#go to the store yourself you fucking bitch if one mistake is gonna bring out your triggering bitch ass attitude

[crashingwavesinmyworld]

I fucking hate my mom and if I can’t move out soon I will kill myself

[fuck-customers]

I would like examine the brains of (well...most customers to find out wtf is wrong with them, but this one customer specifically) this one regular.

I do not know why this miserable old bat keeps shopping here. To make our day worse? Probably.

There's this one regular that I call Butthole Face, because she's always pissed off and her mouth is always scowling and scrunched and it formed lines around her mouth making it look like a bootyhole, so...Butthole Face is her name in my head.

(Her real name is actually Karen, which is...so fitting)

ANYWAY, Butthole Face has been shopping at my work/my particular location for at least 5 years, probably more. I know this because I had coworkers who worked here longer than me who told me she had been coming in since THEY started. She complains about anything and everything. Every. Single. Time she comes in the store.

Her main "complaint" 99% of the time used to be that "the bathrooms were FILTHY!!" but it was her who was full of shit, because every time she bitched and moaned, we (a lot of times I, personally) would actually go and check it to see if we needed to clean or close them. And every single time, the "huge, FILTHY mess" was...a single piece of (CLEAN) toilet paper on the ground. Or a (CLEAN) paper towel on the ground that someone missed throwing in the garbage can. Thank fuck the bathrooms are closed now.

Butthole Face would also complain that the store itself was "filthy" or that a specific area/aisle was "filthy" when 90% of the time, there was one item out of place.

Her other stunt was never "understanding" the sale signs and always bringing up items that were not on sale and insisting the were when really they were just NEXT to the sale items. The first time, that's an honest mistake. The 100th? We don't buy it, bitch. (And to be clear, it was always stuff that was not even a little bit similar to the sale sign. The sale sign would say the yarn was bogo and she would bring up a thread and blame us when it wasn't on sale) Every time, Butthole Face would demand a manager to "prove" to the manager that she was right and every time, the manager or another coworker would bring up the paper sale sign, prove to the bitch that those items were not part of the sale, then she'd claim that we were breaking the law for "false advertising" which....is not how that works. lmao You misunderstanding a sale sign isn't false advertising. And even if we were actually false advertising...so? You really think anyone is gonna bother prosecuting me, personally, a lowly employee for it? Get real.

I'm not sure if she's just a heinous bitch with no life or hobbies and has nothing better to do or if she's trying very, very badly to scam the store. Which, if she is....give up? You've fucked up by making yourself so noticeable and unbearable that every employee recognizes you on sight because they've had an unpleasant experience with you in the past and you're an known attempted scammer/complainer so we keep an eye on you. (I, personally warn the new hires about her, so even new people who haven't had an interaction with her yet know of Butthole Face)

Posted by admin Rodney.

[its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons]

pairings: Lucifer x Fem!Reader, Mammon x Fem!Reader, Leviathan x Fem!Reader

warnings: tw abandonment (but it turns out okay, I promise), mentions of the act of birthing,

A/N: you came to the right place! as the second oldest of six children, I have some experience when it comes to pregnancy:) I hope you don't mind, nonny, but I'm gonna split this up into a few parts so I can do the dateables as well!

Lucifer

The moment you had shyly produced the positive pregnancy test from the pocket of your hoodie, it felt like Lucifer had entered into a fever dream filled with nursery designs, baby names, the expenses that pile up before the baby even arrives, researching human pregnancy, keeping you out of harm's way and healthy and happy...

So when you first stagger out of bed and rush to his bathroom, hand clamped over your mouth and one shaky hand on your slightly swollen tummy, Lucifer isn't surprised

He is very concerned, however. You had been so nervous to tell him of your pregnancy, you waited until the last moment before your bump was noticeable to tell him

That meant you had been suffering from all of these pregnancy side effects before he'd permanently moved you to sleep in his room

Lucifer hoists himself out of bed and pads into the bathroom, gathering up your hair, if any, into his fist and pulling your hunched form between his legs for support

You hate this feeling with a passion; throbbing stomach and a lump in your throat with little to no vertigo and tears rolling down your face as you try and catch your breath

You tell him it hurts, you ask him if he can take the pain away as your head rests on his chest, lashes fluttering with wooziness

Lightheadedness was unbearably common; you would suddenly grip his sleeve and he could watch the color drain from your face and your knees get shaky, body beginning to sway

He always catches you though, finding a place for you to sit or lie down and gather yourself

Tummy rubs become more common; the feeling of his hands against your bare tummy, spreading their warmth and nullifying the ache, allowing you to relax

He's extremely attentive as well and can tell whenever you need something

Water? Here's a cup sweetheart, remember, you're hydrating and eating for two people!

Craving something? Chocolate? Fried pickles? Chips of some kind? sweets? He's stockpiled anything you could want and locked it away just for you.

I feel like Lucifer would want your baby to be a little girl. A little princess he can carry on his shoulders and spoil with his love and gifts.

Satan ruined him for having another baby boy, but if that's how the cards fall, he certainly wouldn't mind. Unfortunately, he'd be constantly walking on eggshells, afraid he'll make your little boy into another rebellious child

That's the last thing he wants

Lucifer does his best to keep his kid away from Satan and Belphie and out of the 'Formerly Anti-Lucifer League', but sometimes you're taking a nap or out shopping with Asmodeus, and Satan and his brothers manage to coerce the little one into their shenanigans

One thing is for sure though, even if Lucifer didn't want any kids and the creation of one was unplanned, he would never ever turn you away

He's very responsible and does anything in his power to make the pregnancy as easy and happy as possible

On the day you are to give birth, he's a mess

He has already sweat through 3 shirts by the time the IV has been secured to your hand

Everything he says doesn't come without a stutter

He's squeezing your hand and kissing your hair during labor, trying to distract you from the burn between your legs as much as he can

You probably need extra stitches from baby's horns ngl

Definitely cries before the baby is even put in your arms

Refuses to let his brothers come and see you, "They can wait until we go home."

Lucifer is Smitten™

He smooches the tiredness under your eyes and tells you to get some rest

Surprisingly, he enjoys a lot of the names from the human world you discuss and will most likely pick one of those

But if it's a girl, her name is Lilith. I'm sorry MC, your input is invalid at this time

You don't regret 'final day in the devildom sex' at all when you get to witness the Avatar of Pride reduced to tears when the nurse puts the child in his arms

P-P-Pregnant? MC, ya better be jokin'...

Mammon

You weren't, judging by the pregnancy test(s) clutched in your fist

He's not mad at you, he's not upset, (in fact, he's the happiest he's ever been), he just scared

Broken Condom Victim™

He loved you just a bit too hard last week...

but let's be real here, HIS MC, carrying HIS baby?

That's like the highest level of ownership on his lovely human you could get! Levi, Asmo, Beel, Lucifer, everyone would be SOOOO JEALOUS!!!

AND

He gets to have a little one running around again!

You saw how sweet he was to babified Satan in the obey me anime premier! He LOVES little kids and nothing would make him happier than someone to play with (besides MC of course) that wouldn't make fun of him for messing up and being silly!

AND

You're so pretty!!

I mean, ya were always pretty, but somethin' about ya is different and yer even more beautiful than before somehow!

Mammon said, his entire face the shade of a pomegranate

Pregnancy glow is REAL

Asmo agrees, after stealing you away from an extremely overprotective mammon and hiding in the attic to chat without disturbance (mammon)

But as much as YOU know he would be the BEST father, comments from his brothers continue to drag him down and the evenings he cried into your shoulder became more and more frequent as your pregnancy progresses

Mammon, as we all know, is, in fact, a tiddy man

He likes to touch and squeeze them, and just gently hold them while cuddling or even browsing in a store, he'd just come up behind you and touch your boobs

(also, mammon likes all sizes, so if you have next to no tiddy like me, you'll be at his mercy as well. those with the large honkers, however, watch yourself)

Now that there's a miracle growing in your tummy, other parts of your body are preparing for its arrival, including your chest

Swelling, swelling, soreness, growing and darkening of the nipples, and swelling make it so Mammon can no longer touch your pretty tiddies :(((

(grammarly didn't like that word)

On the day mammon snack size was to be born, mammon is silent but extremely fidgety

It was early in the morning when you'd shaken him awake like, "mammoney, I'm going into labor" and he was out of bed and out the door with your luggage before you finished blinking

After grabbing your DDD's and you, he carries you down to the car (what dysfunctional family doesn't have a car? a nice one (Mercedes, Audi, you get the idea) for lucifer and a Volkswagon bus or something for his siblings to share) and drives quickly, but very carefully drives to the hospital, holding your hand the whole way.

He covers your eyes when they put the IV in, just in case you're squeamish, and rubs your arms as the drugs begin to take effect and there's a little fear in your eyes at the thought of pushing an entire human/demon being out of your coochie

He assures you and never lets go of your hand no matter how long you're in labor

When it's all over with and you are resting in your hospital bed waiting for the doctors to finish the Apgar tests and give you your baby

Mammon is speechless as the nurse places the baby in your arms

That's HIS KID!!

Immediately starts crying

The little horns poking out of the blanket? Those look just like his!!

Judging by the bit of hair on it's head, it looks like the baby will have hair like yours

If it's a baby boy, he thinks it should be named "Mammon II" but you just giggle and remind him of the deal he made with lucifer long ago, that his first born child, no matter the gender, had to have 'Lucifer' somewhere in their name

Human names are dumb, except for yours of course, so he searches for suitable demon names

The last thing he wants is a kid named Lucifer, so that will be the kid's middle name

He really regrets his past decisions now

Leviathan

"Levi?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I'm pregnant."

*leviathan has been KO'd*

No joke, this man is literally floored and didn't wake up for a while and you were afraid you had just slain the fucking Lord of Shadows

Some Henry you were

You had to call Lucifer in to wake him up because he was still flat on the floor a half and hour later

Mammon is more that happy to tip a bucket of ice water on the face of the son of a bitch that impregnated HIS MC

Levi wakes up and pounces on you, gripping you tightly by the arms

"You're k-kidding r-right?"

Him? A father?

Uhhhhhhh

Unfortunately, Leviathan.exe has stopped working, try again in two thousand years

I hate to say this, but he definitely detaches himself for a while until his brothers, especially Asmodeus, literally beat him into shape

He comes back to you, a little bruised and sobbing, but not from the beating he just received

He's so sorry he neglected you! He's such a horrible demon, undeserving of your welcoming nature

He's gonna be the worst dad, and he's not good enough for you, and his kid will hate him just like everyone else does, he doesn't deserve you, he's so sorry for making you suffer the side effects and feel all alone,

Sir, I-

FALSE

It's your turn to shake some sense into him, reminding him that he would be the. best. dad!!

Not to mention the fact that you were just happy he realized his mistakes and came back to you

He begs you to sleep in his bed tub with him for security, and you have to admit his tail is very comforting

Levi does extensive research on human pregnancy and now at the dinner table, instead of talking about the latest slice of life anime he'd been watching, he's just spouting random pregnancy facts and you're laughing so hard it brings you to tears

When the weird dreams and vivid nightmares happen, Levi is right behind you, rubbing your swollen tummy, and letting you talk about them

A lot of them were about him and about your future child

Most of them were about how they got hurt in some way, either that or YOU got hurt and the baby died

These, more often than not, brought you to tears and stress you out, but Levi is right there, okay? Nothing can hurt you, nor would he let anything happen to you on his watch

Learns how to massage you (safely) to reduce stress

Definitely talks to the baby a lot

Levi begged you to be induced so the birth was safe and not a sudden occasion and you agree

On the day the doctor recommended, you arrived at the hospital and got down to business

Levi didn't really want to be in the room with you, but he knew he had to for your sake and he'd played a few birth simulators from both perspectives and you really needed him

Kinda sits there awkwardly comforting you and encouraging you, holding your hand and caressing your cheeks, a bit flushed from exertion and tears

Listen

If the baby is a boy, his name will be Henry and that's final

If it's a girl, he doesn't really care, as long as you don't name her 'mammonia' or something dumb like that

definitely crashes your hospital bed to snuggle until the baby is ready

cries when the baby wraps its extremely small digits around one of his own

also at the little horns protruding from its head

and the tuft of purple in its head

Also Smitten™

He's so excited to get home and show off his beautiful baby to his brothers and then formulate a plan to raise the kid to live and breathe TSL just like his daddy <3

--

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[vendettaparker]

What a Dumbass [P.P]

Summary: Peter’s mistake leads to you being injured. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Swearing, like a substantial amount, suggestive content kinda, gun shot wound, and flustered!Peter 

a/n: I really liked writing this. I couldn’t stop laughing at some of the dialogue. and the mistake peter made to cause the whole set-up of the story is so funny to me. like i can legit see him making this mistake. also, i’m gonna make a permanent tag list, so please send me an ask or message me if you want to be on it! <3

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Peter Benjamin Parker is a fucking dumbass. All the time mostly. Most of the time his dumbassery leads to a lot of annoyed avengers, a lot of clean up, and a lot of spilled secrets. Hence why like three people who definitely shouldn’t know he is Spider-man do. But every once in while his idiocy can lead to an unexpected happily ever after, at least until he fucks something up again. 

     This particular fuck up has yet to be determined as a happy accident or your new 13th reason. It all started when that spider bitch decided it’d be a good idea to watch some explicit content on his laptop. Now, this wasn’t particularly an unknown activity for him to partake in, since we all know about his little impromptu purchase in Germany, but unbeknownst to this dork, his aunt was in the next room over working on a tear in his suit. And to make matters worse, he accidentally just so happened to purchase a subscription using said aunt’s credit card that was pre-setup in his laptop. 

     Now May is a very understanding woman. Very sex-positive, very loving, and inclusive; the whole shebang really. So when she happened to catch this idiot doing what he most certainly shouldn’t have been doing, she wasn’t mad, just thoroughly disturbed. Then she got the notification about the purchase. That was a bit more taboo in her eyes. So Peter was grounded from patrolling for a week and his laptop privileges were revoked for two weeks. That was fucking merciful compared to what this whole fuck up put you through. 

     At the school that following Monday, Peter spent the whole first, second, fourth, and lunch period trying to convince you to take over patrol for a week. Sure, you could definitely handle it, not to pat yourself on the back or anything, but you were significantly stronger than Peter, so it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But you just really didn’t want to. Peter had his ‘Peter Tingle’ to help him find danger, while you’d actually have to look. It just seemed harder for you to do than it would be for him. 

     “Why are you even grounded?” You sighed after Peter's 3rd time bringing up the possibility of you patrolling for him at lunch. 

     “He got caught watching and buying p—” Ned started laughing.

     “Ned! Shut up!” Peter yelled, slapping his hand over his friend's mouth. 

     “How has your identity not been leaked yet, Jesus Christ.” You mumbled, giggling. You flipped through your chemistry textbook, writing notes to prepare for Friday’s quiz. 

     “Yeah, and how come you didn’t know May was home?” Ned pushed Peter’s hand away. “Where was your ‘Peter Tingle’ then?” 

     “She’s not a threat, dude. But shit, I really wish my tingle detected her.” Peter groaned, a deep blush covering his features. “Please (Y/N). I really, really don’t wanna leave Queens without any protection for a week. I’ll try to convince May to let me go out on the weekend, so really it’s only five days.” 

     “I guess I could help you out, but you owe me. I should really spend this time studying for my chemistry test. Iron bitch is gonna have my head on a spike if I fail another chem test.” You said, highlighting more notes. 

     “Okay! Delmar’s for a week, anytime, anywhere.” Peter said putting his hand out for you to shake. 

     “Make it a month, I know my worth.” 

     Peter hesitated, but eventually gave in, “Fine, but you better do a good job.” 

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     So now you were stuck patrolling from 8:30 to 11:00 every night. It wasn't bad per se, and nothing too eventful happened. You stopped a small convenience store robbery, gave a few kids some tips at the skatepark, ran some errands for an old lady, and saved a cat from a tree. Thursday night was the real kicker though. Your night had barely started and you accidentally got in the middle of a drug deal between some smaller mob and a real messed-up junkie. This should’ve been an easy takedown, only six people in total that needed to be taken out, but like was mentioned before, you don’t have Peter’s goddamn, stupid fucking tingle. So after taking all six of the perps out you started to walk away after alerting the police. Unfortunately, one of those assclowns had come to, and grabbed the gun a few feet away from him and shot it towards you. The bullet went through your thigh and out the other side. Screaming in shock and pain, you used your own throwing knives and knocked the gun out of the mobster’s hand, then you proceeded to knock him out again with a few good punches to his noggin, maybe a few more, just for good measure. But this wound would need to be cleaned and stitched up. And if you went back to the Tower, Steve and Tony would give you an earful about “watching your surroundings” and “being more careful”. So in a moment of pure adrenaline and desperation, you texted Peter. 

You: are you home

Spider-Dork: Yeah, why?

You: i’ll be there in 5 

Spider-Dork: What? Why? Is everything ok?

Spider-Dork: Hello??? (Y/N)????

(Y/N) declined (3) calls 

Spider-Dork: Answer my calls idiot. 

     Peter’s texting and constant calling was cut short from a crash in his room. 

     “(Y/N)? Is that you?” Peter called from the couch in the living room. 

     “Yeah, can I borrow a t-shirt?” You called, fumbling around accidentally knocking over another lamp. “Oops, sorry!”

     “Uh, yeah sure. In the closet!” Peter called back pausing his show, prepared to make his way over to you. 

     “And some sweats?” You called back, blood dripping all over Peter’s hardwood floor. 

     Peter got up to make his way to his room. “Yeah, second drawer on the left side.” He said as he made his way to his bedroom. Knowing you were in there, most likely changing, he knocked. “You decent?” 

     “Nope, not really. I need a pair of your boxers too, though.” You called through the door, now seeing that the blood splattered on your underwear as well. “Also, bring the first aid kit when you come in.” 

     ‘What? Why?” Peter said in a more stressed tone, pushing his way into the room, completely ignoring the fact that you were very much not decent. “Holy shit.” He said seeing you out of your suit, in your bra and underwear, blood dripping down your right leg, pooling onto the floor. Your hand, red and bloody, pressed onto what he only assumed was the wound and blood seeping through your fingers. 

     “Bring a mop too.” 

     Peter ran out of the room to grab the first aid kit, plus some extra bandages and a cleaning solution. When he came back in he found you in the same state, standing in the middle of the room, eyebrows furrowed in pain, clutching your right thigh. 

     “What the hell happened?” He gasped, motioning for you to sit on his bed. You hesitated, not wanting to mess up his sheets. He seemed to notice your thought process quickly adding, “I have to wash my sheets anyway.” 

     “Gross.” You mumbled, scrunching up your face in disgust and finally settling down on his bed. 

     “Move your hand and tell me what happened,” Peter said kneeling on the floor next to the bed, positioned right at your hips. You removed your hand, bloody instantly seeping onto the bed. Peter winced looking at the hole in your leg, quickly grabbing the peroxide and dumping heaps of it onto your leg, much to your distaste. 

     “I got shot.” You stated as he cleaned the blood around the hole with alcohol pads.

     “Well, no shit. I mean by who and how?” 

     “Mobster. Sneaky bitch got me while I was walking away.” You winced as Peter inspected the wound further. 

     “I need to stitch this up. Did it go all the way through?” He said lifting your leg to look underneath for an exit wound. 

     “Yeah.” Peter found the exit wound and held your leg up with one hand, pouring peroxide on the back of your thigh with the other. 

     “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)! This looks really nasty.” Peter scolded, setting your leg back down and prepping the needle and sutures. “What if this was in your chest? Or—or if you didn’t get here in time? You could’ve bled out!” 

     “Well sorry that I don’t have your stupid tingle to help me out when I’m being fucking shot at!” You yelped, gripping the bedsheets. 

     “You don’t need spidey sense, you need fucking common sense,” Peter mumbled, stitching his first suture.

     “What the fuck did you just say?” You looked at him incredulously. 

     “I— uh, nothing.” Peter huffed, focusing back on stitching you up.

     “This is your all your fault, to begin with!” You accused, shifting uncomfortably, due to the needle constantly being stuck into your leg. “You’re the one that begged me to go on patrol for you! You’re the dumb bitch that got caught watc—” 

     “Ok! Shut up! For God’s sake, you’re never gonna let me live that down.” Peter groaned, finishing up the last stitch. “Flip over.” He commanded, pushing at the side of your waist to help with the movement. 

     “Well, it was fucking dumb. Don’t you check to make sure nobody’s home? God, we all know you’re a vocal bitch too.” You said, fully situated on your stomach. 

     “What the fuck is that suppose to mean!?” He gasped, prepping another needle. 

     “You’re a sensitive boy.” You shrugged, wincing when Peter started his next stitch. 

     “I-I am not sensitive! I’m emotionally and physically staunch!” He defended, going in for another stitch. 

     You just raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Sure, whatever you say, babe.” You winked at him, blowing an exaggerated kiss. 

     “You're a jerk,” Peter mumbled, finishing up his stitching job. “A jerk with a fucked up leg.” 

     You hummed, quite amused. Peter got up and started to collect his medical supplies. He shuffled out of the room to put everything away. When he returned you were trying to get up and walk, wincing at every slight movement. 

     “Here, let me just—” Peter lifted you up, bridal style. A small yelp coming from you when a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Sorry.”

     “It’s fine. Can you help me get dressed?” You said as he walked you over to his desk and set you down in his desk chair. 

