#i had to deal with drunk people like this 4 times in my life and i'll never do this again

[marcusrobertobaq]

Connor is so damn respectful in Russian Roulette, man. Really, he's respectful af cuz if I saw a mf in this:

I would've started laughing like a maniac and made a bunch of jokes then "c'mon, bro. We're late". Man, just check it out how do i see this scene:

Hank be like "look player, that's the shirt u chose" *grins* *turn 360º*

And Connor just grins back in respect like "finally, now let's go" 🤣

Man, this whole chapter is so comic relief.

No joke, i think my dad got a bunch of photos from the 70s and early 80s with this type of shirt - including the alcohol smell. Connor is lucky he can't smell like us cuz the moment Hank open his mouth shit would get kinda fucked up xD

[modernmutiny]

God I have an entire week off for the first time in my adult life so obviously I'm taking full advantage and drank an entire bottle of pink Whitney bc in an idiot and i fucking forgot how heavy vodka makes my teeth feel and that's really cramping my style >:(

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 5

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, Claustrophobia, homophobia mention

Parts;

Part1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

“Why the fuck is Regina in your room? Why are you even speaking to her? Dude! Fucking answer me!”

Janis’s voice is so loud down the tiny phone speaker that it makes it buzz like an annoying little mosquito.

You scowl and resist the creeping urge to hang up, and throw your phone far far away, maybe off a cliff. You click the volume down and try and muffle the sound of Janis ranting down the speaker by shoving the receiver deep into your pocket, but it’s too late.

Regina has already left. Her bedsheets are left thrown back and crumpled, she usually fixes the blankets back to perfection so she clearly left in a hurry.

You grab your jacket with a huff and stomp outside the cabin to stand in your usual smoking spot and light a much needed cigarette before putting the phone up to you ear.

Janis is still yelling, finishing a sentence you didn’t hear the start of. Some accusation about alliances with the enemy.

“Fucking hell, Janis! It’s not that big of a deal!” You finally snap.

The phone goes silent. It’s a welcome break but you know she’ll start up again.

“Yeah sure, my best friend suddenly being pals with Regina George, not a big deal.” She snarks. “Can I just remind you, that bitch nearly ruined my life! Is that why you’re ignoring my calls? Because you’re too busy becoming plastic?”

You sigh. “It’s not like that.”

That’s true. You haven’t been morphed into some sort of Barbie doll all of a sudden just because you spent some time with Regina. To be truthful, you realise Regina isn’t really like that either. She’s a little messy, she’s flawed, but you think she’s more perfect like that. Your face softens slightly at the memory of yesterday, her mascara dripping down her cheeks with a big grin plastered on her face. She wears a fake mask to protect anyone from seeing her real personality. You get it. It’s easier to take a rejection when you haven’t really shown your true identity.

Your heart aches to defend her. To tell Janis to back off, but you can’t. She wouldn’t understand.

“Look, she got roomed with me because she got drunk with Gretchen and Karen on the first night so the teachers wanted to split them up.” You explain as calmly as you can while your blood boils beneath the surface.

“So why didn’t you think to mention this when I called last?” She snaps back. She’s caught you there.

“Because I knew you’d go all revenge-crazed and pissed off like this!” You shout back. You hear Janis scoff.

“Whatever, I don’t give a shit about Regina. She literally means nothing to me! Less than nothing, I just want to see that bitch suffer-“

“Then why can’t you stop talking about her!” As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.

“Fuck you, man.” She doesn’t even give you a second before hanging up.

You take a long draw of the cigarette that’s spent most of its time burning away between your fingers. You felt guilty about arguing with Janis, she’d been your best friend since the start of high school, and you could still see the pain that Regina had caused was still playing on her. You didn’t know the full details but you knew that Regina had outed her in a cruel way and made her out to be obsessed just so she could be with a boy. But that was a while ago, people can change.

So why hadn’t you been able to tell her that you liked girls when she hinted at it? You couldn’t even trust her fully.

You couldn’t help your mind wandering to where Regina might be. That seems to be all you can think about recently. Regina. You never fell for her Queen Bee attitude, high school drama was boring to you, you’d rather steer clear of it. But this new, playful, carefree side to her? You couldn’t get enough of.

She’s probably snuck off to meet Gretchen and Karen. You were surprised that she’d actually followed rules for once and not gone to meet them yet. Was it because you had been there with her instead? She said last night that she had enjoyed hanging out with you.

How much of the phone call had she heard before she left?

You light another cigarette. It’s not like you to chain smoke like this but you can’t help it when you’re stressed. The smoke whirls out in front of you, lines of wispy grey entangle and then disappear in-front of your eyes.

You head back inside the cabin when you’re done. Regina still isn’t back.

You lift your bedsheets ready to try unsuccessfully to get some sort of rest and find tiny pieces of paper, shredded on your mattress. It’s the drawing Regina took.

She clearly heard more than she was meant to.

You brush it onto the floor, not bothering to collect the tiny scraps, that felt more like little broken pieces of your soul.

When you finally close your eyes you’re back in the clearing. This time you don’t feel afraid and you automatically start scanning the shadows between the trees. A pair of blue eyes catch yours, as usual, but as soon as you take a step forward,the big cat slinks back into the shadows and disappears.

When you wake up, Regina still isn’t back. Your stomach sinks. She probably won’t want to speak to you ever again, you won’t even get a chance to explain.

You know you have to be up and ready in 20 minutes but you don’t want to get out of bed, or risk bumping into Regina.

It’s pretty hot outside and you’re not sure what the activity will be today so you put on a black tank and some loose khaki trousers. Regina must have been back when you were asleep because her bed is made and her cupboard door is left open.

When you go over to the campfire pit, she is already there. She’s standing around with the usual two girls but she’s also next to Shane Oman.

That makes you nauseous. He’s grinning and so obviously checking Regina out.

She starts running her hand up and down his bicep and over his chest, giggling and leaning into him. He’s loving it and has a hand around her waist. You turn around so you don’t have to look at whatever show they’re putting on.

It feels like she’s doing it just to spite you.

Seeing her that close to him makes your stomach knot with jealousy, it shouldn’t, it’s not like you’re together.

“Okay everyone listen up! Today and tomorrow are the last days of camp, so you will be hiking and setting up your own camp for tonight. This will combine all of the skills you have learnt this week!” There’s a dull chatter of excitement as maps are passed around and people start getting into groups.

You secretly hoped you’d be paired in cabin groups so Regina might actually hear you out and stop being so pissed off. It would get her away from Shane too.

Much to your annoyance, you’re told you have to pair up with Regina, Gretchen, Karen and Shane because apparently it’s unsafe to go alone.

You’d actually rather be eaten by a bear.

Each group is given a tent, you’re given two, the teachers tell you Shane has to stay in one separately but you know that won’t happen. You’re hoping you can just keep that tent for yourself. You’re also given other supplies like cooking utensils, scissors, a mallet, rope etc.

Shane offers to carry both tents in a pitiful attempt to seem strong and manly. Regina plays straight into it and makes a big deal out of grabbing Shane’s hand and feeling his arms.

It makes you roll your eyes. You’re sure you see the corners of Regina’s lips curve in a smirk.

You end up carrying one of the tents anyway, it’s pretty heavy but at least it gives you an excuse to stay at the back of the group, it’s not like you’ll have anything to talk to them about.

Regina walks in-front of you with Karen and Gretchen on one side, and Shane on the other. You’re pretty sure everyone has forgotten your existence, apart from Regina perhaps.

She’s wearing a black crop top and baby pink mini skirt, it makes being behind the group kind of worth it.

After about 2 hours you get to a dead end, there’s a large rock ledge with a few crude dips for you to put your hands and feet to climb up. There are thick shrubs either side to stop anyone going around. This must be what they meant by testing the skills you’d learnt.

Regina goes up first, Shane is standing almost directly underneath her and is grinning to himself. It makes your stomach turn. She climbs up easily, and stands with her arms folded impatiently when she gets to the top.

Shane goes up next, again making a big deal of being so manly, he practically jumps from one step to re other up the ledge. It makes you cringe. He looks more like an ape.

Regina catches your expression and as soon as he’s up she’s all over him again. Is this some sort of punishment? But why would she be trying to make you jealous that way?

You go up last. It’s not too high so you’re not really afraid.

“Don’t fall, loser.” Regina spits and the whole group burst out laughing.

It stings but you ignore it and carry on walking behind them once you reach the top. Whatever she’s trying to do, to get under your skin, to piss you off, you’re not going to give her the satisfaction.

You notice Shane’s hand sneak down from her waist towards her ass and Regina visibly stiffens and moves away slightly.

Soon enough you come to a small opening in the rocks, must be the second challenge. Even from behind you see Regina tense up. It’s just a narrow crawl space that likely pops out quickly on the other side. There’s a wall of rock that seems impossible to climb that looks to go on for a while either side.

Shane goes through first, followed by Gretchen and Karen.

“I’m not fucking doing that.” Regina huffs once it’s just the two of you, raising her hands. “I’ll walk around.”

“It looks like you’ll be walking for a while.” You try and reason, but she’s already started walking.

“I’ll come with you.” You’re not sure why you offer. The suns setting slightly and you don’t like the idea of Regina going alone. Even if it is just a few minutes to walk around the obstacle.

You follow behind in silence as she walks along the rock wall, thinking about all the things you wish you could say. I’m sorry about what Janis said, I don’t agree with her. I like hanging out with you, I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out.

You want to reach out and take her hand like she was doing with Shane, especially since now you know how soft she is.

You want to gently cup her face and kiss her, feel her soft lips and be intoxicated by her warm vanilla scent. You want to ask her on a date, maybe go to the movies, take her for a nice dinner, kiss her on the front porch.

All the things she’s probably done, or will do with Shane.

It feels like you’re walking for ages, it’s quite a lot darker than when you started. Regina keeps a quick pace ahead of you. Her face fixed in a permanent scowl.

You finally turn the corner and see the entrance to the small cave.

Nobody is there, they’ve left. How long did it even take you to walk round anyway?

“What the FUCK.” She screams. It’s so loud you swear you see birds scattering off their branches. “What bitches!”

She growls and flops down, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. You can see a glimmer of hurt and confusion in her eyes.

“It’s getting dark. We have one of the tents , we should set up some kind of camp.” You say, dropping the tent bag on the floor.

“Whatever. I’m not helping though.” She huffs. You don’t bother arguing, you can tell she’s hurt and you don’t want to make things worse.

You unzip the tent bag and start pulling out poles. There are no instructions and all of the poles look identical. You start arranging them in a way that sort of resembles a tent, you bend the long metal pole and try to force it into a fabric sleeve of the tent material, you think it’s secure and let go but it pings back up with such a force that the whole structure jumps. You leap back, the metal projectile misses your face by millimetres.

Regina’s watching you with an amused expression. It makes you blush. At least she’s in a better mood.

After about an hour of wrestling with tent fabric and poles, you’ve made a structure. You’re not sure if you can call it a tent, or if it’ll stay up but it provides some cover.

As night draws close it gets significantly colder so you collect some wood and dry grass for a small fire. Luckily you always carry your lighter so it was simple enough to start. Both you and Regina sit opposite sides of the fire, on the floor, the smoke isn’t as thick as the silence between you.

You dig around in your bag, hoping that maybe you packed some supplies from the bag the teachers gave you. The others must have most of the food and cooking equipment.

You did pack one thing

Marshmallows.

You hold the bag up to Regina who giggles and finds two thin sticks for you to roast them on over the fire. Neither of you speak still as you hold the stick, turning it every now and then.

You remember one other thing you packed secretly in your bag, you rifle through again and pull out a small hip flask of vodka and take a swig. With no mixer, the liquid burns all the way down to your stomach, you offer it to Regina who grimaces but takes the flask.

You sit for a while, toasting Marshmallows and passing the hip flask back and forth before one of you is buzzed enough to speak.

“You and Shane make a good couple.” You’re not sure why you even say it, you don’t think that at all. Regina seems tense around him and you’re pretty sure he’s only after one thing.

“I know.” She responds flatly. It’s unconvincing.

You swallow another dreadful mouthful of vodka. It feels like willingly swallowing paint thinner.

“Why did you screw over Janis?”

Her brows furrow, she reaches for the flask and takes a drink. That was definitely the wrong thing to say but the vodka makes words tumble out before your brain has a chance to screen them.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I guess you think I’m a bad person.” She doesn’t meet your gaze and her tone sounds defeated and a little ashamed.

“ I don’t.” You say quickly. “You must have had a reason.”

“Yeah… I did.” She sighs.

You decide not to push it any further.

“Are you looking forward to camp being over?” You decide to try and divert the conversation.

“Not really, there’s not as much pressure here to perform. I don’t like being a bitch you know, it’s just school, it’s survival of the fittest.” She starts “Out here I feel free. I actually miss middle school, I wish I never went to that party, or kissed Janis. I’m sick of everyone thinking I’m fake, nobody treats me like an actual person.”

She looks up at the night sky, a small tear running down her cheek, catching the moonlight which makes it look like a diamond.

“Being with you has felt free.”

Your heart skips a beat. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol but you get the courage to go and sit next to her. You gently put your arm around her shoulders and she relaxes into you.

You fit together like a puzzle.

You look up and scan the stars with your eyes and find what you’re looking for. You point up to 3 stars in a row.

“There’s Orion’s Belt. Those 3 stars are several times bigger than the sun, and they burn tens of thousands of times brighter.”

Her gaze falls to where you’re pointing.

“It kind of reminds me of you, Karen and Gretchen.” Regina laughs at this. “You shine brighter than anyone else at the school. I know what you mean about just trying to survive, just try not to burn so bright you burn out. You’re perfect enough as you are.”

