “You probably have a lot more important things to worry about than me.”

Just as you have more important things to worry about.

Peggy Lee’s voice fills the hallway with her soft, haunting crooning—“I was always a fool for my Johnny,” she sings and it jerks you. For just a moment you forget where you are; you’re suddenly eight years old again, watching your mom teach your brother how to play the guitar as your dad records them with the handheld camera. 

Your mom looks at you and asks you to sing along with them, but you refuse, embarrassed that she’d even suggest you should sing! You can’t sing! But she and your teasing dad somehow coax you to screech the lyrics along with your brother’s playing, and by the end of it, you’re completely overheated and embarrassed that your dad got it all on tape, even your impromptu performance of dancing around the living room like a maniac.

But as soon as the memory comes, it’s gone. Fading to the deepest pit of your mind as you once more find yourself in the small hallway of your workplace, Steve Rogers’ frown growing deeper, lines making themselves at home on his forehead as he watches you contemplatively. “Do you—Would you like to exchange numbers?”

His request comes completely out of left field, it’s practically enough to shock whatever tears were still threatening to fall to dry up. It’s a welcome distraction. “Why?” falls from your parted lips.

He scratches the back of his head, ears turning pink as he turns away. “I just thought—uh—too forward?”

A little, you want to say, but your inner Cassandra and Selena are calling you an idiot, urging you to give him your number. Should you? You’re not going to lose anything by giving it to him. You’re probably not going to gain anything from it either. But how many times will you ever be able to say that an Avenger asked for your number? That Steve Rogers asked for your number? “Okay.”

His head snaps up and something within his eyes stir, you don’t know what it is or even come close to understanding it, but it sends a weird hum through your body that you try to ignore. Noticing your staring, his melts and gives way to his earlier softer look—kind and warm. “Here.”  He gives you his phone after unlocking it and you take it, inputting your number and name before handing it back to him. He says your name aloud—and you physically resist the urge to react to him saying your name—and his lips tilt upward. “Nice to officially meet you.”

“Hey, Steve, we should—“ Steve moves his head to look over his shoulder as you lean to the side to find who you’ve come to the realization must be another Avenger—Falcon. His earthy eyes move between you and Steve, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Am I interrupting something?”

Your lips roll into your mouth to hide the grimace you’re mostly likely sporting. “Ah, no, we—I was just—thank you again, um, Cap? Steve?”

“Steve,” he tells you, smiling reassuringly in your direction before turning to Sam with a semi serious expression. “I’ll be there in a moment, Sam.“

“It’s fine,” you interject, moving your gaze from him and his friend to stare over their shoulders’ and out into the warm lit bar. “I need to get back to work, anyway.”

“Right, of course,” Steve says, stepping aside to let you through. You smile at him briefly but before you can pass by him, he stops you with a shy smile. “You wouldn’t mind if I call you?”

You falter slightly, taking you a moment to recover, but once your muscles relax, you flash him an unguarded smile. “No, I wouldn’t.”

[mikeisthricedeceased]

Liquor and Lawman - One

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x OC

Word Count: ~2.5k

Two

Warnings: Smut 18+, D/s, oral (f receiving), Daddy kink, fingering, overstimulation

A/N: Can’t tell your coworkers that you’re dating an agent from a rival organization that they don’t even know exists! Boy, has this thing evolved since I had the initial idea for it.

Summary: Returning to New York after a mission, Jack decides to stop by a gala before heading home. Holli isn’t too happy with him when he gets to the apartment, but he makes it up to her.

~*~*~*~

“Hey, Doc? You’ve got one approaching. Not one of the targets.”

She set her drink down on the bar, staying carefully nonchalant as she prepared to turn down whoever was coming over to make conversation.

Al scoffed in her earpiece. “Looks like Bandit must’ve left Carrie.”

Fucking Pinkies. She let out a sigh, grip tightening on the stem of her glass as she waited.

A figure sidled up right next to her at the bar and she glanced over, offering a polite smile.

Yep. There’s Bandit, hat and all. Oh, she was going to kill him.

He grinned right back, tipping his hat slightly. “Now, I must beg your pardon, but I was wondering what you’re drinking there. I’m fairly new to the world of fancy cocktails.”

She swirled her glass slightly as she looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “It’s a Manhattan. One of my personal favorites.”

He chuckled. “I suppose that’s fitting. And what’s in it?”

“It’s usually some bitters, whiskey, sweet vermouth, and a cherry,” she said bringing the drink up for a sip.

“I’m used to drinking whiskey straight. Best way to enjoy it, if I do say so myself.”

She shrugged lightly. “I like my whiskey with a little bit of flourish.”

He leaned an elbow on the bar, eyes shining with amusement. “Is that right?”

“We’ve got one on the move, Doc. Heading toward the west hall,” Al said in her ear.

She glanced over his shoulder as if noticing something before offering an apologetic smile and touching a hand to his arm. “I am so sorry, but I’ve been waiting for a friend and I think she just walked in. She’ll get lost in here if I don’t go grab her. Please excuse me.”

He waved a hand, giving her a nod and one last smile. “Of course.”

She picked up her glass and made her way through the crowd, walking toward the west hall.

~*~*~*~

She paced back and forth in the living room of the apartment, a glass of wine in her hand. Irritation burned through her blood, even while her heart was brimming with joy.

When she heard a key in the door, she paused and set her glass down, turning to face the door, arms folded and expression pinched as he walked in. 

He met her with a beaming grin, setting his suitcase on the ground and a bottle of what could only be champagne on the counter, his hat quickly joining it. “How’s my sweet Peaches?” he greeted, sauntering over to her with open arms.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” she snapped, taking a step away from him and fixing him with a scowl.

He stopped, resting his hands on his hips. “Well, I was thinking I’d be getting some sugar,” he drawled.

Her eyes narrowed. “You know that’s not what I mean, Jack,” she growled. “You said you’d meet me at home after your mission debrief.”

“Had the debrief on the plane,” he said with a shrug.

She raised an eyebrow, lips pursed. “So you decided to attend an art museum gala right off the plane, jetlag be damned?”

Grinning lazily, he walked over to her. She didn’t step back this time, letting him place his hands at her waist. “You know I wouldn’t let a thing like jetlag keep me from seeing you as soon as I could, Peaches,” he told her.

“I was working, Jack!” she exclaimed, stabbing a finger into his chest. “We can’t be seen together in a place like that, especially when the Pinkies are actively monitoring the cameras to warn me about shit. It’ll be months before Al shuts up about how Burt Reynolds tried to hit on me!”

He pouted and squeezed her hips, eyes softening. “But Holli, baby. I missed you.”

“No! No, you don’t get to look at me like that when I’m pissed at you, Jack.” She shook her head at him. “This is about us staying safe and not being stupid. You can’t approach me when I’m in the field!”

He sighed, gently pulling her closer. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” she said with a huff.

He pressed a light kiss to her lips. “I did miss you,” he murmured.

Face warming slightly, she kept her arms crossed. “Mm-hmm.”

“I love you, Peaches,” he crooned, taking a slow step around her so that he could pull her back against his chest. “I couldn’t wait to get back home to you.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, crossed arms tightening.

He nuzzled his face into the side of her neck. “I about lost my mind when I saw you in this dress, baby,” he whispered, brushing his lips over her skin as he curled his fingers into the elegant golden fabric, slowly inching the hem up from where it grazed the floor. “All I could think about was my sweet Peaches with her pretty dress all hiked up,” the tip of his tongue swept along the pulse just beneath her jaw, “while she sat on Daddy’s face.”

“You ruin this dress and I’ll ruin you,” she warned, her voice a touch too high.

He chuckled, breath warm on her bare shoulder. “Is that a promise? I ain’t about to complain if you want to take over tonight, Peaches.” 

The hem of her dress brushed just above her knees and she let herself lean into him.

“But, if I’m not mistaken, I do believe that it’s my turn to take the lead. Hmm?” He smiled, mustache tickling her lightly.

She loosed a shuddering breath.

Her dress was hiked up dangerously high and he gathered all the fabric in one hand, freeing the other to sweep, warm and broad, along her bare thigh.

Holli gasped. Uncrossing her arms, she reached for his hand with one of hers, the other flying up to tangle in his hair.

He ran his fingers along her damp panties just as she wrapped a hand around his wrist. She gripped him tight but didn’t try to move him. Those fingers dragged over her covered pussy before pressing up against the bundle of nerves that set her alight.

“Please, Daddy,” she moaned, thighs squeezing together around his hand.

He took his hand away for a moment, making her whine softly, and slipped it down the front of her underwear, letting a finger glide into her aching core.

She pulled at his hair, eyes sliding shut as his finger slowly curled. “More, Daddy. Please, I need more.”

“That’s my girl,” he rumbled, easing another finger into her and curling them together, slowly pumping. “Already so wet for me.” He put the slightest bit of pressure against her clit with the heel of his palm and kept it there until she was squirming.

“Daddy,” she groaned. “Harder, please. It’s not enough.”

A growl rose from deep in his chest. “You’re gonna take whatever Daddy gives you.”

She tugged his hair and tried to press his hand more firmly against her clit. “Harder, Daddy,” she whined.

Taking all pressure off her clit, he slid a third finger into her.

She cried out at the stretch of it, legs trembling.

“What did I say?” he chastised, letting go of her dress and wrapping an arm tight around her waist, three fingers still buried inside her. “You can’t even listen to simple instructions and now you want to start making demands? That ain’t how this works, darlin’.”

Her feet were suddenly lifted off the floor as he straightened, a shriek of surprise tearing out of her as his fingers continued pumping while he carried her toward the bedroom.

“I came home looking for some sugar, and you didn’t want to give me any,” he drawled low next to her ear. “But don’t worry, baby, I’m more than happy to take it from this sweet little pussy.”

She whimpered softly. The rough stretch of three thick fingers was sure to leave an ache between her legs in the morning, and the lack of stimulation on her throbbing clit was making it hard to do anything other than try to squeeze her thighs together in a feeble attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

Jack marched into the bedroom and dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed, her legs pressing together tight at the lose of his touch as she rolled off of her stomach and looked back at him.

“Daddy, I—”

He interrupted with a broad palm on her chest, pressing her flat on her back as he parted her thighs around his waist and caged her against the mattress. His mouth was on hers and he gripped a wrist in each of his hands, pinning them down. 

She gasped against his mouth and he took that as an invitation to let his tongue explore her, running along her lips before delving in. Her tongue still held the dry tang of the wine she’d been drinking and he groaned softly, mouth slanting against hers to press deeper as he ground his hips into hers.

A swirling heat pulled taut with each brush of denim against her still covered clit and she whined high and desperate into his mouth.

His hold on her wrists tightened before he let them go. “Keep ‘em right there, understand?”

Holli nodded vigorously. “Yes, Daddy.”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs, tossing them off to the side and spreading her legs wide to give one last slow grind against her hot cunt.