     “Sure.” Peter blushed, painfully aware of your lack of clothes. He picked out some clothes from his closet and drawers. He helped you into them, wallowing in the uncomfortable silence, taking in each whimper and wince from you whenever he brushed against your thigh. 

     “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He sighed after you were all dressed. “This is my fault.” 

     You looked at his distraught face, feeling bad for initially blaming him for the events of tonight. “No, Pete. It’s fine. I should’ve made sure all of the guys were knocked out.” You put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

     “No, I should’ve been more careful when I was watching that stuff. I have my spidey sense, I would’ve been able to avoid getting shot. It’s not your fault that you didn’t get bit by a radioactive spider.”

     “Pete, really, I’ll be better by next week anyway. It’s fine.” 

     Peter shook his head, sighing. “I just feel so bad, I shouldn’t have forced patrolling on you.” You hugged him and rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s my fault you got hurt.” 

     “Peter stop. It’s just an unfortunate accident.” You mumbled, hugging him closer. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”

     “But it didn’t happen to just anyone (Y/N), it happened to you. And I caused it. I-I don't know what I’d do if something ever happened to you. What if it was worse?”

     You sighed, pulling away from Peter and cupping his face, seeing the regret and shame pooling in his eyes. Without much thought, you pulled him closer, slowly connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. Truly getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the feeling of perfection. 

     Peter’s eyes widened in shock for a moment, before he was kissing you back, reveling in the feeling he’s been dreaming about for months. You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter flushed at your actions, unable to stop the wide smile crossing his features. 

     “Sorry,” You mumbled sheepishly, “just needed to shut you up for a second.”

     “Maybe I should talk more, just to see what happens,” Peter smirked, pulling you in for another shorter, but just as sweet, kiss. 

     You hummed against his lips. “I really like you. Even when you're a dumbass.” You sighed against his lips.

     “The feeling is mutual.” 

     “Rude. I’m not a dumbass.” You gasped in faux offense. 

     “You’re the one with a bullet wound.” he deadpanned 

     “You’re the one who got caught watchin—”

     “(Y/N)!”

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Epilogue

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: The final part!! This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 Hopefully you’ve guessed by now that is my “Billy Russo Deserves Real Love AU” as I totally refuse to accept what happened in S2! The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

Six Months Later

You opened up your eyes slowly, becoming aware of a finger trailing gently down your arm; it felt like a butterfly fluttering on your skin. Two dark chocolate eyes were gazing down into yours, sparkling with mischief.

“Good morning, Mrs Russo,” a very self-satisfied Billy Russo whispered, smiling at you.

You yawned, stretching out out your limbs and enjoying the feeling of a light breeze on your body coming through the patio doors.

“Morning, Billy,” you replied, reaching up and kissing his lips, scratching a finger along his bristly jaw. “And how is my wife this morning?” he asked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “I’m good... actually, very good,” you smiled up at him. “Just as well we’ve got our own villa, angel. You were so noisy last night, screaming my name,” he teased.

Getting up, you stretched again, aware of Billy’s eyes on you as you picked up your little silky robe, slowly putting it on and enjoying the disappointed look on his face. “That’s just to big up your male ego, poppet,” you teased back. He flung himself onto his back on the bed, faux-sulking, “How can you say that, sweetheart?! ....after I kept you up half the night making love to you?”

“Only half the night? Would’ve thought the love god that is Billy Russo would be claiming it was all night!!” A pout instantly appeared on his handsome face and that was just too much, so you leant down over him, stroking his face and kissing him passionately. He grabbed you, pulling you down onto him and your robe came off a lot faster than it went on, unceremoniously dumped on the floor. “Ride me,” he whispered in your ear.

You had to bring him back down to earth though, as you quite urgently needed to visit the bathroom and so you’d extricated yourself from his arms and stood up, picking up your robe. The pout had got even poutier and his eyes looked huge as he gazed up at you from where he lay on the crisp white Egyptian cotton sheets. “Oh, okayyy,” he drawled, grinning, both hands going up behind his head as he lazed back on the pillows, “....so now we’re married, you’re gonna start slappin’ sex bans on me, huh?” You slipped your robe back on and put your hands on your hips, “Billy Russo! Don’t be such a drama king! You’d think you were on your honeymoon or something!” He just kept on grinning at you.

“Well! You either wait two minutes so I don’t have an accident on those lovely clean sheets, or maybe I’d better just call my divorce lawyer right now!” you mock-threatened. His face fell, “Angel! I’m only jokin’ y’know!” You burst out laughing, “Me too, you silly big sap! But not about going to the bathroom!” Flouncing out of the bedroom, hearing his answering laugh as you went.

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Once you were in the bathroom, you let your mind drift back over the last few days. You and Billy had been married just two days ago, a small wedding just as you both wanted with close family and friends only (Billy’s Marine buddies being his family). You’d had the most perfect day, but after all the planning and rushing around in the run-up to the big day, you felt as if it had all gone by in a flash. Whoosh - and it was all over. One minute Karen and your little cousin had been fussing round you, helping with your hair, your makeup, your dress, and in no time at all - it seemed - Billy was taking your hand and leading you out of the reception party, accompanied by a chorus of wolf whistles and catcalls.

You two had stayed that night in the beautiful hotel in upstate New York where the wedding had been held. Billy had picked you up ‘bridal style’ while you were in the hotel elevator and then carried you along the corridor to your suite, kicking the door shut behind him and laying you gently down on the bed. Then he had slowly and sensually slid your wedding dress and underskirts up over your thighs, smile as bright as the sun as he ran his hands over your stockings and garter belt, pushed aside your lacy underwear and had taken you right there and then, whispering to you all the while that now you were truly his.

The next day, you and Billy had flown from JFK to Ibiza in the Balearic Islands, Spain. He’d been surprised when you’d said where you wanted to go for your honeymoon. He thought you’d want to go to the Caribbean or the Maldives or suchlike. But you’d spent some very happy times there when you were on your travels a while back, and you knew he’d love the laid-back vibe of the island.

So he’d booked a luxurious villa for a whole month, in the pine-clad hills above a large cove with a beach called Cala Llonga, east of Ibiza Town. The aromatic scent in the air was truly intoxicating and you closed your eyes, inhaling it from the small breeze making its way through the bathroom window, open just a tiny bit.

You sighed happily; both workplaces had been asked to contact you only in a dire emergency and with Frank and Jake left in charge while you and Billy were on honeymoon, after initially being anxious about being away for so long you now felt surprisingly relaxed about it.

Washing your hands and making your way back to the bedroom, you smiled as you saw your new husband sprawled out on the bed, naked and looking at you with a devilish smirk on his handsome face.

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Billy happily stretched out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and hearing the water running in the bathroom in the background. The more he thought about it, the more he could hardly believe it - he’d actually managed to persuade her to marry him. He really thought he’d blown it when he’d proposed the first time. When she’d changed her mind and said ‘Yes’, he’d been so happy he thought he’d explode like a human hand grenade.

Still somewhat surprised about his complete turnaround from playboy to lovesick sap, he’d decided long before the wedding to just lie back and accept what the Fates had in store for him. Maybe they’d decided to give him some good karma for a change, after his solitary and loveless childhood and the difficulties he’d had after he left the Marines.

He thought back to just before the wedding ceremony, when Frank had been helping him tie his silver silky cravat after he’d put on his fancy morning suit and dress shirt. His big friend had suddenly clasped his shoulder, saying gruffly, “Bill.... you’ve finally got a chance to be ‘Happy Ever After’, y’know bud. Don’t fuck it up, whatever you do.”

Grabbing the big paw on his shoulder, he’d said sincerely, “I won’t, Frankie... believe me, I won’t.”

He’d also thought about a text he’d received the night before the wedding, and which he’d decided not to mention to his girl. Because it was from Madani. She’d heard the news about Billy getting married from Sam, who he’d met by chance in a local bar a few days before the wedding.

Typical vitriolic Madani, he thought. Saying how he was making a big mistake and he’d regret it in the end. Meaning, of course, because he hadn’t chosen her. Hadn’t even wished the two of you well, couldn’t bring herself to make even that small concession.

Bitch. He’d angrily deleted the text along with the whole string of her past messages, and had then deleted her contact details out of his phone. A feeling of great satisfaction had washed over him as he’d hit the ‘Delete Contact’ button on Dinah Madani. Gone and very definitely forgotten.

Now he looked over to see his angel walking back towards him, looking totally edible in her silky robe.

Grinning, he patted the sheet next to him, “C’mere, sweetheart....”

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Billy grabbed your wrist, pulling you down next to him and pouncing on top of you. The robe came off again and he was kissing you hungrily, appetite undiminished even after your mutual athletics the night before. He ran his hands all over you, pulling your body closer against his, telling you how much he loved you, wanted you, needed you. Then he rolled over onto his back, grinning over at you, “C’mon, angel... I need you to ride me.”

Grinning back at him, “Might do,” you replied. He shook his head, “No, really.... angel... you need to do it and do it now.” You also lay down on your back, “What’s the consequences if I don’t?” you teased. He looked horrified, “You sayin’ No to me?” You shrugged, smirking. “Angel! Please.... what... uhhh... do I gotta beg?” You nodded, “I think you do.” So Billy sighed, getting up and then kneeling beside the bed, hands clasped together and held up in supplication to you, “Please, goddess, m’beggin’ you.... pleeeease! Please!”

From your lofty perch on the bed, you looked down at the male masterpiece currently on his knees in front of you. The early morning sun highlighted his sculpted muscles to perfection, including the delicious-looking erection he was sporting, and you couldn’t keep up the pretence any longer. You reached down and grabbed a handful of his hair, tugging on it several times as his now-grinning face looked up at you.

“Ahhh... so I got the green light, goddess?” You nodded imperiously, and he leapt up and onto the bed at the speed of light. You pushed his shoulders down into the pillows and climbed on top of him, seeing his eyes widen in anticipation. Leaning over, you slid your fingers to the back of his neck and began gently stroking, then took his ‘tache between your lips and sucked gently, before running your tongue over it and then sucking again. Hearing small whimpers coming from him, you moved on to the tufty bit of beard under his bottom lip, giving it the same treatment. Then you ran your tongue very slowly over his bottom lip and suddenly you heard an agonised ‘Fuck!” from Billy, and wetness spread over your stomach and thighs.

Sitting up, you looked down in surprise at the sheen you could see glinting on your skin. A very sheepish-looking Billy was gazing up at you, “Uhhh....m’sorry, angel,” he whispered, “....y’got me too excited.” He covered his eyes with one big hand, then you saw two dark chocolate eyes peeking out between his fingers at you. “Are you mad at me?” he asked, somewhat fearfully. You leant down and kissed his nose, “No! Course not, Billy.”

He slid his hand away from his face, “Really? Been goin’ on at you to ride me then don’t even get inside you before.....!” and he gestured at the pearly liquid on your skin. His face was tinged pink by now, “M’so embarrassed!” he wailed. “Honestly, Billy.... I’m not mad at you,” you said, tweaking his nose between finger and thumb before getting up and heading through to the bathroom. Grabbing a handful of baby wipes you went back to the bedroom, sitting on the bed and quickly cleaning yourself up before teasing Billy by running a baby wipe slowly and sensually along his velvety length. You heard some low soft moans from him, and knew it wouldn’t be very long before he was fully aroused again.

So you kept on stroking him. Laying the baby wipe aside, you continued using just your hand on him. “Sweetheart, what you tryin’ to do to me?” he asked in a breathy voice. “Oh, poppet.... I think you know exactly what I’m doing,” you smirked down at him, loving the way he looked at that moment, vulnerable and at your mercy, big wide eyes gazing up at you, lips parted slightly. You slid your hand in between his legs, taking hold of his balls, gently massaging and squeezing them while still working his cock with your other hand. He squirmed below you, breath catching in his throat, one hand going to the hand you were stroking him with and pulling it to the head of his cock. Taking the hint, you concentrated on it, squeezing and rubbing at it while Billy writhed under you, letting out a string of swears.

Then you decided to add a little something to the mix and leant down to lick him, letting your tongue drag over his tip back and forth with quite some force. Billy had cried out really quite loudly as you started doing that and you smiled, thinking he’d made a good point about having a private villa. You could both be really noisy when you wanted to be. Feeling him stiffening in your hand, you increased the speed and firmness of your stroking and also took him more fully into your mouth.

“Please.... sweetheart!” groaned Billy, “....gotta get inside you... please!!!” You could hear him beginning to pant so without further delay you guided him inside you, before sinking down onto his length. He gave a long low moan, while you gasped with pleasure as soon as he was fully sheathed inside you. Billy was giving out soft whimpering moans and began desperately thrusting up into you, hands running up the sides of your body onto your breasts and he began slowly massaging. In turn you started moving on him, hands on his chest, relishing the feeling of both his firm muscled body and how he filled you completely. “You...” Billy whispered, big dark eyes gazing up at you, “...you’re perfect for me, angel. Fit me like a glove.” His hand moved down to where your bodies were joined and began rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“Could say the same about you, Marine,” you breathed against his ear, leaning down and giving him a dirty open-mouthed kiss before moving your mouth onto his neck beard, and running your tongue over it. You felt Billy tense up and knew he was about to climax, and you felt your own orgasm building. Both of you were wound up tighter than springs! You wrapped your arms round your new husband’s shoulders and let the waves of pleasure roll over you.

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A lot later on, you and Billy strolled down to Cala Llonga and joined the small queue of people waiting on the little stone jetty for the water taxi to Ibiza Town. The boat was fairly small and you all crammed onto the wooden benches which filled most of it. Billy wrapped his arm round you, glaring at the Dutch guy sitting on the other side of you who’d been smiling and trying to make small talk with you. “We’re on honeymoon,” he growled at him, butting in just as the guy asked where you were staying. “Oh that’s great, congratulations!” he said, and you’d smiled at him, “Thank you.” Billy however was still glowering at the poor guy, so you elbowed him and he said reluctantly, “Yeah, thanks.”

You tried to distract Billy by pointing out several landmarks as the boat bobbed and puttered its way round the coast, and then the main town on the island came into sight as you rounded the last headland.

Billy gazed at the sight of the Dalt Vila (Old Town) in front of him and said in an awestruck voice, “Oh hey, that’s so pretty.” You smirked at him, “Told you you’d love it.” He looked back to you, “What’re our plans for this afternoon then?” Pleased that he was handing over the reins to you, smiling fondly at him you said, “Well, first of all I’m gonna make sure my hungry husband gets fed and watered. There are some lovely little outdoor restaurants along the marina.” You heard his stomach rumbling quietly as you mentioned food and he gave you a huge grin, “Now that’s what I call a plan.”

Stepping off the ferry, you guided him to one of the restaurants you’d eaten at before, and chose one of the tables at the front overlooking the yacht moorings. There were quite a few superyachts - some the size of small ocean liners - moored up so the oligarchs were in town, you thought to yourself.

The two of you enjoyed a leisurely lunch, before heading into the maze of narrow streets of the Old Town. Strolling right up to the old church at the very top of the hill, Billy oohing and ahhing at the whitewashed old houses and the view once you reached the church. He leant on the wall enclosing the courtyard in front of the church, looking out over the town, the two marinas and the surrounding hills and you heard a big happy sigh. He turned his head towards you, “This is perfect. You’re perfect. I love this place. And I love you.” He leant in for a kiss, and things started to get a bit raunchy before you heard a throat being cleared loudly behind you. The two of you broke apart, turning to find two elderly Spanish ladies glaring at you with outraged expressions on their faces.

You smiled at them, “Ah... lo siento, señoras, estamos en nuestra luna de miel.” Instantly, large smiles appeared on their faces and they moved away in a flurry of waving hands and staccato Spanish which you couldn’t quite catch. “What d’you say to them, sweetheart?” asked Billy. “That we’re on our honeymoon,” you grinned, “...didn’t understand all of the replies but rest assured, we’re forgiven!” He leaned in, “Well, reckon we should pick up where we left off then,” mouth back on yours. You surreptitiously ran a hand over the zip of his jeans and felt an interesting bulge there, hearing his low gasp, “Okay, but we better leave most of it till we get back to the villa... otherwise we’ll get arrested!” He sighed, nuzzling your neck, “Couldn’t we just go down one of these little streets an’.....” Laughing, you walked away holding out your hand to him, “No we can’t! C‘mon, tiger,” and with a pout firmly in place he followed, taking your hand in his.

Heading back down through Dalt Vila into the main part of town, you came to Paseo Vara de Rey, a wide, short tree-lined boulevard near the marina. In the evenings, the locals would come here for their before-dinner strolls, stopping for a chat with friends or a quick aperitif. It was just starting to get a bit busier as locals and tourists alike came along to enjoy the late afternoon sun.

You and Billy joined the strolling groups of people, looking in the shop windows and at people sitting in the open-air café sections, gradually making your way towards the marina end of the Paseo. Steering him towards a large hotel situated on the corner of Vara de Rey and into the cool white interior of its bar, you suggested he might want to buy you a cocktail. Leaning on the bar, he grinned at you, “Okay, I will... but then can we go back to the villa?”

“But why do you want to go back to the villa, Billy? I thought you were having a nice time here in town?” “I am!” he protested, “...and you know perfectly well why I wanna go back!” said with an accompanying eyebrow wiggle, “...we’re on our honeymoon!”

One of the barmen overheard him, “Ah, señor y señora! Let us make you very special cocktails in celebration of your wedding!!” Bill looked round, embarrassed, “Oh no.. s’okay, honestly - we’re fine, thanks.” Shaking his head vigorously, the barman grabbed a couple of cocktail shakers and tossed one of them to his co-worker, “But we must! It will take just a few moments.”

Then there was a flurry of pouring, shaking, ice, fruit and citrus slices being added before a couple of glasses were placed on the bar in front of you with a flourish. You and Billy eyed each other before taking a sip from your drinks. It was pleasant enough - you could taste rum and fruit - but not particularly what you’d’ve chosen for yourself. However, in the same spirit as the drinks were offered, you both made appreciative noises and thanked them profusely, before escaping to a table by the window overlooking Vara de Rey. Sitting down, Billy chuckled, “I guess I better learn to keep my big trap shut!” You agreed, “You’re forgetting that most of the locals speak really good English, so don’t be giving away any more of our secrets!” “What... like the fact you love my dick and think it’s really pretty?” he sniggered, while you slapped his arm, looking round quickly to make sure no-one had heard him.

Seeing no-one within earshot, you leant forward and said, “No... more like you telling me you’re in love with my ‘perfect pussy’ and how you’d be inside me 24/7 if you could be!” He snorted out some of his drink, and the two of you just sat and laughed at each other for a few moments in sheer happiness. “I love you,” he said, serious all of a sudden. “I mean, like really love you.” You smiled at him over the rim of your glass, “Well that’s good, Russo, cos I love you. Like, really love you.” Again, you sat looking at each other with goofy grins on your faces. You caught sight of both barmen looking over at you and smirking so you finished the last of your cocktail, purposefully making a noisy sucking sound through your straw as you did. “Hey, Billy... will we have one more drink and then head back?”

His eyes lit up, “Yeah!!! What d’ya want to drink this time round, angel?” “I’ll just have a mojito, please.” A few minutes later, a luscious mojito-filled glass was placed in front of you, while Billy had decided on a Sidecar, which he polished off in a few quick gulps and then sat looking expectantly at you. Shaking your head and laughing at him, you said, “I won’t be downing my lovely mojito as if it was a beer, Billy. I will be sipping it in a ladylike manner.” His face fell, “Oh.” “You’ll just have to be patient, loverboy.” He perked up a bit, “But if I’m a good patient boy, I’ll get a nice reward when we get back to the villa, yeah?” You patted his silky-haired head, “Yes, you will,” and couldn’t resist tugging on a few locks of it while you were at it. His grin grew devilish, “You wanna tug on something else, angel?” You slid your hand onto his thigh under the table, giving him a very innocent smile, “No, I am not going to lower the tone of this fancy hotel bar by misbehaving, Mr Russo.” His hand covered yours on his thigh and pulled it up onto his zip, “Well, I haveta say I’m very disappointed, Mrs Russo,” before bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it, putting on his best puppydog eyes and pout.

You had to admit, a frisson of excitement had run through you as he’d done that - Billy had made sure you realised he had an impressive erection. So in fact you picked up your mojito and drained the glass like a sailor who’d just hit a bar after six months at sea. “Okay, Billy,” you smirked, “....you win. Let’s go, tiger.” Billy sprang up from the table and pulled you by the hand towards the door, waving over at the barmen as he went, while you gave them a smile as you passed them.

Then you had to contend with an impatient Billy, pacing up and down at the marina while you were waiting on the water taxi back to Cala Llonga. Eventually it appeared, and Billy hustled you on board, making you sit at the back and beginning to kiss you as he boxed you into the corner seat. More passengers joined soon though and you pushed him back slightly, “Billy.... behave, please. We don’t want to upset any more people with PDA’s.” He grinned, “Okay, okay, I’ll keep my hands and my mouth to myself ... for now.” As the boat began to manoeuvre backwards and away from the quayside, you pointed at the town, “So, what did you think of Ibiza Town then?” Billy nodded, “Yeah, I loved it. It’s beautiful. But y’know, as long as you’re with me.... wherever we are, that’s what I really love.” You poked him in the side, “You big sap!” you laughed and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, “...but you’re my big sap, as they say.”