She sighs, her hand is on your lap now and you struggle to concentrate on the stars.

“And that one sort of looks like a lion” You point up again, Orion’s Belt is the only one you recognise. Luckily this makes her giggle more.

She lifts her head at the same time you turn. She’s so close you can see the stars reflecting in her eyes. In this moment you realise you have two options.

A look of hesitation crosses her face and she starts to pull away.

You make a sudden, probably stupid decision.

As soon as your lips meet you see stars explode behind your eyelids. Her lips are just as soft as you imagined, it takes a second before she’s kissing you back. Her hands reach up and tangle in your hair. It’s gentle and rough all at the same

You pull away. “ I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“

She cuts you off with another quick, soft kiss.

“I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.” She says, standing and walking over to the tent which is shockingly still standing.

You’re left, sitting on the ground next to the now dwindling fire, kept warm by the redness in your cheeks. You pull out a cigarette and light it on the smouldering fire.

The star lion in the sky beams down at you.

[gudfornuthin]

Unexpected Comfort

Season 4!Diego x fem!reader, (past) Five x reader

! SPOILERS AHEAD !

! MINORS DNI !

Summary: after finding out the news about Lila and Five’s relationship, Y/N needs to get away from it all. Who knew she’d find comfort in the one other person broken too?

Word count: 2.65k words

A/N: ayooo. I wanna thank everyone for the support I received from my Five fanfic, it means the world to me that people read and enjoy my writing. I’m definitely thinking about ideas for a part 2, and I also have some requests I need to complete, but for now this lil thing popped into my head and I had to make it. My sweet Diego deserved so much more. There’s fluff, there’s angst, there’s a lil bit of smut (I’m trying to get better at writing that lol) so I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

Those were the words that came out of Five’s mouth before Y/N stormed out of the house, leaving behind the shocked faces of the Hargreeves siblings.

Five had cheated on her. With Lila. Diego’s wife, the mother of his children. She felt like throwing up. They’d created a life together, seeming to forget all about the life they had here, in the real world. Five tried explaining how a few hours to her had been years for him and Lila, but Y/N wasn’t having it. She couldn’t imagine giving up on a relationship she’d spent so long working on, like it meant nothing at all. At least they weren’t married with kids. She doesn’t want to think about how much this is killing Diego.

Having left the house, ignoring the calls from the family, Y/N continued walking for what seemed like hours. She wasn’t familiar with this side of town, and the dark streets all blended together. Had she already gone this way? Was there a bus stop she could seek shelter under for the time being? The night was getting colder and she was finding it hard to catch her breath, the tears still flowing. She knew she couldn’t continue on for much longer.

After walking a few more blocks, Y/N finally spots a bar/diner, the lights still on inside. Better than nothing, she thinks, as she slowly makes her way towards it, in desperate need of a drink.

The diner is quiet, only a few patrons scattered around, either drunk or on the verge of passing out. The bar tender nods in acknowledgment when Y/N sits on one of the bar stools, asking what she wants.

“I’ll just have a beer.”

The bar tender rolls his eyes. “What kinda beer?”

Y/N shrugs. “The cheapest one you’ve got.”

He wonders off to sort out her order, as she rests her head in the palms of her hands, closing her eyes and trying not to sob like a baby. The pain in her chest still lingers, as she can’t escape the images of Five and Lila, and the life they had made together. The life that should’ve been hers. With everything going on, she’d almost forgotten about the world ending, again. But that was surprisingly the least of her worries at the moment. She just wanted to scream, and punch and kick anything that got in her way. She needed a cigarette. And she doesn’t even smoke.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

A voice sounds off to the side of Y/N, as she slowly opens her eyes. A beer bottle stands in front of her, and she turns to her left, spotting Diego in the seat next to hers. He looks worse for wear. Red eyes, prominent frown lines, and a pouty lip.

“You look like a kicked puppy,” Y/N mumbles, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Diego replies in a gruff voice, grabbing for her beer and taking a swig.

The pair go quiet, listening to the soft tune playing through the overhead speakers, dwelling in their own thoughts. The two of them had never exactly been close. Since Y/N joined the family she’d always gravitated more towards Klaus and Alison. Frankly, she didn’t understand why Diego was here with her. Maybe because they were both dealing with the same situation, with both their partners being the main focal point. Or maybe he was just in desperate need for a drink too, as shown when he downs the rest of the bottle. Y/N alerts the bar tender, putting up two fingers to ask for a second round. Hopefully she can actually have some this time.

“Was I a bad husband?” Diego finally speaks up, breaking the somewhat awkward silence.

Y/N glances his way, unsure of how to respond.

She clears her throat. “I dunno if I’m the right person to answer that,” she scratches at the label on the beer bottle. “But from what I saw, you were pretty good at it.”

He doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “And you’re also a good dad. I can’t imagine how hard it was, going from one apocalypse to another, to just living a normal life. Pretending none of it ever happened. You didn’t let that get in the way of taking care of your kids. They know you’re a good dad.”

She notices the tears forming in Diego’s eyes and looks away, knowing he wouldn’t want others to see him cry. She sips her drink, the burning sensation hitting the back of her throat.

“For what it’s worth,” Diego starts, “you’re not a bad girlfriend.”

“I never thought I was,” Y/N bites back, her tone harsher than she wanted it to be. “But what are you supposed to think when the love of your life admits to having an affair?” She laughs bitterly. “With his fucking sister in law!”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here,” Diego says, rubbing incessantly at his eyes. “Just tryna make you feel better.”

“Well you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

They bask in silence again, both too stubborn to apologise for snapping at each other. They know neither of them are in the wrong. But the wounds are still fresh, and it doesn’t seem like they’ll heal anytime soon.

Almost an hour passes, along with 9 or 10 bottles of beer between them, when the bartender finally tells them it’s closing time. They both get out of their seats, leaving the bar and standing awkwardly outside in the cold, Y/N shivering having left the house without a coat.

“You cold?” Diego dumbly asks.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Well done, Sherlock.”

Diego looks as if he’s about to say something in retort, but chooses not to. Instead, he silently slips off his jacket, handing it over to her, insisting she takes it before she can refuse. She does so, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’. They continue standing outside the bar, watching the occasional car drive past, lighting them up every so often.

“I can’t go back there,” Y/N says. “Not yet anyways.”

It was a stupid thing to think that this could all be avoided. She’d eventually have to face Five properly, let him explain fully what happened during that time he was away. But she couldn’t. She doesn’t want an explanation, or an excuse. She just wants it erased from her memory. To forget about it all. To forget about Five.

Diego puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood to figure out that shit show tonight.”

He pauses for a beat, then briefly glances at Y/N. “There’s a motel not too far from here. We can grab a couple of rooms, take the time to get some rest, and figure all this out tomorrow.”

She doesn’t say anything, simply nodding in agreement, and following Diego to their accommodation for the night.

***

The pair arrive at the dingy looking motel, booking two rooms next to each other, and muttering quick goodnights. Y/N can feel the exhaustion taking over, as she sits down on the bed, and yet the thought of falling asleep makes her anxious. She can’t remember the last time she went to bed alone. It was always Five right by her side, comforting her if she had any nightmares. Which had become more and more frequent the past few weeks.

She tries distracting herself by turning on the tv, flicking through empty channels and purposely avoiding the news. She takes a shower, scrubbing off the physical and metaphorical grime. It helps her feel slightly better, but still she’s wide awake. She walks laps around the room, which isn’t much considering the bed takes up most of the space. And yet she still can’t sleep.

Her mind wanders to the man in the room next to hers. Is Diego having the same issues as she is? Or has he completely worn himself out to the point of passing out for the next several hours. Is it too forward if she goes over there and asks to stay with him for the night? He could end up giving her a weird look and slamming the door in her face. Or he could see a woman, sad and distressed, and know she’s just in need of someone to comfort her. The risk is worth the reward.

Y/N leaves her room, stumbling slightly over her own feet, the alcohol starting to take effect. She steadies herself, standing in front of Diego’s door and knocking. It takes a moment, but he finally opens, shirtless and hair a mess.

“What’s up?” He says, his voice gruff.

Standing in front of him now, Y/N can’t help but feel stupid. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her problems right now, not when he’s still trying to figure out his own. The only thing on Diego’s mind is most likely Lila, and getting some much needed rest. This was a bad idea.

“Uh,” she shakes her head. “It’s nothing, no. I shouldn’t have disturbed you, I’m sorry.”

She begins to walk away, trying not to fall over, until Diego’s voice calls her name. She turns, seeing him standing half way out of his room, a sad expression on his face.

“Neither of us really wanna be alone right now,” he says, motioning slightly for her to follow him through the door.

She waits a second, unsure if this was the best idea. Now feeling as if they were both about to cross a barrier that neither of them could walk back through.

Taking the plunge, Y/N silently follows Diego into his room, closing the door behind her. She suddenly felt nervous, unsure as to why. Diego is already back in bed, getting comfortable under the covers, ready for a much needed sleep. Y/N looks at the bed, then towards the small couch, not knowing which one she’s welcome on.

“Diego…”

“It’s fine,” he rolls over, not looking at her. “You can build a pillow wall if it’ll make you feel better.”

Y/N nods, not wanting to admit how glad she was that she could sleep next to Diego tonight. She’d feel this way about anyone at the moment, right? It’s got nothing specifically to do with him. Her mind is racing, as she climbs into bed, hoping to fall into a deep slumber as quick as. She doesn’t build a pillow wall.

***

Barely an hour passes before Y/N is woken up suddenly by a sound. She sits up in bed, eyes bleary and watery, looking around the room with squinting eyes. The bathroom light is on, shining through the cracks, and Diego is no longer beside her.

She hears the sound again, a soft whimper, barely audible. It’s coming from the bathroom, and she can already guess who it is. She slowly scoots out of bed, tiptoeing on unsteady feet towards the door, knocking slightly. No answer. And the noise has stopped.

She knocks again, trying the door handle at the same time. It budges, as she gradually pulls it open. The sight was heartbreaking. Diego sits in a curled up ball in the corner, covering his face, and desperately trying to stop his heavy breathing. He doesn’t acknowledge Y/N’s presence, as she moves over to him, crouching down. She gently grabs his hands, pulling them away to see his red, tear stained face.

“I’ve lost everything,” he whispers, breaking Y/N’s heart more than it already was. “I feel like my life’s over.”

Y/N strokes his hands, trying her best to soothe him in anyway that might work.

“I have no purpose without her,” he continues. “I try saving the world, but I couldn’t save the one thing that matters the most to me. I’m useless.”

“That is not true,” Y/N finally replies, hating these thoughts running through Diego’s mind. “Her actions are not a reflection on you.”

Diego begins to protest, but Y/N quickly shuts him down. “I know how much you care. Sometimes I think you care a little too much. But that just proves how good of a husband and father you were. You did nothing wrong. It’s all on her. And Five.”

She chokes out the last part, almost forgetting about her own problems. They’re both going through this, together.

Y/N doesn’t even realise she’s now crying too, holding her hand up to her mouth to muffle the sound of her sobs. Diego reaches out, pulling her into a bone crushing hug, the pair needing comfort from each other more than anything.

She moves her head back slightly, kissing Diego on the forehead, then the cheek, then hesitating at his lips. Her mind feels fuzzy, as the alcohol in her system still lingers, jumping between the pros and cons of what she’s about to do. Diego makes the decision for her.

The kiss is soft at first, his moustache tickling her upper lip, the sensation of it weird but not unpleasant. She wraps her arms around his neck as he puts his hands on both sides of her face, deepening it into a full blown make out session. Y/N opens her mouth, allowing Diego to slip his tongue in, eliciting a quiet moan from her.

Their current position is uncomfortable, as Diego sits pressed up against the sink with Y/N crouched down in front of him. He pushes her back slightly, so they can both stand, never stopping the kiss. The room feels hot, as they walk out of the bathroom and aim for the bed, Diego sitting down on the edge with Y/N straddling his lap. She quickly removes her top and bra, drawing the man’s attention to her breasts. He moves away from her lips, traveling down until he’s eye level with her chest. He takes one in his mouth, sucking harshly, while his hand massages the other.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N sighs, throwing her head back.

She grabs his hair, pulling a fistful of it, forcing Diego to suck harder. She moves her hips back and forth on his crotch, desperately wanting to get out of the rest of her clothes.

As if reading her mind, Diego pulls back, moving them both higher up the bed, quickly removing his pants as Y/N does the same. Now completely nude, the pair become a sweaty mess of body and limbs, wrapping themselves around each other, and making sounds the other occupants in the motel can definitely hear.

Diego’s thrusts are meticulous, as he hooks one of his arms under her leg, pushing in and out, knowing all the right places to make Y/N scream out in ecstasy. He kisses her lips, her neck, her chest and her breasts, not wanting to leave out any part of her. He makes her feel wanted, admired, needed. Like he can’t breathe without her. It feels good. They carry on into the night, and early morning, for a moment all their problems don’t exist anymore.

***

Y/N wakes up first. Her head is pounding, her mouth is dry, and there’s a dull ache between her legs. She grumbles, the memories of last night rushing back to her in an instant. Some good, some bad, and some unforgettable. A small part of her is consumed with guilt, knowing what she did could be seen as hypocritical.

But as Diego’s strong arm wrapped around her waist pulls her closer to his chest, snuggling into her neck, that feeling washes away. In some selfish way, they both needed this. An eye for an eye, as most would say. It’s not going to end well, and she knows they’ll have to eventually deal with the consequences the same way Five and Lila did, but for now, the rest of the world can wait a while. Y/N turns around, moving impossibly closer to Diego, the man who made her feel wanted at a time where she didn’t think she was.