Her eyes squeezed shut and she grasped at the duvet, a rough moan slipping out of her.

He drew back, patting her thigh. “Scoot, Peaches. Daddy needs to lay down before you can sit on his face.”

Breath hitching, she moved out of the way, watching as he slipped his jacket off and tossed it onto the bench at the foot of the bed. 

The bed dipped when he sat down and tugged his boots off before swinging his legs up. He got a firm grip on her thigh as he eased down onto his back, pulling her toward him. He was beaming. “I’ll take that sugar now, darlin’.”

She gathered the skirt of her dress around her hips and moved up closer to his head. Straddling his chest, she gave him a sly grin as he shifted her thighs wider and pulled her down to his mouth.

His tongue scorched through her folds, drawing a needy groan from her, her fingers diving into his hair. It was all slow, leisurely licks along the length of her pussy and warm hands squeezing her thighs, the fabric of her dress shifting over her skin wherever he let his fingers explore.

A hand left his hair and braced against the headboard when he lapped up into her, parting her with his tongue. His rumbling moans burned through her, settling heavily in her pussy and making her dizzy with arousal.

“Always so sweet for me, Peaches,” he drawled, turning his head just enough to nip at her thigh before bringing his attention to her clit. He circled it with his tongue, flicking across it gently.

“Oh, yes, Daddy,” she breathed, fist curling tight in his hair. She ground down on his mouth, desperately seeking out more friction.

He sucked her clit into his mouth and her lips parted in a silent cry of pleasure. Arms wrapping around her thighs, he held her flush against him as he let his teeth graze the bundle of nerves, a high keen forcing its way out of her throat. She squirmed, simultaneously trying to get closer to and escape the sensation, but his hold on her kept her right where she was. 

Her insides pulled taut, a blissful ache down deep that had built up for what felt like so long that the release overwhelmed her. She came with a sharp “Fuck, Daddy!” and a white-knuckled grip on the top of the headboard as the muscles in her thighs quivered.

But then Jack wasn’t letting her shift away, his lips still wrapped around her clit. She whined as the stimulation stopped easing her down from her first orgasm and started building up into another one instead, the pleasure cutting up through her whole body.

Her auburn hair was stuck to the back of her neck, the bodice of her dress clinging to her sweaty skin. Strong fingers dug into her thighs and she had to grip the headboard with both hands to stay balanced as a second orgasm crashed into her. Her legs were starting to shake.

Her hands flew back down to pull at his hair when he didn’t let up, trying to push him away, whimpering as the drag of his tongue on her clit shot pain all through her. “Stop it, Daddy! Please!” Tears burned behind her eyes as she looked down at him, tugging his hair sharply.

His eyes opened, fixing her with a dark look. “Take what Daddy gives you,” he growled against her pussy.

She shut her eyes tight, a sob leaving her as she uselessly flexed her legs, trying to push herself away from his mouth as pleasure-pain twisted deep in her cunt.

A broken cry tumbled out of her as she tensed up, sparks flying behind her closed eyelids. Her orgasm brought a rush of tingling numbness to her whole lower half and Jack finally released her, letting her slump off of him. 

She panted against the bed, eyes half-shut, not really caring if her makeup was ruining the duvet as she came down from the overwhelming high. Blearily, she watched him sit up and look at her, trying to catch his own breath, face wet with her arousal.

He gestured to her dress, brow furrowing slightly. “You need any help getting outta that?”

She squinted at him. “You’re such an asshole,” she managed to huff.

His brows rose dramatically as he brought a hand to his heart in mock hurt. “Now, why would you say a thing like that?”

“I can’t feel my pussy or my legs and I need to take a shower,” she griped, glaring at him accusatively. 

He relaxed into an easy grin. “I guess I’ll just have to join you so I can hold you up,” he said, reaching out to her and pulling her toward the edge of the bed by her legs.

A hand grasped his tie suddenly, yanking him forward until she captured his mouth with her own, tasting herself and reaching down to palm the erection in his jeans.

He planted a hand on either side of her, groaning softly against her lips.

Holli drew back slightly. “I missed you, too,” she whispered with the hint of a smile.

His grin widened and he pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of her mouth, pulling her tight against him and burying his still slick face against her shoulder, making her laugh.

She wrapped one arm around him, the other still between them as she rubbed a hand over his cock. She pressed her lips to his ear. “Now, bring me to the shower so I can show you how we do things over at Lawman,” she purred.

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

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Taglist:

@zeldasayer  

~ Mike

[minyoongleschimjoongles]

Windfall 1

Pairing(s): Poly!BTS X OC, Sugar Daddy! BTS X OC

Warnings: Implied sexual situations

Note: In this fic, Zara can’t speak very much Korean. Until the language barrier is closed, Bold Text indicates that a person or an app is speaking in Korean.

Masterlist

The way Seokjin tells the story, the day he and the boys met Zara was foretold for centuries. He distinctly remembers the clouds parting to reveal the shining sun, and a choir of angels singing praises to the heavens. The moment her green eyes met Namjoon’s dark ones, the world stopped spinning for a noticeable moment, then her eyes swept over the rest of them, and their fates were sealed forever.

Jin’s full of shit.

The truth of the matter is this; the sky was downpouring, the clouds inky grey above pedestrians, locals and tourists as they ran for cover into stores and under awnings. It seemed to Zara like they’d never see the sun again.

The small coffee shop she was sitting in was overcrowded, but the wifi was free, and the Chai Tea was cheap, a blessing to Zara’s depressingly thin wallet. On the laptop in front of her was the essay that was due at midnight, the half-edited blog post scheduled to go up in two days, and the raw footage for her latest youtube video. When you were a content creator in college, multitasking was key.

Jin’s “chorus of angels” was actually the squealing of a group of prepubescent girls that had caught sight of the Boys as they moved through the shop with their coffee orders. Polite as they were, they were taking photos with the fans as they passed, though Big Hit would surely yell at them when they find out.

Zara was paying no attention to the commotion, eyes on her computer screen, listening to the audio of her video through the chunky headphones she wore. Had she been paying attention, Zara might have been able to prevent the disaster that occurred right at that moment.

Namjoon, still smiling at the young fan he’d just taken a selfie with, made to take another step towards the door. His foot caught on a table leg, his long, clumsy limbs pinwheeling in an attempt to recover his balance. The coffee was released in favor of the edge of Zara’s table, his eyes widening in horror as they followed the downward trajectory of the beverage, straight onto the keys of Zara’s computer. The screen flickered once, twice, then blinked out completely.

The world did go still when Zara’s eyes met Namjoon’s for the first time, but that’s because of the fury that surrounded the small young woman.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi’s words were carried with a nervous exhale. Zara’s angry gaze swept over him briefly before going over the other five young men, before finally settling back on Namjoon.

“What,” she reached up to pull her headphones off her head, “the fuck?!”

“Oh, shit!” Namjoon straightened to his full height, grabbing for napkins to sop up the coffee before it began to drip into her lap. “Fuck, I am so sorry!”

Zara stood quickly, and despite being half a foot shorter than he was, the look on her face made him take a step back. He watched as she began to fiddle with her laptop, trying to get it to turn back on, to no avail.

“Oh, no,” she whined softly when she realized how screwed she actually was. “Oh, no, no, no!” She hung her head and brought her hands up to her face, thinking over her options. Her essay and her blog post weren’t an issue; anything she had to type, she did in Google Docs before submitting or posting. She didn’t need to worry about the unedited video footage either; her personal channel was nowhere near as popular as her family’s, so there was no uproar if supply didn’t meet demand, and her “fans” would understand. But the memories, and the photos she’d saved on her computer couldn’t be replaced, and to be honest, neither could the computer. At least, not for a long time. She quite simply couldn’t afford it on her meager part-time retail salary.

Namjoon reached out to gently brush her shoulder with his fingertips. “I’m so, so sorry. Are you okay?”

Becoming aware of the whispers and the many eyes on her as she had a quiet meltdown, Zara stepped away from him, shoving her ruined laptop into her bag. Namjoon watched her with guilty eyes, casting a pleading look at his brothers over his shoulder. Taehyung, the epitome of ‘no help’ shrugged his shoulders. Namjoon turned back to see Zara had shoved the rest of her stuff into her bag, leaving her half-finished tea on the table.

“I can make it up to you,” he said, as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and made for the door.

“Look man, don’t worry about it, okay?” Zara’s voice shook as she called over her shoulder. “I gotta go, I gotta get out of here.”

Namjoon was quick to follow her out the door, his long legs carrying him over the distance between them in record time.

“Hey, hey!” he looked down as he matched her stride. Zara’s eyes stayed on the sidewalk, her hand tightening on the strap of her bag. “Come on, let me make it up to you.”

Zara’s cheeks burned, and she glared up at him.

“Oh my gosh, you’re not going to use this as an opportunity to hit on me, are you?”

To her surprise, Namjoon laughed, bringing out the most adorable dimples Zara had ever seen. “No, I’m going to use it as an opportunity to get you a new laptop.”

That stopped her in her tracks, and Namjoon grinned at her wide green eyes. “That’s better, Speedy. Hi. I’m Kim Namjoon.”

***

“How about this one?”

It had taken Namjoon the better part of an hour to convince Zara to agree to letting him buy her a computer and to come out to lunch with him and the boys, swearing up and down that they weren’t going to kidnap and murder her. Now she sat in a huddle of attractive young men, Namjoon’s phone in her hand, scrolling through the laptops Amazon offered with a frown on her face.

Namjoon looked up from the book in his hand at the price of the laptop on the phone screen and shook his head.

“No way, pick a more expensive one.”

“A more expensive one?!”

Namjoon just shushed her, a small smirk on his face.

Zara gave the boys a few more options, none of them going over $200. Finally, Jimin sighed and snatched Namjoon’s phone out of her hand.

“If you’re going to be unreasonable, I’ll have to do it myself.” He scrolled back up to the top of the page, clicking on a Macbook. Though Zara didn’t understand his words, his actions spoke loudly enough for her to understand.

“No, hey, that’s way too much!” she cried, as he clicked, ‘Buy now.’ “I’m never going to be able to pay you back!”

He completely ignored her protests, completing his order. When he had confirmation that the deed was done, he spun around to face her. His eyes darted over her face, taking in the blush, the slackened jaw, the frustrated tears.

“I can’t afford-”

“We can afford,” Taehyung assured in broken English, taking up her hands and shaking her gently. 

Namjoon closed his book, accepting his phone back from Jimin, before fixing Zara with a smile. “Look, I messed up. You don’t owe me anything. Come on, Zara, don’t cry. I hate it when girls cry.”

“I’ll find a way to pay you back,” she promised, wiping her eyes. “It’s not right to let you spend so much money on me when you could certainly be using it on something more important.” Over Zara’s shoulder, Namjoon connected eyes with each of his bandmates, his brow arched high. Jin’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. It wasn’t every day that they met someone that didn’t know who they were. It was certainly refreshing.