Those gorgeous dark eyes of his sparkled back at you, and his hand stroked your cheek, “Yeah I am, sweetheart... and that’s the most important thing. It’s all anyone needs to know about us. I’m yours, and you’re mine. And we’re in love. And together. Forever.” You put your lips next to his ear, “Yes, Billy... forever,” you whispered as the little boat carried the two of you away into the gathering dusk.

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Additional A/N: Hope you enjoyed this little journey with Billy and his sweetheart. All I ever wanted for Billy Russo was for him to be happy. Maybe we’ll meet these two again, who knows? Thanks so much for reading.

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@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry

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[jawritter]

Twelve Days Of Christmas

Summary: Dean never realized that Y/N missed Christmas until he turned off an annoying Christmas song on the radio on the way home from a hunt, now he will make it his personal mission to give her the Christmas he misses so much, and if he plays his cards right, maybe he will give her what he has wanted to give her for so many years, himself.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo​​​​

Square Field: Christmas Pajamas

Word Count: 1963

Warnings: Fluff, Dean on Ice Skates, lol. Fluff

A/N: This is to help me catch up on my SPN Christmas Bingo card lol Chapter 6 will post tomorrow! I knew chapter will post every day until Christmas! I know I’m insane lol. This is a real time fic collection and all mistakes will be my own! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy these!!

**SERIES MASTERLIST**  **MASTERLIST**  **BECOME A PATREON**

Hibbing, Minnesota was a small town that had an almost rustic, old-time feel to it. The old stores that lined the streets downtown spared no expense in decking themselves out for the holiday season, and you could have sworn that you had taken a step back in time as soon as Dean turned Baby onto the main street in the town where most everything was located. 

You could even see Dean out of the corner of your eye looking around excitedly as he drove down the street. Pedestrians were walking around with bags and in their warmest winter attire. You could hear the faint ding of the Salvation Army bells ringing from the corners. If you listened hard enough you could even hear the kids you just passed laughing as they launched snowballs at each other from around the old light post in the street. 

Dean smiled to himself as he watched you take in the sights around you. The smile that graced your face makes his world seem all the more brighter. In the dark world that he had been thrust into at such a young age, when you found the slightest little bit of light you tend to cling to it. His hand twitched on the steering wheel, and for just a moment he almost took your hand in his before he caught himself. He didn’t want to move too fast. 

You weren’t just some quick fuck to him, you weren’t just something to do. You had come to mean the world to Dean, and even though his feelings for you were a big driving force in all this he was doing for you, he wanted to make sure for the first time he did it the right way, and not in some rushed hurry in some truck stop bathroom or a motel quickie. He wanted you to fall for him the way he’d fallen for you if that was possible. Even if it was selfish to want you, he did, and there wasn’t any changing that. He was tired of trying to stay away from you.

Finally, Baby’s wheels came to a crunching stop in the middle of the street at a little shop, and before you could get out of the car Dean grabbed your shoulder, stopping you. 

“Stay here Sweetheart,” he tells you before jetting out of the car before you had time to argue. You watch with intense curiosity through Baby’s frost kissed windows as Dean made his way to the counter to talk to the elderly gentleman that was working there. 

The older man disappeared into a small room that you couldn’t see and returned with two boxes in his hands, passing them to Dean, as well as a bag, before Dean paid the man, and made his way back to Baby, throwing the bag in the back seat before passing your box to you, and shutting the car door against the bitter chill of the wind outside. 

“Open it,” he said excitedly.

You would have normally given him hell about how Hallmark this was, but those bright green eyes left no room for kidding, so you gingerly pulled the lid off of the box on to your lap. Finding a brand new pair of Ice Skates will be in their protective paper wrapping. 

You were smiling like an idiot, and you knew it, but the fact that he’d gone through his much planning and preparation made your heart feel like it was going to fly out of your chest and flutter around the room. 

“Dean, are we going ice skating?” you asked excitedly as he put Baby in drive, and began to slowly pull away from the curb. 

“Yep, I remember you saying you used to go with our dad when you were a little girl. Every year Donna said they open up an outdoor ice rink for everyone in town, and I just had to bring you.”

You could have cried on the spot, your eyes and heart were swimming with so many emotions as Dean smiled a little while he drove down the road towards your destination. You couldn’t believe he paid that much attention to you, much less remember everything you had told him about your life before hunting the way he was slowly revealing he did. 

When the car parked out in the parking lot, you leaned over in a moment of bravery and placed a kiss to his stubbled covered cheek, and threw your arms around his neck the best you could in the car with a box of skates in your lap. He never hesitated or pushed you away, he just wrapped his arm around you, hugging you back like his life depended on it.

“Thank you for this Dean, it means the world to me,” you tell him, and you could have sworn he placed a kiss on the top of your hate covered head, but it was so fast that you couldn't be sure. 

“Anything for you Y/N/N, you know that.”

It had been years since you had been on a pair of skates, and Dean said he’d only ever did it once or twice in his entire life, but you found your footing quickly. It really was almost like riding a bike. Dean was taking it a little slower, but cat-like reflexes he’d developed as a hunter had him moving pretty well after only falling on his butt three times. 

Dean was surprisingly more graceful than people ever gave him credit for. Years of fighting had taught him how to move in a way that made him limber and almost fluid. You could see it in the way he moved now next to you as the pair of you glided alone in a circle with the rest of the moving crowd. You laughed harder than you had in years when Dean collided with the ice the first time, and the second, and this third, each time growling out an adorable “son of a bitch”, but he was determined, and now you would think he’d been doing this for years.

You were so distracting watching him move next to you that when a group of teenagers sped past you it knocked you off of your balance, but before you could actually collide with the ice Dean’s strong arms wrapped around you, leaning against the makeshift wall they had placed as a barricade around the ring to balance the pair of you. His breath fogging out in front of him and mingling with your own as you repositioned yourself. 

His eyes scanned your face, as his gloved hand came up to brush the hair away from your face that had fallen when you lost your balance, his piercing green eyes boring into yours as your heart pounded away against your ribcage, which had nothing to do with the near-fall you almost took, and everything to do with the fact that this Adonis of a man still hand his arms securely around you even after you regained your footing. 

“You okay,” he asked, his breath coming out of his parted pink lips in white puffs. He was so close to you smell the gum he’d been chewing. Your entire body tingled with excitement, for just a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, but just before he would have followed through he straightened and laced his fingers with you. 

Blushing furiously you cleared your throat and smiled at him, nodding because there was no way in hell your throat was going to allow you to speak. It felt like it had literally caved in on itself the moment you realize just how close Dean was to you. 

Dean’s eyes searched you over like a protective mother hen, still worried, always worried. 

“Your cold Y/N/N, your shivering,” he stated, taking his top layer coat off of his body and draping it over your shoulders. “We’ve been out here for a few hours. What do you say we head back, take a hot shower, and make something hot and laced with alcohol.”

You blink a few times as the scent of his cologne laced in his jacket clouded your sense, and his hand rejoined your own. 

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

Dean helped you from the ice and out of your skates before getting his own and placing them in the back seat, turning up Baby’s heater to warm you. The drive to the cabin back through town was peaceful. You hadn’t noticed that you had been out most of the day, but the sun sinking pink behind the clouds added an enchanted feel to the little town as you went. Day 9 had by far been the best yet, and if today was the last day you’d cherish this time with Dean forever. 

Still, Dean wasn’t done, far from it. 

Once you got back to the cabin, he grabbed your arm, stopping you from going to the shower with the bag you had all but forgotten from earlier in his hand, holding it out for you to take. 

You took the bag suspiciously in hopes of getting that full-body laugh from him again that he did the other day, and it worked to your surprise. 

“What’s the suspicious look for sweetheart, it’s not gonna bite! Open it! You’re gonna need it before you take a shower!” 

You pulled the tissue paper from the top of the bag, and two pairs of Christmas pajamas, complete with socks, were waiting for you. One for you, and one for Dean. 

“Oh my God! You’re actually gonna wear Christmas pajamas?” you asked him in disbelief, pulling out your Elf pajamas as well as Dean’s which proudly declared “Merry Christmas you filthy animal,” across the front. 

“What can I say, they looked warm, and it’s a classic,” he said, taking his pair from you. “Now if any pictures of this rare occurrence surface once we’re back at the bunker just know I might have to kill you.”

You snort out a laugh, hugging him again, and enjoying the way he all but melted against you. His hand going to your hair to play with your hair as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Now, you know I make not promise Winchester,” you tease him when you finally force yourself to let go of him.

His eyes narrow at you playfully. 

“You better go take that shower Sweetheart, or else I’m gonna go first and use all the hot water,” he teases you, snatching up his pajamas and making his way into the kitchen to start on some hot chocolate for the two of you. 

You grin your way towards the small bathroom, mind swearing with events from earlier today. You would have never guessed this side of Dean existed. You definitely weren’t going to be ready to get back to reality once Christmas was over. Even as you sat tucked safely into his side with his arm around you later that night, several cups of adult hot chocolate in, and about three episodes of Dr. Sexy M.D. deep you still couldn’t believe just how lucky you were that he would care enough to do this for you. 

Dean, on the other hand, was just as surprised that you were willing to do this with him at all, and didn’t tell him to fuck off the moment he bought the present on night 12. He didn’t think it was even possible, but somehow, right here with you tucked safely against him for the first time he could see himself with a happy ending, and that was a gift enough for him this year. 

He was sure you were all he’d ever need.

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[kindahoping4forever]

Hot N Cold // Ashton Irwin

Both @cal-puddies and I had to endure disgusting heatwaves last week (it was literally 99 degrees before noon for me) and were laughing that we co-wrote a hot weather trope fic and it turns out, being this warm is not sexy. I took it a step further and declared that I was so uncomfortable I wouldn’t let Ashton near me and Cass was like bitch please and instantly proved me a liar by suggesting a scenario that I eventually spun into this entirely self-indulgent fic. (Exposing screenshots available upon request 😂🤡)

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash, slight soft!dom Ash, female receiving oral sex/rimming, ice play, unprotected sex within established relationship, gratuitous mentions of Ash with a beard and in basketball shorts because I am a 🤡, I truly cannot express how self-indulgent this is.

Word Count: 4.9k exactly! (And I can never thank Cass enough for being a problem solving, editing queen because otherwise this legit could’ve easily been 10k, I was out of control and have officially been dubbed “the Stephen King of smut”)

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————-

You tap on the thermostat display, hoping that the numbers you’re reading are a mistake.

“Babe, it’s digital, that’s not gonna do anything,” Ashton calls from across the room.

You make a face and continue staring in disbelief. Last week when you invited your boyfriend to stay with you while his home underwent plumbing repairs, you had no idea there would be a heatwave sweeping the city. And as if the heat wasn’t bad enough, a thunderstorm was also predicted so it’s not just hot but humid, which drives you absolutely crazy.

You usually find it cozy when Ash stays at yours, your modest apartment a quaint contrast to his luxurious house. But waking up next to him in your full size bed (a far cry from the king size at his place), with you both already drenched in sweat put you in a sour mood and as the day progresses, along with the temperature, your mood has only gotten worse.

“How could the outside temperature and the inside temperature be that similar, what the fuck,” you grumble.

“It only feels that bad because now you know how hot it actually is, babe,” he suggests, coming up and wrapping his arms around you, kissing your neck, lightly scraping at it with his beard.

You roll your eyes. “No, it feels that bad because it is that bad, babe,” you huff, shrugging his arms off of you. In quick succession, he smirks and then pouts at your brush-off. “Ash, I swear to god, why does it seem like the second it gets above a certain temperature, you get super affectionate just to spite me?”

He grins and reaches for you, pulling you into an embrace once more. “Aww, baby, it’s not out of spite,” he laughs. “I just think you’re cute when you’re irritated.”

Ash squeezes you tight, swaying softly as he kisses the top of your head. Normally you would find yourself melting into his touch but today you just feel like you’re literally melting. 

“You’re about to think I’m really fucking adorable then because I’m gonna flip out if you don’t get away from me,” you gripe, wriggling out of his grasp. 

You decide to take a cool shower but you’re not surprised to find that it’s so hot outside, the water doesn't get any cooler than lukewarm. You let your frustrated mind wander as it runs over your sweat-covered skin. Of course the heatwave would have to be this weekend. Of course it was unexpected so all your fans are still in storage and of course all the stores in the area are sold out of their stock. Of course you live in an apartment that only has a small air conditioner that’s basically useless. Of course Ashton is annoyingly unaffected by the heat and of course you know it’s unreasonable of you to direct your hostility toward him but… seriously, it’s so annoying. Despite your agitated thoughts and the tepid water, by shower’s end, you have to admit you feel relieved. 

Ash’s back is turned when you approach the kitchen. Now that both your body and your temper have had a chance to cool, you’re much more appreciative of his presence. You stand in the doorway, admiring his considerable build: how broad his back looks even as he hunches over, digging through a drawer, how the narrow cut of his tank top makes his shoulders look even larger than usual, how his favorite basketball shorts cling to his ass. By the time his arms start flexing as he stirs what looks like a pitcher of sweet tea, you’re padding over to him and wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Heyyy,” he chuckles, slinging an arm around you and bringing you to his side. “You seem to be feeling better.”

“Better, cooler and nicer,” you declare, pecking at his chest to prove your point. “Sorry I was being a mega bitch.”

He snorts. “No offense but when I saw the heat advisory on my phone last night, I kind of knew what I was gonna be up against.”

You pinch his arm, half offended. “No, my love, I could never think of you as a mega bitch,” you offer the reply you would’ve preferred, in a mocking voice. 

He shakes his head with a smile. “Would I have gone to this much trouble if I really thought that of you?” He gestures towards the living room where he’s spread your spare comforter on the floor in front of the AC; two cold cut sandwiches, a tub of leftover macaroni salad from yesterday’s dinner and a fresh bag of your favorite chips sit on the coffee table. 

You enjoy your “picnic” and continue lounging in front of the AC long after you’re finished eating. Ashton returns from clearing your dishes to discover you sprawled out on your stomach, complaining that you sat on the floor too long and your entire body feels numb. 

He cocks an eyebrow as he lays down next to you and lands a hard smack across your ass. You yelp but honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. You glare at him, unimpressed.

“Just trying to help,” he shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Mmm hmm, sure,” you giggle, turning to face him. “Quick question, why are you like this?” 

He pulls you closer. “Don’t act like it’s just me, I felt you ogling me in the kitchen,” he teases. “I know you’re turned on, look how hard your nipples are.” He grabs a handful of your breast and pinches to emphasize his point.

You snort laugh, “I’ve been sitting in front of an air conditioner, you dummy.” 

He makes a sheepish face and you both crack up. Your joint giggle fit easily transitions into a comfortable, lazy makeout session. You’re about to finally reach your hand inside his shorts when you both pull away after hearing a noise. It takes only a few seconds of humid air on your skin for you to realize that the AC has stopped. “The power’s gone out,” you announce, gently pushing his body off of you so that you can go flip the circuit breakers. “Maybe we had the air on for too long?”

A few minutes later, Ash joins you in the kitchen, where you’re fiddling with the breaker box. “Nothing,” you tell him, frowning at the panel.

“Seems like it’s the whole complex, all your neighbors are out wandering around,” he reports. “Maybe a rolling blackout from the heat? Or I guess it could be the storm? Looked like the signal at the end of the street was out.”

“Fantastic,” you seethe.

Ash reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to your clenched fist. “It’ll be fine, baby, this is just a good excuse for us to order dinner. And the sun will be going down soon, so it’ll have to cool off!"

You nod slowly, not believing him but appreciating the effort. "You just don't want me to be mean to you again," you tease.

You start looking for your lanterns and candles in case the power doesn't come back before nightfall. Which of course, it doesn’t. And despite Ashton's optimism, it doesn't cool off much either. You know the heat must actually be extreme when even he starts commenting on it.

He spots your cooler in the closet and offers to run down to the corner gas station and grab some ice to fill it with so you could at least have cold drinks. It doesn’t make much of a difference to you but you know he’s trying to do anything he can to make you more comfortable, so you tell him it’s a great idea. 

He returns quickly, triumphantly lifting up a comically large party bag of ice with one hand. "This was the only size they had," he explains. You smile softly and kiss his shoulder in silent thanks as you pass by on your way to gather the drinks.

The rest of the evening is uneventful. You attempt a candlelit dinner, but you both quickly agree it’s more impractical than romantic and replace the candles with your bright ass camping lantern. 

You make it an early night, not because you're tired but because you need the day to end. You thought fresh sheets sounded cooling but when Ash enters the bedroom, he finds you sitting defeatedly in the middle of the half-made bed and in the dim candlelight, he can’t tell if it’s sweat or frustrated tears he spies falling down your face. “OK, that’s enough,” he announces, reaching for your arm to drag you up from the bed. “You’re getting in the shower, I’m dealing with this.”

You’re pleased to find the water has cooled and the candles you have illuminating the bathroom makes for a much more relaxing environment than your previous shower. You haven’t been in long when you feel Ash’s beard scratching your back as he presses small kisses to your shoulders. You smile to yourself and face him, wrapping your arms around him. “You had to put up with a lot from me today,” you start. You peck along his neck and jaw, landing at his lips, which you kiss softly. “I just want you to know I appreciate it.” 

He holds you against him. “It was a long, shit day,” he shrugs. “I was just sorry to see you having such a bad time. Wanted to do what I could."

You lean in and you make out sweetly, enjoying the feel of each other's lips and the cool water. You feel him start to dip his hands in between your legs but you gently push them away. "I'm good, baby, just wanted to thank you." You peck his lips and leave him to finish showering.

You’re in the middle of putting lotion on when you feel Ashton’s hands on you again; he hasn’t even bothered with a towel, as if he couldn’t waste a second moving from the shower back to your body.

"Ashhhh,” you giggle. “I promise I’m fine… and where’s your towel? You’re dripping everywhere.”

His hand has found its way between your legs again and he swipes a finger through your folds. “Well, I’m not the only one,” he quips. "I knew you were getting riled up over there." He sucks and nibbles at your neck, causing you to groan. "Baby, you've been stressed all day. Let me get you off, it's the least I can do."

You sigh and nod, unable to deny the way you’re throbbing for his attention; he lifts you onto the bathroom counter and you find yourself almost involuntarily spreading your legs for him. “That’s my good girl,” he coos, kissing your inner thighs, running his beard along them the way he knows you like. He uses the tip of his tongue to flick at your clit, chuckling to himself as you instantly shudder and tangle your fingers in his wet hair.  

You pant heavily while he flattens his wide tongue and laps at your pussy. By the time his lips wrap around your clit, you’re bucking up onto his face, begging him for more.

You’re puzzled when he suddenly draws you down from the counter and pushes you over it, remaining on his knees. He spreads your legs again and swirls his tongue around your clit; he then licks all the way from your clit to your asshole, fluttering his tongue over it several times. A guttural whine rips through your throat.

“That a good noise, baby?” Ash asks, kneading your ass in his hands. “Want me to keep going?” 

All you can manage is a pitifully whimpered “Uh-huh” and he smirks to himself as he dives back in, spreading your cheeks with his thumbs and rolling his tongue over your tight ring. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on and it’s overwhelming, the added sensation of his beard making it even more stimulating. You nearly shriek when his hand starts working your clit.

“Please Ash... yeah… oh FUCK...” Nonsense spills from your lips as he licks you and you can’t help but roll your hips against his hand. His mouth pauses for a second and you’re about to complain when suddenly he’s pressing his tongue inside your hole. “Jesus Christ, Ash!” You cry out, white knuckling the edge of the counter.

He groans in response to your outburst and you can feel the vibrations of it as he pushes his tongue in further. You reach back and grab at his hair, desperate for something to hold onto, desperate to pull him even closer. His tongue darts in and out of your ass while his fingers rub tight, relentless circles around your clit. 

Your orgasm hits you without warning and for a second, you’re not sure if you’re going to live through it; your entire body shakes, your legs feel like jelly and your eyes are squeezed shut so tight you’re seeing stars. He reaches his free hand up to support you and continues to lick and rub you as it goes on, even as your fingers viciously yank at his hair.

You let yourself slump over the counter, enjoying the cool feeling of the marbling on your heated skin. You feel Ash’s lips softly kissing up your back and his hand stroking your hair. “You did so good, baby, thank you,” he praises, rubbing your back. “Thought you deserved a treat after the day you've had.”

“That was… wow?” You rasp, surprised at your voice’s scratchiness; you didn’t realize you were screaming but you must have been judging from how wrecked you sound. “ ‘M all sweaty though, gonna need to rinse off again,” you laugh.

“Oops,” his giggle echoes through the bathroom. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” He helps you stand upright and presses a kiss to your head. You note that he’s fairly hard but he leaves the room before either of you mention it.

You enter the bedroom a few minutes later and discover it empty; you’ve just pulled on a cotton slip nightgown when your shirtless boyfriend appears, carrying two bottles of water and two cups filled with ice. He sits yours on the nightstand and wanders over to where you’re towel drying your hair. You lovingly roll your eyes as he immediately wraps his arms around you; he’s changed back into his shorts and they’re doing nothing to disguise the erection you noticed in the bathroom. 

“Always love this nightgown on you,” he breathes, mouth biting at your earlobe, hands running up and down your sides. “Do you remember you wore it the first time you stayed over at mine?”