[rapunzelbro]

A Sacrifice for a friend Angel Dust x Reader 1

Tw/ extreme angst, implied death, sad shit so be warned. This is going to be one of the imagines that ends up being closer to a full blown fanfic

Masterlist Taglist

1 2 2.5 3 3.5 4 5 6 Statement

If Angel Dust was there 5 minutes before, maybe he would’ve been able to change your fate

Maybe if he stopped you from going out that night he could’ve stopped it

He knew you were reckless, he knew how much you cared but why did you do what you did for him of all demons?

Why the FUCK did you do it

You were Angel Dust’s closest friends, you were there from when he first got to the hotel, you two bounced off each others personalities and it made you two of the most annoying people in the Hazbin Hotel but y’all didn’t give a shit

You knew of his deal with Valentino, all the abuse, sex, movies he was forced to do. How he was forced to sign his life away to him. It was fucked.

You were there all the constant nights he came home bloody and bruised to take care of him, comfort him when production got rough, or when he felt at his lowest.

You were far from redemption and you knew that was a given, the only one you cared enough about was Angel Dust and helping his redemption. He was so close but so far

And helping him meant saving him from the hell he was going through. The contact he signed with Valentino which held his redemption back entirely

You were extremely bothered the few weeks leading up to your decision. You were more drunk than usual and avoided questions on why, when they appeared

Husk felt the shift in your mood instantly, and the intentions you had he was unclear of. You usually always had a bright smile and bubbly personality when you were drunk with Angel, but as the weeks passed, he saw the change and that personality slowly went away even if it wasn’t noticeable

He noticed

You started coming back to the hotel later, you always came back bothered and uneasy, you didn’t talk to the others as much it concerned Husk like hell

Everytime he tried to confront you, you were never there or yelled at him.

When it was time for your decision to be made, you had all of your stuff in boxes. Your room has never been so dull until now. Angel helped you decorate with all sort of pink colors and photos of everyone together, but now? it was just lifeless

Everyone was asleep when you walked towards the exit, except for Husk

“Don’t do anything stupid Y/n”

“I can’t guarantee that Husk”

You giving him a smile before you left to do what you had to do whether you were scared shitless or not

Valentino hearing ‘I want to make a deal’ and he is instantly interested

“What will get you to release the contract on Angel Dust”

You’re straight to the point. You already know the answer, which you’ve been preparing for

“He’s my top money maker~ You’d have to give me your soul in exchange for his freedom”

He has his hand out, his signature glasses slightly positioned down to look you in the eyes with a Cheshire Cat like smile

“Do we have a deal?”

You staring at his hand before grabbing onto it

“Deal”

The moment you say that your arms and legs are covered in thick pink smoke before you’re pulled under

“Y/N WHAT THE FU”

That was the last thing you heard followed by the sound of chains breaking

you were pulled in an empty room filled with the similar pink fog coming from one of Valentinos crushed cigarettes.

While the poison of the pink fog holds you still with the tangible arms, you accepted it, you didn’t struggle when your body gave up on you

You accepted your fate long ago

Angel Dust tag list: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @satansmanager @storydays

[madkiska]

watching the entirety of jrwi: riptide again. here's some important things from the first few episodes that I feel we forgot (<110 mentions too though)

Jay

Had night terrors similar to those of Kubakinta's curse in episode 5, and they eventually start returning even after Loffinlot's curse is lifted ○ All of them were about her family and/or the navy ○ I simply think people leave her out of the nightmare stuff and she deserves it. Hurt her more, please (he said, lovingly)

was actually very upset at having to use her medal to get a Loffinlot rebellion to shut up ○ This could be because she didn't want them to guess she was a spy, but I choose to believe it's because she felt guilty

"If you're gonna be sailing with someone, you should have a good relationship with them. [nervous chuckle]." She says, while asking him for information about the Black Rose Pirates (ep. 10)

Said "thank god they didn't find me" after a nightmare about the navy attacking. Even when she was supposedly a spy, who one day would have to return to the navy ○ Very unclear if she was scared of her dad, or if it's because she was a secret spy so the navy would've just killed her

Rewatching, she was suspiciously into the plundering and gold and stuff. Like that was real sus. It doesn't fit her current character much

The only one among them who's gambled before

Chip

The entire thing literally starts off with Bizly holding a lit match

Called Gillion "Gill" and Jay "Sureshot" from an early stage

Was SO much more of a bastard. Lied to Gill constantly, didn't care about anything but the money, etc.

Had aggressive hand tremors alongside Jay's night terrors ○ Gill cures it with lay on hands

When he gets drunk married, they talk extensively about how he'd be released when he's dead. Welp.

They did actually break up and it was fine and they were still friends. They parted on good terms

Is really fucking good at chess ○ Beat Earl twice and Jay once. Jay had a point of exhaustion after a nightmare but Earl had no excuse ○ Lost to Gillion though, but only cause of prophetic screwup ○ This kid is smarter than he lets on, y'all

Was the first one to have a backstory dump while Jay is asking him about the Black Rose Pirates, yet still we know jack shit about his life before them other than "orphan"

Gill

Charlie has referred to Gillion with 'they' many times. I can pull receipts.

When describing Gill, Charlie said: "He's more.. elven, if you had to make a comparison. 'Cause I don't wanna be a fish guy". Oh, honey.

Smote a bald person by using his hair as a whip (ep. 4)

Was given anxiety and self-doubt alongside jay's night terrors and chip's tremors ○ "What do you want?" "I want the feeling of satisfaction I've been chasing my whole life." ○ This was episode FIVE.

First mention of the prophecy and how Gillion wasn't their ideal student is ep. 7, after he divine smites + prophetic screwups and deals like 60 damage to some beetles ○ Chip spends the next 30 seconds in gay awe

He refers to the crescent moon Niklaus tattoo as "my zodiac" (probably a bit) ○ It's not a lil basic white girl moon this thing is the entire size of his forearm

Gill had never heard about the Black Sea - it's unclear if the Undersea just don't know, or if that's just how sheltered he was (ep. 10)

Biz: "What would Gillion do. If he just had no goal - was just sitting there." "Gillion always has a goal." "Would his goal ever be to just.. Sit there?" "Absolutely not." ○ Later, Chip expresses that he doesn't know what Gillion likes. What he would want out of winning a bet. Gillion doesn't have an answer

Other

Apple, in a couple of early battles, acted like Gill's familiar (see: ep. 7)

They also pecked at his Niklaus tramp stamp and looked all confused at the idea of eating seeds

The specific crescent of the moon in the Niklaus tattoo is known as a symbol of "corruption" (ep. 9) and its antonym is the sun, for "life", similar to the yin and yang ○ Interesting to consider after what the tree said in 110 <_<

Pretzel has a masters degree in couple's therapy (ep. 10)

The Albatross/Millennium Chipper was described as the colour of rosewood or mahogany

Captain Lizzie's first introduction was a wanted poster, and Chip wanted to turn her in for the prize, then decided to try learn from her instead

Chip/Bizly called Old Man Earl "Erol" for a loooong time ○ Maybe it's an accent thing but I have an uncle called Erol and so this stands out to me

[urfavlarry]

Your Overlord! Husk is just so 🫠 So I HAD to request something for him!

Reader works at the Casino. She is Husk's favorite waitress (maybe because she is his gf idk 👀) and deals with rude costumers more often than she'd like. During one of those situations, they corner her for trying to "stick her nose in somebody else's business". Overlord! Husk deals with them before they have the chance to do anything. After the situation is taken care of, he steals her away to dote on her <3

This is the (slightly modified) piece of dialogue that inspired my request. Feel free to use it, if you want!

Reader, backing up: "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Let's be civil about this. Let's make a deal; you leave, and you don't die a second time. How does that sound?"

Sinner: "And how do you intend to kill us, dollface?"

Reader: "Oh, no, I can't kill you. But my boss can. Say hi, boss."

Overlord! Husk, appearing behind reader: "Hi."

I'm aware of how cringe this is, but I couldn't help myself ;;

oh my god this isn’t cringe at all!! i love this sm !! hope ive managed to write this how you wanted and that you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this<33

warnings: bad grammar, swearing, alcohol, mention of harassment, the sinners might be sexist? (if i forgot anything tell me in the comments)

•

•

Overlord!Husk x waitress reader

You’ve met Husk a few years ago after you have just fallen into the dark place called Hell. You stumbled upon the casino after you accepted that this was your life— well afterlife for the rest of eternity, and damn, eternity is a long time! So you decided to look for a job, a job you had when you were alive; a waitress.

Husk hired you after a week of you being “on trial” as he likes to call it and you were just fit for the job! You had the nerves of a saint since you used to deal with drunk people that drowned themselves in alcohol and decided to throw the tiny bit of dignity away and harass the workers who didn’t really sign up for being harassed. At your old job you were usually the one that calmed fights and disagreements down and people were really grateful for that. You could say you were like the mom of that last bar you worked at!

Today the casino was calmer the usual, just sinners chatting away and dancing on the dance floor or just having a drink after a long day of work. The day was slow yes, but at least you didn’t have shitty customers to worry about; you thought to yourself but then suddenly the bars doors slam open and in come 4 not so friendly looking fox demons. You hated those kinds of demons, they usually tried to steal and just make your afterlife a living hell— well if that’s even possible since you already are in hell.

You shoot your fellow employees a uncertain glance and walk over to the demons to ask if they decided on their drinks. They snickered as they ordered their drinks and whispered to themselves as you went to get the drinks they wanted. The bartender, Chris, was a fellow friend of yours and as he makes the drinks he says with a worried tone; “Hey Y/N I know you’re experienced and shit but please be careful, those guys used to come here often and they like to start fights and they really are not fun to deal with so just, keep your guard up, okay?” He looks at you with genuine worry as he hands the drinks to you and you pick them up with ease; “Don’t worry Chrissy i’ll be extra careful okay? I’ve dealt with assholes when I was alive you really don’t need to worry about me.” You say with a smile and shoot him a wink and walk over to the men that are now playing poker and are betting for a huge amount of money. You place the drinks down and go back to talk with Chris to pass the time.

Husk was in his usual spot in the VIP room of the casino, gambling with some sinners, having a bored look on his face as it was clear the sinner really had no experience. He looks away for a moment to glance to the other side of the casino to see you chatting with the bartender. He smiles for just a bit and looks back at the game. You were quite close since you had both a lot in common and were quite fond of each other. After about a year and a half of you working at the casino, Husk asked you out and you, of course accepted! You got together after that and you couldn’t have been happier. But the only one that knew about your secret relationship was Chris, since you trusted him with that kind of information. You and Husk got married after 2 years of being together and Chris could just tell you two loved each other, you were practically love sick idiots!

“And you know that bitch that took your place while you were sick? She was a total—” You get cut off by the sound of yelling and you turn your head to see what was happening. The fox demons were now yelling and fighting, screaming foul things at each other because the game was apparently “not fair”. You exchange looks with Chris and sigh, walking over to the angered men with a calm look on your face, straightening your uniform.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! May I ask what is the cause of all of this commotion? You’re disturbing the others that are trying to have a good time.” You say with a calm tone trying to calm the situation and to not raise attention. “Go mind your fucking business bitch you probably put something in our drinks to make us focus less so that asshole can win!” One of them yells and the others nod along with angered looks on their faces. “Im sorry wh—” You get cut off yet again by the one of the angry men; “Just shut the fuck up your so clueless it’s embarrassing you probably don’t even know how to do your job properly” Another one of them says grabbing your wrist to pull you down to his height. Your nose scrunches in disgust since you can smell the alcohol from his mouth and you just pray you don’t throw up in his face. He starts to speak again, clearly still annoyed; “How about you fucking go do your job like a good little lady and bring us another drink.” The demon says with a smirk on his face and lets you go and whistles at you as you go to leave. You turn around and glare slightly at the man but take a deep breath and say; “Gentlemen calm yourselves please, let’s be civil about this, yes? How about you either leave this casino and never come back, or you can treat the employees with respect.” You say brushing off your uniform and look at them with a smile fake like the money they were betting on.

“Yea? Or else what?” One of them asks gaining some new found confidence and smirks at you looking you up and down, licking his lips as if you were some kind of prey. “You get to keep your little afterlife and don’t die a second time!” You say with a sarcastic tone and smile. They start to laugh as if you just said the most hilarious thing in the entire world and look at you like a little child who was born yesterday; “Aww and how does a little demon like you intend to do that?” They all snicker awaiting your answer that they were sure it was gonna be even more hilarious then the previous statement you made.

Husk who heard the commotion and has been watching the interaction from afar for almost 10 minutes was growing more and more annoyed by the second. How dare they speak to his wife like that? They think they can just waltz in here and fuck with his wife? Yeah no. He slowly starts to walk towards you and the men and you notice him out from the corner of your eye and smirk, knowing from the look on his face that he was pissed. Maybe even that was not that much of a strong word to describe the anger bubbling up in his body. You look at the demons in front of you and say; “Perhaps you would like to discuss that with my boss?” You say and step back from the demons who replace their smug expressions with confused glances.

“Is there a problem here gentlemen?” Husk asks raising a brow with a annoyed look on his face as the fox demons now look like they’ve pissed themselves. You smirk at the men flipping them off from behind, sticking your tongue out. Your boss from your old job never really bothered to stand up for his employees so it felt good to finally have assholes like them eat their own shit.