“You don’t have to.”

“I’ll pay you back!”

Taehyung rubbed her arms again, and seeing that she wasn’t going to cry anymore, he let her go.

“Yeah, you can try, Speedy.” Namjoon said, “Come write your number down so we can let you know when your laptop arrives,” he paused, and his grin widened a little more. “By the way, this will be the opportunity we’ll take to hit on you, Pretty Girl.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she scoffed, but now she was smiling too.

“Oh, you haven’t met incorrigible.”

***

PJM: What are you doing right now?

Zara looked away from the paper notes in front of her, a tiny smile appearing when she saw Jimin’s initials pop up. Over the past week, the boys had stayed in contact, painstakingly Google-Translating every text to ask her questions about herself, telling her stories about themselves. Jin admitted they’d googled her when she told him about her family’s Youtube channel AHillofaRide, and she admitted she’d googled them too, as soon as she’d gotten home that first day. She’d been more than shocked to discover how famous they actually were, but it got a lot of the awkward stuff out of the way and she found herself grinning like a fool every time her phone buzzed with a message from one (or all) of them.

Zara: I’m cramming for my WWII History Midterm.

PJM: I thought you were in Art School, Z?

Zara: I am, but I’m double majoring in History.

PJM: That’s amazing, Zara, you’re amazing. Art and P.E. were always my favorites in school, but I guess History was okay too.

Zara: You’re a monster, History is the best. Stop lying to yourself.

PJM: Yes, Ma’am.

PJM: So, Speedy...

All the boys had taken to calling Zara by Namjoon’s initial nickname for her, and it had begun to make her heart flutter.

Zara: So, Jimin...

PJM: Your laptop’s here. Did you want to come pick it up from the arena, or did you want me to drop it off with you? I can come by now?

Zara glanced up from her phone screen to look at the messy floor of her dorm room. She and her roommates had had a study party the night before, and the floor was covered in pizza boxes, candy wrappers, soda cans and a mixture of dirty and clean clothes. She imagined much of their suite looked the same.

Zara: I don’t want to be a bother.

PJM: It's no bother. I’m just hanging around doing nothing right now, anyway.

PJM: You’d be doing me a favor, really.

PJM: I’m getting stir crazy.

Zara: Well, we wouldn’t want that. Can you give me 20 minutes before you leave?

PJM: Sure thing. See you soon, Speedy.

Zara slammed her notebook shut, bolting to her feet. She shot a quick message to her roommate, Ji-yoo (who, conveniently was originally from South Korea), and their suitemates Jane and Clara, letting them know she was having a guest over, that she was purging the disaster, getting only positivity in reply. Apparently it was about time she had a boy over.

She started with the pizza boxes, breaking them down and putting them aside to be recycled. She moved on to the garbage in the floor, gathering the wrappers and shoving them into the overflowing garbage can that she and Ji-yoo shared. She let out a grunt and scoured the top shelf of their closet for any garbage bags, letting out a victory screech when she found the roll of bags wedged between the shelf and the wall. The garbage was dumped and she moved on to the soda cans.

The clothes were a lost cause, so she tossed them all into the hamper to be dealt with later. She made the beds, folding blankets and fluffing pillows and tucking in the sheets, before moving on to their desks. Ji-yoo’s desk wasn’t awful, just a little cluttered with her notebooks and textbooks. Her makeup sat in an overflowing basket on the corner of her desk, but other than that, all Zara had to do was put some papers in the drawers. 

Her own desk was covered in pallets of paint and sketchbooks and pencils, the drawers of the organization caddy she’d bought for her supplies were open, their contents scattered across the desk and the top of the caddy. With a huff, she cursed her disorganized tendencies. By the time she had everything back in the right drawers, and the desktop cleared, she knew her 20 minute head start was over, leaving her only another 15 to clean the common area.

The dorm suite was a simple set-up, consisting of a small common area; no more than a long hallway with a counter top spanning the length of it. There was a toilet room at one end, a shower room at the other, and the two dorms between them. The door to the suite had an electronic lock on it, as did each of the dorm doors, but the girls usually left the doors open during the day.

Sharing such a small space between four girls wasn’t difficult for Zara; she had younger siblings, so she was used to lots of people living their lives around her. Living in the dorm actually helped her with a bit of her home sickness. Having three people there to talk to made living on the complete opposite end of the country from her home, made living in a strange, huge city bearable and for that she would always be thankful.

Due to the common area being the most shared space, it was the cleanest. Jane had gone out and bought the recycling and garbage bins and Clara had brought a shoe rack from home that she let all of them share. Command hooks held various jackets, hats, and accessories, and Ellie’s art had been proudly sticky-tacked to the wall by Ji-yoo. 

There was a microwave on the counter and a mini-fridge on the ground beneath it. A TV sat haphazardly next to the microwave, with Zara’s blu-Ray player and Jane’s Xbox next to it, cables a tangled mess around it. There was a lone circle chair between the two dorms, upon which a large Scooby-Doo plush sat standing guard, courtesy of Zara’s younger sister Scarlet. 

She’d just finished tying off the top of the garbage bag when her phone vibrated on the counter.

PJM: They won’t let me into the building without you here with me.

Zara: That’s because you’re a random 4 foot tall stranger.

PJM: Ouch.

Zara snorted and lifted the bag, grabbing her key card and student ID from her jacket pocket on her way out the door. She dropped the trash in the bin at the end of the hall and started down the stairs at a light jog, her slippers echoing quietly in the silence.

It was easy to see Jimin standing at the security desk, an easy-going smile on his face as he made large hand gestures to the security guard, one hand holding the Amazon box. He looked nice in his plain white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, his hair tousled from the wind. His eyes lifted to meet hers and his smile turned into a full on grin.

“There she is!” He exclaimed in Korean. He quickly set the Amazon box on the counter and, to Zara’s surprise, wrapped his arms around her, sliding between her tank top and the flannel shirt she wore. The next sentence was spoken in slow, careful English, clearly something he’d practiced. “It’s nice to see you, Pretty Girl.”

Zara could feel her face heat up against Jimin’s t-shirt.

“Zara Underhill,” the security officer said, causing Jimin to break away from her. “You’ve never had visitors before.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Zara sighed, reaching for the sign-in sheet and signing her name. She slid the clipboard in front of Jimin and held out the pen to him. He filled out his information and signed his name with a flourish.

“Okay, Miss Underhill, he’s all yours.”

“Thanks, Phil,” Zara smiled and started back up the stairs. Over her shoulder she called, “This way, Jimin. Follow me.”

Jimin wasn’t the only one who had been practicing. Zara had enlisted Ji-yoo to teach her some Korean, sensing that her interactions with these boys would last longer than the short time they’d be in California. Although, Zara was far from fluent.

Jimin grabbed the Amazon box and followed after her up the stairs. On the third landing, he gave a little whistle. “You live so far up. Which floor do you live on?” When he saw Zara turn to blink back at him stupidly, he searched his brain for his limited English vocabulary. “What Floor?”

“Five.”

“Elevator?”

Zara shook her head and pulled out her phone, the Google Translate already open and at the ready. “It’s always crowded. I get enough crowding at home, you know, so the stairs are easier.”

Jimin nodded, smiling. He pulled out his own phone, “I guess it’s good exercise!”

When they reached her suite, she let them in and he lingered awkwardly in the doorway, looking at the art in the small common area.

“Yours?” He looked at the perfect colored pencil rendition of Rapunzel, a grin working its way onto his lips.

“Yep,” Zara replied, quickly tapping on her phone. “My sister, Scarlet, really loves fairy tales, and she was on a real Rapunzel kick. She’s got a picture of Flynn Rider I drew framed next to her bed.”

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” Jimin mumbled to himself. Zara grinned at him, and nodded to her dorm room.

“Come on, Legs.”

Obediently, Jimin followed her in, setting about opening the computer box as Zara settled herself at the head of her bed. She watched him quietly as he plugged it in and began the setup, letting her type in all her information, jokingly looking away from her passwords.

“There you go, Miss Zara,” his phone droned as he scooted back so that he reclined against her headboard next to her. He watched her fingers moving lightly against the keyboard as she scrolled through her Twitter. She placed her hand on the top of the screen and paused, before closing the laptop and setting it gently to the side.

“Jimin,” She said, sitting up on her knees. In response to the slightly serious edge to her voice, Jimin straightened his back a little. “Tell me what you want in return for the computer.” This is the phrase Zara had practiced.

They were back to this again, were they? Jimin’s lips twisted into a pout, and his fingers tapped across his phone screen.

“Zara, I’m serious, you don’t have to pay us back.”

“No, Jimin, I’m serious. Why won’t you let me pay you back?! It’s not like it’s a sex thing...”

Jimin, who had already been shaking his head and typing before Zara’s phone had even stopped translating, froze abruptly, lifting his eyes slowly, and Zara’s own eyes widened as realization took root.

“Oh my gosh, it is a sex thing! Jimin, you’re a total Sugar Daddy! Or would it be Sugar Daddies? Is it all of you?”

Jimin winced at her tone of voice, not needing her to translate the words, ‘Sugar Daddy,’ at all. His fingers finally typed out a response, “That’s not exactly the situation, but I guess that’s one way to put it.”

Zara stared at him a little longer, before coming to a decision. She reached for her flannel and ripped it off. Jimin started, dropping his phone onto her bed.

“Zara, what are you doing?”

She didn’t answer, reaching next for her black tank top. This action is what spurred Jimin into action.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” He grabbed her wrists gently, forcing her down onto her back. She gazed up at him as he hovered over her, stress showing in his eyes. “What are you doing?”

This, Zara understood.

“I’m paying you back.”

“Jesus Christ, Zara,” it was a long suffering sigh that left him, as he moved himself off of her. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Silence, and then Zara joined him on the side of her bed. She stayed quiet for a few more seconds before typing out, “We could do it, you know? All of us... that would be okay.” He glanced at her and nudged her with his shoulder, reaching back for his own phone.

“The laptop really was just a gift. Hyung killed your first one, we don’t want you feeling obligated to sleep with us just because we replaced it. And it really would be all of us, Zara. All seven. I can’t explain why right now, but I promise if you decide you’re okay with it, we’ll explain right away.”

“Okay,” Zara agreed, but Jimin shook his head and stood up.

“No, we want you to seriously think about it. I want you to think long and hard about if this is really what you want. It doesn’t matter what the guys and I want.” He looked down at her and smiled, “I’ll see you around, Pretty Girl.”

And he left, leaving Zara to think.

@snowythellama​ @stskpop​

[winchesterbrotherstan]

SPN- Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things (2.04)

hahahhahah ohhh dean... so naive also freckles :)

Pairing: Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: While visiting Mary’s grave, the siblings stumble upon a case. Dean’s rage rises to unprecedented levels, Sam tries to hold everything together, and Olive fears losing her brother.