You smile at the memory. “And I thought you only liked it because it’s see-through in the light,” you tease, spinning out of his hold. You love him like this so you don’t want to outright reject him but you also can’t imagine having sex in this sweltering bedroom and aren’t about to take your fourth shower of the day.

You prop your pillows up so you can drink your ice water and check your phone while you still have some battery left. Ash sits next to you and you can already feel the heat radiating off of him. He absentmindedly places his hand on your thigh, squeezing every so often as it creeps higher. You slide your hand into his, bring it to your lips and kiss his knuckles briefly before setting it back on his own leg.

“I really should’ve let you buy me that bigger bed like you offered when you first started sleeping over,” you joke, hoping he’ll understand your meaning.

He chuckles and searches your face sympathetically, “Am I making you warm, baby? I’m sorry,” he pouts. “It’s getting better though, I opened the window before our shower and the storm’s bringing a breeze in.” He snakes an arm around you and leans you closer, pecking your cheek.

“It’s still pretty bad in here… and you’re still kind of a radiator, Ash,” you gently complain.

He frowns, then pauses and his face suddenly changes expression. “I know something we can do to take your mind off that…” 

You make a face. “Baby… I know you're hard but it has been such a ridiculous day," you gently explain. "I'll kiss you while you jerk off if you want? I just cannot fathom having you on me right now.”

“First of all, I never said I wanted to be on you,” he notes. “Second, I just feel bad you’re already so tense again, babe, we gotta get you to relax.” He massages your neck as he talks and you didn’t realize how stiff your muscles were until that moment. “I know it’s not gonna be an easy night sleeping in here and I was just thinking you always sleep so much better right after you cum...”

Despite the heat, your body is buzzing at his touch. “Goddammit, that’s a fair point,” you concede and he laughs under his breath. “Feel like whatever you have in mind is only gonna make me feel even warmer though.”

His eyes shine with playful desire. “Not necessarily…” he replies mysteriously. “Trust me?”

You hate how curious you are and how much his vagueness is turning you on. “You get five minutes to prove this is worth it… or until I start sweating, whichever is first.”

Ash chuckles, “I think we both know you’ll be begging for my cock long before then.”

You shake your head at him and then he's kissing you and laying you down. "Close your eyes," he requests. You look at him skeptically. "I'm assuming you think it's too warm for the blindfold," he points out and you nod in agreement.

He hovers over you and brushes his lips lightly against yours. "So gorgeous laying there, just waiting for me," he whispers low, knowing the praise will make you swoon. "Can you get your tits out for me, baby?"

You slip your thin straps off your shoulders and tug your nightgown down your torso, exposing your chest. Your breath is already heavy with anticipation when you feel Ashton's hands run up your thighs on his way to knead your breasts. His touch feels warmer than you'd like but his firm, calloused grip is always welcome.

His hands disappear for a second and you hear some generic rustling; you assume you'll be feeling his mouth next but what you don't expect is the intense cold of the ice cube he has in between his teeth. A squeal escapes your throat and your eyes shoot open at the sensation of him dragging the ice down your neck and in between your tits; the combined heat of your skin and his mouth starts melting it instantly and freezing water drips down your body. 

“Ash, what the fuck?!” You cry out with a shocked laugh. He tugs your nightgown lower and continues his travels, bringing the cube down over your stomach, water dissolving all over your midsection.

You whine as he pulls back and grins. “OH, did... did you want me to continue?” He taunts, chewing what was left in his mouth. “Didn’t take long for you to decide this was ‘worth it,’ huh, baby?”

He reaches for the cup on your nightstand and drops another cube in his mouth before lowering himself to your chest. His cold fingers play with one of your nipples while he sucks the other between his lips; his tongue swirls the ice around your pointed bud and the dueling feelings of the frozen cube and his warm tongue is unlike anything you’ve felt before.

You hold his head to your chest, running your fingers through his damp, curling hair. “Ash, babyyyyyy,” you breathe dreamily as he moves his attention to your other nipple. “This was a good idea, you were right.” Even with his mouth around you, he manages to grin at your concession and you arch your back into him.

“Love it when you talk dirty,” he smugly responds. He brings the remaining portion of his cube to the front of his lips and traces it over yours before slipping it back in his mouth and kissing you deeply. You whimper as he slowly transfers the cube into your mouth with his tongue. He tugs your lip between his teeth as he pulls away and you moan loudly at the realization that you can’t feel it because your lips are numb from the ice. 

Ashton sits back on his knees and you reach for him, immediately missing his attention. "Want you," you admit, stretching your arm until your hand lands on his bulging crotch. “Need you. Need this.”

He takes a page out of your book and pulls your hand up to his lips, kissing it and sitting it away from him. “Oh I know you need it, baby,” he teases, slipping his hand inside your panties to feel your wetness. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it... but first… can’t let my last ice cube go to waste.”

He smiles at your annoyed sigh as he snatches the cup from the table and moves down your body. You know that look in his eye and for once tonight, you know what he’s thinking. He starts to raise the cup to his lips as you whine, “Oh my god, Ash, don’t,” pushing him away with your feet.

He cocks his head and rubs his hands up and down your legs. “You know your word,” he replies and looks at you expectantly. You hold each other’s gaze for several beats and then his hands yank your panties off. Your nightgown is still bunched around your waist and you finally pull it all the way off, making yourself bare for him. 

Ash raises the cup in your direction in mock cheers and finally slides the ice into his mouth. In the time it takes you to blink he’s already between your legs, running the tip of the cube up and down your lips. You shift your hips to meet his touch and he lightly slaps your thigh to get you to settle. 

He moves through your folds, nudging at your entrance for just a second before moving on; you brace yourself as he reaches your clit. He teases around it first with only his tongue and your heart pounds as you wait for the cold to shock you. After what feels like half a lifetime, a burst of piercing iciness shoots through your entire body, starting at your core. You let out a long, low moan as he alternates flicking the frozen cube over your clit and then running his warm tongue against you in raging contrast. 

He sucks at your clit softly before moving to kiss up your inner thighs as he sits up. You didn’t see it happen but he apparently slipped the ice into his hand because now he’s pressing it directly on your clit, letting it melt, causing you to moan and writhe. 

"ASH PLEASE… oh my godddd…” you cry, grabbing his wrist. You’re not quite sure if you want him to stop or to keep going until you cum so you just hold onto his arm, begging. “Fuck me, please, need you to fuck me, Ash!”

Smiling, he firmly grinds the last of the cube against your clit and you thrash as it melts within seconds. He slips two fingers inside you and you shudder at how cold they are. “Knew I could get you begging for me, baby” he growls, smirking as he kisses up your body. “You sure it’s 'worth it'? Maybe you’re right, maybe it is too warm? This pussy feels pretty warm to me.” He skillfully juts his fingers in and out of you as he taunts you.

You whimper pathetically in response and he chuckles. “Alright, baby, you’ve been so good for me tonight, I’ll let you have my cock,” he declares. “Hands and knees for me, gorgeous.” 

Ashton pulls his shorts off while you do your best to get into position, unsteady from all the stimulation. You can’t help yourself and as soon as you get up on your knees you lunge for him, capturing his mouth in a filthy kiss and your hand tugs at his cock, easily coaxing out a trickle of precum.

He murmurs into your kiss, letting you have your moment and then in one swift move, he swats your hand away and pulls you off his lips by wrapping his hand around your throat. “I said hands and knees, baby,” he reminds you, squeezing lightly.

You can’t quite find your voice to moan but if you had, it would’ve been the loudest yet. You get into position and for the first time tonight, you notice the curtains billowing as the long-promised stormy breeze fills the room. You’re about to point it out but you decide to bite your lip instead because the head of Ash’s cock is pushing up against your entrance. 

You sigh restlessly and slowly push back on him, eager to have him inside you but he promptly halts your hips and roughly smacks your ass for trying. “Don’t be desperate,” he reprimands sternly. 

You mumble a pitiful “Sorry” and he rubs over the stinging redness of his handprint in acknowledgment. He slides his cock over your pussy a couple times, slicking it with your arousal, enjoying how your legs shake every time he juuuust misses running his tip over your clit. Then he starts pushing in for real, at an agonizingly slow rate; he knows you’re already on the verge of overstimulation and he knows you’re aching to cum but he loves teasing you, loves making you feel every inch of him as he enters you.

You hang your head, breathing his name so softly you almost don’t even hear it yourself. The thrill of finally having him inside you combined with the sublime stretch as his thickness gradually fills you is overwhelming; if you wanted to, you honestly think you might be able to cum from this alone. For a moment it crosses your mind to tell him this but in the next, you realize he already knows.

“Love watching you take me,” Ash praises you, finally bottoming out. “You’ve really gotta see it sometime, baby, there’s nothing like it.” 

You whine at his words and your sounds increase as he thrusts into you, wasting no time setting a punishing rhythm, you’ve both waited long enough for this. “Feels… so… good… babe…” you pant, voice quivering as his hips hit forcefully against yours. Your hands are cramping from how tightly you’re gripping the sheets in front of you but you don’t know how else to handle the intensity of what you’re feeling.

Ashton grunts, slapping your ass once on each cheek. He fucks into you rapidly and it's not long before his fingers dig into where he’s holding your hips; this means he’s getting close. You slide your hand to your clit and start rubbing, burying your face in the bed as you let out a choked sigh. He speeds up the pace when he notices. “I’m almost there too, baby,” he puffs. “Go ahead and cum, baby. Fuck, you deserve it.”

The soft howling of the wind, the vigorous slapping of Ash’s skin on yours and your muffled moans are all that can be heard for the next minute or so. Your sounds gain volume as your pussy begins to throb and you finally feel your walls tensing around him. He fucks you through it, murmuring about what a good girl you are, how beautiful you look. 

As your orgasm reaches its end, you hear Ash continuing to mumble but you realize it’s mostly nonsense; seconds later you feel his cock pulsing as he empties his load inside you. He groans loudly, running his thumbs over the fresh marks he’s left on your hips and slowly pumping into you a few more times before sighing and pulling out.

He pecks a kiss on the small of your back and then he grabs the tissues on your vanity to clean you up. You lay on your stomach, sleepy but satisfied; when he’s done, he lays beside you. “How are we feeling?” He asks, running his hand through your hair.

You smile dreamily at him. “Like I’m gonna sleep real good tonight,” you joke. You scoot closer to him and lightly kiss his bearded chin. “Like I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through today without you. Like I love you a lot.”

Ashton’s eyes shine fondly at you through the darkness. "I'm happy to hear that, there were a few times today I wasn't sure if you still liked me," he cracks. You poke him and he kisses your pouted lips. "I love you too, by the way."

You finish getting ready for bed and as you blow out the candles around the room, Ash instinctively moves closer to the edge of the bed; he's sure you'll want to sleep as far apart as possible. "Is it supposed to be this hot again tomorrow?" He asks.

"Yup," you answer, surprisingly unbothered, getting back in bed.

He frowns. "What do you think we should do?"

You surprise him again by curling into him, tangling your legs with his. "We've got all day and half a bag of ice left," you grin mischievously. "I think we'll be fine."

—-

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[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 73 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Courtney committed a fireable offense when she lost Miss Fame’s sketches.

This Chapter: Bianca rides in on a white horse, and Violet says yes to cake.

***

BIANCA: I need Courtney’s address

ADORE: Why

BIANCA: Because she seems upset and she’s not answering and I’m worried

ADORE: What did you do?

BIANCA: NOTHING

BIANCA: I don’t think

BIANCA: Something probably happened at work

BIANCA: ADORE. SEND THE ADDRESS FOR FUCK’S SAKE

BIANCA: I WILL CUT YOU OFF BITCH

BIANCA: Adore, please.

ADORE: Fine! But if she’s mad, that’s on you

BIANCA: ACCEPTED

ADORE: Just to warn you, it’s a real shithole

BIANCA: Alright, alright, just please send the address

*

Even though Bianca felt like a little bit of a stalker just showing up at her place like this, she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. Courtney had cancelled with those few cryptic messages and then gone radio silent. Bianca knew her well enough by now to be certain that something had gone wrong, since just hours earlier, she was sending sweet messages about how much she couldn’t wait for them to be together.

She tried calling her a few more times from the car, but there was no answer. Finally, standing in front of the crumbling brownstone, she had to come clean.

BIANCA: Look, I’m sorry for taking drastic measures, but I was really worried…

BIANCA: I’m outside your building

Seconds later, her phone rang. She answered, heart filling with relief. “Hi baby-”

“What are you doing here?”

Her voice sounded broken and raw, and it was immediately clear that she’d been crying. Bianca could feel her heart in her throat, head suddenly racing with all the possibilities of things she may actually have done wrong. Had she really fucked this up so quickly?

“I was worried about you, so I thought…” Bianca bit her lip, afraid to even ask if she was the one who had upset Courtney like this. “Are you gonna let me inside?”

There was a pause, a few beats, the sound of sniffling.

“I just...I kind of don’t want you to...see it.” She sounded choked up again, voice small and soft.

“Angel…” Bianca couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief. It didn’t sound like she was angry, at least not with Bianca--just ashamed of where she lived, which Bianca could understand. “Do you think I’ve always lived in a penthouse?”

“No,” Courtney admitted after a pause.

“No,” Bianca repeated. “Not by a longshot. Please let me in, I need to see you. I just want to talk.”

A few minutes later, Courtney appeared, opening the door from the basement level. Bianca raced down the narrow steps and swept her into a hug, trying not to fret too much about the way she hung limply in her arms.

She followed her inside, and while she’d been prepared for something small and substandard, based on everything she’d heard so far, this was far worse than her fears. A tiny basement unit, dank and dark with exposed pipes and what looked like the world’s oldest sofa bed. It was also clearly an illegal sublet with no kitchen--only a metal, industrial sink with an electric kettle and micro-fridge below.

Besides the bed, there was little furniture. Her closet appeared to be two wardrobe boxes, and a few other boxes were stacked next to the bed to create a makeshift side table. Bianca took it all in, wondering exactly how she ended up in such a dismal place.

But now was not the time to ask about that, not when Courtney looked so utterly miserable. Even in the dim lighting, Bianca could see that her eyes were red and swollen. She followed her to the sofa bed, sitting down gingerly beside her (and holy shit was that thing uncomfortable) and taking one of her hands into her lap.

“Tell me why you’re so upset, angel, please.”

Courtney took a shaky breath, fresh tears filling her eyes. “I did something...really terrible today.”

“Did you kill someone? Do you need me to get a shovel?” Bianca asked, and she was rewarded with a hint of a smile as Courtney shook her head.

“No, but…” Every trace of smile disappeared from her face as she said, “I bet Miss Fame is gonna think this is worse.”

“What happened?”

“I accidentally left an envelope with a bunch of her sketches in a cab.” A tear rolled down her reddened cheek.

Bianca’s eyes went wide, understanding why Courtney was so distraught. Fame rarely sketched anymore, but when she did, she was as attached to the original work as if it was a piece of her own body. She immediately went into problem-solving mode, trying to think of things to mitigate the damage.

“Have you tried calling the cab company-”

“I don’t know which cab company it was, I didn’t get a receipt and I can’t remember no matter how hard I try,” Courtney cried. “But I did call, I must have called a hundred different companies, but...I think they might be gone.”

“Okay-”

“It’s not okay! Her sketches, her original sketches! How could I have done that, I’m so dumb, I’m so bad at that stupid job!” More tears poured down her cheeks, sobs heaving her chest.

“Hey, come here…” Bianca pulled her in, hushing her softly, a hand rubbing circles into her back. “I know, I get what a big deal it is, but it sounds like you did everything you could. And I promise you, it’ll be okay-”

“How?! How will it be okay?! I’m gonna get fired!” Courtney exclaimed, and Bianca had to bite her tongue, the word ‘so?’ nearly slipping from her lips.

“Okay, well...let’s say you do get fired,” Bianca said slowly. “I don’t think you will, but if you do...would that be so bad? It’s clearly not your dream job.”

“But I need it. I can’t get my new work visa without it. It’s been months and I still don’t have the answer and-”

“You don’t have a work visa?”

“Not after March. I have an attorney who’s working on it, but he keeps running into problems and he’s already charged me so much and I don’t know-”

“Hold up. Galactica hired you, but they’re not handling your immigration issues?” Bianca asked.

“Well...Violet told me not to tell Miss Fame, so I...I was afraid to bring it up with HR. But I got the number of an immigration lawyer from Miss Fame’s contacts, and...it’s all just so expensive. He keeps asking for more money, and I can’t-”

“Wait a second.”

Bianca was no immigration expert, but she knew two things: 1, getting a work visa for an entry level administrative job was nearly impossible and 2, it was actually impossible without the full support of a sponsor company.

“Whoever that lawyer is, they’re a total fraud. Don’t give them any more money, okay?”

“Oh god.” Courtney moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. “Why can’t I do anything right?!”

“This isn’t your fault,” Bianca assured her. “You trusted a professional and they took advantage of you. They could be disbarred for that. And as for the sketches...stop beating yourself up. Yes, she’s going to be angry, and upset, but things happen. People make mistakes. I’ve made plenty, believe me.”

“Like this?” Courtney asked, eyes skeptical.

“I once dropped my boss’s wife’s passport off a subway platform.”

“Did you get fired?” Courtney asked.

“No. But I did get yelled at for a solid hour. Maybe two. It wasn’t a good day. But...I got through it. And you’ll get through this.”

“Maybe. But I just know I’m gonna fuck up again. Everything is...I don’t think it should still be this hard, not after 4 months. Miss Fame even said that, earlier today. I’m not new anymore, I should know better. I should be better. What’s wrong with me?!”

At first, Bianca said nothing, simply wrapping her in an embrace. She knew that Courtney was finding the job stressful--anyone in their right mind would find that job stressful. But the fact that it was this bad...Bianca felt guilty for not noticing sooner. She rocked Courtney slowly, letting her fall apart in her arms, whispering comfort into her ear.

After a while, when she sensed that Courtney was cried out, sobs slowing down and some of the tension finally melting away, Bianca pulled back and took her by the shoulders. She paused, considering for a minute if she really wanted to get involved before saying, “Maybe this isn’t the right job for you.”

“Well, I don't have another offer, so...oh, god, what am I gonna do? Is the visa thing really bad? Am I gonna get deported?”

“No,” Bianca said with a smile, shaking her head decisively. “I’ll take care of your visa. Don’t worry about it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet, but there are options. I promise, okay?” Bianca kissed her cheek softly, up near her ear, lips lingering on her tear-stained skin. “I’ve gotten pretty attached to you, so you leaving the country would be a huge bummer.”

Courtney finally seemed to relax, letting out a small chuckle, resting her head on Bianca’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave you either. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, angel.” Bianca squeezed her hand tighter, lacing their fingers together. “Does that mean you want to come home with me?”

Courtney nodded slowly, squeezing Bianca’s hand back. “Yes please.”

“Good.” Bianca tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “And, um...okay so, remember when you said that Christmas music makes you want to go to the beach?”

“Yeah…” Courtney tilted her head, puzzled.

“Well I may have booked us a little...getaway. Just for a few days. So you can have some sun and relax and get away from this dreary weather.”

“Where?” Courtney asked, eyes wide.

“Puerto Rico. It’s not that long of a flight, so-”

“But I thought you had to stay and work!”

“I can work from there.” Bianca flashed her a charming smile, adding, “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you did. I’m…” Courtney took a deep breath, clearly overwhelmed, and then glanced over to where a beaten-up duffel bag lay on the floor. “I guess I need to pack some other clothes, although I’m not sure I have the right stuff here...”

“There are stores in San Juan.”

Courtney laughed, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. “I’m never gonna get used to the way you live.”

“You will. And that’s a promise,” Bianca said. “So will you come with me? Our flight leaves tomorrow at 2.”

“Yeah, of course! I just need like 20 minutes or so to pack.” Courtney’s mood already seemed to brighten as she began pulling boxes out of a stack against the brick wall.

“Of course, take your time. Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Oh. Uh...yeah, sure. It’s uh...out that door and down the hall, on the right. I share with Fred, but I think he’s at work right now, so-”

“Who’s Fred?”

“Um-”

“You know what, I can hold it,” Bianca assured her, crossing her legs.

“I’ll be fast, I promise,” Courtney said, pulling a pair of sandals out of the box and tossing them to the floor. “And B...thank you.”

“For what, sunshine?”

“Everything.”

***

“I’ll get to the dishes in a minute, mom!” Gigi closed the door behind her, looking around her bedroom in an attempt to remember where she had put her earpods. She crouched down, digging through her backpack. Symone had made her a playlist of music she had to listen to over the holidays, and if she was gonna be put on Cinderella duty, she might as well make it productive.

It felt strange to be home; the smells, sights and sounds were all exactly the same, while she couldn’t help but feel different, like she had grown up in the weeks she was away.

Some of her friends had reached out when they had seen on Instagram that she had returned to L.A, but she hadn’t responded yet. She was an adult now, with a real job, not a college kid that could mess around and do all the things she used to, hanging out in the skate park suddenly so lame and childish compared to all the things she was doing in New York.

She had spent the day in her mom’s studio, watching her work like she had done so many times before, her mom excitedly asking about what clothes she should make her, and showing her all of the sketches she had done while Gigi was away based on the pictures she had sent.

Gigi couldn’t wait to wear her mom's creations, the outfits more chic than anything she had seen in the multiple designer stores she had now been in. Sutan’s words that her style was her edge ones she had really taken to heart.