The demons scatter and leave money at the table at mumble apologies towards you and Husk and leave the casino without another word. The employees and some of the customers cheer and whistle and scream at the demons to never come back and you cheer a bit yourself, happy that someone finally stood up for you.

The atmosphere was finally back to its normal calm self and Husk looks at you with a bit of a angered look, not because of you, but because he was still pissed someone would just treat his wife like shit, but of course he looks at you with a hint of worry but he’s careful to not show it since he has a reputation to uphold. “Y/N, my office. Now.” He says as he slowly walks over to the back door for employees and you share a worried look with Chris, he looks at you confused and raises a brow at you. You just shrug your shoulders since you’re just as confused as him but you follow closely behind Husk as he wait for you at the employee door. You both walk to his office not far down the hall and he opens the door and lets you enter first. He enters right after you, closing the door behind him. He stays quiet for a bit ask he smokes his cigarette, looking out from the huge window he had in his office.

You stand there nervously and fiddle with your sleeves, hoping you weren’t in trouble, because you really don’t wanna deal with an angry Husk. He throws the cigarette butt out of the window and turns to look at you. He walks up to you cups your cheek in his hand and asks; “Are you okay my love? Did those fuckers hurt you?” He says with worry evident in his voice and you sigh; “No, no they didn’t do anything i’m fine Husker i’ve dealt with shit like this before..” You say looking away from him frowning slightly grabbing your slightly bruised wrist. “I don’t take shit like that to heart.” You say with a smirk.

He smiles softly at you and pulls you closer grabbing you by the waist; “I know Doll I just wanted to check on you, you know? Those guys really are pieces of shit and i’ve wanted to shut them up for a while now, but you did that pretty well yourself~” He says with a smirk and a teasing tone.

“Yeah, yeah I know i’m just the best.” You say with a playful tone and chuckle. “I’m glad you were worried about me tho. I guess the “heartless Overlord” really does have a soft spot for me~” You giggle teasing the cat demon, you knew very well he cared about you, and you were very grateful for that. Husk wraps his tail around your leg and look you up at Husk, shivering slightly from his touch, but you can’t help but admire his features up close. He smirks at the remark and pulls you closer so your bodies are practically touching and your faces are inches apart. He suddenly dips you, your lips barely apart as he grabs you firmly, careful so you don’t fall and and smiles, a genuine smile you have never seen before, a smile that Husk himself couldn’t believe he had used and says;

“Hm, well love, you might just happen to have a special spot in this dead heart of mine~”

He says and leans in closing the small gap between you two. Your breath hitches at the contact but you don’t hesitate to kiss back, a simple act that made your heart flutter even though you’ve done this a million times before. You smiled into the kiss and you started to wonder how you could have found such a great partner.

It was kind of funny, you really were a match made in hell.

[laurfilijames]

Like My Dreams

Part 5

Intro Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 9.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Unprotected intercourse. Sex in a public place. Blood, cuts and bruises. Dressing of wounds. Cockwarming. Mention of stab wound and life-threatening injuries. Assault. Threat of rape.

Summary: Right when you and Pete seal the deal on your relationship, more car trouble and a visit from an ex stirs up drama and pops the blissful bubble you waited so long for.

A/N: 😅 this chapter really got away from me but I had the best time writing it!! I had an idea for part of it and pitched it to the wonderfully supportive @ramadiiiisme who encouraged me to go for it and helped me pull it off, so big thanks to you a million times more 💗 The scene with Mrs. Platt was inspired by a conversation with @stealfromthedevil about her dear grandmother who's cheeky words are included in the dialogue 💗💗

The linked song is one I've been listening to non-stop while writing this chapter and is just so lovely and fits in with all the fluffy bits of not only this chapter, but this series as a whole.

---

It had been a couple of hours since Pete had gone home to shower and clean up after the friendly game with the lads, now sitting in his favourite seat at their table watching the Hammers struggle to get a lead against Chelsea, the match currently tied at 1-1. He would normally care a bit more about it, but knowing you were on your way to meet him there had taken all his focus and energy, feeling more excited to see you than bothered that his team might end the game in a draw, or worse.

He slouched against the old chair with his arm over the back, taking a long sip of his beer before setting it back down and licking his lips.

“Oh, come on! Fucking unbelievable!” he muttered at the screen, the referee pulling an outrageous call against West Ham.

Whatever happened next in the game no longer mattered to him all that much, seeing you walk in the door and through the crowd of people standing between you, his smile growing as he watched you tug your scarf out from around your neck and head over to the bar where you stopped to say hello to Terry and order a drink.

Pete stood and walked over slowly, admiring you from across the room as you chatted with Terry for a moment, your smile making his heart nearly stop when you turned and directed it at him as he reached you.

He said nothing, his grin too large to control any words to come through it, instead opting for a greeting he had been waiting all night to give.

Grabbing your cheeks, he leaned in and kissed you, inhaling with a low moan as he felt you melt into him and release your breath, your hands landing limply on his biceps.

A few people cheered around you, making both of you smile again after you parted from each other, but the need to get you alone was quickly becoming a priority in the realization of how many people were preventing him from doing all the things he wanted to do right then and there.

“Hi, love,” he said warmly, the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes making desire stir inside you.

“Hi,” you sighed with a love-drunk smile, the single word a breathy whisper.

Pete bit his lip as he reached for both of your drinks off the bar, nodding in the direction of their table in the corner.

“Come on, gorgeous, we’re over here.”

You were greeted warmly as usual, the spirits of everyone high after the Hammers scored a goal, and with all members of the GSE and their respective partners present to watch the match, little room was available at the booth.

Ned and Ike shifted over to make a spot for you beside Clair and Dave, leaving a space that was too large for your liking between you and where Pete sat in his designated chair, his hands folded together with his elbows resting on the arms of it as he looked fondly at you mixed in with his favourite people.

As much as you loved being at The Abbey enjoying conversations that made your cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing so much, the company that Pete kept people you now couldn’t imagine your life without, it was difficult for you to focus tonight, your mind constantly wandering to how the night was going to turn out just as much as your eyes continued to find Pete’s automatically.

It was like he knew everything you were thinking, his blue eyes glowing with a telling want and his looks loaded with insinuation, every swipe of his tongue over his lips or the way he rolled the toothpick that hung out of his mouth teasing you and driving you mad.

You squirmed in your seat, your fingers toying with the soggy coaster that had been spilled on too many times, forcing yourself to peel your eyes away from him whenever you felt the heat inside you becoming too much, only to steal another glance a moment later, finding him still looking at you hungrily.

The game was coming to an end, and with the Hammers still holding onto their lead, Pete was more than happy to miss the rest of it in exchange for seeing something he had wanted to all day, and as you slowly trailed your hand down your neck to your chest before reaching for the drink you had nursed most of the night, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

Waiting for you to glance over at him again, he watched you intently, imagining your bare form beneath him, pressing his lips against every single inch of you.

Finally, you met his gaze, a sultry look weighing in your eyes, and with a subtle nod toward the door, Pete silently told you it was time to go.

You smiled almost sheepishly, your face seeming to glow in a mix of embarrassment and excitement as you rushed through your goodbyes, your friends all shouting teasing jeers at you in knowing the reason behind your early exit.

Pete winked at you as he shrugged into his tan trench coat, adjusting the collar and tugging it up at the back so it covered his neck, flicking the toothpick he still had in his mouth onto the table.

He took your hand and lead you through the pub with a pride that didn’t go unnoticed by those you passed, finding yourself bashful in thinking that everyone knew what was about to happen based on the look on your face, having to bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning and cast your eyes down at the worn carpet as you made your way out.

The door hadn’t even shut behind you before Pete had you up against the brick wall, his hands holding your waist with a claiming grip as he leaned into you and kissed you breathless, his want for you inarguable.

“Let’s go home,” he said with surety, his smile lighting up his eyes when he stepped away from you, pulling you with him with his hand clasped around yours again confidently.

The walk to Pete’s wasn’t long, but was made longer tonight by how often the two of you stopped to kiss, unable to keep off of each other for the duration it took to land at his door.

There was thankfully no sign of Mrs. Platt hanging around to make comments, the time it took for Pete to fish out his keys and unlock the deadbolt incredibly delayed due to interrupting the process in favour of kissing, your bodies now pressing together more closely and your hands becoming bolder where they roamed.

Pete finally opened the door and walked through it, and after tossing his keys onto the table, turned to grin at you and take your hand, pulling you inside with him.

“Get in here,” he said through his smirk, the playful tone of his voice undisguisable despite how much lust showed in his eyes.

He brought you in against him, his lips teasing yours as he whispered, “I need you.”

You smoothed your hands up the back of his neck as you kissed him, melting when he moaned into your mouth as the sensation of your fingers raking through his hair made him desperate for more, the intensity of the kiss increasing quickly.

Within moments you stood naked in his room, holding each other close while playful kisses were shared and hands began their worship, the excitement and anticipation that had slowly built up to this moment stirring within you.

It was clear that Pete felt the same, his smile unable to be wiped from his face each time you parted to look at each other, and as he moved closer to the bed with you, he tucked his bottom lip in his teeth to try to restrict it.

You sat on the mattress, leaning back on your elbows where he followed closely, crawling over you as you fully laid down in his bedding that lingered with the scents of him and you. His smile turned into a sweet chuckle as you giggled too, having him settle between your legs and laying on top of you making you feel unbelievably elated, the sensation of his readied cock resting against your core solidifying the fact that you couldn’t possibly wait another night.

His expression turned serious for a moment as he peered down at you, a soft groan coming out of his mouth as his cock rubbed against you when he shifted slightly.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asked, his voice somewhat shaky with restraint.

You nodded, and spoke with as much certainty as you could have in a moment where you felt on the border of being totally consumed by lust and longing, “Fuck me, Pete.”

He didn’t hesitate, pushing into you with a confident drive of his hips, your head tilting back as you cried out, the stretch of him filling you bare without a doubt the best thing you had ever felt.

Together, you quickly found a pace that suited you both, his thrusts slow and rolling but purposeful, his kisses growing more desperate on the skin of your neck and chest as each minute ticked on.

It took hardly any time at all for your climax to fire up within you, the anticipation of sex with Pete having let the intensity of it lay in dormancy right under the surface only to bring it forth faster than ever, his body linked with yours igniting and awakening every part of you.

You clawed at his back in a signal of your oncoming pleasure as well as a silent plea for more, half of you wanting to experience it immediately while the other half begged to prolong it all.

Clenching around his cock, you couldn’t ward it off any longer, moaning into his mouth as he continued to slam into you in a tempo that sent you to the edge but you could tell was beginning to falter as his climax took him in its clutches.

Your orgasm came through you hard and fast, shattering every inch of you as he followed right along with you, feeling him pulse and swell inside your walls, soaking him at the same time he filled you.

Pete kissed you almost frantically as he slowed his movements in you, savouring every second of being inside you while seemingly starving for more, your whines quieting out in his mouth as his breathing worked to calm to normal.

Emotion overcame him at the thought of never being able to experience this with you, the reality of him almost dying without ever having kissed you or touched you or loved you made his eyes burn, and closing them tight as he parted from your lips, he held your face in his hand and brought his forehead to rest against yours, his thumb moving to pull down your lower lip as you shared more laboured breaths.

You made love again and again through the night, resting between rounds only long enough to recharge, the addiction you had to each other increasing each time.

It was well after three in the morning when you had finally fallen asleep, exhaustion eventually taking over the nagging need for more, the cold comfort of the open window and your bodies wrapped together truly feeling like heaven.

The sound of rain and Pete stirring against you woke you up, making you scoot back against him to get closer to him, his arm that was wrapped around your waist tightening its hold and pulling you in.

He hummed in your hair, his body beginning to wake before his mind fully did, feeling him harden against your bum while his lips lazily kissed down the back of your neck.

A long moan sounded from you as you indulged in the blissful sensation, wriggling against him until his cock was firmly pressed between your cheeks, beginning to rock your hips languidly back and forth until his sleepy kisses turned to warning nips.

“Babe…” his sleepy voice purred in your ear, his lips pulling your lobe between them before his tongue swept along its shell.

“Pete…I need you.” His name fell from your lips in a whimper as your hand took hold of his and guided it between your legs, his fingertips gently stroking your clit until he had you begging for more.

Pete sat up and guided you onto all fours, positioning himself behind you where he gripped your cheeks with his hands to part them while he stroked your folds with the head of his cock.

Despite feeling how wet you were, he was aware how you would likely be sore from the amount of times he’d fucked you already, reaching over for the bottle of lube on the nightstand where he squeezed some out and coated his length until he hissed from the sensation of his own hand and slowly guided himself inside your tight walls.

He watched your hands grip the sheets as he filled you, your fingers relaxing slightly as he pulled back out, only to grip them harder and cry out when he pushed in again.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he muttered, keeping a slow tempo even though he was tempted to quicken it and destroy you.

He heard your soft hum of appreciation for his praise over the pouring rain, everything you did adding up to drive him insane and make him fall more in love with you, suddenly feeling as if being buried inside you wasn’t enough to appease his heart.

Pete wrapped his arm around you so his hand splayed out over your stomach, applying pressure to guide you to sit up and onto his lap, careful to keep himself locked in your cunt.

Spreading the remaining lube onto your clit with his fingers, Pete began to steadily work you, his other hand holding you up while also squeezing and massaging your breasts, his mouth worshiping the space between your shoulder and ear in an intoxicating way that had your head lulling back onto his shoulder.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as a brisk gust blew in through the window, adding to the over-stimulation that assaulted every part of you, doing your best to focus on the fullness of Pete driving inside you as you rocked yourself on his lap.