Warnings: cursing, dead person, guns, dean is ANGRY, uh, the usual

Word Count: 6024

I clutched my stomach as we cruised down the road. Sam wanted to visit their mother’s grave, and Dean was having absolutely none of it. We hit a pothole, and the car jumped. I swallowed the spit in my mouth and turned from my back to my side. Jinx was still at Bobby’s, and I was glad. If she was in the car, she would’ve either thrown up or peed everywhere.

“Come on, Sam. I’m begging you.” Dean groaned. “This is stupid.”

“Why?” Sam sighed, puppy eyes most likely on display.

“Going to visit Mom’s grave? She doesn’t even have a grave. There… there was no body left after the fire, Sam.”

“She has a headstone.” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man we’ve never even met. So you wanna, what, go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on!’

“Dean, that’s not his point!” I sat up in the backseat, leaning forward.

“Oh, then, please, enlighten me, Olive.”

“It’s not about a body. Or a casket. It’s about her memory!” I spat, then turned to Sam with a sad sigh. “Isn’t it, Sams?”

“Yeah. And… Dean, after Dad… it… it just feels like the right thing to do.” He sighed again.

“It’s irrational is what it is.”

I rolled my eyes. “Nobody asked you to come. Sam and I can both drive.”

“Why don’t we just swing by the Roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven’t heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son of a bitch down.” Dean offered.

Sam and I shared a look and he reached up to pat my hand. “That’s a good idea, Dean. You should. Just drop us off, we’ll hitch a ride, and we’ll meet you there tomorrow.”

“Right.” Dean huffed. “Stuck… stuck with those people, making awkward small talk until you guys show up? No thanks.”

I grinned at Sam, and he leaned his head against my hand with a soft smile. I kissed his head.

“Love ya, baby face.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you too, bug.”

                                                               ***

Sam was by Mary’s grave. Dean was standing by Dad’s headstone with a serious pout on his face. I watched as Sam dug a small hole by her headstone, then dropped Dad’s dog tags into them.  I glanced back over at Dean, feeling like I had interrupted a sacred moment. He began to walk off, focused on something. I sighed and tightened my jacket around myself.

“Hey, bug?”

My head snapped back to Sam. “Yeah?”

He nodded his head toward the headstone. “Wanna come talk to her?”

My heart jumped in my throat. “But… Sammy…”

“Hey.” He smiled. “It’s okay.” He held a hand out. “Come here.”

I slowly inched over, then huddled into his side as I stared at her headstone. Sam wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head.

“She would’ve loved you, Ollie.”

I leaned into him with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Sams.”

He only hugged me tighter.

“Hi, Mary…” I sniffled, feeling tears well in my eyes. “I’m Olive. I’m Sam and Dean’s little sister… I wish I could’ve met you. You did a really good job.” I glanced up at Sam, who had his eyes shut and tears falling down his cheeks. “I’ll take care of them for you. I promise.”

I turned and wrapped my arms around Sam’s waist and hugged him as tightly as I could, head in his chest. He chuckled.

“I love you so much.”

I nodded, hugging him tighter. “I love you too.”

“Hey. Angela Mason. She was a student at the local college. Funeral was three days ago.”

I looked straight up at Sam, eyebrows furrowed. He sighed and let go of me, crossing his arms over his chest. I put my hands in my pockets and leaned my cheek against Sam’s arm.

“Okay, and?”

“And? You see the grave?” He pointed at it. “Everything dead around it, in a perfect circle? You don’t think that’s a little weird?”

Sam and I shared another look. “Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide?”

“No.” Dean shook his head. “No, no, I asked him. No pesticide, no chemicals. Nobody can explain it.”

“Okay…” Sam sighed again.

“So what’re you thinking, Dean?” I cleared my throat.

“I dunno. Unholy ground, maybe?”

“Uh…” Sam blinked as he trailed off, and then looked down to me with an incredulous look on his face.

Is he fucking kidding me?

“What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground. Remember the uh, the farm outside Cedar Rapids?”

“Well, yeah, bu-”

“Could be a sign of demonic presence. Or, the uh, the Angela girl’s spirit, if it’s powerful enough.”

Sam nodded and turned away with another heavy sigh. Dean looked at me and his hands went up, exasperated. I shrugged.

“Well, don’t get too excited.” Dean scowled. “You might pull something.”

“It’s just…” Sam sighed again and turned back. “Stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?”

“Yeah.” Dean huffed. “So?”

“So… are you sure this is about a hunt, and not something else?”

“What else could it be about?”

Sam let out another heavy sigh, shook his head, and started moving toward the car. “You know, just forget about it.”

“You believe what you want, Sam. But I… I let you drag my ass out here, the least we could do is check this out.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest and looked at me.

I groaned loudly and threw my head back, annoyed. Dean’s eyebrows only furled deeper. Sam looked at me and I shrugged.

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

“Girl’s dad works in town. He’s a professor at the school. Let’s go.”

                                                              ***

“Dr. Mason?” Dean knocked on the open door of the office.

“Yes?”

“I’m Sam, this is Dean. This is Olive, our little sister. Uh… my brother and I, we were friends of Angela’s. We… we wanted to offer our condolences.”

“Please, come in.” Dr. Mason gestured us in.

We shuffled in, and he shut the door behind us. Sam and I sat down in the chairs across from his desk as he pulled out a photo album. Dean pulled an old book off a bookshelf and looked at the doc.

“Do you mind?”

“No, not at all, feel free.” He smiled.

Dean flipped through the pages.

I stared at the pictures as Dr. Mason paged through the book. I leaned into Sam’s side with a big sigh.

“She was beautiful.”

“Yes.” Dr. Mason smiled softly. “She was.”

“This is an unusual book.” Dean turned the book toward us.

It had greek letters and a weird triangular symbol carved into it.

“It’s ancient Greek. I teach a course.” Dr. Mason nodded.

Dean sighed as he stood behind my chair. “So… a car accident, that… that’s horrible.”

“Angie was only a mile away from home when, uh…” Dr. Mason sniffled.

“It’s gotta be hard.” Dean’s hands drummed against the chair. “Losing someone like that. Sometimes it’s like they’re s-still around. Almost like you can feel their presence.”

I glanced between him and Sam, who was now perplexed.

“You ever feel anything like that?”

“I do, as a matter of fact.” Dr. Mason kept staring at the picture.

“Well, that’s perfectly normal, Dr. Mason. Especially with what you’re going through.” Sam offered.

“You know, I still phone her.” He sighed. “And the phone’s ringing before I remember that, uh… family’s everything, you know?”

I leaned further into Sam and looked up at Dean.

“Yeah. We know.”

“Angie was the most important thing in my life. And now, I… I-I’m just lost without her.”

Sam nodded. “We’re very sorry.”

                                                              ***

“Guys, I’m telling you, there’s something going on here. We just haven’t found it yet.” Dean’s eyes were wide.

I sighed and tried to focus on my book. Sam said nothing, instead zoning out while staring at the TV.

“Hey.” Dean snapped his fingers in front of my face.

I turned the page. Dean groaned obnoxiously and snatched my glasses off my face.

“Dean! I need those to see, prick!” I tossed the book aside and sat up on my knees, reaching for them.

He held them above my head and tried to keep a serious face.

“Dean!”

“No! Pay attention to me, then you’ll get them back.”

“Sammy!” I whined, turning to him and huffing.

“Dean, so far you’ve got a patch of dead grass and nothing.”

“Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground.” Dean snapped back.

“There’s no reason for it to be unholy ground, Dean. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That’s not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father.” Sam got to his feet and plucked my glasses back from Dean. “Here you go, bug.”

Dean huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, maybe Daddy doesn’t know everything there is to know about this little angel, huh?”

I rubbed my eyes and slid my glasses back on. “Dean, I don’t think your average teenage girl is evil enough to turn ground unholy.”

“She’s right, Dean. We never should’ve bothered that poor man. We shouldn’t even be here anymore.” Sam put his hands on his hips.

“So what, guys? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what’s going on?”

Sam shook his head. “I think I know what’s going on here. It’s the only reason I went along with you this far.”

I tilted my head at him.

You lost me.

“What are you talking about?” Dean scowled.

“This is about Mom’s grave.”

I shrunk into the bed and looked down at my hands. I couldn’t play referee on this one.

Dean scoffed. “That’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Dude! You wouldn’t even step within a hundred yards of it. Look, maybe you’re imagining a hunt where there isn’t one so you don’t have to think about Mom. Or Dad.”

Dean turned to him with a look of pain and disgust on his face. Sam sighed and held his arms out wide.

“You wanna take another swing? Go ahead, if it’ll make you feel better.”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t need this crap.”

He pulled on his jacket without a word, then grabbed the car keys. I scooted to the edge of the bed and sighed.

“Dean…”

He came my way and cupped my face, pressing a long kiss to my forehead. He pulled away with a soft smile and rubbed the tip of my nose. I sighed. Dean was having a lot of mood swings lately, which was understandable, but I felt guilty when he was sweet to me and cold to Sam.

“I’ll be back before you know it, princess. Love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Dean, where’re you going?” Sam called as Dean started for the door.

“I’m gonna go get a drink. Alone.”

“Be safe!” I shouted as the door shut behind him.

                                                              ***

Something whacked me in the head and I groaned, turning onto my back before sitting up. I looked down at my side to see that the TV remote had landed next to me.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“Where in the hell were you, Dean?”

I rubbed my head and looked between Sam, who was on the edge of the bed, and Dean, who had just walked in. He glanced between Sam and the TV.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Who the fuck just threw the remote at me?”

Dean and Sam looked at me before quickly pointing at each other. I groaned and threw the remote onto the other bed.

“Dean, where were you?”

“Working my imaginary case. You?”

“I was sleeping.” I deadpanned. “What d’ya got?”

“Well, you two were right. I didn’t find much.”

Sam gave a sympathetic nod and I sighed before going to lay back down.

“Except that Angela’s boyfriend died last night.”

I sat back up and stared at Dean, eyebrows furrowed. He nodded, smug. I rolled my eyes and got to my feet, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Okay, and?”

“He slit his own throat. But you know, that’s normal. Uh, let’s see, what else. Oh, yeah! He was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I’m sure that’s just me projecting my own feelings. Ya know, Mercury must be in retrograde.”

I snorted and moved to sit next to Sam. He sighed, defeated.

“Okay. I’m sorry, maybe there is something going on here.”

I turned to him with a glare. “Maybe? You think so, Sams? I mean, wh-what was it? The suicide or the seeing his dead girlfriend part?”

“Hey.” Sam warned.

“She’s right, Sam. I know how to do my job, despite what you might think.”

I sighed. “Okay, we should check out the guy’s apartment.”

Dean leaned against the cabinet with the TV on top of it and crossed his arms. “I just came from there. Pile of dead plants, just like the cemetery. Hell, dead goldfish too.”

“So, unholy ground?”