“There!” Gigi exclaimed triumphantly, pulling her earpods out of her backpack. She grabbed her phone, and was just about to get to the kitchen to do the dishes, when she saw that she had gotten a message from Symone, a massive grin spreading on her face as she slid back down to the floor, leaning against her bed to respond, her chores completely forgotten.

***

JINKX: Hey honey. Just want to make sure you made it home from the airport okay.

JINKX: I read it was snowing a ton.

JINKX: Plus you know, I haven’t heard from you in almost 4 hours so I miss you like crazy.

JINKX: ;-P

ALASKA: Haha, I’m fine. At a bar right now catching up with the bro.

JINKX: Tell him hi for me

JINKX: xoxo

ALASKA: <3

***

It was Christmas Eve Day, barely past dawn, but Courtney was already awake. She’d slipped from the bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake Bianca, padding over to the big picture window to watch the golden sunlight reflecting off the buildings, admire the light dusting of snow on the trees in the park. She wasn’t used to thinking of New York as pretty, but from up here, it really was.

“Hey...good morning…” Bianca said, her voice rough with sleep, just the way Courtney loved most.

“Good morning.” She turned around, giving her a slightly apologetic smile. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nahh...I guess my body just doesn’t want to sleep without you.”

“I love it when you’re cheesy,” Courtney giggled.

“Oh yeah? Plenty more where that came from. What are you doing all the way over there?”

“Just...checking out the view. It’s pretty amazing.” Courtney turned and headed back to the bed, suddenly missing Bianca’s warmth beside her.

“The view over here isn’t half bad either,” Bianca told her with a wink.

Courtney giggled some more, crawling toward her across the mattress. “Happy Christmas Eve…”

Their lips met in a sweet and tender kiss, Bianca’s hands cradling her face.

“Speaking of which...how do you feel about opening one of your presents now?”

“Really? Already?” Courtney asked, eyes lighting up.

“Well, it’s kind of useful, so I think it makes sense.” Bianca got up out of the bed, pulling a huge box wrapped in silver from her closet.

Courtney sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing slightly as she ripped open the paper to reveal a gorgeous pink Fendi suitcase, covered in what had to be custom crystals. Her mouth fell open.

“I figured you could use it for our trip. You know. I’m all about practical gifts.”

Courtney couldn’t help laughing. The suitcase was anything but practical...but it was perfect, like it was designed from Courtney’s wildest daydreams.

“I don’t know if I have enough to fill this,” Courtney said, running her fingers over it, watching the way the stones glittered in the light.

“Well...that’s cool, I could use the extra space myself.”

Courtney raised her eyebrows. She’d seen Bianca’s packed suitcases, two giant Louis Vuittons and a large, matching carry-on, nearly ready to go.

“You need more space? We’re going for a week...what are you even taking?!”

“More presents,” Bianca said, dimples deepening.

“Oh my god…”

***

Violet chewed on her lip; sorting through Google images really not where she excelled. She was looking for pictures of Raja at the Met Ball, slowly combing through what she could find since her emails to Max and Pearl had gone unanswered. It was annoying, but expected. Pearl never missed out on the chance of ignoring her emails, and Max was british so he completely ignored both phone and computer the minute he left the office, so she was on her own.

“Violet?”

Violet looked up from her station at the living room table to see Sutan head peek in through the kitchen door, his phone against his shoulder, the glasses in his hair betraying that he had been working  as well even though it was Christmas Eve. “My mom’s asking if you like klappertaart?”

“... Excuse me what?” Klappertaart? Violet had no idea what that was. It wasn’t unusual for either Raja or Sutan to get a bit confused when they bounced between Indonesian and English, their sentences sometimes mixed up, but that didn’t sound Indonesian at all. “Is that German?”

“Dutch, actually,” Sutan smiled. “Remind me to educate you on the thrilling saga of Indonesia's colonial history some day.”

“Ah,” Violet felt a brief stab of shame, that information seeming like something she should have known, though she had barely even been aware that Indonesia existed before she had met her boyfriend.

“So?” Sutan walked fully into the room, leaning against the doorframe, his black pants tight in the waist, and Violet couldn’t help but admire him for a second. “Klappertaart?”

“I still don’t know what it is.”

“Oh fuck, right” Sutan’s eyes widened, and Violet laughed as she heard a noise from the phone, Murni clearly picking up on her son’s swearing, Sutan quickly putting the phone against his ear.

“Ya Bunda, ya ya, maaf,” Sutan grinned, walking over to the table before putting the phone down so he could continue talking.

“Klappertaart is… It’s a cake, that’s…” Sutan paused, clearly looking for his words. “There’s coconut and… Know what, excuse me.” Sutan held the phone up again, Indonesian falling from his lips as he talked to his mom and Violet had to hide a smile, Sutan clearly never considering what was in this mysterious klappertaart.

“There,” Sutan pulled away, “It’s a coconut cake with almonds and raisins, and we usually have it for Christmas.”

“Huh,” Violet ran over the ingredients in her head. It was incredibly nice of Sutan’s mom to ask if she liked the menu, and there weren’t any of the ingredients that she hated, though warm raisins were disgusting, but she was pretty sure she could get away with picking them off, so there was no reason to create a scene. “That sounds lovely.”

“Great,” Sutan smiled, bending down to give her a quick kiss before he returned to his phone call.

[docholligay]

"Two Truths and a Lie" Haruka & Minako 

-

-

-

“Hey bud.” Keeping herself upright with the door frame, Minako greeted Haruka with a smile. “Come in! Come in! Did you bring some vodka?” Haruka stepped in, trying to ignore the strong reek of alcohol coming from Minako. In her hands was a brown paper bag from the liquor store. And even though Haruka wasn’t the most observant, she could still tell Minako’s focus has solely been the bag since Haruka walked in the door. 

“Got Fireball instead. It was cheaper.”

Minako smiled and clapped Haruka’s shoulder. “Always so cheap. Or, um, how’d your girlfriend say it?” She was giggling to herself as she shut the door and walked back towards the sofa. Bottles of liquor were fucking everywhere. Some were empty, some half full. Once Minako was on the couch, she finished her thought. She brought her tone up to a mocking imitation of Michiru’s preppy tone. “My dear Haruka, always so economical.” Minako burst out laughing while gesturing Haruka over towards the couch. Haruka obediently listened, walking over to the sofa and sitting next to Minako. 

“Why are you always making fun of Michiru?” Haruka asked a bit grumpily, pulling the bottle of Fireball out from the bag. “I never made fun of Rei.”

At the mention of Rei, Minako snatched the bottle from Haruka’s hand. “Why are you being such a whiny bitch about it? It’s just some light teasing.” Minako screwed the cap off the Fireball and took a nice long glup.

“You literally called her a cunt on the phone an hour ago.”

Minako paused in her sip, bringing the bottle down. “So? I was just having fun.”

“She’s important to me, you know.” Haruka stole the bottle back and took a sip. “I wish you’d stop being such a bitch to her.”

“And I wish I was a millionaire, but we all can’t be Miss Michiru Kaioh now, can we?” A thick silence filled the room. Haruka’s grip tightened on the bottle before she set it down entirely. 

“Minako, we need to talk-.”

“Oh, Ruka, I’ve got an idea.” Minako cut Haruka off with the wave of a hand. “What if we played two truths and a lie, huh?” The look of absurdity Haruka gave Minako didn’t even affect her. “Come on! It’ll be fun! And it’ll be like we’re in middle school again.”

Haruka sighed and leaned back. “Sure, whatever, let’s play.” It’s not like Mina would let her refuse anyways.

“Great! I’ll go first.” Minako grabbed the bottle of Fireball and took a few leisurely sips while sipping. “Let’s see….”  As Minako thought, her smile became more and more malicious. “The sky is blue. Rei’s a fucking bitch. And Michiru actually loves you.” Haruka glared at Minako for a moment, but it was ineffective. Minako just grinned back, daring Haruka to answer. “Come on pal, what’s the lie?”

“It’s that Rei’s a bitch.”

“Wrong!” Minako shouted. She took a long glup of the Fireball. “Rei’s the biggest fucking bitch I know. I still can’t believe she broke up with me! With me! Of all people! I’m a fucking catch!”

“I mean...you know, sometimes people just have different goals in life.”

Minako scoffed. “Ruka, stop repeating shit you heard from Michiru. She fucking wrong anyways. Rei’s goals were shit. She had shitty ass eyes too. If she couldn’t see what she was missing out on when she broke up with my fine ass.” Pausing in her rant to take another glup of the Fireball, Minako regained her composure. “So, bud, if that’s not the lie, what is?”

Haruka glared at her. “Nothing else you said was a lie.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, bud.” Her words were starting to slur at this point. “Michiru doesn’t actually love you, bro. She fucking couldn’t! Have you seen her? That bitch is all stone cold and icy - a fucking snake. I don’t think she’s said a single true thing in her entire fucking life.”

“That rich coming from your ass. You lie all the time!”

“Yeah, but like, that’s different.” Minako snapped back. “I’m like you, Haruka. We both had to fight to get where we are. I lie outta necessity. But her? She just lies for the fucking fun of it. I bet you she leaves your ass in a few months. All she wanted to do was fuck the hot car mechanic working on daddy’s limo for a while before moving onto the next hot butch that catches her eye.” Minako noticed the tightening of Haruka’s toath, the wetness in her eye, and the thinning of her lips. “Look, Ruka, I’m not saying this to be mean. I’m just saying it ‘cause I want ya to be ready. It’s gonna happen. It’s only a matter of time.” 

When after a few moments Haruka didn’t respond, Minako just rolled her eyes and took a few more chugs of the Fireball. On her side of the sofa, Haruka composed herself. She did not want this to devolve into a screaming match - with Minako intentionally trying to get Haruka as mad as possible. 

“Can we just move on?” Haruka asked. “I came here for a reason. I need to talk-.”

Minako cut her off. “Talk-smalk. We can do that after you do two truths and a lie.” 

Haruka let out a sigh. “Fine, whatever.” She paused to think, her burrows furrowing together. “Um, the sky is green. Rei is dating somebody else. Last weekend I pro-.”

“Hold it!” Minako interjected, smacking Haruka’s knee to get her to stop. “The Rei’s one has to be a lie. There’s no fucking way she’s moved on already. It’s been a month!”

“It’s not a lie.” The scathing glare Minako sent her way made Haruka pause for a moment. “Michiru and I ran into her and this other girl a few days ago. They met in Rei’s self-defense class. She seems nice - the girl - she does judo and stuff. Likes to bake too. Um, yeah. Rei seems really pleased.”

“I’m sure she fucking is.” Minako spat. “I’m sure this new girl is ‘responsible’ and ‘an actual adult’ and whatever fucking bullshit else Rei claimed I wasn’t.” In one last furious glup, Minako finished off the Fireball. “Whatever. Let’s move on. What was the last thing? Last week you what?”

“The sky is green. Rei is dating somebody else. And I… Last weekend I proposed to Michiru.” 

A look of sober awareness dawned on Minako’s face. She looked at Haruka slowly, examining her friend up and down. Bringing both hands up to her face, Minako pinched her cheeks, flinching when it hurt. 

“I...Ruka, you proposed to Michiru?” 

“Yeah.”

“Without telling me?” Genuine hurt was laced through Minako’s voice. Haruka was pretty sure she’d never seen Minako this open before. “I could’ve helped you pick out a ring. Or helped you plan out the proposal. Or talked you out of marrying such a rich asshole!” The hurt from Minako’s tone was gone and replaced with anger. 

“This is why I didn’t tell you! ‘Cause you’d try to talk me out of it!”

“Of course I would! Marrying Michiru is gonna be the biggest mistake of your life.” Minako’s standing now. Wobbling on her feet, Minako struggles to stay upright as she yells at Haruka. “In a few years you’ll be telling me ‘I told you so’. That bitch has nothing good to offer you - except her tits and her money.”  Haruka looks ready to yell right back, but she stops herself. She takes a slow, deep breath in.

“Minako. This behavior of yours is why I wanted to talk. Our friendship is-.”

Minako snorted. “Listen to you! You sound just like that bitch. Are you just repeating what she told you to say? That bitch never liked me. Not from day one. She’s been messing with you Ruka. Makin’ you forget who’s helped you and been a friend for you all these years.”

“No!” Haruka snapped back. All attempts at diplomacy were gone as Haruka stood to her full height. She loomed over Minako, who just craned her head back to glare at Haruka. “She’s shown me that I don’t have to keep letting you drag me down into your pit of hell. She made me realize I’ve been fucking miserable around you! Everytime I tried to get serious with a girl you’d chase her away or convince me to leave her! Why’s that? ‘Cause you’re afraid I’d become happier than you? More successful than you?”

“What the fuck kinda lies has she been feeding you?” Minako scoffed. “You’re my friend! I want you to be happy. I’ve kept you from boring women who wanted to tie you down and shit.”

“I want a wife and kids! That’s all I’ve ever wanted. ” Haruka gestured around the room to the copious amounts of liquor. “Not all of us want to spend their lives living like some washed up actor. Getting drunk and high every damn day.” 

Minako groaned and sat on the coach. “You sound like fucking Rei.”

“Good. She was right about you.” Frozen on the sofa, Minako listened to Haruka rant. “You’re a fucking child. All you want to do is fuck around. You lie and cheat your way to cash that you blow on stupid shit. You’re a selfish bitch who can only think about herself. And this - this past month of lying around feeling sorry for yourself - is because you know she’s right, isn’t it? She hit the nail on the head and you hate her for it - ‘cause now you can’t hide from how shitty you are.”

“Get out of my fucking house.” 

Haruka paused, looking at the door before looking back to Minako. “I’m not coming to see you again. Unless you pull your shit together.”

“Like I care. Just get out.” Minako grabbed another bottle off the floor, twisting the cap off aggressively. When Haruka continued to stare, Minako threw the cap at her. “If you’re not out in the next five seconds I’ll throw the damn bottle at you.” Haruka walked out, slamming the door behind her, leaving Minako to drink alone on her sofa.

Ooooohhhhhh man, this is a place I've never personally gone, but love? The idea of Minako trying to drag Haruka down with her, because if SHE'S miserable, and so everyone else should be, walling herself off and lashing out at people untiol she ruins EVERYthing, amazing, chef's kiss.

[johnkrrasinski]

Coffee with Cream

Chapter 1: Our Story Begins in a Diner

full masterlist

series masterlist

Pairings: Frank Castle x reader x Mad Sweeney 

Word count: 2,693

Warnings: sexism, mentions of alcohol, men being men.

Summary: Two men, one diner and little old you. Working at a diner had never been your dream job but, fate had a funny way of bringing two contrasted men into your life. 

a/n: hey guys! as you all know my obsession over frank castle and pablo schreiber had been exploding these past couple of months. and so, me and @nellblazer decided to write a good old threesome fic involving these two bulky men. hope you like it. enjoy! 

Morning shift:

Another day, another chaos. The buzz of the diner was in full swing as you raced to another table filled with new patrons after the previous ones just got up and left, leaving a generous tip for you as you wiped the surface clean and picked up the dirty dishes.

It was a daily occurrence for you to deal with the bustle. Mornings are always the most hectic. You had to pace back and forth from one table to another, wrote down their orders and carefully carried their meals and beverages to the starved consumers.

Another ring above the door echoed in the clamorous room. You had grown so acclimatized to the sound, that you barely noticed it even chimed. It was basically the soundtrack of the early hours at the diner. So it didn’t interrupt your brief conversation with one of the patrons who had just ordered a black coffee with pancakes as you penned them down on your notepad.

It was around 10 AM, entering brunch hours when he walked in.

You turned around to give the order to the cook but was shortly hindered by a dark-haired man with perfectly neat stubble the lower part of his face. You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings due to the rush, so your body crashed with a taller dark figure that was walking in your direction.

“Oh, sorry, sir.” You were stunned. You couldn’t help but quickly notice the mysterious appeal of this man as his deep brown eyes looked into yours. For a second, it felt like the noise in the room suddenly faded into the background. You weren’t one in believing “love at first sight” but you definitely knew an attractive man when you saw one. And you were allured.

He quickly caught you by the shoulders and you loved the temporary moment that you had with him. His touch didn’t last long but you sure as hell wished it had.

“My mistake.” He shrugged it away like it was nothing. Then he walked away to the last booth in the corner and sat near the window. For a second there, you almost forgot what you were currently in the middle of, until you heard your name being called by one of the cooks.

“I’m coming.” You glanced at the lonesome man whom your fellow waitress co-worker was taking orders from once more before you quickly took another cooked order from the counter. You heard the indistinct murmur of the words ‘pancake’ and ‘a cup of espresso coffee’ being spoken by the man. Funny how despite his protruded emanation, he still made a common order.

But with him only a few feet away from where you were standing, things were just getting interesting.

-

An hour passed by and you were still pacing back and forth from pantry to one table to another. Until the commotion began to dwindle down, and you could just sit back behind the counter and wait for the remaining ones to get up and leave.

The blonde-haired man who had been indecorously eyeing you up and down after you first interacted with him to take his order earlier got up from table two and you were a tad relieved that he was finally about to leave. You just had to deal with him one more time and hopefully, you would never have to see his obnoxiously hideous face ever again.

Maybe you should consider spitting on a patron’s food next time, so they would have no interest in returning due to the bad service or unpleasant food ever again. Well, you’ll keep that in mind.

For now, you were trying to make yourself look as collected as possible despite attempting to hide your disgust on his predatory eyes. He neared toward where you were sitting, which was behind the cashier machine and you tried not to vomit right there.

“How much is it, hot stuff?” You couldn't mask your repugnance at his catcalling. But you neglected it, maintaining your professionalism.

“That’ll be $4.50, and don’t call me hot stuff.”

“Then give me your name, sweet cheeks.” He winked and crudely smirked at you as if he had just aced the last word. The truth was… It only made the idea of spilling a drink on his pants even more intriguing.

“Are you going to pay for your meal or not?” Then he scrambled through his pocket to unfold his wallet then he pulled out a few bucks and placed it on the counter in front of you. You took it without giving him a convivial look and a thank you, and immediately placed the money in the cashier machine.

“No smile for me? I give you some pretty generous tips there.”

“Go fuck yourself. Your tips’ pretty average anyway.” Then you turned your body against him but he abruptly stopped by harshly grabbing your wrist. You tried to release it out of his vicious grip, but this obnoxious man was much stronger than your liking.

“Let go of me!”

“You fucking rude bitch couldn’t even give me a smile, huh? I could get your ass fired out of here, you know that?”

“I said let go!”

What you didn’t notice was the inscrutable man who was sitting in the corner booth, had gotten up and approached the scene. He stood right next to the man that was harassing you, and he immediately put his hand on his shoulder. “Hey, pal, let the lady go, alright? She’s not interested.”

“Who the fuck are you? Mind your own fuckin’ business, pal.” Then he released your wrist and immediately pushed the enigmatic man by the shoulders and it elicited a fire out of him. He didn’t look the slightest bit frenzied but he looked rather enlivened by the son of a bitch’s ineptitude and he was primed for whatever was going to go down. He then pushed the schmuck back, catching him off guard.

“You’re gonna regret that.” He sneered through his wounded ego. The mysterious man only kept his cold-hard stare at him and stood unwaveringly. The obnoxious man then threw a punch at him but he effortlessly dodged it like he saw it coming, then he miserably tried to throw a punch at him once more, but was caught and stopped effortlessly with only a single clench of his hand, then the mysterious man incased his fist and twisted it to the point where the schmuck gave away his pain through his face.

“Who regrets it, now?” The mysterious man gritted as his nostrils flared. The obnoxious man was shorter than him but somehow, he seemed into shrank down before this man.

“Not so tough now huh? You gonna say something? Hmm?”

“No, please, please! I’ll fucking leave, just let me go!” He begged through his visible terror.

He let him go with a slight push and the obnoxious man instantly fled and ran for his life. He exited through the door and didn’t look back.

After the mysterious man made sure that the little coward was out of sight, he shifted his gaze to your direction and his energy immediately improved. It turned into a warmer, more civil look. In fact… He seemed a little nervous. He was so certain of himself when he tamed down that bastard, but now he looked like a shy man who was nervous to talk to a pretty lady.

“You uh… You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Thank you.” You threw him a tiddly smile to truly show your gratitude. But you were also a tad amused by the rapid transformation in him.

“No problem. So uh… Do you deal with those kinda assholes often?”

“On some unfortunate days, yeah. There are two types of assholes though. One who miserly tips and the other who’s like the one you just terrorized to death.”

“Yeah, it can get pretty unpredictable working here, huh?”

“You got that right.” You sighed as you placed your hand on the counter to lean on it.

“So, do I get to know the name of my knight in shining armour?”

He shook his head and chuckled and if your vision wasn’t playing tricks on you, you think he was even slightly blushing.

“The name’s Frank. Frank Castle.”

“Well, Frank, Frank Castle… My name’s y/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You shook hands whilst still maintaining unfaltering eye contact with the man. You chatted for a while before he paid for his meal and said his goodbye. You couldn’t remember seeing a smile on his dashing face before that. But you were glad that you did before he was out of sight.

“I’ll see you around.” Those four words loomed in your head throughout the entire day, making you smile like a starstruck idiot. You took the bus to ride back home and you put on your favourite happy song. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this giddy. You didn’t have a clue as to when you were going to see this man again but, you sure as hell were going to meet him in your daydream.