You reached your arm up and around his head, stroking his hair and gripping at him as you rode him, feeling yourself beginning to lose all control but placing all your trust in him to take care of you just how you needed.

Still holding you firmly against him, he continued to strum between your legs, knowing how close he was getting you from how you subtly tried to escape his grasp and your body convulsed to his touch, feeling your hands tighten on his head and forearm that was wrapped around you to keep you in place.

“That’s it. Come for me,” he panted in your ear, feeling you angle your hips against his hand in order to gain more friction on your clit, chasing your end as he increased the power behind his hammering thrusts.

Quiet whimpers grew at a steady pace as they spilled from your mouth, your whines of pleasure drowned out in your own ears as you focused on the sound of Pete’s heavy breathing and the praises he was showering you with, the pouring rain tapping furiously against the glass panes.

You unraveled together, the way your body tightly coiled before turning limp milking out his climax at the same time, his breath fanning out over your dewy skin as he rested his parted lips on your shoulder and stilled inside you.

Lifting yourself off his lap, you sank onto the mattress on your stomach, closing your eyes as exhaustion completely took over you, a faint smile tugging at your lips when you felt Pete follow, kissing up along your back until he collapsed half on top of you.

He took hold of your hand and brought it to rest between your bodies, kissing your knuckles softly until his breathing began to turn shallow as sleep quickly dragged him into its grasp.

These were the moments you knew you couldn’t live without, willing to sacrifice sleep night after night in order to love and be loved like this, the gratitude that filled you at being the one laying beside him as he slept outweighing any desire to close your eyes and miss even a second of it.

You knocked twice on the door before opening it anyway, letting yourself in just as Pete had told you to whenever you came over, the urgency you felt to get inside and out of the hallway too much to handle even if you weren’t allowed to walk in as you pleased.

Pete gave you an amused look, one of his eyebrows hooking high on his forehead as he placed the pen he had been holding in his mouth and reached for another paper to grade off the coffee table, your laughter sparking his curiosity.

“What?” he asked, letting out his own chuckle at your flustered state as you leaned against the door and ran your hand over your head.

“I was just stopped by Mrs. Platt. She told me she can hear us and to keep it down!”

Pete burst out laughing, shifting on the settee so his arm rested on the back of it to face you more.

“It’s not funny!” you argued, even though you were still laughing yourself, shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you had just had with the crotchety woman in her eighties.

“Oh, it is!”

“Pete!” you urged, as if saying his name would scold him into not making fun of the situation, walking through to the living area where you plopped your bag down on one of the chairs as you passed.

“She actually said, ‘It’s not my place, but do you two ever sleep? All I hear night after night is that bed banging against the flaming wall!’”

Pete only laughed harder, hanging his head back over the sofa where you stood behind it and leaned down to grab hold of his face, begging him to stop laughing before kissing him in order to try to shut him up when he didn’t.

He was still chuckling when you pulled away from him, prompting you to smack his chest as you cursed at him.

“I can’t keep being stopped in the hallway to listen to this poor old woman make comments about hearing us have sex!”

“Ah, she’s just winding you up!”

You turned to walk into the kitchen only to be stopped by Pete’s arm wrapping around your waist to pull you back to the couch that he leaned over the back of, looking at you with mischief in his eyes that made you melt and suddenly not worry about anyone hearing the things you did together.

“Come on, love,” he purred. “She ain’t heard nothing yet.”

“Is that a promise, or a threat?” you asked, smirking as you freed yourself from his grip and made it into the kitchen, filling up the kettle.

“Both!” he replied, sitting back down on the sofa where he resumed marking his student’s homework.

“I need to take my car back to the mechanic,” you explained, shifting the conversation to something ordinary after a couple minutes of comfortable silence while placing a tea bag into your respective mugs.

“Yeah?” Pete asked somewhat distractedly as he focused on his task.

“Yeah, it's been making a funny noise whenever I accelerate, and it sort of jolts when I shift gear. Hopefully it’s nothing major or expensive, they were meant to be the best mechanic…”

“When are you taking it in?”

“Tomorrow morning. My sister’s going to meet me there and take me to work after.”

“I can do it if you want,” he offered, glancing over at you.

“Nah you’re off the hook,” you smiled, “she’s got some holiday time so I’m off duty being Jack’s chauffeur for a week!”

“Ah, look at you!”

“I know, right? She’s even taking him to practice this week.”

“That means I won’t get to see you there then, nothing good to look at on the sidelines and distract me,” he pouted, making you roll your eyes before pouring the hot water into your mugs.

“I reckon you’ll live.”

“Ah, then Mrs. Platt will just get to hear an even better show than normal when I get back home to you,” Pete laughed, ducking when you threw the tea towel at him.

The drive to Millwall took longer than normal due to rush-hour traffic, but it didn’t bother you as much as it typically would knowing you had a late start to your day that had been approved by your boss.

You pulled into the open bay door of the garage, parking your car and stepping out, giving a friendly smile to the mechanic who had helped you before.

“Giving you some grief, then eh?” he asked through a grin, nodding to your car as he wiped his hands on a rag.

“Yeah, as I said on the phone it’s kind of clunking when I’m shifting and the sound it makes when I accelerate worries me a bit…”

“We’ll put ‘er right, not to worry!” he beamed at you, extending his oil-stained hand to take your keys that you held out for him.

He stared at you for a moment, making you avert your gaze slightly, feeling somewhat uneasy.

“Say, you don’t happen to know the Dunham’s do you?” he asked, his question making your head whip up again in surprise. “Steve and Pete? They’re brothers.”

You tilted your head, your curiosity somewhat guarded, “I do, as it happens…”

The way his smile changed and the shift in his eyes put you on edge and raised your suspicions, but you did your best to remain confident, interested as to why he was asking and how he knew who they were.

“I thought as much,” he nodded.

His response took you back, and you blinked quickly, trying to wrap your head around this whole inquiry.

“Sorry, how exactly do you know them?”

He hesitated, staring you down for a few seconds before answering, almost as if he was being careful to formulate a proper response or like he was unsure how much to tell you.

“...We’re old mates,” he said slowly, his smile not leaving his thin lips.

You nodded, glancing down at the embroidered name tag on the chest of his overalls, the name ‘Martin’ one you wouldn’t forget.

“Right,” he broke the silence, his tone more cheerful in disrupting the somewhat tense air. “We’ll have a look at it and likely get it back to you at the start of next week…give ya a ring when we know what it needs and what the damage is.”

“Ta,” you thanked him, giving him one last look before turning and walking out of the garage, heading to your sister’s car where she was parked on the road out front.

You pulled the handle on the door and sat down into the passenger seat, looking out the window into the shop where Martin stood with another man of equal stature, both of them glancing out in your direction.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hm? Nothing, it’s fine,” you assured her, smiling at her as you put your seatbelt on. “Can we stop for a coffee on the way?”

It was a typical Thursday night at The Abbey, everyone gathering at the table one by one as they flowed in from work, a pint and some laughs with mates seeming to be of the same priority for each hardworking hooligan alike as the week started to take its toll and winded down to an end.

“Where’s Pete?” Ike asked, sitting down beside you with his fresh pint.

“Oh, he’s coaching tonight,” you explained, spinning what was left of your gin and tonic in its glass. “He should be here in an hour or so.”

Ike nodded in confirmation as he took a long sip of his beer, both of you drawing your attention to the Bjorno’s as they walked in with a cheerful greeting.

Dave planted a kiss on Clair’s lips as he stopped at the bar to get the drinks in, letting her continue on to the table where she sat down with a sigh.

“Long shift?” you asked, catching the weary look that she couldn’t easily hide.

She glanced at you exasperatedly, “Oh, don’t even get me started!”

“Here you go, my love,” Dave said while leaning down to place her drink in front of her, kissing the top of her head as he did.

You found it difficult to focus on the conversations happening around you, your attention glued to the small group of women standing at the far side of the bar, the looks they kept shooting your way making you feel uneasy.

“Hey, do you know who they are?” you asked Clair, subtly nodding in their direction as they leaned in over the bar to get closer to Vicky, the barmaid, before all staring back at you again.

“Those tarts?” Clair began. “Yeah, they’re mates of Vicky’s. Bunch of slags.”

You nodded, taking it in but still not having an answer as to why they seemed so interested in you, thinking of all the times you had nice enough conversations with Vicky, or so you thought.

“Pete used to have it off with the blonde one,” Bovver piped up, blowing the smoke from his freshly lit cigarette in your direction as he spoke.

Your eyebrows raised high on your forehead as you took in the information, finally having some clarity as to why these women you had never seen before were obviously unhappy with your presence.

“Fucked like crazy for a few months…” he continued, the iciness of his blue eyes holding something of a threat as he told you.

“Oi! Don’t be like that,” Dave scolded him, shoving his arm. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“It’s true!” Bov scowled, his loyalty to his relations with Vicky clearly extending to her friends over you.

You sighed, trying not to let it bother you, reminding yourself that everyone, including you, had a past, and hoped that whatever issue she had with you would pass soon.

“Right, I need another,” you stated, shaking your empty glass in your hand as you stood.

Just as you anticipated, the daggers coming from across the bar dug into your back, still doing your best to ignore them while waiting for Terry to fix your drink, but that became impossible when the blonde who was apparently an ex of Pete’s slunk over to you and stood far closer to you than you would’ve liked.

“I didn’t think it was true, but here you are,” she began, her accent sloppy from the drinks she had tossed back already, her breath smelling of stale fags and the tartness of the cranberry juice she mixed with her vodka.

“What’s true?” you asked, giving her no more than a sideways glance as you fished the change from your pocket to pay for your drink.

“That Pete is dating a plain, old slag.”

“I’m sorry, and who might you be?”

“I was you only a few months back,” she grinned, her smile vicious and proud in her admission that she had been Pete’s at one time.

You huffed as you smiled, taking your drink from Terry who eyed you up as if offering his help, turning to go back to the table. The thought of him being with someone as vile as her made your stomach lurch, and not wanting to give it any further attention, you ignored her.

“I’m not done talking to you, you soppy cow!” she shouted, her lack of couth on full display to everyone around as a hush fell over the pub.

When you continued on your way over to the group, all of them watching with bated breath to see what would happen next, the satisfaction on Bovver’s face boiling your blood more than she was, her shrill voice sounded out again, making you pause.

“He said I was the best he’s ever had, and I’ll be right here to remind him of that.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the adrenaline making you feel shaky and on the verge of doing something stupid, but instead you neglected to give her the drama she sought and took your seat again, praying that Pete would get there soon.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Dave assured, leaning over Clair who had already offered to fight her twice. “It wasn’t that serious…”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” you assured, hoping it sounded genuine or at least believable.

“I mean, they were at it together for a few months…” Keith added in, earning a scolding from both Dave and Swill, making you swallow thickly.

You took a long sip of your drink as you tried to tune out the sound of the lads bickering and the jeers still coming in your direction from across the bar, your eyes closing as you tried to slow your breathing.

After a couple more minutes, you stood and made your way through the bar to the loo, praying no one would follow you, your newfound enemies calling you names as you passed.

Pete finally made it to the pub, strutting through the crowd and desperate for a beer after a long day at work and then coaching out in the cold rain, the sight of his ex leaning what she thought was invitingly against the bar making him scowl as he passed.

When there was no sight of you at the table, he did a quick glance around, distractingly returning everyone’s greetings as he shrugged out of his jacket and sat.

“Oi, what’s she doing here?” he asked Dave, nodding over in the direction of the bar where they continued to stare over at him.

Dave shook his head, “They’ve been causing trouble, pal.”

Seeing Pete’s face fall into worry as he looked around for you again, Dave continued. “She’s in the toilets, she seemed a bit upset…”

“For fuck’s sake,” Pete muttered, standing and going through the pub in quick strides, not giving his ex even a glimpse as he passed.

He pushed open the door to the ladies room more aggressively than he intended, his anger at the situation and that cheap tart upsetting you getting to him, his anger quickly turning to surprise when he saw you standing in front of the tarnished mirror reapplying your lip gloss, appearing fine and unbothered.

“Can I help you?” you grinned, watching him in the mirror with unhidden amusement at his presence.

His head tilted a bit to the side, walking toward you slowly while still assessing you, his concern still creasing his features even though he was smiling back at you.

“They said you were upset…”

You laughed and shook your head, screwing the cap back on your lip gloss before sticking it in your pocket, turning to look at him directly instead of in the mirror, your bum sitting on the edge of the sink.

“Upset? Over those twats? Come on…” you shrugged, trying your best to play it cool even though it had bothered you more than you were letting on.

Pete closed the space between you and leaned his forehead against yours, still searching your eyes for any hints of you being hurt or shaken up.

You let your eyelids close, instantly feeling relaxed from him being close to you, breathing in deeply when he brought his hands up to hold your face.

“We all have a past, Pete,” you whispered, saying it more for your own conviction than his, the frustrated exhale he let out at his past involving that awful slag fanning over your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his lips moving against yours as they hovered there, teasing a kiss.

“Don’t be sorry,” you answered, your hands trailing up his chest where you took hold of the collar of his jumper and slid the material through your fingers, his body moving closer to yours. “Just kiss me, Pete.”

He did, crashing into you so hard your head was forced back but stopped by his hands still gripping your face, his tongue delving into your mouth hungrily and greedily where you didn’t hesitate to match his fervor.

Everything was rough and desperate, kissing with a need to prove that each other’s lips were the only ones ever worth kissing, your hands pawing and groping in a crazed act of passion.

Pete’s fingers tore at the button and zipper of your jeans before diving his hand inside them, his long fingers stroking through your folds until your wet coated them, your moans reverberating in his mouth as you continued to kiss, your lips moving against each other sloppily and hastily.