“Maybe.” Dean sighed. “I’m still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela.” He got up and crossed back to the table, where he plucked a pink book out of his jacket pocket. “I have been reading this, though.”

“You rat!” I gasped with a smile on my face.

“You stole the girl’s diary?” Sam was far from impressed.

“Yeah, Sam. And I’d love it if you’d appreciate my genius like Olive does. Anyways, if anything, this girl’s a little too nice.”

“So what do you wanna do?”

“Keep digging. Talk to more of her friends.”

“You get any names?” Sam sighed.

“Are you kidding me?” Dean held the diary up. “I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world.”

                                                              ***

“Hey!” I stumbled to stand as Sam and Dean came down the steps. “What’d we get?”

“Apparently Angela found her boy cheating the night she died.”

I scratched the back of my neck as Dean let out a low whistle. “That’s not ideal.”

Dean snorted. “Well, the vengeful spirit theory’s starting to make a little more sense. I mean, hell hath no fury…”

“So if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it’s over?” Sam asked as we climbed into the car.

“Well, there’s one way to be sure.”

Sam titled his head. “What?”

“Burn the bones?” I looked up at Dean, and he nodded.

“Burn the bones.”

Sam scoffed at both of us. “Are you two high?”

Dean and I glanced at each other. I scratched my nose while he cleared his throat. Sam smacked my arm.

“You are fifteen, you should have no clue what being high even is.”

I giggled, and Dean cracked a grin.

“Wait, what’s the issue with burning the bones?” I turned back to Sam.

“Angela died last week!”

“So?”

“Oh…” I grimaced as I realized.

“So, there’s not gonna be bones, Dean. There’s gonna be a ripe, rotting body in that coffin.”

Dean shrugged. “So? Since when are you afraid to get dirty? Huh?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Fine, but Olive stays in the car.”

“Wh-”

“Please.” I begged, sending Dean puppy eyes.

He sighed as he looked at me, then huffed. “Fine.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Sissy.”

“Call me whatever the fuck you want, Dean, I don’t do corpses. Only bones.”

“We burned the witches down in New Orleans!”

“I threw up, remember!”

“Oh, yeah, you did.” Dean shuddered. “Puked all over my new boots.”

I shrugged. “Sorry.”

Sam stared at us both with a defeated look. He let out a long sigh and turned to stare out the window. I giggled and leaned into his side.

“Let’s just go get this over with.”

                                                              ***

“What’s going on?” I asked as Dean and Sam slammed the trunk shut and scrambled into the car. “Why didn’t you burn the body?”

“There is no body.” Dean scowled.

“What?”

Sam sighed and shook his head. “The coffin was empty.”

I tilted my head. “What the fuck?”

He nodded. “Yeah. There were some symbols in the wood.”

“What symbols?”

Dean pulled out his phone and showed me a picture. I hummed.

“Haven’t we seen those before?”

He nodded. “Yeah. And I know exactly where.”

“Well, where?”

                                                              ***

“Dean, oh my god.” I took a few steps back as Dean pounded on Dr. Mason’s office door.

“Dean, take it easy. Please.” Sam pulled on his shoulders.

The door opened, and Dr. Mason smiled at us. “You’re Angie’s friends, right?”

Sam was the epitome of a gentle giant. His smile was soft, his posture was relaxed, and his tone was warm. “Dr. Mason-”

“We need to talk.” Dean cut him off with a snarl.

“Well, then, come on in.”

Dean pushed past him, and Sam followed, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Thank you, sorry.” I whispered.

Dean didn’t even wait for the door to shut as he whipped out the paper with the symbols. “You teach Ancient Greek. Tell me…” He unfurled the paper. “What are these?”

“I don’t understand.” Dr. Mason squinted, then looked at Sam and I. “Does this have something to do with Angela?”

“It does. Please, just humor me.” Dean snapped.

“They’re part of an ancient Greek divination ritual.”

“Used for necromancy, right?”

Dr. Mason nodded. “That’s right.”

“See, before we came over here, we stopped by the library and did a little homework ourselves. Apparently they used rituals like this one for communicating with the dead. Even bringing corpses back to life. Full on zombie action.”

Dr. Mason nodded. “Yes. I mean, according to the legends. Now, what’s all this about?”

Sam and I glanced at Dr. Mason, then at each other with matching expressions. This guy didn’t seem like someone who would bring his dead kid back to life. I caught Dean’s eye and sent him a pleading look. He kept going.

“I think you know.”

“Dean.” Sam warned.

“Look, I get it. Okay? There are people that I would give anything to see again.” Dean softened, then got in Dr. Mason’s face. “But what gives you the right?”

“Dean!” Sam took a step forward.

“What are you talking about?” Dr. Mason was beyond confused.

“What’s dead should stay dead!” Dean shot.

“What?” Dr. Mason’s eyes were wide.

“Stop it!” I ran at Dean and pushed him, but he didn’t budge.

“What you brought back isn’t even your daughter anymore! These things are vicious, they’re violent, they’re so nasty they rot the ground around them! I mean, come on, haven’t you seen Pet Sematary?”

“Dean, stop!” I hit his chest.

He caught me off guard and pushed me, sending me stumbling into Sam. Sam forced me behind him and glared at Dean.

“You’re insane.” Dr. Mason shook his head.

“Where is she!”

“Get out of my office.” He picked up his phone, but Dean knocked it out of his hand.

“I know you’re hiding her somewhere! Where is she!”

“Dean! Stop!” I ducked out from under Sam and pushed Dean, hard this time.

He glared at me and I grabbed his wrist, making sure I dug my nails into his skin even though it hurt me. I pointed to the windowsill.

“Look. Plants. Beautiful, living plants.” I growled.

“We’re leaving.” Sam told Dr. Mason.

Dean jerked himself out of my grip and stormed out the door.

“I’m calling the police.” Dr. Mason scowled.

“Sir, we’re really sorry. We won’t bother you again.” I gave him the most apologetic look I could before Sam and I followed after Dean.

                                                              ***

“Dean, what the hell is the matter with you?” Sam called.

“Back off.” Dean growled.

“That man is innocent! He didn’t deserve that!”

“Okay, so she’s not here! Maybe he’s keeping her somewhere else.”

“Stop it!” Sam shouted. “That is enough, okay? Enough.”

“Sam, I know what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t!” I shouted. “You don’t, at all, Dean! Look, just about everything in this world scares me, but you never have. Except for now. You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

Dean bent down and got in my face. “Don’t be so overdramatic, Olive.”

Sam pulled me away from Dean and scowled. “You’re lucky this turned out to be a real case. Because if it wasn’t you would’ve just found something else to kill.”

“Wh-”

“He’s right, Dean! You’re on edge, you’re erratic. Except for when you’re hunting, because then you are downright horrifying. You’re spinning out, dude. And you’d rather die than talk about it! And you won’t let Sam and I help you!”

“I can take care of myself, thanks. I don’t need my little siblings to do it for me.”

“Dean!” Sam was panting, exasperated. “You can’t take care of yourself. And you know what? You’re the only one who thinks you should have to! You don’t have to handle this on your own, Dean. Nobody even can.”

“Dean, we’re still a family, and family is supposed to take care of each other!”

“If you bring up Dad’s death one more time I swear-”

“Stop! Please!” Sam looked ready to smash something against a wall.

“Dean.” I spoke, lips trembling. “Dean, this is killing you. Please.” My voice broke. “We’ve all lost Dad. You two have lost your mother. Sam’s lost Jess. But if you keep living like this, we will lose you too.”

Dean sighed. “We better get out of here before the cops come.”

I let out a strangled cry, trying to disguise it as a groan as I turned away. I pinched the bridge of my nose and looked up, holding back tears.

“I hear you. Okay? Yeah. I’m being an ass, and I’m sorry. But right now we’ve got a freaking zombie running around. And we need to figure out how to kill it.”

Sam let out a small chuckle and I wiped the tears from my eyes, turning back to the boys.

“Right?” Dean’s face was still serious.

“Our lives are weird, man.” Sam chuckled again.

“You’re telling me?” Dean huffed. “Come on.”

                                                              ***

“We can’t just waste her with a head shot?” Dean continued to pace around the room.

Sam chuckled and looked up from Dad’s journal. “Dude, you’ve been watching way too many Romero flicks.”

“You’re telling me there’s no lore on how to smoke em!” Dean put his hands up. “What else am I supposed to suggest?”

I giggled and Sam shook his head as Dean took a seat across from me. “No, Dean, I’m telling you that there’s too much. I mean, there’s a hundred different legends on the walking dead, and they all have different ways to kill them.” Sam moved from the bed to the table, pushing my feet onto the ground. “Some say, setting them on fire, uh, decapitation, cut up the bodies…” He sighed.

“Oh! I found one you might like!” I grinned as I flipped the laptop toward them.

“Feeding their hearts to wild dogs?” Sam read off the screen.

“I say we break into the zoo and find some hyenas and go for it!”

Dean’s head tilted. “Are wild dogs and hyenas the same thing?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I think so.”

Sam shook his head. “No they’re not.”

I pulled the laptop back my way and googled it. “Wait, no, they actually are two separate things. Hyenas are more closely related to cats? And… mongooses?”

“What the fuck is a mongoose?” Dean leaned forward.

I pulled up a picture of a mongoose and snorted. “This is an overgrown ferret. You’re telling me that that is related to a hyena?” I pushed the laptop back their way.

Sam rubbed his eyes. “I mean, the point is, who knows what’s real and what’s a myth?”

“Well, is there anything they all have in common?” I shut the laptop with a sigh.

“No.” Sam sighed. “But a few said silver might work.”

I looked at Dean, who shrugged.

“Silver’s a start.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Well, yeah. But how are we gonna find Angela? It’s not like she’s in her grave.”

Dean sighed. “We’ve gotta figure out the person who brought her back.”

“Alright. Any ideas?”

“I think that if it’s not her dad, it might be that guy Neil.”

I glanced between the boys. “Who?”

“A friend of Angela’s.”

“Okay… how’d you come up with that?”

Dean crossed the room and grabbed the pink diary, tapping his fingers on it with a grin. “You’ve got your journal, I’ve got mine.” He flipped it open and cleared his throat. “Neil’s a real shoulder to cry on, he so understands what I’m going through with Matt.”

I giggled and he nodded, throwing the diary onto the table and sitting back down. “There’s more in there where that came from. It’s got unrequited duckie love written all over it.”

I giggled again, and Sam cracked a smile.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he brought her back from the dead.”

“Hmm.” Dean pouted. “Did I mention he’s Dr. Mason’s TA? Has access to all the same books.”

Sam rested his chin in his hands and made a face.

                                                              ***

“Hello? Neil? It’s your grief counselors. We’ve come to hug.” Dean called out into the apartment.

There was no answer. Dean pulled out a gun and nodded at me. I pulled my own, and Sam made a face.

“They’re silver bullets.” I grinned.