Evening shift:

After being kicked out of every local bar, Sweeney's drinking options were becoming thin.

Sure he could just buy whiskey from the grocery store and drink it from the bottle but that was verging on being the drunk under the bridge territory and he'd had enough of that for one lifetime. He certainly didn't miss the thumping hangovers or the aches of sleeping on the cold ground. He definitely didn't miss the gobshite kids who kicked him whilst he was asleep for fun or who stole the last of his alcohol.

For having a lucky coin, he sure did run into a lot of problems and they'd all started when he'd left Illinios in disgrace. Brooklyn hadn't been much more welcoming but at least he could make fun of the “Irish” bars that seemed to dot about the place....maybe he shouldn't have made as much fun as he did because he was thirsty and it was a need only booze would fill.

He stumbled upon a diner, unassuming and hidden and with that faded flaking majesty of an era long gone by, an era Sweeney missed fondly because you could get a slice of pie and a hard drink for little cash and every now and then he'd catch a glimpse of some lady's stocking top as a gust of wind hit.

He pulled his denim jacket around him, wishing it was still socially acceptable to have cloaks before pushing the door open where an old fashioned bell above tinkled. He could tell this place was a relic but he already loved it for that.

He walked to the red stools next to the counter and relished the warmth of the place and the wafting smell of coffee that lingered and mixed with the scent of pastry.

Sweeney wasn't expecting you to pop up from behind the counter as suddenly as you did and he clutched his chest as he flinched.

“Fuckin' hell!” he exclaims.

“Sorry!” you look mortified to have made him jump. “People keep dropping things over here.”

He wished he could say he was a gentleman and looked at your face first but....he didn't. His eyes travelled up the waitress uniform, following the line of your body until he finally lingered on the sweet face that was shyly tucking a stray hair behind the ear.

“Not to worry, little lasslin'. Woke me up. Got any whiskey for a weary man?”

“I sure do but not the expensive stuff.”

“I'm not particular,” he tries for a charming smile, hoping it lands.

“One whiskey coming up,” you smile back, although he's sure it's your default customer smile.

Nice all the same.

It had been a long time since a bonnie girl had smiled at him.

You brought the whiskey over as he was playing with his coin and your eyes immediately darted to it. Sweeney could see the flare of interest there.

“That's unusual,” you nod at it. “Seems old. Family heirloom?”

“You could say that,” he chuckles, holding it out for you to take.

He watches you study it, feeling an almost sense of pride that for once someone was interested in something that was essentially him and not what he could do for them. When your fingers trace the lines of the sun, he's mesmerised by the care you're taking with it.

“It's really pretty,” you hand it back.

He leans forward and you lean in too, “Not as pretty as you, mind.”

You took it in the spirit it was meant and didn't give him a slap so that was encouraging at least. He twirls the coin between his fingers before presenting it again.

“They say this is the very treasure of the sun. It bestows luck to whoever holds it n' the sun's good grace.”

“I could do with some of that right now,” you laugh.

“Got some problems?”

“There was an incident this morning with a customer,” you sigh, smoothing down the apron but you didn't elaborate. “Happens.”

“Well I tell ya what. I like this place already and so long as I'm around, no fucker is gonna spoil yer day. How about that?”

“What's your name?” you ask.

“Sweeney.”

“Nice to meet you Sweeney. Can I get anything else for you?”

“What's the best pie ya got?”

“Apple is always the favourite but between you and me, the Mississippi Mud Pie is better,” you whisper conspiratorially. “But don't tell my boss I said that.”

“Not a word,” he zips over his mouth before draining his glass. “One a' that then, lasslin' n' another whiskey.”

Sweeney can't help but watch you as you work, setting the glass down in front of him before serving him up a slice and he notes you look around to check as if you're doing something you shouldn't before putting both cream and ice cream on the side. You pass it along to him with a finger over your lips.

“You're only supposed to get one technically,” you wink.

“Yer very good to me, sweetheart,” Sweeney smiles broadly. “This is already my favourite diner I've ever been too n' don't worry, I'll keep my promise. Nobody will insult ya, hurt ya or upset ya whilst I'm here.”

“I'd best serve some other customers. Don't want them to think I'm playing favourites,” you give him a tiny wave before scooting off to refill coffee.

You were right, the pie was fantastic and he almost cried to discover the ice cream appeared to be the homemade variety. It had been so long so he'd had any type of cream that wasn't artificial. He was so sick of being summoned to his worshipper's homes and given dime store whip that tasted like the back end of a plastic conveyor belt.

He put down his money, giving a large tip and sliding it near to where you were making cocoa for someone. He ended up doing a coin trick out of habit which you watched with raptured interest before taking the cash.

“Thanks,” you smile brightly at him. “I'm heading off after this, split shift wears a girl out but if you ever come back, you have to teach me how to do that.”

“I'll teach ya anything ya want for good conversation and more pie,” he laughs.

“Deal. See you around Sweeney,” you head into the back room to change before a surly looking older man comes out to replace you.

This man wasn't nearly as interesting as you were and Sweeney's attention went back to drinking. Funnily enough, he'd forgotten all about that burning thirst to get obliterated when talking to you. There was something so easygoing, so comfortable about you that it felt like he'd lifted his head above the fog of his alcoholism for the first time in years.

Oh he'd definitely be back alright. He wouldn't fuck things up this time. He really liked it here.

And as he watched you in your normal clothes stride out into the darkening night, he thought maybe ending up here was lucky after all.

[boneswriteswords]

the lost boys meeting their s/o was so good! can you please do a continuation??

Hi! I’m glad you liked the original. I wasn’t a fan of how it turned out but I’m glad someone did enjoy it. 

Here is a part two. Not gonna lie, I had no idea how to approach a continuation so I just did a bunch of head canons of what happens in the next few months after you met them, before you know they are vampires and before you know that you are their mate. 

Hope you enjoy it! 

- After that night in the store, you found yourself surrounded by four needy bois most nights. The only nights where you didn’t see them where the nights you had off and decided to chill at home, doing whatever it is that you do.

         - This quickly changed because they found out where you lived and if you weren’t at the store when they came around, they’d show up at your home. You don’t know how they found out where you lived but you couldn’t be too mad at them, especially when they brought you dinner.

- They invite you to their lair after the first week but, as a smart, sensible person, you don’t. You literally just met these dudes and they wanna take you somewhere private? Nah. David isn’t sure how to respond to the rejection because he and his boys share a single brain cell so he doesn’t know what to do when confronted with someone who has more than that.

         - Lowkey, he takes it as a challenge. You want safety? You recognize your own vulnerability? You know how dangerous the world is? Guess what you cute ass bitch, he is gonna establish the biggest trust bond with you. He’s gonna make sure that you find comfort in him. He. IS. GONNA. MAKE. YOU. FEEL. SAFE. WITH. HIM. IF. IT. KILLS. HIM.

         - When you do finally visit their cave, he is the proudest he has ever been and fucking preens while you explore.

- They take you on motorcycle rides and you quickly decide that Dwayne is one you like to drive with most. He keeps pace with the others but he doesn’t do stupid tricks with his bike that could send you flying. Like, none of them would ever let you get hurt - they panic at the idea of you being hurt - but they like to get your adrenaline pumping. (Remember how I said that your blood sings to them? B i t c h it calls to them like a siren calls to a pirate when your heart is beating fast.)

        - Dwayne is also a physical person. He doesn’t speak much so he relies on physical touch and affection to get his point across. He also uses it to determine how people feel about him and their moods. Body language speaks a lot louder than words and he uses it as a guide to determine what to do next. Feeling you press against him, gripping onto him and not being afraid of squeezing or touching his skin lets him know that you find him to be safe. You trust him. There isn’t a social barrier that makes contact awkward and IT MAKES HIM SMILE SO WIDE.

- You quickly realize that Paul’s chaotic energy is his default setting and adjust to either match it or diffuse it, depending on the fuckery he is trying to get you to do. A lot of the time, its simple things - pranks, tricks, general mischief - and as long as no one gets hurt, you are down to be his partner in crime (and you know for a fact his selective hearing only picked up the word PARTNER). There have been times where he’s been downright feral and you’ve had to talk him down from doing something insane (which, I mean, you think they are human so you think they have the same limitations that you do and he thinks it so cute that you want him to be safe).

          - He is also shook at how easy it is for him to calm down when you tell him too. He finds himself looking to you to see your reactions to things he is doing and curbs his impulses if he sees you are uncomfortable or disapproving. He wants you to be happy with him. Paul usually does not give a fuck about what people think of him but YOU? His actual mate? The actual living embodiment of love? Yeah, he gives a fuck. He wants you to love him.

- Marko is the most sensitive about you and your presence. He gets overwhelmed by you. He is the youngest of these feral bat babies. Compared to the others, he is a baby bat. The intensity of connection is still foreign to him and he still has nights where he needs to adjust to the connection he has to the other bois. Its why he feels the need to fight, he needs to get some of the energy out. You existing near him is a lot for him and he is the neediest when it comes to your attention.

          - You don’t know how much pull you have on him and it is hard for him to not show you. David said they needed to be patient. You needed to be wooed. You needed to trust them. You needed to want them as much as they wanted you. This was an endgame. They couldn’t fuck this up. Marko understands but he has no patience.

         - He gets by with doing things with you. Walking together to get food. Doing separate hobbies but together in the same space. Dancing together during concerts. It helps him cope.

- Jackets. You end up not ever needing a jacket ever again. The moment it gets the slightest bit chilly or if they see you getting all goose pimply, you are given one of their jackets. They alternate which nights they give you their jacket because once they all handed you a jacket and your cute ass thought they wanted you to carry them so you did.

- They end up having long conversations about you on the rare night where they aren’t going to spend a lot of time with you. Most of it is making plans for when you join them (because make no mistake, you will) and getting the cave cleaned up to give you spaces for the parts of your old life you want to bring into your new life.

          - However, they do open up about their fears, their desires, their wants and needs, to each other. They’ve always been pretty good with talking with each other but this is a whole new ballgame and they aren’t sure how to play.

- You meet Max. Max heard through the grapevine that his boys were hanging around a human and he was curious. Why were they playing with their food this time? He sends the boys off to do some bullshit errand and ‘runs’ into you at the boardwalk. He draws you into a conversation and five minutes in, he knows. You are his boys’ mate. He can feel it on you and he approves. You are none the wiser.

        - The bois are high-key angry and annoyed that he interfered but they don’t say anything. He is their sire and he didn’t scare you away and him knowing does help them keep other supernatural creatures away from you.

- HIGH KEY PROTECTIVE. They do not like others hanging around you too long. You are unclaimed which means that someone could ask you out. You could go on a date. You could fall in love with someone. They are already needy with your attention and if they catch anyone sniffing around you in any sort of interested manner, they get irritated. If they catch anyone sniffing around you with harmful intentions, they get murderous.

          - This will decrease in intensity when you are one of them and have accepted their bond. Much of their behavior is mate-guarding. They cool down quite a bit once they are secure that you are theirs and have no intention of leaving them.

- Love when you get dressed up. They like to help you with your looks (with them sneaking their own shit into your wardrobe) because they love seeing you comfortable in yourself. If you say something makes you feel good or makes you feel attractive, they encourage it completely. They want you to love yourself.

        - They will steal things for you so don’t look at something for too long or mention that you want something because they will snatch it for you and you cannot stop them.

~~~

End

~~~

[hunidlo]

Call of Fire

CHAPTER 2 - The Purpose

Rating: M

Word Count: 3K

Pairing: The Mandalorian x F!Reader

Warnings: slow burn fic,  violence, injuries, death, grief, language

A/N: English is not my first language so apologies for any mistakes in grammar. I’m basically making stuff up about the reader’s powers but why not, right?

Summary: Taunting a bandit is never a good idea. Thank Maker, Mando is near to save the day.

< Previous Chapter  //  Masterlist

***

The Mandalorian stands on the top of the ramp to his ship looking in the direction of your escape, the stick still firmly clutched in his hand. He tosses it to the side with frustration and shakes his head to clear his mind and forget about the whole incident. He knows he has more pressing matters to attend to right now. He looks at the tracking fob which is now flashing rapidly with red light. 

He lifts his head and looks again towards the woods where you have disappeared just moments ago—

“Shit!” he sighs.

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

You are trying to calm down and catch your breath. Your knees buckle, taking you to the ground. You sit exhausted, stabbing pain regularly shooting to your side. 

“You mean ... like ... a real Mandalorian?” Zullu is standing above you, wiping sweat from her forehead with dirty hands, smearing mud all over it. “Like from my gran’s stories?”

“Yep,” you say simply. 

And then you start laughing. Hysterically. It might be the exhaustion, or maybe you just can't believe you pulled off sneaking into a ship belonging to a Mandalorian. Maybe both … but you are currently laughing yourself silly.

Zullu is watching you awkwardly. She chuckles a couple of times until she is laughing with you and your guffaws echo through the forest.

“We should get back to the village,” you say eventually, still panting and your stomach aching from all the giggling. “I owe you—by the way—you totally saved me back there,” you admit and Zullu smiles at you in appreciation.

“D-do you think he’s following us?” Zullu is biting her nails and keeps looking over her shoulder as you walk.

“Relax. If he was, he would have already caught us.”

Oh, just how badly you have underestimated him.

***

You’re finally getting closer to the village when the sun is about to set. You’re exhausted but you can’t stop wondering, what is a Mandalorian doing on this planet.

Then again, maybe it’s for the best that you don’t know and if you are lucky, he’ll leave just as quickly as he appeared because the last thing the people in your village need right now, is more trouble. And he sure looked like a lot of trouble … broad-shouldered, mysterious, intriguing, and so intimidating … yeah, ... basically a definition of trouble.

“Gran used to say, most Mandalorians were mercenaries and bounty hunters. Maybe he’s really here because of ... you.” Zullu says out of nowhere, interrupting your—let’s be honest, slightly embarrassing—train of thought.

You shake your head when you process what she’s saying, “Nonsense, how could he possibly ... it’s been fifteen years ...”

“Yeah, but they don’t forget, you know,” Zullu frowns, looking genuinely worried. “You can’t be hiding here forever.”

“Fed up with me already?” you try to lighten the now heavy atmosphere. In fact, you are not overly fond of the conversation getting far too serious now.

“No … n-no, you know you’re my best friend”—she’s looking down at her feet as always when she’s struggling to find the right words—“it’s just … I feel … feel like you have a different … purpose, you know? ... Like in life? ... You’re not supposed to work on the field for the rest of it.”

“What’s wrong with the work on the field?”

“Except the fact that you hate it?” 

You don’t like her sarcastic tone—yet—she’s got a point. You love the village, you love the people, but a farmer’s life is just not for you. You crave adventure. Maybe that’s why you so desperately seek it whenever a chance occurs. Eventually, you have to admit to yourself that—to some extent—that’s why you want to fight the bandits … and why you so recklessly pissed the Mandalorian off ... 

… And then there’s the thing about your origin and your parents. Fifteen years ago, your parents left you here to hide you—to save you. The villagers took you in. You want to go to search for your parents but … you could never leave Zullu.

“I …,” Zullu continues when you’re being quiet for too long, “I just think … know actually … you’re meant to—.”

“And you?” you smile and try to steer the conversation away from you. “What’s your life purpose?” 

She shrugs, “Uh ... don’t know... haven’t found my purpose yet.”

“Well, I’m sure yours is much greater than mine.”

Zullu exhales through her nose. “Don’t you wanna know why your parents left you here, hiding you from—” She looks over her shoulder one more time. “—the Empire?” she whispers the last words as if someone might be eavesdropping.

Oh no, here we go—the topic you wanted to avoid.

“The Empire is gone,” you reply, “my parents are ... too—most probably—so we might just never know.”

“A-and you’re okay with that? I mean… not knowing who you really are?”

“Yes,” you say resolutely. “And I’m fine with working on the farm for the rest of my life,” not so resolutely.

Zullu tilts her head sideways, raises her eyebrows at you and blinks slowly.

“Why are you bringing this up again?” irritation in your voice is now undeniable.

“Because… the Mandalorian—”

“Oh, Mandalorian-Shmandalorian ...” you snap.

“... and I haven’t told you but—” she continues, ignoring your comment, “—I have overheard mum talking about you. She said … said your parents—”

“Do you hear that?” you cut her off. “Listen ...”

And then you hear it again. The horn.

The horn!

What? No. No! It’s too early, it can’t be ... next week … it’s three months next week … they shouldn’t be here this early.

Wasting no more time, you burst into a sprint and run to the village as fast as you can. Zullu’s right behind you.

The villagers are just as confused as you are but are already gathering on the square nevertheless.

“What’s happening? They shouldn’t—” Zullu panics.

“I know,” you exhale, “They’re early. We’re not ready.”

“What do we do?”

You sigh but do not reply to her.

The bandits head straight to the barn to look for the stored food. Their leader is watching over the villagers who stand in a line as always. One of the bandits comes over and whispers something to his boss, but you can’t hear what he’s saying.

“Take everything, we’re gonna need it,” the leader replies to his mate and dismisses him with a simple wave of his hand.

With that … Shit! The fire’s back. It’s back and it’s running through your body like molten lava— 

“You can’t!” you hear yourself crying out with a voice firmer than you expected. “You’re early … we couldn’t … the people will starve here!”

Zullu, who is standing next to you, turns her head in your direction wide-eyed.

You are not exactly sure why you did it—and what you should do next—but you can't let them steal all your supplies, right?

The leader takes a few steps forward and looks down at you.

Surprisingly enough, you’re not scared. You’ve seen a more intimidating gaze today and this guy is nowhere near as threatening as the Mandalorian. So you give him the most defiant look you have. And then—

Your little staring competition ends abruptly when the bandit slaps you with the back of his armoured hand and watches as you drop to your knees. 

Son of a bitch, that hurt. That fucking hurt. You hold your jaw in your hand and flex it as you feel the coppery taste of blood filling your mouth.

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

“Stupid … again … brave … but stupid,” the Mandalorian exhales to himself.

He’s lying on the top of the hill above the village, observing the whole scenario through the scope of his rifle. 

He rises to his feet with an irritated grunt.

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

You don’t remember ever being hit like this. Your jaw hurts but you’re determined not to let the bastard enjoy humiliating you. You need a few moments to recover but then you slowly get to your feet again, put on the same venomous look as before, and spit in the bandit’s face, spattering a considerable amount of blood mixed with your saliva all over his repulsive visage.

“You little ...” The bandit wipes the blood with the back of his hand and gropes for his blaster. 

To your astonishment—and before you can come up with an action plan preventing you from being shot in the head—he suddenly halts his movement and is now looking over your shoulder, squinting at something behind you.

You follow his gaze and turn around to see ... 

… the Mandalorian?

Huh, so he followed you back after all.

Only now can you take a proper look at him as he’s slowly approaching the village. Sure, you saw—and let’s not forget also fought—him back on his ship, but everything happened so quickly that you didn’t have time to fully scrutinize the way he looks. 

You should not be so amazed. You used to listen to Zullu’s grandmother—eagerly hanging on her every word—when she told the stories about the Mando’ade to local children in the evenings. You knew the Mandalorians are bound with a creed and their culture revolves around war and battles which the elderly woman used to tell you about. Never have you imagined them to be this impressive though. So you just stand there with your mouth half open, taking in every detail of him as he comes nearer. 

He’s tall, evidently agile and strong, judging by his arms and thighs. Well, and you also remember how hard his grip was on you this afternoon. His armour seems almost crimson now as it reflects the light of the setting sun. Beskar—you recall— that's what the old woman said their armour was made of. He has a rifle strapped to his back, a blaster by his side, and the wind plays with his cape as it flutters behind him. What a presence. 

His helmet is pointed at the bandit standing next to you, piercing him with the same intimidating look he gave you when he caught you sneaking into his ship.

“Let them go,” he says, his voice dark and foreboding.

“We have no quarrel with you, Mando. Feel free to turn around and walk away.” The bandit is trying to stay calm but he’s just whistling in the dark.

“If you don’t want to start one, leave the supplies and never come back.” The Mandalorian is getting closer and closer to the square keeping the same slow resolute pace.

The other raiders have already noticed the disturbance and one by one began emerging from the barn, joining their leader on the square.

The Mandalorian doesn’t seem to care much that he’s outnumbered. He stops and rests his hand on his holster. He looks at the villagers and jerks his helmet to the side. They understand the gesture and back up slowly. You intend to do the same.

However, the bandit leader notices your intention, quickly wraps an arm around your neck and pushes you in front of him, hiding thus his body behind you. He’s now taking slow steps back—retreating—using your body as a human shield.

“Kill him,” he growls and drags you behind the cart that is conveniently standing in the square with half of your supplies already loaded up.

Your back is pushed to the offender's chest so you're facing away from all the action and you can only hear when the blasters begin shooting all at once. You have no idea what’s happening on the square behind you. You can hope for the best but you’re not entirely sure what it is. From what you know, the Mandalorian might be just as barbaric as the bandits so it might be out of the frying pan and into the fire for the village anyway.

After a good ten minutes of shooting, dull bangs and a couple of shrieks, there’s silence. 

Suddenly—you’re being pulled out from the hideout. The last bandit standing is pushing you in front of him and you can feel a barrel of his blaster now pressed to your temple.

There are about ten bodies lying scattered around the square—lifeless—a smoke from the blaster shots still rising from some of them. With your peripheral vision, you can see a few of the survivors disappearing in the woods. They apparently decided to cut and run.