After a minute, he withdrew from you, roughly tugging your jeans and panties down your thighs, his steely eyes staring at your exposed cunt as he quickly unfastened his own jeans and pulled out his hard cock before crashing against you again.

You spread your legs as wide as you were able to, giving him enough access to your core where he guided his leaking head, smearing his precum on your clit a few times until you were moaning and begging him to fill you.

Pete happily obliged, pushing inside your tight walls where he paused once he couldn’t go any deeper, kissing you frantically and groaning into your mouth from how good you felt.

Like he lost all sense of control, he slammed in and out of you, fucking you hard and fast while his mouth hung open and panted against yours in his efforts, the sink creaking precariously as you rocked your hips in time with his brutal thrusts, your fingers digging into the back of his neck and shoulders as you held on tight.

You were both so entranced in each other that neither of you noticed the door opening, his ex standing in the doorway in shock of the scene she walked into, scoffing as she turned and left.

“Fuck, babe,” he growled, pulling his face away from yours slightly where he watched his cock slide in and out of you, the sight encouraging him to move even more furiously within you, your cries growing louder as your climax quickly built up.

“Pete!” you bellowed, a desperation in your voice that told him you were on the brink, and knowing you were at risk of screaming as you came, he covered your mouth with his and proceeded to pound you mercilessly, swallowing your noises of unbridled pleasure as you clenched and shuddered on his cock.

Only seconds behind you, Pete bucked into your soaked cunt until he pumped you full of his hot spend, feeling it leak out of you as he continued to slowly thrust, drawing out every moment of your highs that he could.

You laughed as you comprehended what just happened, smoothing your hand over your head as your chest rose and fell sharply, Pete chuckling as a mischievous and prideful look dressed his flushed features.

“It’s impossible to get enough of you,” he admitted, his eyes flickering over your face as he leaned his arms against the sink, caging you in.

You hummed appreciatively, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, kissing him long and slow and in a way you hoped conveyed everything you felt for him.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked when your kiss slowed to a pause, the blue of his eyes more vibrant and full of emotion.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling at him softly while your finger traced the crease beside his mouth.

“Okay, darling,” he cooed, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he inhaled deeply, his face moving into the side of your neck where he pressed kisses into the sensitive skin and made you squirm and giggle.

Stopping, he brought his face back up to look at you, his expression serious again, his hand finding yours where he laced your fingers together and gave it three gentle squeezes.

“You know you’re the only one I want, yeah?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand back three times, smiling bigger as his own grew.

“I do, though I wouldn’t mind you showing me again…”

“Careful what you wish for!” he laughed burying his face into your neck again where he nipped and sucked at your skin, your laughter echoing against the tiled walls.

Pete walked out of the bathroom with you confidently after cleaning up and composing yourselves, even happier to see that his ex and the rest of Vicky’s horrible friends had left, the expressions on everyone’s faces as you sat back down at the table telling you they knew exactly what you had been up to.

“Oi, that colour suits you, mate,” Ned commented, pointing to his lips as he stared at Pete’s that were tinted from your lip gloss.

“Yeah? It’d suit yours too,” Pete said, leaning over and planting a kiss on Ned’s cheek quickly before he pushed him away, cursing and wiping his cheek dramatically.

Pete laughed as he took his seat, downing his pint that had been waiting for him to return to, leaning back in his chair where he pulled you onto his lap to have you proudly perch, the atmosphere more relaxed and as it normally was.

Red dripped into the sink one drop at a time, flowing steadily from so many places on his hands and face he wasn’t even sure where it was all coming from.

Pete tugged more tissues out of the box, bunching them up and holding them to what he thought was the deepest cut on his chin with as much pressure as he could, the ache in his hand preventing him from doing a sufficient job. He didn’t think he’d cracked on that Zulu cunt as hard as he did, but his knuckles proved otherwise, split open what felt like to the bone.

Any effects the pints in his bloodstream had provided him had definitely worn off now, his head pounding and every cut on him stinging and burning like mad, the severity of each fresh injury hard to determine as he looked at himself in the mirror through one good eye, the dark, puffy welt spreading up to his other from his cheek.

He stood with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his blood and sweat-stained clothes discarded in a heap on the floor, his reflection revealing bruises on his side and abdomen that refused to be ignored when he had lifted his jumper over his head.

It was late, and as quiet as he tried to be, Pete knew better than to think you wouldn’t have heard him come home, your inability to stay asleep for long without him something he secretly loved and made him swell, always feeling equally as eager to get back home and in bed with you.

“Hiya, love,” he muttered, smirking at you in the mirror when you appeared in the doorway, your sleepy face quickly changing to shock when you saw the state of him.

“I’m fine!” he stressed, knowing what your next words were going to be, the worry on your face breaking his heart a little.

“Pete…” you whispered, not in an accusatory or scolding way, but out of sheer love and care, your hands cupping his cheeks gently despite getting blood on them, your eyes searching his for truth in his claim of being okay.

“Fucking Zulu’s…” he trailed off, a small laugh blowing out of his lungs.

Never once had you asked him to stop fighting, and he knew you wouldn’t now, taking the aftermath of his hobby on the chin just like he did multiple times tonight, his love and appreciation for you making him feel a bit emotional as he watched you open the cupboard and get out the first aid kit to tend to his wounds.

He blinked back the moisture that had quickly accumulated in his eyes before you were facing him again, closing them when you pressed a careful kiss to his bloody lips, letting out a long sigh when you pulled away.

“Sit so I can see better,” you instructed, your voice soft and soothing to his ears.

Pete turned and stepped toward the tub, perching on the edge of it so he faced the sink for you to work, watching the deep red spots staining it dilute into a rusty colour as water ran from the tap and washed his blood off the porcelain.

Carefully, and for as long as it would take, you gently cleaned all of his wounds, wiping the blood that had dried and stuck in his blond stubble and dabbing the cuts that still oozed, your touch becoming lighter whenever you noticed a wince that involuntarily snuck past his attempts to hide them.

Luckily, nothing needed stitches, and even though Pete knew you were done cleaning and disinfecting each cut he’d sustained, you continued to linger, admiring his bruised and battered features.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled you close to him, letting his face lean into your stomach, breathing deeply as you raked your fingers up his bare back and through his hair. His shoulders relaxed, letting go of the tension held in them from taking the painful sting of peroxide seeping into his cuts over and over, his hands smoothing up your bare thighs and your bum.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” you whispered, your lips pressing against his scalp.

He hummed, pulling his face away from the warmth of your body in his sweater.

“Yeah. C’mere,” he offered, shifting slightly so your legs had room to straddle him.

You seated yourself on his lap, smiling when his own broke out on his damaged face, your back arching into him when he placed his hands under his sweater that you had now worn more times than him to card up your back.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, admiring you for a moment before kissing you softly, his nose moving back and forth on yours a couple of times before nudging your cheek, resting his face against it while he closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

“You’re welcome, love,” you cooed, your fingers ghosting over the back of his neck, making him melt into you even more.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he spoke, mostly to himself, still finding it hard to believe that he had been lucky enough to survive his injuries and then have you walk into his classroom that one morning.

Pete kissed your cheek once, then again, each press to your soft skin urging him to add another and then more after that, eventually meeting your lips with his until minutes had passed with you lost in the haze created by your slow kisses.

His hands held your back firmly, keeping you close to him and preventing you from falling back as he moved his head away from yours and looked at you in a way that made you want to show him that the love you had for him existed like no other.

“I love you,” he professed, as if he had stolen the words right out of your mouth. Those three words were spoken with a calm surety that held such truth there was no way you could deny or question it, your fingers trembling against his cheek as you trailed them along the crease that flanked his lips.

“I love you, too, Pete.”

The taste of blood transferred onto your tongue again as he crashed into you, kissing you with more ardor than ever before, the relevancy of the cuts on his lips no longer a concern to either of you.

Your hands slipped around the back of his neck, pulling him into you even more to deepen your kiss, your hips rolling against his just enough that you could feel his cock hardening, your bare core grinding on the somewhat rough material of the towel separating you.

Pete moaned into your mouth, and without stopping kissing you, leaned back enough to unwrap the fold of the towel from his waist, letting it fall open under him.

His hands slid under your thighs, guiding you to lift your hips in order to get on top of his cock, breaking your kiss to watch your face as you sank down on his length.

Before you even had the chance to start riding him, Pete ran his battered hands over your hair, his eyes holding as much softness as his voice did.

“Just be still for me, yeah?” he asked, wanting to savour the intimacy of being inside you unmoving.

You nodded, drawing in a deep, shaky breath, closing your eyes as his nose brushed against yours before capturing your lips again, your hand resting on his chest where you could feel his heart beating wildly.

You would have been kidding yourself if you said you weren’t feeling a bit uneasy about going to pick up your car alone, the conversation you had had with the mechanic, Martin, when you dropped it off still fresh in your mind.

Pete was unable to take you, having to coach a practice after work, and your sister was taking Jack to it and staying to watch since she always missed so many, leaving you to take the tube over to Millwall to deal with it on your own.

You assured yourself over and over that it would be fine and that you were probably reading into things too much, but still the way he had mentioned knowing Steve and Pete and claiming to be old mates with them wasn’t sitting right with you. With work being so busy this week, you had completely forgotten to mention it to Pete, and you cursed yourself for failing to bring it up when you had checked with him again that morning if he was sure he couldn’t get someone else to coach for him.

As the stops to Millwall grew closer and closer, you did your best not to dwell, reading the book you brought with you while your leg bounced up and down unconsciously, your eyes scanning over the same paragraph again and again without being able to absorb the words.

“Alright, good job, lads!” Pete shouted after blowing his whistle, signaling the end of their practice.

He held the bag open for them to toss their soiled jerseys in, laughing at all their comments to each other and how supportive they all were of their teammates.

“Eh, Jack, will you help me gather up the pylons?” he asked when your nephew had made it over to him in the queue of rowdy boys.

As Pete knew he would, Jack happily jogged around the pitch and collected the majority of them, saving Pete and his leg the trouble of going to do it all himself.

“Cheers, mate,” Pete thanked him, ruffling his hair as he walked with him over to where his mum stood waiting.

“Great practice, love!” She praised her son, then smiled at Pete as Jack worked at untying his cleats and taking off his shin guards. “Reckon she’ll be back from Millwall soon, then?” she said, glancing at the watch on her wrist.

“Millwall?” Pete asked, his face screwed up at the mention of his rivaled district.

“Yeah, that’s where the mechanic is she took her car to.”

“What’s the garage called?” he questioned, an urgency present in his voice as he reached in the pocket of his jacket for his phone.

“I don’t know, I didn’t look when I had dropped her off and she never mentioned it…is everything okay?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Pete lied, trying to settle the rising panic he felt inside him at the thought of the garage you took your car to for repairs being Tommy fucking Hatcher’s.

He hit the button to dial your number and held it up to his ear, pacing as he listened to ring after ring before the sound of your voice came through, his heart falling when it was only your voicemail picking up.

“Fuck-” he hissed, hanging up before redialling, praying you would pick up and tell him you weren’t alone at Tommy’s garage.

The bell that chimed when the door opened sounded ominous tonight as you stepped through it, the smell of oil and exhaust fumes hitting your nose heavily, the distant sound of the radio and tools clanking against metal filling the otherwise quiet shop.

Your car was parked out front, seemingly ready to drive off in, and you hoped to settle the bill and get your keys quickly so you could make your way back to see Pete, wanting this day and especially this exchange to be over and done with.

Glancing through the window that looked into the garage from where the little waiting area was, you could see Martin bent over the bonnet of a car, and behind him, a small office where who you assumed was the owner sat at his desk.

When neither man noticed your presence, you stepped through into the bay, careful your heels didn’t slip on the greasy floor.

The man in his office finally caught sight of you, grinning with a somewhat villainous smile that split his hardened features, and you thought no matter how friendly he tried to appear, there was something about him that seemed impossible to soften.

“Hello, love,” he greeted, his voice matching his looks.

“Hi, sorry,” you stammered, “I’m just here to get my car.” You hooked your thumb and pointed over your shoulder in the direction of where it sat outside, planting your feet firmly on the cement floor while doing your best to stand tall and confident.

“Yeah, not a problem, I’ve got the paperwork all here for ya,” he explained, standing from his chair and turning to reach for some papers from the filing cabinet behind him.

Martin nodded as you walked past him to enter the office, giving you a curt ‘Evening,’ as you smiled weakly in return.

The man seemed to fill the entire space of his office, his form tall and broad, his personality giving off a powerful air that made you feel somewhat suffocated.

There were empty beer bottles on his desk, and scattered across the walls and cabinets that took up nearly every square inch of the small room were various pieces of Millwall F.C. paraphernalia.

“You a fan?” he asked, catching you looking at the poster of the crest hung on the wall beside him.

“Erm, no, I don’t really pay attention to football all that much,” you lied, the realization that this man was clearly a huge supporter of the club that was Pete’s sworn enemy making you want to avoid the topic altogether.

“No?” he questioned, his head tilting to the side as another vicious smile revealed his teeth. “Not even a fan of the mighty Hammers?”

The way he said it made your blood turn cold, and you swallowed thickly, thinking how Martin must have discussed your affiliation to West Ham United through knowing Pete and Steve, and you wondered if these men were members of Millwall’s infamous firm.

You shook your head and huffed out a false laugh, reaching into your purse for your wallet.

“No,” you repeated, hoping he didn’t press his inquiry any further.