Sam shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

“Enough to make her rattle like a change purse.” Dean matched the grin on my face.

Dean led the way. Sam was in the middle, and I brought up the rear with my gun ready. Sam nudged us both and pointed. I looked over to see a windowsill fill of wilted plants. I groaned, feeling sick. Dean nodded and led us to a door. He nodded to it.

“Unless it’s where he keeps his porn…”

Sam sighed and opened the door. Dean led the way down, Sam and I followed. The room was empty. 

“Sure looks like a zombie pen to me.” Dean huffed.

“Yeah, an empty one.” Sam sighed. “Think Angela’s going after somebody?”

Dean pulled a loose grate off the wall. It landed on the floor with a thud and I sighed. It was a tunnel, and it definitely led somewhere outside.

“Nah. I think she went to rent Beaches.” Dean mocked.

I whacked the back of his head and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Okay, jackass. She might kill someone. Which means we’ve gotta find her.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, alright. She uh, she clipped Matt because he was cheating on her, right?”

“Well, yeah, that’s the working theory.”

“Okay, well, it takes two to have hardcore sex.”

Sam frowned and I grimaced.

“I don’t know, it just seemed that uh… Angela’s roommate was broken up over Matt’s death. I mean, like…” Dean raised his eyebrows. “Really broken up.”

                                                              ***

Someone screamed, and Dean and I both fired, nailing Angela in the chest and shoulder. She screamed but went out the window. Dean and I went after as Sam went to the roommate. We reached the window, but she was already out of sight. I stuck my head out the window and looked around. She was gone.

“Damn.”

“Alright, so the dead chick can run.”

I sighed. “What do we do now?”

Dean thought about it for a second. “I say we go have a little chat with Neil.”

                                                              ***

“Okay, so the silver bullets did something, right?”

“Yeah, but obviously not enough. What else you got?”

“Um, okay… besides silver, we have…” Sam skimmed through Dad’s journal. “Nailing the undead back into their grave beds. It’s mentioned a few times.”

“Probably where the whole vampire staking lore came from.” I mused.

“Their grave beds? Seriously?” Dean glanced from the road to Sam.

“Yeah.”

“How the fuck are we gonna get Angela back to the cemetery?”

                                                              ***

“Just stay behind me, okay?” Sam squeezed my shoulder.

I nodded. “Okay.”

Dean pushed the office door open, and a guy was sitting at his desk in the dark. Dean shot us a look over his shoulder. I kept close to Sam as we shuffled into the room.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“You know, I’ve heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you.” Dean snorted. “You take the cake.”

“Okay. Who are you guys?”

“You might wanna ask Angela that question.”

“What?”

“We know what you did, Neil. The ritual and everything.”

Neil scoffed. “You’re crazy.”

“Your girlfriend’s past her expiration date and we’re crazy?”

“When someone’s gone, they should stay gone.” Dean reiterated.

No.

I swallowed, caught off guard. It was happening again. I cleared my throat.

“Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill her roommate too.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hey!” Dean stormed over to the desk and hauled Neil up by the collar.

Sam was shocked, but I didn’t even blink. This was how it was going to be until he let us help him.

“No more crap, Neil. His blood is on your hands. Now. Me and my siblings can make this right, but you’ve gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!”

I noticed the window behind his desk. All the plants were dead.

“My house! She’s at my house.”

Dean dropped him, and I cleared my throat.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” He nodded.

I glanced past him to see a closet cracked open. I cleared my throat again, and the boys looked at me, confused.

“Listen. It doesn’t really matter where she is. There’s only one way to stop her. We’ve gotta do another ritual over her grave to reverse the mess you made. Gonna need some black root, some scar weed, some sage and some candles. It’s complicated, but it’ll get the job done.”

I noticed Dean holding back a smirk, and Sam’s eyebrows furrowed.

“She’ll be dead again in a few hours. I really think you should come with us.”

Neil said nothing.

“I’m serious, Neil. Leave with us. Right now.”

“No. No, I can’t.”

Dean leaned back in and whispered something to him. Neil’s face drained of color and Dean turned back to us. “Let’s go.”

                                                              ***

“Do you really think this’ll work?”

I shrugged as I lit another candle. “Dude, fuck if I know. It’s the best I could come up with.”

There was a crackling sound from nearby, and our heads snapped up like three deer. Dean nodded to Sam, who slowly stood and held his hand out. I pulled my gun from the small of my back and handed it to him. As Sam stalked away, I opened my mouth, letting my teeth do as they pleased. Fangs slid out, cramming my regular teeth to the sides. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before focusing on the noises. There was another sound, closer to where Sam had gone.

I heard the shifting of his clothes and then a small gasp.

“Wait! It’s not what you think. I didn’t ask to be brought back! But it’s still me. I’m still a person. Please.” Angela pleaded.

There was a gunshot, and I flinched, eyes snapping open. There was a scream and the subsequent crunching of bones. Sam began to run back to us, and there was another thud.

Sam.

I snatched Dean’s gun from the back of his jeans and made a run for it. Sam was down in the clearing, and Angela was trying to twist his head back. I shot her, and she scrambled away, right toward Dean. I shot her a few more times, and she stumbled into her open grave. Dean acted fast, grabbing a long metal stake and ran for it, sliding into the grave.

“Please, don’t!” She screamed.

I flinched as I heard the sound of the blade digging into her skin. There was a gasp, and then nothing.

“What’s dead should stay dead.” Dean hissed.

                                                              ***

“Man, rest in peace.” I huffed as we finished patting down the dirt over her grave.

“Yeah, for good this time.” Dean huffed.

Sam grunted as he lifted his shovel over his shoulder and we made our way to the car.

“You know, that whole fake ritual thing, luring Angela into the cemetery? Pretty sharp of you two.”

Dean and I looked at each other and grinned. “Thanks.”

“But why did I have to be the bait?”

“Figured you were more her type.” Dean teased. “You know, she had a pretty crappy taste in guys.”

“I think she broke my hand.” Sam huffed.

“Aw, Sams.” I pouted. “Gimme the shovel.”

“Nah, it’ll hurt more to move it.”

Dean laughed. “You’re just too fragile. We’ll get it looked at later.” He paused and glanced back at Mary’s grave.

“You wanna stay for a while?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. “Nope.”

He popped the trunk and let us drop our things in. I climbed into the front bench with a grunt. Sam and Dean followed.

                                                              ***

Dean pulls the car over onto the opposite shoulder with a scowl. Olive sits up straight, and Sam looks at the eldest Winchester, confused. Dean gets out of the car and sits on the hood, wordless. Sam and Olive share a look, then follow their brother out of the car. Sam sits down on the hood, leaving a space between himself and Dean.

“Dean, what is it?” He asks.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice is deep and his tone is serious, but Olive sees right through it. He’s about to burst into tears. She stands between her brothers, staying close to Dean.

“For what?”

“The way I’ve been acting.” He looks down and swallows. “And for Dad. I mean… he was you guys’ Dad too. And it’s my fault that he’s gone.”

Sam glances at Olive, expecting to share a look. Olive sinks into Dean’s side and swallows, hard. She doesn’t look at Sam. She can’t, or she’ll break.

“Dean, what are you talking about?”

“I know you’ve been thinking it. So have I.” Dean sniffs. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later, Dad’s dead and the Colt is gone.”

“Dean.”

“You can’t tell me there’s not a connection there.” Dean shakes his head. “I don’t know how the demon was involved. I don’t know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad’s dead because of me.”

Olive begins to cry, looking down at her feet. Her chest aches, a combination of the harsh tug at her heartstrings and the healing wound from their previous case.

“That much I do know.”

Sam grabs one of Olive’s hands and shakes his head at his older brother. “We don’t know that. Not for sure, Dean.”

“Kids…” Dean’s voice is weak. “You two, and Dad… you’re the most important people in my life. And now… I never should’ve come back, guys. It wasn’t natural. And now look what’s come of it.”

Olive begins to cry harder, and Sam’s eyes fill with tears.

“I was dead. And I should have stayed dead.”

Tears begin to fall down Dean’s cheeks. Sam is distraught, he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to help. Olive is shaking. She knew this would be her burden to carry, but she never realized it would become Dean’s too.

“You guys wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that’s it.”

Sam nods, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks.

“So tell me. What could you two possibly say to make that alright?” Dean looks their way.

Sam falters, looks down. Dean looks back away, and Olive’s heart begins to ache. She looks up at her big brother, and barrels straight into him. She throws her arms around his neck and he steadies himself, expecting her to put all her weight on him. She doesn’t. She holds him, and gently pulls him forward. He lets himself be held, then slowly drops his head into her neck. He begins to shake, and she squeezes him tighter.

She can’t say anything to make it right. She knows that.

All she can do is hold him and hope he knows how much they need him.

Because if he can realize that, then it’s enough.

Previous Ep: Bloodlust (2.03)

Next Ep: Simon Said (2.05)

[ptrparkcrs]

& you say rise above (self-para)

summary: peter meets an old friend in an unexpected place and faces dire consequences word count: 3002 trigger warnings: violence, injury, death mention, spider-man cops (completely useless, but existent)

It was ten seventeen PM. He had been at work late, probably too late, troubleshooting something small and nitpicky that even he barely understood. At least there was always food somewhere in the building, and FRIDAY liked him enough to not yell at him when he stole a second donut, or a third, or when he ordered an extra-large pizza on Tony Stark’s credit card. As long as he didn’t leave his workspace too greasy and saved some leftovers for Tony, he’d probably be fine.

Whatever it was he had been supposed to be working on, clean energy or artificial intelligence or consumer goods or fancy sunglasses, it probably wasn’t supposed to have been reconstructing the lenses of Spider-Man’s mask to better conform to his facial expressions, but Peter had had to do some repairs after Gabby had torn the thing to shreds. If Tony caught him sewing on the clock, what was he going to do? Let Spider-Man go without a mask? Put Peter’s life at risk? No, he’d be fine. He’d been too antsy to focus on real work, his ribs still healing, his face still a little tender. He’d needed a concrete physical distraction and the satisfaction of knowing he was fixing something.

(He’d be totally fine in a day or two; he was almost there, but Gabby had done a pretty solid number on him. Broken ribs, a black eye, scabs where the pavement had rubbed his chin raw, the whole shebang. He told everyone it was a bike accident, even though he didn’t own a bike, because nearly beaten to death by a chemically ramped-up teenager wasn’t something that could realistically have happened to completely normal, non-superhero guy Peter Parker. In retrospect, he should have said he’d crashed his skateboard into a taxi again, which he had done more than once in high school, but hindsight was 20/20.) 