The Mandalorian is kneeling on one knee, leaning over one of the bodies, checking their vital signs. He swiftly draws his weapon again when he sees you two approaching.

“Drop the blaster, Mando,” the bandit warns. “Drop it, or I’ll kill her.”

The Mandalorian puts his hands up slowly and lays his blaster on the ground. However, as he raises to his feet, a flock of little whistling arrows shoots from his vambrace and flies towards you. You shut your eyes awaiting certain death. Instead, the pressure against your temple disappears, the arm around your neck eases its grip and the bandit falls dead behind you.

You raise your vision only to see the Mandalorian striding towards you. You’re still petrified and puzzled. 

Suddenly, he stops midway, staring emptily behind you. 

Um ... this is not good. 

You slowly turn around and gulp.

A horde of bandits, probably the rest of their encampment is rushing towards you. Ten or fifteen brutes armed with blasters, knives and spears got alerted somehow and are ready to avenge their fallen comrades. 

“Hide!” the Mandalorian shouts to you, raising his blaster again.

You do as you’re told. You run past him and across the square, noticing the huts are deserted. All the villagers must have already fled to the woods during the first shootout. You can only hope that Zullu escaped with them.

You dash into the woods not stopping for a moment. You can still hear the shooting behind you coming from the village. You should find the others, find Zullu, make sure she’s alright—

A figure comes from their hideout behind one of the trees about fifty feet in front of you.

It's one of the bandits.

“Going somewhere?” he smirks at you, his blaster already levelled at your chest. 

He doesn’t wait for your reaction. A blaster shot echoes through the forest. For a second time today, you close your eyes awaiting the inevitable. When you open them again, Zullu is standing in front of you, her hands spread out in a protective gesture.

“No!” you cry out, tears already forming in the corners of your eyes.

She falls backwards to your arms and you slowly put her to the ground with trembling hands, holding her head in your lap as you kneel under her.

You hear the bandit in front of you burst into laughter. Horrible, gruesome laughter. Rage is building in your body, igniting every molecule. You look at him to see he’s raising his blaster once more to point it at you.

You’re going berserk, the fire is spiralling through you more intensely than ever before. You feel like your body would combust if you hold it back longer. You can’t fight it anymore. You won’t.

Somehow instinctively, you stretch your arms out in front of you, your fingers spread out but you’re slowly, convulsively closing them up. The bandit’s body lifts from the ground. Confused, he frantically kicks around, searching for solid ground under his feet. Then, his face distorts into a horrifying, painful grimace. You are holding him in front of you for a couple of seconds until you abruptly spread your arms with an excruciating scream. Following the movement of your hands, the bandit’s body is torn in half in front of your eyes. His lower half is tossed vigorously to the left, his torso to the right, colliding with the nearby tree with a splashy thud.

You have absolutely no understanding of what just happened but you have no time to think about it now. You quickly turn your attention to Zullu who is looking at you with glossy eyes.

There’s a nasty blaster wound in her belly and she’s covering it with her weak hands. 

“Zullu—,” you cry out, “—fuck—what have you done?”

“I saved you, dummy.” Her chuckles turn to cough.

“... You’re gonna be alright. We’ll get you help … just stay with me, okay?” You try to shift yourself under her body so that you can attend to her wound.

She grabs you by your wrist and shakes her head. “I’m fine ... I’m ready ... f-found … my purpose ...,” she struggles to speak, “... now promise me, you’ll find yours.”

“Don’t talk like that—” 

“I saw what you did … I’ve always known … you’re special.”

“I-uh ...” You’re lost for words.

“... I overheard mum saying … saying your father was a doctor—clone engineer … worked for the … Empire … betrayed them … they hunted him ... that’s why your parents hid you here.” Zullu coughs and takes a couple of deep breaths before she speaks again. “She knows where they are.” Zullu looks straight to your eyes as she continues, “I’m sorry I haven’t told you before. I was scared you would leave, but I know now that you have to go,  you have to find them.”

“You’re my best friend, I won’t leave you, I need y—” a choking sense of despair causes your voice to crack before you are able to finish.

“You were never meant to stay on this p-planet ... you’re meant to do great things ... I know it ... find your parents, find your purpose … promise me ...”

You feel dizzy now. “Zullu—” 

“Promise me!” she urges.

“I promise ...”

She smiles at you, raising her hand to touch your cheek but it collapses on the ground beside her and you witness the sparks in her eyes die out.

You burst into tears and tug her close to you. Hugging and squeezing her motionless body—consumed by aching grief—you cry.

You do not know how much time has passed but you finally find the strength to get up from the ground. You gently pick Zullu’s body up. The shooting that could have been heard from the village before has ceased.

You slowly walk towards the village, carrying Zullu in your arms. You don’t care about the possible threat that might still be lurking in the woods. Your mind is blank, you feel empty inside. There’s nothing left, only pain.

You have lost everything today.

***

< Previous Chapter //  Masterlist

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

Never In My Life (Baker!Shawn)

A/N: I haven’t written in like two months and I wrote most of this in about an hour but I love this it! It may be one of my favorites! 

Summary: You and Shawn exchange pastries for books every week. When your boyfriend dumps you, it brings out emotions you two failed to show before. (Best friends to lovers!) (Baker!Shawn) 

Word Count: 2.4k +

Warnings: Swearing, a *fight* but not really. 

“Welcome to Baker Boys Pastries-- oh, it’s just Y/N,” Shawn said as you walked through the door of his bakery. You shake you head. After all these years, you thought he would’ve come up with a better greeting by now. 

“Dang, I was gone for two whole weeks and this is the greeting I get?” you laugh, walking up to the counter and placing your hands on it. 

“I don’t see a book in your hands so I can’t be bothered by your presence.”

“Bold of you to assume I would ever come without a book. All I want is my free pastry. Your face disgusts me.” 

“Shut up,” he mumbles as he walks around the counter to pull you into a hug. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, ya goof.” 

“Let me get your pastry.”

“Hey, how long ‘til you close?” 

“Half an hour.” 

“I’ll stick around.” 

A smile came to Shawn’s face. It had only been two weeks since he saw his best friend yet she looked like she had a month’s worth of information to tell him. 

“What book did you bring this time?” he asked as he grabbed a cinnamon bun and put it on a plate. You made the plate for him years ago during a pottery class and gave it as a Christmas present. You were the only person he ever let use it. 

“It’s called Running With Scissors. It’s a really good memoir and I think you’ll love it.” You absentmindedly messed with the trim that decorated the counter. 

“If you picked it out I’m sure it’s great.” He smiled even though you couldn’t see him. He knew that the second you got a chance to sit down and talk to him, you would go on forever about how much you loved it. 

He missed the blush that rushed to your cheeks. He was the only person who actually listened to your book rambles. 

“Here’s your cinnamon bun, my dear,” Shawn said, handing you the plate of warm delight from behind the counter, “and I will see you in twenty five minutes.” 

You took the plate and went to sit at a table near in a corner of the bakery. You planned to finish the book you were reading but got distracted watching Shawn baking. You couldn’t help it. The apron he had on was too cute, not to mention his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his hair was messy from working all day. 

You snapped out of your trance when he came over to you table, pulling out a seat and plopping down with a small huff. 

“Alrighty, tell me about the trip.” His smile was contagious and you couldn't help but smile yourself. 

“It was fun, I guess.” You smile faded. You were kinda hoping you could avoid that subject.

“What do you mean, ‘you guess’?” 

“Zack called to dump me on the third day,” you sighed, drumming your fingers on the table. 

“What the hell?” he asked. His eyebrows furrowed as he reached a hand across the table to grab yours. 

“Yeah. Said he met another girl and he couldn’t wait until I got home to do it so he just called me.” 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He never would’ve imagined Zack doing something so terrible. He was a decent guy and the two of you made a great couple. At least, that’s what Shawn had been telling himself for the past three years. 

“It’s alright. I’m over it.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t really want to talk about it.” Your eyes said something else, but he didn’t push it. 

“Okay. Let’s talk about the book then.” Shawn noticed how the light immediately came back to your eyes. 

“Yes! I read it a few weeks ago and you are going to absolutely love it!” you gushed, pulling you hand from his to grab it from your bag. Shawn’s smile faltered slightly at the loss of contact. You told him about the book and all he could do was stare at you with pure admiration. 

“Shawn.” You snapped your fingers in front of his face and he snapped up. “You’re staring.”

“No, I’m not,” he defended, but you noticed the slight pink tint that came to his cheeks. “I’m just so bored by all this book talk.”

“You’re the only person who’s ever listened to my book rambles. I’m fairly sure you care at least a little bit.” You rolled your eyes as he continued to stare. “You’re staring again.”

“Why do you care so much?” he chuckled. His heart was screaming at him to tell you just how pretty you looked, but he knew now wasn’t the time. 

“Because it’s creepy.” It was his turn to roll his eyes. “But I don’t mind it that much.” 

“Well if you catch me staring at you in your room tonight, you can’t call the cops.” 

“That is not what I meant,” you say through a fit of giggles. “If I find you at my house in the middle of the night, I will call the FBI.”

“You would never.” 

The next two hours consisted of you talking about the most random things. Stories you had probably told a thousand times but couldn’t get enough of. That’s what Shawn loved about you. Yes, you owned a bookstore, but you were a writer too. At least, in his eyes. You had a way with words that he’d never seen in anyone else. 

You helped him finish cleaning up and he walked you to your car. 

“I missed you,” he said with a small smile. You leaned your back against your car and looked up at him. 

“I missed you too. You wanna come over to my house tomorrow and have a game night?” 

“Hell yeah.” 

“Awesome. I close at 6:30 so come over whenever after that.” 

“Sounds good. Night, Y/N.” 

“Night, Shawn.” You got in your car and drove home. Maybe him being over would help you stop wallowing over Zack. 

~

You were closing shop in about 45 minutes and you could not wait to go home and hang out with Shawn. The bell over the doorway rang, signifying that someone had come in. You looked up from your stool to see Shawn with a box of pizza in his hand.

“Hey, you’re early,” you say, typing something on your laptop and closing the lid. 

“Oh, I can leave and eat this pizza if you want,” Shawn says with a grin, turning his body around to walk out.

“No, no need to do that,” you say with haste, throwing your hands out to grab his arm over the counter. They were to short though, and slapped the counter, causing you to grimace. “You can stay, I guess.” 

He smiled brightly and walked back towards the counter, placing the pizza box down and leaning on his elbows. “You can close early and we can go.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen Mr.” A customer approached the counter with a stack of books and you push his elbows to the side to help them.

“Come on. I’ll start cleaning up.” He made a pleading look and you rolled your eyes. 

“Fine.”

He leaves to organize the stack of books by the door when a familiar man walks in. Zack. He looks back towards the counter and sees you’re nor there. You must’ve gone to the back to grab something. 

“Hey, man. Is Y/N here?” Zack asks from the doorway. 

Shawn glares at him, putting the book in his hand down turning to face him. 

“I don’t think you should be here.” You hadn’t told Shawn how you really felt about the breakup, but he saw the pain in your eyes last night and he knew you didn’t want to see Zack. 

“Where is she?” 

“Zack, seriously-”

“Zack?” you ask as you come from behind a bookshelf. “What are you doing here?” 

“Y/N, I made a mistake. I’m so sorry,” Zack said, speed walking towards you and holding his arms out for a hug. 

You step back with a disgusted look on your face. “What are you doing here?”

“I should’ve never left you. I made a really shitty move back there and you need to know that I love you so much. Casandra was nothing to me and you’re so much better. Please take me back.” He tries to wrap his arms around you and you try to push him away. 

Shawn starts to walk over to you the second Zack hugs you. This wasn’t going to last very long. 

“Get off me,” you say, trying to push him away. You only pushed for a few seconds before Shawn ripped Zack off of you. 

“Look, Zack. She doesn’t want to see you. Get out of here.” 

“Oh yeah?” Zack crossed his arms over his chest, trying to show off the muscles he didn’t have. “What are you gonna do about it, baker boy?” 

“Shawn.” You put your hand on his shoulder with a pleading look. 

He gave you a look you couldn’t read and turned back to Zack, crossing his arms as well. “You have no place in this shop. I suggest you get out before I make you get out.”

“Please, I’m not scared of a boy who bakes cakes for a living. You really think Y/N keeps you around because you’re an interesting guy? That bitch just wants the free cake.” 

He couldn’t say anything else before your fist was in his face. He was taken aback, holding his cheek with a surprised look. “What the fuck?” 

“Get out,” you growled as tears made their way to your eyes, a stunned Shawn behind you. “Get out and don’t come back.” 

Zack left with a scoff, slamming the door on his way out. The books on the shelf next to it toppled over and you sighed. 

Shawn stepped up to you with a worried look and put a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?” 

“No.” Your voice faltered and the tears started falling. Shawn pulled you into a hug, one hand holding your head to his chest while the other rubbed circles into your side. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he said softly. You shook against him and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

The bell rang and Shawn was ready to turn around and fight. It was only a new customer though. “Welcome to Book Nook. Let me know if you need anything,” he said and they simply nodded, walking towards a bookshelf on the opposite side of the store.

“Let’s go to the back,” he said against your head.

You nodded against his chest and let him lead you to an area customers weren’t allowed in. 

“Alright, hang out here for a sec. I’m gonna help that customer and then I’m gonna close up and we’re gonna go home, okay?” 

“Okay,” you say, taking a deep breath before pulling out of his grip. 

“I’ll be right back.” He kissed your forehead and left, leaving you with your thoughts. 

How had you not noticed it? He definitely cared about you the way you did him. The affectionate looks, the staring, the way he was always there for you, no matter what. 

He came back ten minutes later, a sympathetic smile on his face. “Ready to go?” 

“Yeah.” You sniffled and wiped a final tear, pushing yourself off the wall and walking towards him. 

“I can grab some ice cream for you if you want,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“No, it’s fine. I just want pizza and game night.” Shawn chuckles and leads you out of the shop. “And can we make muffins?”

“Absolutely.” 

~ 

“Dude, if you do that I swear I will literally beat your ass,” Shawn warned playfully as he saw you think about knocking his piece out in Sorry. 

“Please. You’re too scared of my punch to even come close to me,” you shot back, knocking his piece out with a smirk and taking a bite of the muffin you made earlier. Well, Shawn did most of the work. You unsuccessfully tried to eat all the chocolate chips most of the time. “Holy shit, this is amazing.” 

His dramatic shocked face was enough to send you into loads of laughter. When you finally calmed down, you noticed how his face had softened. 

“You sure you’re okay about today?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Y/N, you had a full on break down. I don’t want to be rude or push you too much but I don’t want you to hide this from me. You push your emotions away a lot and I really think you need to open up about this.” 

Your smile faded and you sighed. “You know me too well.”

“It’s part of the job.” You giggled lightly at this, avoiding eye contact. “For real though, Y/N. I think you should talk about it. You’re not one to punch people.” 

“It’s just . . . I don’t know. He dumped me over the phone and shows up expecting me to just take him back? And then he hugged me and I just felt so disgusted. Like, it’s just disgusting.” You started to tear up again. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Shawn moved around to your side of the table and pulled you into a hug. “He’s not gonna bother you anymore. I’ll make sure of it.” 

You put your head on his shoulder. “How are you going to do that? Be my bodyguard at the shop all the time?” 

“If I have to, that’s what I’ll do.” 

You chuckled. “You are the best friend ever.” 

He smiled sadly. That’s all he would ever be to you: a friend. 

 You lifted your head and took a good look at him. His eyes glistened in the light and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked. All of a sudden you felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him. 

Shawn opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off, grabbing his face and kissing him. It was filled with years of built up emotions that neither of you could deny. 

You pulled away with fear in your eyes and Shawn looked slightly shocked. 

“Shawn, I like you so much. I just . . . I needed . . . I needed to do that.” 

“Y/N, I like you too, but are you sure about this?”

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my entire life.” 

[circe-poetica]

Saturn in the houses

SATURN IN THE 1ST HOUSE This people may learn later in life self assertiveness, if everything goes well. They might find difficult to separate ones individuality from the collective and have a hard time saying no. Attracting domineering people that might force their opinions on them or even ask from them to sacrifice themselves. Even if they have a good understanding about what's wrong and right, they might lack the confidence or courage do to things their way. This placement shows a past life where self expression caused pain and suffering. The challenge in this lifetime is to overcome that fear and grow some balls. SATURN IN THE 2ND HOUSE You may spend half of your life being broken as fuck. Either you're ok with that or not you'll probably attract people that will value you based on your possessions and even try to steal from you. Trying to be rich is pointless, even if you find the balls to risk an investment you'll probably be robbed. Make peace with your mind that you'll have to work 10 times more than others and satisfactions will come . When you'll be 50. SATURN IN THE 3RD HOUSE You're fucked. Your siblings hate you, neighbors hate you, colleges hate you, even the grocery store clerk hates you. Because apparently in a past life you were a bitch. The main problem is the way you communicate. It turns people off. Your challenge in this lifetime is to overcome the fear of being ridiculed for expressing yourself. Don't worry, later on in life your communication skills will improve or you'll just stop talking. SATURN IN THE 4TH HOUSE This is a tough one. Your parents might have been jerks to you during childhood. You either became one yourself or you attract tyrannical partners. Never disrespect family members or treat them poorly this will keep your Saturn happy and might stop fucking you that hard. Arguing and stressing over everything will only cause you an ulcer. SATURN IN THE 5TH HOUSE The party pooper. This people just don't know how to have fun. NO, talking about ramifications of the ozone layer depletion on your first date it's not appealing! Saturn here can make one be emotionally dried , jealous ,selfish and if Saturn is further afflicted then it makes the native stupid as well. The challenge here is to get the stick out of your ass and just enjoy things! SATURN IN THE 6TH HOUSE Even though you might be a workaholic people just don't give you credit for everything that you do, leading to frustration. Saturn here forces you to take extra care of your health, so go see a damn nutritionist! You can't help no one if you don't get some rest. The challenge is to find balance between work and the rest of your fucking life. SATURN IN THE 7TH HOUSE You either will never get married or you'll get married later on in life having constant disagreements and troubles in your marriage! The people you probably like, have a stick shoved up their ass and show little to no emotions, making you feel secure in a fucked up way. Trying to avoid conflict is pointless, the challenge with this placement is to set your boundaries and tell mfs to fuck off. SATURN IN THE 8TH HOUSE You either gonna have a horrible death or you're gonna live to see everyone else die before you. A marriage with this placement can throw the native in a financial burden, also loaning money is a no no for one might not see that money back. Your sacral chakra will be blocked until you learn to embrace change or die. SATURN IN THE 9TH HOUSE The opinionated that likes to give their 2 cents but not get involved in just about anything. This placement can make one a fanatical religious individual or on the contrary irreligious ,poor and unfortunate. Learning to be more tolerant towards other cultures, religions etc. will help you broaden your understanding about 9th house stuff and stop being seen by others as a total dick. SATURN IN THE 10TH HOUSE The smartass that doesn't trust anyone and thinks he's the only one who knows how to do the job right. In a past life you were a big boss who lost his social position because of unethical means to gain power, abusing power and just being a dick. You try to keep yourself away from the spotlight ,a small mistake could signify public humiliation, the thing you fear the most. The thing you need in order to obtain the recognition you crave for is humility! SATURN IN THE 11TH HOUSE This individuals can be introverted as fuck! Jesus Christ people, going out to eat some pizza with friends and getting married is not the same thing. Having friends and socializing is freaking them out ,in a past life they've been outcast by a group leaving them emotionally constipated. In this lifetime they must overcome that fear and become involved in a group. Start by answering your friends calls you dick! SATURN IN THE 12TH HOUSE In a past life this people were handicaps, mentally ill, and lived on the back of the society, that's why in this lifetime they might have a sense of obligation ,even guilt, towards others. Because of this guilt you might find it hard refusing help to someone which can bring you trouble like losing money, going to jail , being humiliated. The good news is there will be no pending karmic dues in this life, since Saturn is karma and 12th house the house of loss.

[jawritter]

I Did It Because I Love You

**Warning** Angst, Dean is an asshole. Some language, unrequited/requited feelings. Injured Raeder. Brief description of injury and SPN level violence. Angry reader. Fluff. I think that’s it.

A/N: Cross-posted on Wattpad! Please don’t copy my stuff!! As always feedback is gold!! All mistakes are mine! Hope you enjoy it! If you would like to be added to my tag list let me know!!

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader. 

Word Count: 2689

Want more? Check out my Masterlist.

************MASTERLIST*************

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It had been a long hunt. You were tired, the boys were tired, everyone was in a grumpy mood. So you sat quietly in the back seat of Baby, knowing better than to open your mouth right now. It wasn't wise to test Dean when he was in a good mood, but when he was tired and annoyed; that was downright stupid.

You could feel his eyes on you occasionally in the rearview mirror. You refused to meet his gaze. Looking out the window, watching the Texas countryside fly by. It was all you could do to make it through this hunt, his comments and constant belittling of you didn't help your state of mind either. You were unfortunately stuck with the Winchesters right now, so you just decided the only way to deal with Dean and his constant ability to be an absolute asshole was just avoid, and ignore him as much as possible.

Two days ago you stopped talking to him completely, and barely even acknowledge him when he gave instructions on hunts. It was literally driving him insane, and you knew it, but you just didn't have the fight in you anymore it took to stand toe to toe with him.