Clearing your throat to ensure your words came out properly, you started filing through the stack of notes you had taken out of the bank that morning, counting out what you had been told the total was going to be for the repairs.

“It was £450, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right,” he confirmed, watching as you placed the money on his desk, folding his arms across his chest.

“You sure you aren’t running about and singing along to ‘Forever Blowing fucking Bubbles’ then?”

You scoffed, trying your best to look like you hadn’t heard or even sang that song more times than you could count since meeting Pete.

“Ah, I see,” he said, slowly. “So you’re going to lie right to my face and tell me you’re not Pete Dunham’s missus, are ya?”

You almost choked, words unable to form on your tongue that felt too big for your mouth, the air in your lungs feeling trapped while everything around you started to distort as a dizziness overcame you.

“How…how do you know that?”

He pointed his finger at you, his lips still curled into a smile. “See, I knew you were lying to me, you little slag.”

You stepped back as he walked around his desk, his blue eyes icy with an evil you had never seen before.

“Don’t you think you’re going anywhere anytime soon, love,” he grinned, sitting on the edge of his desk as he nodded behind you. “Martin there hates your little boy toy just as much as I do, so he won’t be letting you run past him too easily either.”

You kept still, taking in as deep a breath as you could, closing your eyes briefly to gain some courage as you thought of which of the many questions racing through your mind to ask next.

“How do you know who I am?” your voice squeaked out, unable to hide your fear.

He shrugged his shoulders and frowned, “I get people to find things out for me.”

“Right, I’d just like to get my keys and leave, I don’t want any trouble-”

“You’re missing the fucking point, here!” he shouted, cutting you off. “Didn’t little Petey warn you about me?”

You shook your head again, confused as to who this man even was to Pete. “No, I-”

“Was he too afraid to come with you, not man enough to protect you?”

He stood from his desk, walking closer to you until you were face to face and your back was pressed against a cabinet, leaving you nowhere to escape.

“Is the taste of death still too fresh for him?” he laughed, clearly amused in seeing you put it all together.

“You’re-”

“Yeah, that’s right, darling,” he cooed, his face so close to yours you could smell the stale beer and smoke on his putrid breath. “I’m Tommy Hatcher. The man who nearly wiped out the Dunham name.”

He seemed so proud of it, like the memory was something he revisited often, and you felt sick knowing you were standing vulnerable at the hands of the man who almost killed the one you couldn’t live without.

“It’s funny, innit? That out of all the garages in London to get your car fixed, you came to mine.”

His finger jabbed into your chest with each word, making you recoil to try to make space between you, only to press yourself harder into the cabinet.

“You’re vile,” you spat, shoving your arm against his chest to push him away from you, only to have him come back stronger and closer than before.

He gripped your chin with his meaty hand, his fingers digging into your skin so hard it made you yelp.

“I’ve been watching you for weeks now. You should really pay more attention to your surroundings, love,” he warned, the pleasure he took in this written all over his grisly face. “How’s that nephew of yours, by the way?”

Bile rose up your throat at the idea of him getting to Jack and causing him harm, the lengths this horrible, soulless man would go to to make anyone he hated suffer having no limit.

“He seems like a good lad,” he whispered, his mouth hovering beside your ear where his hot breath made your skin crawl and you squirm in his grasp. “It’d be a fucking shame if he didn’t make it past his twelfth birthday just like my son didn’t.”

“You wouldn’t!” you cried, trying to move your legs enough to kick him, only to have his body lean harder into yours to stop you.

“See, you’re forgetting what I’m capable of. How easy it was to drive that bottle into Stevie’s neck and how much fucking joy I got breaking Petey’s body until he was lifeless on the ground.”

His grip tightened on your face as his eyes scanned over you, and despite your efforts to not let it happen, tears sprang from your eyes at the description of him trying to kill Pete.

“Don’t think it wouldn’t be hard to do the same thing to you or that little boy.”

With all the strength you had, you pushed against him, hitting him as hard as you could in his stomach while stomping hard on his foot, but Tommy was too strong, slamming you back into the cabinet so the handle drove into your ribs and all the air in your lungs was knocked out of you.

He laughed in your face, locking his forearm across your neck to keep you in place, your struggle to breathe seeming to satisfy him.

“I could do anything I wanted to you right now and no one would know or be able to stop me,” he bragged, growing more aroused with the power he held over you.

He ground himself against you, making you feel his hardness through his trousers, the possibility of you actually being sick between that and the lack of oxygen becoming more and more likely.

“It’s funny, you've got the same look of terror in your eyes as he did right before I smashed his fucking face in!” he pointed out, his laughter ringing through the room like you had just shared a joke together.

Within a split second his demeanor changed again, glaring at you seriously as his voice quieted and turned calm.

“See, I could rape you, ruin you so he’d never want to touch you again...”

You let out a broken sob, your eyes screwing shut when you felt his other hand travel slowly down your waist until he reached your thighs, stopping when he spoke again.

“But it’s lucky for you I’m a changed man.”

Tommy loosened the force of his arm against your neck, backing away from you slightly, and ran a hand over his hair to regain some composure.

“Don’t wanna be stuck in the nick again over someone as pitiful as you and your precious Petey!” he barked, adjusting himself in his pants crudely while you shook against the cold, metal cabinet.

He reached for something on his desk, turning around and quickly throwing your keys at your face where they missed and hit you hard in the chest, making you jump and cry out which only made him howl a maniacal laugh.

“Go on, you shitcunt,” he spat, “go home to Petey and cry all about it to him!”

You stooped and grabbed your keys off the grimy floor with a trembling hand, bolting out the door as fast as your legs would carry you, the sound of his and Martin’s laughter chasing you out of the building where you pressed the button to unlock your car as quickly as possible.

The tears didn’t come until you were out of the lot and onto the road, the lights from passing cars blurry and blinding as you finally let out wracking sobs, unaware of how fast you were going or which roads you were turning down, getting as far away from Tommy Hatcher as you could the only thing on your mind.

---

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[kiszka-jake]

Chapter 4: Road Not Taken

Chapter 4

Katie’s POV- November 2017

“Slow down, why are we running?” Jake slurred. I stopped in the middle of the deserted campus and spun around to face him.

“God, you don’t even see what you’ve turned into,” I felt the tears welling up in my eyes as he just stood there staring at me, “The old you would’ve hugged me and tried to make me feel better. You wouldn’t insult my friends, make a fool of yourself and flirt with other girls in front of me.” 

He didn’t respond to me but took out a cigarette and lit it. He closed his eyes and blew the smoke up to the dark night sky before he answered me. 

“Maybe you’re the one who’s changed. I’m doing what I always wanted to do and you can’t even be happy for me.” 

“I’ve done nothing but support you. I go to your shows, I let your fans be mean to me and never say anything. I let you forget about me for days on end.” I tried to slow my breathing as I watched him take in what I said. 

He started laughing quietly and got louder as he spun around on the walkway. He shook his head and let out one last laugh before facing me. 

“Do you hear yourself? I didn’t insult your friends tonight, but they’re all douche bags that think they’re better than me because they go to Harvard. I just toured Europe, and released an EP that people love. And our fans would never be mean to you,” He ended with an eye roll and a look of disbelief that I would even say that. “They always ask me about you. They’re just jealous.” 

The tears were rolling freely down my face as I answered, “So I have to be okay with mean comments to my face? And rude messages? I mean yeah who wouldn’t be jealous of me? I have a drunk boyfriend that ignores me.” 

His beautiful face was contorted into anger. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe the words I was saying. “You could’ve been with me this whole time. We could be living this dream together. As a family.” His face hardened when he said the last sentence and his eyes locked onto mine.

I stood frozen in place as the wind whipped my hair all around. “Is that what this is about? You’re still holding onto that decision we made in high school? Don’t forget we made it together.” I tried to say it with conviction even though my heart felt like it was going to physically break. 

He matched my silence for a moment before answering. “You were the one who wanted to get an abortion. How could I tell you I didn’t want that?”

My knees buckled with the weight of his words. There it was. The thing we avoided. The thing we never discuss anymore. “I think you’re really drunk and saying things you don’t mean right now.” I turned to keep walking back to my dorm, but his hand reached out to stop me.

“Why do you think I drink all the time? Maybe I’m trying to forget my biggest regret in life. I can’t talk to anyone about it because you made me swear I wouldn’t tell. I didn’t even tell Josh because that’s what you wanted, but you’ve never brought it up again. You just wanted to come to this school so bad, but I could’ve taken care of us. I have a record deal, but I should have a family too. You took that away from us.” I could hear the pain he was trying to hide in his voice. The pain I didn’t even know he still had. 

I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to blink back the tears clouding my vision. “Why would we still talk about it? We were seventeen, and I thought we moved on. If this is the reason you’ve been like this, you could’ve talked to me.” I whispered. 

He looked at me with pity and kept the distance between us. “How could you not realize it was hurting me again? You didn’t notice how it hurts me every time someone brings their little kid to our shows? You think I’m fucking heartless like you apparently are?” His words were laced with a venom that was meant to poison our love. 

I started backing up down the sidewalk,”I think we should just talk about this tomorrow morning when you’re sober.” I spat out between sobs. 

He didn’t even care that his words were like a knife to my chest. He just stood there staring at me with that stupid cigarette in his mouth. My tears didn’t impact him at all. 

He cocked his head to the side and opened his mouth to twist the knife more.”What’s the point?” 

I stayed silent and let him continue. 

“We can’t change the past. We’ve just been trying to outrun it this whole time.” 

He paused for a moment like he was going to take it all back and apologize. His face flashed back to the kind boy I used to know. But then he opened his mouth to break my heart for the final time. 

“We’re done.” 

I felt my sadness being replaced by a rush of anger as he turned to walk away. My voice came out loud as I yelled after him, ”You really think we could’ve raised a baby on a tour bus? You wouldn’t have any of this. We’d be stuck in Michigan with nothing.” 

He turned back around to face me and looked at me like he pitied me. “It would’ve been fine. We would’ve made it work.” 

I rolled my eyes at his flippant response. Of course he would say that. He thinks everything can work out now just because people adore him and he has help for everything. 

“So what you mean is it would’ve been okay for me to give up my dreams, but you wouldn’t have given up yours.” I said it with all the anger I had left in me, “Didn’t you say you were happy for me when I got in here?” I waved my hand around to gesture at the campus. 

He nodded his head and eyed all the buildings surrounding us. He dropped his cigarette on the cobblestone and shoved his hands in his coat pockets before answering me. “And you believed me? You’re pretty stupid for being so smart.” 

He gave me once last glance before turning around and walking away. 

Katie’s POV- October 2023

It’s only 8pm and Lyla was already asleep after wearing herself out at her birthday party. I pulled the blankets over her and quietly slipped off the bed when I heard a tap against the window. I paused in the doorway and heard the noise again. I walked to the window, pulled the blinds back and saw Jake standing in the backyard with a fistful of pebbles he grabbed from my dad’s garden. 

“What the fuck?” I silently mouthed at him. He threw the pebbles in the grass and gestured for me to come down. He can’t take the hint to leave me alone. I hurried downstairs, grabbed my dad’s sweatshirt hanging by the screen door and  stepped onto the back porch. He was in the same outfit from earlier with no jacket on to protect him from the cold night air blowing around us. He was leaning over the railing with his back to me, and he didn’t even turn around to acknowledge my presence. 

“My parents are out to dinner with my aunt. You could’ve just knocked on the door.” I said to his back while shifting my weight around to stay warm. 

He ignored my statement and kept looking out at the yard when he finally spoke in a flat and even tone like he had rehearsed what he wanted to say. 

“Six minutes and thirty two seconds.” 

I turned his words over in my head to try to make sense of them. He pushed off the railing and turned around to look at me. The glow of the moon highlighted the beautiful angles of his face. 

“That’s how long it takes to drive from my house to yours. I started counting the seconds in kindergarten when we had our first play date. I knew no matter what happened that I could be here in six minutes and thirty two seconds.” He reached his hand into his shirt pocket and pulled out a joint. He stood on my porch and lit it while I took in his words. 

He exhaled a cloud of smoke and continued,“Then you moved to Boston and I was still here, but it was okay,” his voice cracked and he took a beat to stare at the moon, “because I knew I could get a flight and be there in an hour and fifty four minutes.” He turned to lock eyes with me and walked a step closer while I stayed firmly planted. 

“Then I started to leave here and you were still there. But that was okay too because every time I got to a different city, I would find the fastest flight to Boston and know I could still get to you.”

He sighed and took another long drag from his joint. He threw it on the porch and rubbed his boot on it to put it out. He walked down the steps to stand in the grass and look up at the stars.

I felt the weight of all of his words sinking in. The small ways he thought about me that I had no idea about. I started to open my mouth to respond when he started talking again. His voice was filled with more desperation and panic now like he needed to get everything out. 

“Then we had that stupid fight and I had too much pride to chase after you and apologize. I was 21 and I thought I was a rockstar. I thought I didn’t need you,” I saw the pain from that night so long ago resurfacing on his face. It all comes back to that night for us, “I still have the last text I ever sent you on my phone. I don’t think about it everyday anymore, but in the back of my mind I still know it’s there.”

He pulled his phone out and scrolled all the way down and flipped it around to show me. He still had the phone facing me when he began reciting it. 

“It’s midnight here in California. We play Coachella this week and I wish you were with me. You’re only 8 hours and 23 minutes away if you catch the next flight. I hope you’re thinking of me too.” He slid the phone back in his pocket and stared at me with glistening eyes. 

“And I waited for you to see it. I figured you were asleep, but then it was the morning and you still didn’t answer. I think I knew then that I had lost you forever.” He turned away from me and ran his hands through his long hair. 