Still, the time spent on the mask during the day had meant a pile of unfinished work, which had meant staying at the tower later. Peter knew that, as best as he’d tried not to be, he was a nepotism hire. He’d waltzed into Stark industries with little training and few qualifications, and he was determined to prove that he was just as suited to be here as anyone else. Yeah, he’d had the internship, but he’d gotten that through sheer dumb luck and minor internet fame, and he and Tony both knew it had been a cover, anyway. Yeah, he had a college degree, but most of his actual work experience had been mediocre photography for a vaguely predatory, second-rate newspaper. He’d been a child prodigy, sure, but last he’d checked most child prodigies peaked sometime around high school, and building the Spider-Man suit for personal gain wasn’t about to go on his resume. He knew any interview process he’d gone through had been performative; he knew that the job had been his no matter what, so long as he hadn’t actually blown up the company. He didn’t want Tony to regret his decision, and he really did want to keep his job. That meant actually doing his work, even if he did have to stay long past dark.

So he’d finally finished—the work and the mask—and headed home to find Sandwich demanding a second dinner and a walk. Fine. Okay. He could do that.

“All you’ve got going for you is your body, bud,” he said. “Don’t know why you’re so determined to ruin that.” Sandwich was beautiful, in a scraggly rescue dog kind of way (Aunt May said he looked like the dog from Annie, which was probably a compliment), but he was also dumb as a rock. He put a few treats in the bowl anyway and went to find a leash.

As he dug through the storage cube where he was sure he’d left the good collar, Peter heard sirens. They sounded close, maybe a few blocks away, and getting closer. His police scanner was on his nightstand, but there wasn’t time to check. Sirens were as good a cue as any.

“I’ll be back soon,” he told Sandwich, as he grabbed his suit from the pile on the floor, pulled it on, and headed towards the window. “We’ll walk later. Promise. Please don’t eat the couch again while I’m gone.”

The dog grunted and went back to eating.

&&&

Web swinging was hard today. His body groaned with every movement, resisting the stress of his acrobatics. Still healing. He hadn’t realized she’d gotten him quite that badly; he’d been up against way worse than a single teenage girl, but he hadn’t had anyone try so determinedly to kill him from such close range in a long time--not since Norman, or maybe Harry, but that had felt a little more reluctant. Fine, he’d go easy on the somersaults.

So long as whatever was up there wasn’t a troupe of murderous acrobats, he’d probably be okay. At least the new mask was holding up well.

What was up ahead, three or five or seven or twenty-six blocks from his apartment, he’d lost count, was—lights. Sirens. Yelling. A strange, echoing thump-thump. Shit. He dropped himself onto a rooftop to survey the scene, his ribs only groaning a little bit as he landed in a crouch. A bank, long closed for the night, its windows smashed. A row of police cars, like a barricade. Coming in from the north, fire trucks, an ambulance. A small throng of bystanders, their phones out, edging around the scene. A trail of broken asphalt running away in the opposite direction.

And in the middle of it all, a figure.

A man, maybe. In a long jacket, something more than the night obscuring his face. He—if it was a he—didn’t seem very big, but he hovered several feet above the ground, supported by what appeared to be a pair of giant robotic arms. Another pair spread wide into the night air, lashing at anyone who tried to approach.

Peter was pretty sure he’d seen those arms before, or something very like them. Mostly in sketches, then once or twice in a lab in college, never in use, just propped up safely against the back wall. They help my dexterity, Peter. More precise.

But that had been in a secure research lab up at Columbia, where the arms had helped a man’s clumsy hands study nuclear physics at an atomic scale, not ravage a bank on the Lower East Side. Stolen tech, maybe? A copycat? Convergent evolution, two people independently building the same machine at the same time? But what were the odds of that, really? These were robotic arms, not clean energy or self-driving cars. It was too niche. Who was this man, and what could he want?

He swung down, closer, landing on the hood of a police car. The officer standing next to it looked down at Peter and sighed.

“Hey, Spider-Man,” he said. “You can go home. We’ve got this.”

Peter tethered himself to a lamppost closer to the bank and leapt off the hood, angry at his stupid fragile body keeping him from somersaulting away for maximum dramatic effect. “That’s what you always say, Bill.”

“It’s David.”

“I really don’t care.”

He landed on the lamppost, but just barely. The many-armed man had seen him coming and was getting closer, one of his robotic limbs swiping at Peter’s perch. Peter leaped off before the pole could crash down and rolled to the ground, where he finally got a good look at his assailant.

He hadn’t imagined it. He knew those arms.

“Doctor Oc—"

Doctor Octavius. His thesis advisor. A kind, absentminded, academic type, the brand who left their office littered with sticky notes to remember to buy milk, who replied to emails four days late at two in the morning. He’d called Peter a genius kid, said he’d had what it takes to save the world. Because that’s what scientists do, Peter. We change things. We fix them. We make them better. We help the people who can’t help themselves—you get that, don’t you?

Oh, he got it.

Doc was wearing glasses, and his jovial smile had twisted into a sneer, but it was unmistakably him. He lowered himself to the ground, all four metal arms swirling around him.“Oh, great,” he said. “It’s the bug boy. What, couldn’t send any of the real superheroes to stop me? Daddy too busy arresting innocent people?”

With all due respect, Peter thought, what the fuck? Sure, he wasn’t an Enforcer, but his old professor going on a crime spree with a set of weaponized robot arms, probably having some sort of episode, called for enforcement.

He lifted himself off the ground slowly. His body was already screaming for a break, and they were barely getting started. “Look, dude, I respect the whole eight-legs thing, but you don’t gotta be so literal about it. It’s kinda—what’s the word? Tacky.”

Doc lunged at him; Peter dodged. “Wait, no,” he continued. “Kitschy. Campy. Gaudy.” Another swipe, another dodge. “No, I was right the first time. Tacky, it’s tacky.”

The next swipe came from behind him, and Peter jumped out of the way just in time. “What do you even want, Doc? For a guy in tights to teach you that robbing banks and taking hostages is wrong? Congrats, you got it!” He didn’t know if there were hostages; he’d been too stunned by Otto to check, he just assumed there were. There were almost always hostages when the guys in costumes got involved.

“How do you know my name?” Octavius growled.

Yep, there were hostages.

“I dunno, it was just a vibe. You kind of look like my dentist.” And the man who shaped my college career, but same thing.

Most nights he could go on like this forever. Banter, dodge, punch, jump, repeat. Talk him into submission, until he was too worn down by Peter’s endless punchlines to punch back.  Tonight, he was tired. He was injured. He had a dog at home waiting for a walk. This needed to be quick—rescue the hostages, get Otto taken in and looked after. (Kindly, he hoped; the Otto Octavius he knew was a good man, and was probably in there somewhere, scared and confused.) In the morning, maybe Peter Parker could call to innocently, coincidentally check in on his old mentor and get the full story.

“You’re a nuisance, Spider-Man. You know that, don’t you?”

“So it said on my report cards.”

Octavius stepped closer, and Peter webbed one of his metal legs to the ground, but he kept swiping. In his real arms, the human ones, Peter could see a briefcase, presumably full of the stolen money or techno-weapons for looting safety deposit boxes. So he already had what he wanted, but still the hostages, still the rampage, still the crazed look behind those horrible dark goggles. Peter could deal with him, the cops could free the hostages, they’d be fine, this was fine, everything was going to be fine.

But how had this happened—why had this happened? Did he poison everyone he touched? Ben, Gwen, Norman, even Harry, all either dead or driven mad by his proximity. Who next? Tony? May? Steph? MJ? His high school science teacher? His next-door neighbors?

You ruin everything, Peter Parker. They’re safer if you don’t love them, if they don’t love you. You’re a time bomb. A nuclear blast. Look at what you do to them. What you’ve done. You’re not worth it.

His spider sense alerting him to an incoming blow put a pause on the cycle of self-loathing. He couldn’t dodge in time, and an angry fist landed hard against his face. He groaned, and he tasted the blood from his (now probably broken) nose as it dripped into his mouth. “What do you want, Otto?” he spat.

Shit.

“Doctor” he could get away with as a joke, but how would Spider-Man know Doctor Octavius’s first name? He wouldn’t, that’s how. Not unless they knew each other in real life, civilian life, faces uncovered and feet on the ground. Peter, you idiot. His cover, which he had so carefully maintained for the past eight years, was about a minute from being blown by an academic in octopus cosplay. 

This shouldn’t have been happening. He was a professional, he was good at this. He had learned from his past, he was doing better, and these were amateur mistakes. He was off his game, that’s what this was. He was exhausted, injured, overworked, stunned by the improbability of it all. His whole life was improbable; he should have known to expect this kind of thing by now, but he wasn’t convinced he wasn’t living out some middle schooler’s sadistic Mad Libs. He still had time to fix this.

Otto said nothing; he just laughed.

Peter tried to launch himself in the air for a swing and a kick, but his reflexes were slowing, his injuries worsening. Whatever healing he’d done had been set back several days, and every movement was more labored than the last. Before he could evade, the arms, all of them now free of webbing, wrapped themselves around him and pulled him in. Peter hissed in response, his exhalation short and shallow, doing his best to suppress a yelp.

“Oh, come on. Personal space, dude,” he said, and the top left arm pinched his wrists together in response. He was now being held fast in evil, sentient handcuffs, no hopes of swinging away in sight. Nothing this stupid would have happened to Tony; Tony would have had lasers and lights and taken out this guy in minutes. Hell, he could have called in the Iron Legion for backup if he’d wanted, but a single man didn’t deserve it. Peter was a disappointment, again. This should have been so easy, and yet.

And yet.

Peter wasn’t Tony Stark.

“Otto,” growled Octavius.

Peter said nothing.

“Why did you call me that?”

This time, Peter squirmed. He was being held tightly, so tightly. His wrists were raw, his chest burning, and at some point, he had started to bleed. Work was going to have to buy bike accident twice this week. ”I told you. You look like my dentist. His name’s Otto. It was a lucky guess.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

His head spun and his mouth tasted like iron and asphalt as the world tunneled in around the edges of his vision. His hands still tied, he tried to gain some leverage with a kick, but the other arms squeezed even tighter until he was sure he felt a crunch. Great. This was it, this was how he died. Sometime around midnight outside a random bank because his college thesis advisor had taken up a life of crime and he’d been too weak and injured to do anything about it. Yeah, that tracked.

“Who are you, Spider-Man?”

Peter couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, could only steel himself as his spider sense turned on high alert. Imminent danger, big time. Yeah, he got it. With the human hand not holding the briefcase, Otto pulled the mask from his head.

And immediately dropped him, limp and winded and battered, to the ground.

Peter’s bare skin was so cold, the streetlights so bright, every sound and smell heightened without the mask.

Otto’s face had cleared with recognition, and his sneer fell away. “Peter?”

Peter groaned. Then he peeled himself off the ground and launched a flurry of web bombs until Otto was wrapped tightly all over. It wouldn’t hold long, but it would have to hold long enough to get him taken safely into custody. Locked up in the Raft for ten to life, a brilliant man’s work cut short by his own creation. (Was it too soon to make Frankenstein jokes?) But Peter couldn’t think about the tragedy of it yet. He had to keep moving.