Your mind wandered back to the last fight you had with him the day before you left to go on this hunt with him.

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

"I know you don't think you're actually going on this hunt, " Dean said, as you descended the stairs into the bunker with your duffle bag over your shoulder.

"Your brother called, said he needed some help with a vamp nest you boys were about to take down in Southeast Texas, asked me to tag along because I was in the area, is that a problem for you Dean?" you asked the eldest Winchester, stopping at the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes, it is a problem. I don't know why my brother thought we needed you of all people to help take down a simple vamp nest, but we're gonna handle this just fine without you. So you can see yourself out." he said, closing the distance between the two of you, towering over you, trying to use his sheer height advantage to make himself look threatening.

"You need to crawl your little ass back in your car, and find someone else to leech off of sweetheart, we don't need you. Every hunt we have to do with you, I have to step in and save your ass. If I wanted another liability on a hunt, I would have called the Ghostfacers."

You wanted more than anything to knock that cocky smirk right off his face, but you knew Sam would lose his shit if you hit his brother.

"Fuck you, Winchester. I can carry my own damn self. I don't need you to save me, I'm not some damsel in distress..."

Dean jumped in before you could even finish your sentence, almost chest to chest with you now.

"Listen to me bitch, you are a piss poor excuse for a hunter, your reckless, and stupid. You don't think three feet ahead of yourself, and if you had any fucking sense, which you obviously don't, you would walk out that door right now, and go wait tables or some shit, because that's all your really qualified to do."

That stung. You'd been hunting since you were Dean's age, even though he was 10 years older than you. You both got thrown into the life the same way, you both were just kids when your mother's died. Your sister wasn't as lucky as Sammy though.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Dean stepped back and walked off before you could respond.

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

The insults and constant criticism of everything you did from then on got worse and worse as the days passed, and you all worked on the hunt. The vamps nest was bigger than you all had thought, and when you all snuck in during the day, to take them out "easy" according to Dean, while they were sleeping. They weren't in fact "sleeping", but very much awake, and it took all of you everything you had in you to take them all down.

Two of them had you back into a corner, and if it wasn't for Dean, you'd either be dead or in transition right now. It wasn't your fault it happened though, you three had thought you had wiped out the whole nest, and you were walking out behind the boys when two vamps grabbed you and tried to drag you back into the house. Dean and his cat-like reflexes cut both their heads off, but not before they had pulled you down by your hair, and drug you a few feet across the dirty cabin floor, leaving a nasty gash on the back of your leg.

Dean tried to check it before you climbed into Baby, but you refused to look at him or let him touch you. You tie your flannel around your leg tightly to stop the bleeding until you could get to the motel to stitch yourself up, and slammed the car door in his face instead of letting him do anything.

Sam said nothing, just watched the exchange. He had not been thrilled with the way his brother had been treating you this week. Making you sleep on the couch, refusing to share a bed with you while knowing Sam was way too tall to share that little full-sized bed with. Everything that came out of his mouth to you for the past three days was an insult. Even though you just took it, and didn't even speak to him Dean never let up. Sam figured he deserved it, and just smirked getting into the car.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Dean pulled into the parking lot of the rundown dump you were staying at. Getting out of the car you limped toward the front of the hotel where the lobby was located.

"Y/N! What are you doing? Come on let us stitch that up!" Dean yelled after you, but you refused to respond, just kept limping toward the front of the hotel, cursing the guy for putting your room all the way in the back of the hotel when you checked in with the boys.

You could hear Dean coming up behind you, he tried to grab your arm, and you turned on your heels. Before you can control your own actions, anger and hurt won out, and you slapped him hard in the face as you could with your thrown off balance. It was still hard enough to make him stumble backward, which you made a mental note to smirk about later. Right now you were too angry.

Dean looked at you with his hand on the side of his face like a deer caught in the headlights. Which was very funny coming from a big, strong, manly hunter; but you didn't have the strength to laugh right now.

You just turned around and started your trip back to the front of the hotel. This time it was Sam running up behind you. Grabbing you by the shoulders, and turning you around to face him. He was smart enough to keep a hold on you though so you couldn't slap him. You could see Dean standing at the same stop, still looking stunned and holding his face.

"Y/N, where are going?" he said, a look of concern on his face.

"To get my own room. I've had enough of Dean and his shit, I want to put some distance between me and your brother before I kill him in his sleep, Sam."

Sam pulled you into a tight hug, and you felt tears falling down your face that you had held at bay the whole ride back to the hotel. After a few minutes he let you go, Dean still stood at a safe distance watching the two of you.

"Wait here, and I'll go get you a room. Then I'll come and stitch your leg up."

You nodded, not saying anything, wiping your face, and hoping Dean hadn't seen you cry because you knew he'd have something mean to say to you about it.

You hobbled your way over to the bench that wasn't far from where you were standing and sat down to wait for Sam to come back with your room key. When you looked up though it wasn't Sam, but Dean standing over you.

"Y/n... I..."

"Get away from her Dean, she's had enough of you, and I don't blame her," Sam said, coming to your rescue. Helping you get to your feet and he leads you to your room away from Dean.

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Two hours later your leg had been stitched and bandaged, thanks to Sam, and you had showered and gotten into your favorite oversized T-shirt and boy shorts. Not bothering to put sleeping pants on because the boys were staying in another room down the breezeway from you, and were there alone. Plus it hurt to have too much rub against your injured leg.

You were almost dozing off when you heard a knock on your door. Thinking it was Sam bringing you food that he'd promised he'd bring to you, you just yelled "It's open," not bothering to get up to look at who it was.

The door opened slowly, and Dean stuck his head in your room. You rolled over on your side away from the door as he entered and closed the door slowly behind him. A bag of food in one hand, and a bag from what looked like the drug store in the other.

"Hey," he said timidly, placing the stuff on your nightstand in front of you. Childishly, but you were to weak and tired to run with an injury, you rolled over on your other side. Trying to not look at him, and refusing to answer him.

"Y/N, Please... You need to eat, and I brought you something for pain. I know that's gotta hurt."

You laid there facing the wall, not saying anything, and still refusing to look at the handsome hunter. Even though you were hurt deeply, even though you were angrier than you'd ever been in your life, your heart still skips a beat when those beautiful green eyes meet yours.

Right now though, you hate it, you want to be mad. You have every right to be angry. Dean had been nothing but nasty to you the whole time you were on this hunt with the Winchesters from the point that you walked into the bunker. He'd repeatedly ripped your heart out and stomped on it. Now, even though he's devastatingly handsome, even though you have spent nights when you weren't even with the Winchesters dreaming of just laying next to him, your trust was broken along with your heart, and you didn't even know if you were able to forgive him.

"Listen, I know you're angry with me, you have every right to be... I've been a horrible dick to you ever since you stepped foot in the bunker. That was wrong.. I'm an idiot. I was hoping that if I discouraged you from coming with us you wouldn't be put in harm's way. I didn't want to see you hurt, and I thought I was protecting you." 

You felt the bed dip under his weight as he sat down on the bed next to you, and his hand came down on your shoulder, which you instinctively pulled away from. You couldn't see him, but you could have sworn you felt him flinch.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I don't know what to do to make what I did better. I don't know how to take it all back. If I did I would. You have every right to be mad at me. Please understand that I did it because I'm in love with you, I thought if you stayed away then you wouldn't be hurt like you are right now. When that fucking thing grabbed you it was like looking at my worse nightmare. I can't stand the thought of having to burn your body sweetheart."

You could feel the tears falling down our face now. You couldn't understand what you were hearing. The Dean Winchester just said he loved you... That's impossible... You must have hit your head harder than you thought, and you were hallucinating... But his hand on your shoulder just now felt very real, his bodyweight next to you, sitting on the bed. That was very real...

Turning to face him slowly you saw he looked horrible. He was paler than usual. He looked completely exhausted. You couldn't make your voice work. All those hateful things he'd said to you still ringing in your head. No matter what he was saying, or how tired he looked.

"I'm not expecting you to forgive me right now, fuck I'll be lucky if you ever forgive me at all, but I'm not going anywhere, Sweetheart. I'm going to stay here and make sure your taken care of. I came so fucking close to losing you today. Our lives are short. We probably will never live to see 60. I only probably got 10 years left if I'm lucky."

You laid there staring at his hand on yours. You didn't pull away this time. When you looked up at him again to your surprise he had real tears falling down his God-like face. It made your heart seize up in your chest in spite of you.

"Please Y/N, say something. I can't take the silence anymore. " 

You knew he was telling the truth. The silence was getting pretty cruel at this point.

"I don't know what to say to you, Dean. You really, really hurt me."

You hated how weak your voice sounded. You were a hunter. Right now though you felt like a child.

He sat there with his head down. He looked tired and defeated, just like you felt.

After a few minutes, he got up and nodded his head. Looking like he'd had his heart ripped out and stomped on himself. Heading for the door with his head down.

"Where are you going?" you ask before you could stop yourself.

"You don't want me here," he said, not turning around, talking to his feet. "You got your own room because I've been such an ass, and you wanted to get away from me... I made you hate me."

Sitting up you looked at the man that was so strong he carried everyone, the man that never showed weakness, he looked so weak right now., so done. It made you realize even though he was always trying to carry everyone else's problems, no one ever tried to help him carry his.

Maybe he was wasn't lying just to make you feel better, maybe he was telling the truth.

"Stay," you half-whispered, but he heard you, turning slowly to look at you.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure Dean, stay..."

He had a lot of making up to do, but maybe it was best to start at the beginning. Relationships are a give and take thing. If one of you doesn't give this was never going to work. He just gave. That couldn't have been easy for him. If you were going to not lose this chance you where going to have to take his apology.

Dean came back over to the bed cautiously. Sitting down on the edge before you pulled the covers up, signaling him to slip underneath with you. Which he did slowly.

"You know it's going to take me a very long time to fully forgive you, Dean," you tell him as you snuggle into his side. His strong arms wrapping around you immediately, pulling you into him.

"I know, I'm so, so, so sorry."

Putting your hand over his chest where you could feel his heart beating you take a deep breath. Breathing in a scent that was uniquely Dean. Gunpowder, whiskey, and his cologne.

Things weren't going to be easy for the two of you, but you had to start somewhere, and here in his arms felt like a pretty good place.

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Tag List:

@deanwanddamons​  @imabitch4jensen​  @rvgrsbrns​  @bi-danvers0​

[lovelyparkers]

hard as nails (2)

summary: the second and final part to hard as nails! my 50k special!!! warnings: VIOLENCE!, a gross teenager, angst and fluff, um spiciness and swearing 2.5k words

peter parker left school that day with a hunch. he thought of the note, the knowledge that you attended the same school, the flirting, your voice...

and especially those red nails.

the same nails that belonged to you. the same ones that would pin his wrists down in several different places during fights. the same ones that stroked his cheek. it had to be you i mean, he had chills along with his spider sense. he knew it was you. and it kinda sucked. he liked you in school. he thought you were so cute and smart and sweet. and in the hero vs villain world? he thought you were mysterious and funny and...maybe a little sexy. your villain name, violet, flowed off his tongue so nicely and your hair when it blew in the wind on rooftops and your eyes that glistened under the moonlight. your signature red nails that could kill (my gosh) and your fucking party city mask.

it was y/n. it was you.

he bolted down the busy sidewalks of queens and changed into his spidey suit. his main and only focus was to track you down and find out what the fuck is going on. the only criminal he would catch tonight was you, no matter what.

you usually showed up in peter's path at some point every night, sharing some banter and flirting and the occasional play fight. but today was different. he couldn't find you. and sure it was new york but still, you always showed up and he started to worry. he swung around and around the proximity of queens several times for fun and on the lookout for you for hours.

meanwhile, you were at home doing some homework. sitting on your bed in your empty apartment writing down some notes and studying for tests. point being, you were trying to keep your mind off of daria at all costs even though she would probably find you and kill you if you didn't bring her peter. but you wanted to have a relaxing evening off your feet. maybe you would go out, maybe, you doubt it.

but you got bored, figured you'd head out on the town, steal some cash, buy yourself some treats before you get brutally murdered by a frightening middle aged woman. your victim was a kid from your school, total idiot who lived in your neighborhood and still went to midtown. you walked behind him on the sidewalk for awhile before grabbing his backpack and pulling him back into your arms.

"hey kid."

"oh my god," the kid hyperventilated, "you're that- you're that girl."

"mhm yeah i am. now give me your wallet and we won't have any trouble sweetie."

"okay," he stuttered our before reaching into his bag to pull out a wallet and hand it to you.

you dumped the contents onto the sidewalk, one hand still holding him in your grip. you fished through the items. there was loose change, a few twenty dollar bills, school id and a condom.

you held it up in his face, "really? you're that guy? you disgust me."

"i'm sorry!" he yelled.

"okay move along and get a life buddy."

you pushed him out of your path and headed down the street to a corner store which sold the greasiest funnel cake on planet earth that seemed to always be opened. you got the biggest order topped with literally everything they had and tossed a twenty on the counter pocketing the rest of your, well that kid's, cash.

you held your foam take out box filled with an enormous funnel cake and happily climbed you way up the fire escape to the nearest building. you were a little shocked you hadn't seen peter yet tonight but hey, maybe you scared him off. you sat down and enjoyed your funnel cake and watched the sunset over queens. what a nice night to be murdered.

you could still give peter up and save your own life but, deep down you couldn't. you had so much fun with him over the time you've been here and he never turned you in. he never hurt you. and you made a promise to him. he knew who you really were, a damaged kid who got caught up in the wrong crowd. but you were a shit head and peter was a hero. you stole stuff and he stopped the people who stole stuff. you couldn't risk his life for your own actions. it wasn't fair, and you realized that. now, it was time to be the good guy.

"violet," peter said, grunting as he hit the rooftop.

you turned your head to face him, "oh hey babe, want some funnel cake? i stole it sorta."

"no, i don't want stolen funnel cake. i wanna talk."

"about what," you said with a full mouth.

"about you."

"hey dude, you do this every night! i'm a bad person about to get beat and i'm trying to have a wonderful last meal."

"i'm not gonna beat you up."

"not what i meant."

"why?"

"why what?"

"why are you doing this? why are you protecting me?"

you paused, chewing and some powdered sugar fell on your leather pants, "because i know you're a good person. and i'm a shit head. and i realize that now. i just- i don't know if i can stop but anyways it will all be over tonight."

"what are you talking about," peter asked ripping off his mask.

you still faced away from him, eating, "she's gonna kill me."

"who?"

"daria. my mentor as one might say. she's gonna kill me since i didn't turn you in."

"i'm sorry what?"

"daria—"

"no i heard you just what the hell y/n, do you—" peter realized his mistake and covered his mouth with his gloved hands.

you groaned and chucked the rest of your funnel cake off the roof, "damn it man! how the fuck do you know?"

peter pulled his hands away, "the red nail polish, you should really be more careful."

you smirked, impressed, "says you."

"i'm learning," he said walking closer to you, "now whats this about getting killed."

you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in close to his face, "it doesn't concern you babe."

"seems like it does," he began, resting his hands on your waist, "since it's either me or you."

"don't worry, i'm doing you a favor," you laughed.

"yeah, that's your life. i'm not asking you to do this."

you stroked his hair, "i know. but i'm gonna."

"stop. i'll help you."

"no no no. look. i'll be at that run down place of 75th street. in two hours come and pick up my body. daria will be gone by then."

"violet- i mean, y/n, stop. i'm gonna help you."

"i don't need you to save me, hero. people need you more than they need me."

you squeezed yourself out of his arms and headed to the edge. you were about to get down to head to daria's when peter shot you with a web and pulled you toward him.

"woah there spidey, tying me up already? who know you were so kinky."

peter blushed, "listen to me. y/n i need you. i need you so so bad. you keep me grounded, i'm serious. you're a real pain in the ass sometimes but i love it. you're funny. and really really sexy might i add."

"ooh look who's flirting now."

"shut up," he laughed, "but i really need you. i'm not gonna let some middle aged woman kill you. that's not how you should go. i wanna get to know you. i can tell you don't like being a 'shit head' as you called it and i'll help you. i'll show you how to use your powers for good. we can be partners."

you smiled, thinking for a second, "i appreciate the offer but, you should just let me go."

"well these webs take two hours to dissolve."

"damn can you even last that long?"

"stop," he blushed, "i'm serious. i'm gonna help you. if you'll let me?"

you looked into his brown eyes filled with hope and slowly nodded, "okay."

"okay."

you both stood there on the roof, "so now what?"

"um we wait till my webs dissolve off you?"

"so what are you gonna do with me for the next two hours?" you smirked.

peter laughed, still blushing, "see this is what i'm talking about, a pain in the ass."

"but you love it," you laughed.

he did.

—————————

two hours later you were able to pull the webs off with the aid of peter. during those two hours you talked about all sorts of things. and you really wanted to change. you wanted to be good. and you devised a plan to take out daria.

peter swung the two of you over to daria's place and of course being you, you made several cheeky remarks which made peter almost drop you one or six times.

when you arrived, your body was almost shaking. you were actually terrified. peter put a hand on your back to calm you down and it helped a little.

"okay y/n are you ready? you go in first then i go in then we both kick her ass."

you nodded slowly.

"spidey?"

"violet?"

you grabbed his cheeks in both your hands and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, "see you on the other side."

you ran off, entering daria's apartment, leaving a blushing peter behind.

"holy shit."

you quietly entered daria's kitchen and called out for her.

peter came up to stand just outside the door to listen and be ready. he didn't doubt you, he just wanted to protect you. and goddamn he wanted to kiss you again.

"daria?" you asked into the empty kitchen.

"you're late," she said, "where is he?"

you said nothing.

"that's what i thought. i knew you could never do it deep down you bitch. it's almost midnight and no spider-man. you know what i said. you're going to suffer."

"what's your deal with him anyways?" you asked, steering away from the plan, "you're too lazy and fucking stupid to do anything yourself so you make me do dirty work. and you want me to rid off an innocent hero. fuck you."

shit. peter thought. this was gonna get real fighty real fast. but he nodded, it was kinda hot hearing you curse.

"don't play with me sweetheart, i protect you."

"i can protect myself. i'm done with you."

daria walked forward to you and slapped you across the face and kneed you in the stomach. you grabbed the side of your face.

"jesus what is it with you and slapping me?"

once peter heard the smack and busted right in the door and kicked daria square in the stomach. he ran to you in the kitchen to help you up.

"you okay?"

"yeah i will be babe, thanks."

daria got back up and tried the punch peter behind him but you swept her legs out causing her to pummel to the ground. she was too easy to beat. peter webbed her feet to the ground. and her hands together.

"oh c'mon taser web this bitch."

"no!"

you scoffed and walked to her side, "you're too easy to beat."

"so what, you're the good guy now?" she spat.

you looked to peter then back to daria, "yeah maybe. maybe i am."

then you pulled back your own hand and slapped her in the face.

"that's what you get bitch! you're done!"

peter grabbed your waist to prevent you from doing anything else and carried you out to the parking lot. he also called the police to get rid of that horrid woman.

"so now what?" peter asked.

"go to a rooftop? we have lots to talk about."

"you got it violet," peter winked, grabbing you again and webbing around to find a nice desolate roof.

he gently placed you down and sat next to you, taking off his mask.

"so," peter began, "what's up?"

"i'm sorry i kissed you."

"don't be. i...i liked it."

"really?"

"yeah. really. i like you, and not just violet, i like y/n, i like all of you."

you smiled, "i like you peter spider-man parker."

"good," he smiled.

there was a small moment of silence, both of you smiling over each other. and then you leaned into his side and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in for a passionate, well deserved kiss. it was long lasting and felt so good until peter pushed back your shoulder.

"so if i'm gonna teach you how to be good," he said licking his lips, "you have to know that i'm in charge."

"oh are you now, pretty boy?"

"mhm. now take off that mask."

you obliged, taking off your party city mask and throwing it on the roof, "there, how do i look?"

"hot as hell, babe."

"that's my thing," you reprimanded.

"hmmm i don't know."

you quickly swung a leg over peter's hips, straddling him tightly, and pushed on his chest till his back hit the roof and once again pinned his wrists down.

"babe, i think we all know who's in charge here," you whispered. peter left out a soft breath with his eyes closed, feeling you on top of him.

peter quickly brought his legs up and out pulling you up and then turning you so now your back was on the roof and he was straddling your waist.

"do we?" he asked, "because wow..."

he leaned in so close to your face that his messy brown curls were toxic hung your forehead.

"...you look even prettier underneath me."

you smirked, biting your lip, "you know, you don't look so bad on top. but if you're gonna teach me to be good, i'm gonna teach you to be bad."

"what no! i'm a hero!"

"no," you laughed, "like...dirty stuff."

"oh," he blushed.

"i can teach you so many things."

"can you now?"

"oh i sure can. i can show you a whole lot you've never seen before," you said.

peter's breath started to quicken and he just wanted to get at you right there.

"and you know, we're both pretty flexible," you joked.

"oh man y/n. you're gonna be the death of me."

it was his turn to kiss you. his lips moved against yours in a fiery passion, whilst still having you pinned down. it was the kiss of your dreams. he would groan into your lips every so often causing you to melt and when you hit his lip and just about lost it, letting go of your wrists and you took over the kiss.

who knew, a hero and an ex villain making out would ever be a thing?