He kept his head down until he found the mask by Otto’s feet. His hands were shaking, and it took impossibly long to fit it back over his head. It was twisted or too small or made for someone else entirely, bunching around his neck and pulling uncomfortably against his swollen face. And then he stood up, wobbly and wheezing, and faced the officers who were pulling the hostages from the building. Maybe they’d been inside. Maybe they hadn’t seen him. Maybe it was okay.

“You’ve got this from here, Bill,” he said, and, with every ounce of willpower he had left, he swung away on shaky arms to pick up his dog, call Aunt May, and hide in his childhood bedroom for the rest of his life.

&&&

The officers may not have seen him, but there had been bystanders. There are always bystanders, just like there are always hostages. They have cameras. They have social media. They flock to danger, to drama, to sensationalism. They post suffering for the likes and the retweets and the fleeting moments of fame. A Spider-Man sighting was pretty commonplace--novel, but not extraordinary. But this tableau, a hero in crisis, an identity revealed, that was media gold. This was a millennial icon’s Pyrrhic victory. This was a new weak spot in the Accords. And under all that bravado, he was just a scared little boy. They didn't recognize him (there was at least one audible boo when someone realized that Spider-Man was just another pasty white boy), but they’d seen him, and that was enough.

The responsible thing would have been to keep his secret, to respect the sanctity of what had happened here tonight. But the bystanders are never responsible.

While all the others had been texting and tweeting and snapping and streaming, at least one had had the wherewithal to take a picture with one of their fancy, enormous, three-lensed phone cameras and capture Spider-Man unmasked, clear as day, battered and bloody but distinctly him, and send it straight to the Daily Bugle.

(The ball’s in your court now, Jameson.)

[until-theend-oftheline]

Kari’s Marvelous 2k Writing Challenge

Thank you so much, guys. I honestly didn’t expect this blog to grow the way it has when I started it. I love this fandom and I love reading for these characters as much as I love writing for them, so let’s celebrate with a challenge, shall we?

Since I reached the milestone before my 1 year anniversary I will as open up drabble requests using a prompts list - I’ll make a post about that as soon as I can.

Also, check out and please participate in my Spread the Love event for my 1 year anniversary.

This challenge is for you guys to have fun with. I set the due date a few months in the future to make sure you got plenty of time to complete it.

The prompts for this challenge are all dialogue prompts. They are all a little odd and a little sassy. Cause well I am a little odd and sassy ;) On to the rules and have fun Y'all!

Due Date: June 1st, 2019

Word min: 500 words

Word Max: 6k words

Style: It can be a drabble, one shot or beginning of a series. Do not put in in the middle of an ongoing series since I plan on reading them and don’t want to read 10 parts of something to understand the entry.

Fandom: MCU - mostly

Will you read and reblog my fic?

You betcha :D I am behind on reading for previous challenges so patience is a virtue here

When Do I Post?

Right now. Sign Ups start now and end when there are no more prompts or when the due date rolls around

Genre: Anything you want. You have to be over 18 if you write smut and you always have to warn accordingly! Fluff, angst, AUs, and crack are all welcome.

Limits on what you can write: No Mommy/daddy kinks, no non/dub con, no A/B/O, no merpeople. No half animal anything, please. No mobster aus. No monster porn (this counts Venom and Hulk) No glorification on cheating (it’s okay as a plot device but use it with thought), no wife, s/o (even exes) or actor hate in rpfs! - if you got any questions at any time feel free to send me an ask,

NO BDSM INVOLVING BUCKY - NEITHER IN SHIPS OR READER INSERTS! PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL OF HIS PTSD! DON’T TURN HIS ARM INTO A KINK FOR ANYONE - IT’S A DISABILITY AND CONNECTED TO GREAT TRAUMA. 

Format: State in your A/N that it is for my (until-theend-oftheline) Kari’s Marvelous 2K Challenge. And use the # Kari’s Marvelous 2K Challenge in the first 5 tags.

Pairing and word count also have to be easy to spot in your header!

Submit: After you posted on Tumblr you have to add yourself and your fic to this doc.  If you don’t do this you will not be added to the masterlist I create when the challenge is over. If you got questions - just ask :D

Doc link it case Tumblr is an ass: https://docs.google.com/document/d/16FmPbXuA6oF23M5qiR5jRCSiUpaW_RiDIPUHG_LziBk/edit?usp=sharing

How do I join?

You pick a prompt and a pairing off the list. Send me the prompt number along with a backup just in case and your pairing of choice. ASKS ONLY!! REPLIES, REBLOGS AND IMS WILL BE IGNORED!

There are no limits on the pairings but I only allow 2 people per prompt so think before you sign up. If you don’t think you will be doing it then don’t take the spot from someone else. For now, 1 person can sign up 3 times (one prompt per story). 

Prompts and people are under the cut.

Pairings

No male readers - gender neutral are fine otherwise female.

General Fics - character or rpf are both fine.

All genders, skin tones etc. OCs are welcome as well.

Sister/daughter/romantic/friendship reader pairings for following are all fine - just let me know which (I prefer romantic or friendship but no pressure):

Actors

Sebastian Stan

Chris Evans

Bradley Cooper

Chris Hemsworth

Robert Downey Jr.

Tom Hiddleston

Elizabeth Olsen

Tom Hardy

Characters

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Thor Odinson

Tony Stark

Wanda Maximoff

Sam Wilson

Brunnhilde/Valkyrie

Natasha Romanoff

Clint Barton*

Wade Wilson

Eddie Brock (no monster porn please!)*

Ships (all are allowed as poly with reader too):

Stucky*

Winterwitch*

Winterwidow

Winterhawk*

Winterfalcon*

Sam x Clint (I don’t know their ship name)

Clintasha

Steggy

Thundershield

Thor x Valkyrie (also forgot the ship name)

Prompts

1 “I’ve never been so insulted!” - “You don’t listen much do you?” @jewelswrites-ish (Chris Evans x Reader) / @avengerscompound (Winterhawk)

2 “On a scale of one to Australia. How dangerous are we talking?” @avengerscompound (clintasha) /

3 “When did you become so smart, oh wise one?” - “Since I stopped listening to you.” @writing-mermaid (Tony x sister!reader) /

4 “Seven billion people in the world and you are overreacting because we killed one man.” - “But…” - “Seven billion people! Now shut up and drink your smoothie!” @queen-of-the-avengers (Tony x Reader) /

5 “Oh God. I think I am in love” - “For your sake, I wouldn’t tell her/him that” @docharleythegeekqueen (Winterhawk x Reader) /

6 “Don’t trust him” - “Funny that’s exactly what he said about you” @readitandweepfics (Steve x Reader) /

7 “Children shouldn’t play with guns” - “Who said I was playing”

8 “On a scale of one to ten how bad do you think it would be if….” - “At least twenty” @fangirlfiction (Stucky x Reader) / @queen-of-the-avengers (Tony x Reader)

9 “What’s our exit strategy?” - “Our what?” - “Ohmygod we’re going to die” @acreativelydifferentlove (Steve Rogers x Reader) /

10 “I taught you how to pick locks and this is how you are using that skill?” @messy-random-bitch (Clint Barton) /

11 “What’s the little blinking light mean?” - “It means…. Wait? Blinking?!”

12 “Right now I don’t know if I want to kiss you or push you off the cliff!” - “Can I pick?”  @sweeetmonstrosity  (Sam Wilson x Reader) / @averyrogers83  (winterfalcon x reader)

13 “This is what the third time I crashed my own funeral” - “Fifth” - “Really? That many?”

14 “Bring them home. All of them.” - “But…” - “All. Of. Them.” - “Fine!”

15 “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” - “And I am subtly trying to avoid it.”

16 “What’s with the face?” - “Small fire! I said to set a small fire. Small was important!” @queen-of-the-avengers (Natascha Romanoff x Reader) /

17 “What the hell kinda noise was that?” - “I sneezed.” - “That was NOT a sneeze!” @jewels2876 (Chris Evans x Reader) /

18 “You got blood on your knees. No one goes nowhere and gets blood on their knees.”

19 “Is that blood?” - “No?” - “That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question!” @nekoannie-chan (Steve Rogers x Reader) / @becs-bunker (Stucky x Reader)

20 “Obviously I’ve been gone for way too long. You managed to kill all the houseplants” @awkwardfangirl2014 (Bucky Barnes x Reader) / @queen-of-the-avengers (Tom Hiddleston x Reader)

21 “Don’t you know who I am?” - “Yup. I just don’t care.” @queen-of-the-avengers (Elizabeth Olsen x Reader) /

22 “You’re going to break his heart if you pull a stunt like this” - “He has a heart?”  @keepgrindingwaywardsoul (Bucky Barnes x Reader) /  @yougetkilled-walkitoff (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

23 “Sorry I got a cold and feverish assassin on my lap. I’ll call you back when I convinced him a cold doesn’t mean he is dying.” @keepgrindingwaywardsoul (Bucky Barnes x Reader) /  @acreativelydifferentlove (Steve Rogers x Reader) 

24 “I hate you” - “Why? I’m lovely” @barnesrogersvstheworld (Bucky Barnes x Reader) / @queen-of-the-avengers (Natascha Romanoff x Reader)

25 “You’re one insult away from starting a war” - “That’s presumptuous of you. It already started”

26 “What are you doing in the chandelier?” - “You know. Just hanging out”

27 “Can we please try not to kill anyone today?” - “Well you are no fun”  @kentuckybarnes (Bucky Barnes x Reader) /

28 “You missed!” - “I never m… FUCK!”

29 “You nearly took my head off!” - “I told you to dug didn’t I?!” @raqnorok (Bucky Barnes x Reader) / 

30 “If you weren’t so goddamn annoying I would kiss you right now” - “Well if you weren’t such a pain in the ass…. Wait what?”  @tranquil—heart (Steve Rogers x Reader) / @awkwardfangirl2014  (Chris Evans x Reader)

MCU WRITING CHALLENGES 

@ifyougetkilled-walk-it-off @captain-rogers-beard @dolphinpink310 @grace-for-sale @docharleythegeekqueen @rebelslicious @thorne93 @hillywooddestiel @peterman-parker @queen-of-deans-booty @acreativelydifferentlove @emilyevanston @blacktithe7 @becs-bunker @roxyspearing @blacktithe7 @cassiefanfic @readitandweepfics @kayla-of-shield @fangirlextraordinaire @thatfanficstuff @danijimenezv @hopes-archer @marvel_madam08 @averyrogers83 @thelookingglassalice @slowlywithfreedom @awkwardfangirl2014

And a few others cause I love their writing

@jewels2876 @becs-bunker @roxyspearing @barnesrogersvstheworld @sebs-potato @moonbeambucky @tropicalcap @softlybarnes @bucky-at-bedtime @evanstarff @fangirlfiction @i-dont-do-rpfs @avengerscompound