I walked down the steps to stand next to him in the grass. “I never got that text.” I whispered to him, “I blocked your number because I was making myself sick hoping you’d call me after that night. I had to block you to move on.” 

He chuckled to himself and smiled kindly at me. “I should’ve figured that out.” He said. The moon was shining down on a us like a spotlight as we stood awkwardly together with the past still between us. He turned suddenly and reached a hand out towards my face. He brushed a piece of hair out of my eyes and let his hand linger. 

“I came to say all of that because I had to get it out. It’s been in me for 5 years and I needed to let it go in case I never see you again.” He dropped his hand and searched my face for an answer, “I can’t change what I said back then, but I’d really like to try and show you how sorry I am. Five bad minutes and I ruined everything” He said it all with a hint of sadness like he knew it wouldn’t be enough for me. 

I needed to hear his words just as much as he needed to say them. I wanted to fall into his arms and scream out how much I forgave him for everything. I would do it, if there wasn’t a secret between us. A secret that he doesn’t even know is between us from a night he doesn’t remember. 

“Mommy?” Her small voice broke through my thoughts and I turned to see Lyla standing on the porch with Jake’s stuffed dog in her hands again.”You left me.” She said it with a frown and a glance at Jake. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Go back inside and I’ll tuck you in again.” I called to her from my spot in the grass. She rubbed her tired eyes and yawned as she went back inside. I watched until her shadow faded before I looked back at Jake. 

I put a hand on his chest and let my fingers slide over to his exposed skin. “I have a lot to say, but you know it’s complicated and I have to go.” He put his hand over mine as I finished my sentence. 

“My offer for tomorrow still stands. Please come.” He stepped closer to me and leaned in like he was going to kiss me. He gently placed his lips on my cheek and let it linger for a second. He pulled away and slowly dropped my hand as he walked back to the front of the house. 

I was frozen in the same spot until I heard his jeep pulling out of the driveway. I went back inside to find Lyla already back asleep with Mr.Scruffy cradled in her arms. My phone vibrated on my nightstand and I looked down to see a new text from an unknown number. 

Got a new number last year, so don’t block this one too. I’m heading to Detroit now. You’ll only be an hour and thirty seven minute drive away. 

••••••••••

Sorry this one is a little shorter! It was needed to unlock another piece of their puzzle. I really love this one, hope you like!!

tag list: @fleetingjake @sammysstolenbirks @hollyco

[nekohime19]

Bimawen # 4 : Peach Festival

It's time for the peach festival, the monkeys are way more honest when they're drunk.

Really this fic has a hold over me cause I wasn't expecting to update this fast after chap 3 but here we are. Guess I was motivated by the comments 😭. Like please those monkeys are taking over my life.

Wukong wasn't one to care about the eyes boring into his flesh, judging every inch of his imperfect skin and branding him as they saw fit. Some people spend their lifetime worrying about what other thoughts of their body. Changing every deemed flaw to fit the misconception of beauty. Were they ever satisfied by their own flesh? No. Of course not. Beauty was as changing as the tides. It never stayed the same. He scorned it. It didn't mean he didn’t find beauty in himself, quite the contrary in fact. But the only beauty that ever mattered for him was the one residing in his eyes. He found his sharp fangs appealing, they protruded from his lips like daggers, the luster of danger gliding upon them. He liked them. Others found them distasteful. He couldn't tell how much he caught the wandering gazes of constellations falling upon his fangs with a hint of disgust. They found bestilaity unbecoming of the Region Above. Sun Wukong didn't care. So why should he care about his attire for the upcoming Peach festival of the Lady Queen Mother?

As always, the Jade Emperor sent him a lavish robe confined within cloths of gold. A prayer, perhaps, that he would show up with a dignified attire, or at least something they found dignified. They tried each year to mold his appearances as they saw fit. As if he was made of clay. Fragile enough to be bent at will. Each year they failed. Sun Wukong was made of the sturdiest of stones. He was unmoving. The bimawen huffed the second he saw the robe and threw it in his cabinet depth. He despised being constricted. And the robe's heavy jewelry was anything but freeing. It didn't even have room for his tail. Truly preposterous!

He would go in his wrinkled red-robe, and they'd deal with it; they had no choice if they didn't want to fan the flames of his temper.

Sun Wukong looked up at the moon peeking from the corner of his room's window. The hour of the pig was at its end. The moon at its highest. Usually, he would be dead to the world at such an hour. He wasn't one to stay up late. But the robe sent by the Emperor angered him so much that he struggled to find sleep. What could he do to ease the lava flows raging in his veins? Perhaps, the saccharine sweetness of a peach could ease him. But, oddly enough, he didn't feel like eating a peach. Sun Wukong raked his mane in thoughts, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Then, a bolt of an idea struck him.

An amused smirk bloomed on the edge of his lips, as innocent as the first spring daisies, as dangerous as the blood-red tulips. He jumped on his windowsill and shifted. It was an odd feeling to sense his body changing. To feel his bones and flesh moves to accommodate his wish. Magic worked in mysterious ways. And despite living for eons, Wukong still didn't quite understand it. Perhaps it was meant to not be understood. Perhaps it would lose its attractiveness if all its mysteries were unveiled.

His body shrinked and grew feathers, wings sprouted on his back and took him higher in the dark sky. Soon, his form was replaced by the one of a songbird. The view from above was a marvel on its own. Landscapes flooded from every corners, lis of green filled lands kindly caressed by the moon pale light. Somehow, it felt different to fly as a bird than to run on the sky with the herd, or even to drift on the winds with his cloud. He was much closer to the winds like this. More than flying, it felt like swimming. Like plunging in an invisible ocean where one wrong wing beat could send him to the deadlier currents. It was more dangerous. He liked it.

Sun Wukong flew for a few minutes until he reached the edges of a lush forest. He dove down without any hesitation and skillfully slithered in the intricate web of branches. He settled on a pine-tree branch and looked down at the running river. His eyes swept off the place until he found a familiar figure. As expected, his assistant was at it again tonight. The bimawen let out a chirp of amusement and leaned closer, his wings fluttering at each of his hops. The first time he caught the black-furred monkey outside, it was because he got tired of waiting for him and decided to check where he holed himself. He took the form of a bird to be faster and to not be recognized. After all, he would appear too soft if he was caught searching for his assistant only because he was late on the job. The experience had been quite embarrassing. He would never admit how good it felt to be scratched under his chin. Did he think about it when he laid in his bed at night? Yes. Would he ever admit craving the touch? No. He decided to never repeat this embarrassing moment again, yet his curioisy won him over and he found himself flying towards the river without any seconds thoughts.

One night of observing turned into two, then three. This was the fourth night he watched Mengai fish, and somehow he couldn't get enough of the show. Was it the excitement of the sport that thrilled him so much? He couldn't say for sure. But it was pretty entertaining. Especially the moment Mengai dived in the water to claw out the fish. His wins filled Wukong with primal excitement, and his losses were hilarious to behold. Nothing was funnier than the pout on his lips when he failed. Perhaps, it was simply the hunt in itself that thrilled him. Wukong had never been very good at hunting. His regime was mainly made of fruits. So except if you considered picking peaches a task worthy of being called a hunt (even if he could admit that some peaches were particularly difficult to pick) he wasn't a born hunter.

Mengai managed to catch three fishes. Wukong chirped, he hopped on the branch to chase the excitement building in his lil body. As always, the black-furred monkey heard him. Curse his six-ears. The macaque looked up above him, a flicker of recognition ignited in his eyes the moment he caught sight of Wukong.

“Oh you're back.” Hummed Mengai, his face lacking the awkwardness of fakeness he showed when Wukong was in his true form. He offered his arm with a stiff smile. Perhaps the monkey was as nervous as him when it came to interactions, not that Wukong would ever admit that he was sometimes nervous about such matters. The bimawen hesitated. He never approached Mengai in his bird form since their first time. He didn't want to act like a needy puppy again. Yet some part of him was intrigued. It wasn't like he liked the pet, they were nice, but Wukong was above such mortal cravings. He was only doing this because Mengai looked like he was dying to pet him. Yes. He was doing Mengai a favor. Moreover, if he let the other monkey pet him for a few seconds, perhaps he could get a piece of grilled fish? Not that he yearned for grilled fish. But it would be nice. It smelled nice enough.

Wukong hopped off of the branch and perched himself on Mengai's arm. He pawed at the linen robe for a few seconds, finding his bearings, and then he hopped on the monkey's shoulder. It was the most comfortable place to be. His assistant waited for him to be settled, then he began to gently caress his feathered belly with the back of his finger. Wukong stayed quiet. It wasn't horrible. He closed his eyes, lulled by the gentle back and forth of the finger. The pesky monkey then began to scratch under his chin. Wukong chittered in surprise. Oh. It felt very good…. The bimawen managed to catch himself before he could get lost in the tantalizing feeling of being scratched. No. No. He couldn't be controlled by this witchcraft! This was preposterous. He nipped at Mengai's bold fingers. How dare he bewitch him with chin scratches? How outrageous of him! Nobody could bewitch this bimawen!

The macaque yelped in surprise and removed his fingers from Wukong's chin. “You're a violent bird.” Mumbled Mengai as he rubbed his fingers, he threw a cautious glance at Wukong and decided to stop petting him for now. Wukong huffed in satisfaction. Another victory for him. Mengai took his fishes and put them on a flat stone. Two salmons and one carp. He raked his rusty knife on one of the salmon skin, removing the scale, and then cut the belly in half to remove the guts. The stench wasn't good. But it was fascinating in a way to see Mengai's expertise. The knife flowed in his hands. Like the ribbon of a dancer. Once the fishes were salted and ready, he put them on spikes and prepared a fire.

Wukong watched the fishes grill with rapt attention. The flames licked their skins, darkening it deliciously. He gulped. Saliva accumulating on the tip of his tongue. If he had to choose between meat and fruits, he would always choose fruit. But he couldn't deny that Mengai's fishes had a certain appeal to them. He wouldn't mind one bite. Just to taste it, of course. Monkeys were curious creatures after all.

His assistant took one of the salmon once it was ready and sank his fangs in the juicy flesh with glee. The macaque ate in a very animalistic way. When he was alone at least. Wukong didn't know how Mengai ate around someone, in fact, his assistant always made sure to eat alone. Perhaps he was embarrassed of his way of eating? Or he didn't want to show any weaknesses. Either way, Wukong was left to watch him devour the fish til nothing was left. He gulped. His own hunger rising. The songbird hopped closer to Mengai's head and nipped at his ears.

He wanted a bite!

The macaque hissed and shooed the bird away. But Wukong wasn't one to be discouraged so easily. He hopped closer again and lightly nipped at the soft ears. It was quite funny to nip at them. They fluttered under his beak like the wings of a butterfly. Occasionally hitting his lil face. He liked the feeling. It was like being hit by feathers. He could do this all day if the other let him. But as it was he was a generous boss, and he knew it could be uncomfortable to have his ears being nipped at all day.

He was truly such a magnanimous boss!

Mengai glared at the bird, Wukong chittered innocently, head tilted to the side. The black-furred monkey sighed, he then approached the grilled fish to the pesky songbird. Wukong chirped in excitement, his wings flapping around to show his glee. Mengai sighed, he cut a lil piece of fish and gave it to the songbird. Wukong chittered happily, he took the piece of fish and gulped it down greedily.

Ah. Fuck. It was really good. Wukong almost groaned in pleasure. But the piece was too small. He wanted more. He nipped at the soft ears again.

“Oh my Gods, you're really a glutton.” Groaned Mengai, but he gave in anyway. In the end, Wukong gulped down a whole fish. The black-furred monkey laid down on the soft grass, arms folded behind his head. He didn't close his eyes. Too afraid to wake up late again. Wukong hopped on Mengai's chest and settled there. He tuck his wings around his body and put his head on his back, he then closed his eyes. Mengai's chest was quite comfortable. The sound of the river was lulling and the moonlight fell upon them like blessed raindrops, and most of all, Wukong had a bully full of delicious fishes. He could fall asleep like this.

Unfortunately, as he started to doze off, Mengai sat up and disturbed his well-deserved rest. Wukong chittered in indignation, how dare he wake him up like this? “Sorry, birdie. But I gotta go back. Don't want to be late again. I don't want the bimawen to get mad.” Sighed the black-furred monkey, he patted the bird's head and began to tidy up the place. Wukong huffed, he wasn't going to be mad for something so small…. maybe. Once he made sure his fire was put out, Mengai stretched and left the forest. Wukong watched him until his figure was nothing but a dot in the horizon. Then, he ruffled his feathers and flew back to the mansion.

He turned back to his original form once he reached his windowsill and collapsed on his wooden bed. All this moving and eating tired him. He closed his eyes and let the night lull him again. Finding the stern face of Zhou Gong in his dream. Wukong smiled in his slumber, if the dream god himself went to visit his night, then tomorrow could only be a good day.

***

Wukong woke up at the hour of the dragon. He laid idle on his bed, sunlight pouring on his still figure, bathing him in light. He liked to be slow in the morning. He had nothing to do until the hour of the horse. And he liked that. He ordered peaches, as he used to, and his clones scattered to satisfy his wishes. He frowned when he received the bottom of his peach barrels. The fruits weren't spoiled. But they were deformed by the weight of the other peaches, their colors dimmed by the long time they spent confined without being touched by the sun.

“We're at the end of our batch.” Explained the clone that handed the barrel. Wukong sighed. He'll have to visit his personal orchard again.

“Notify the clones working at the orchard that we'll be harvesting soon.” The clone nodded and scrambled to obey, running towards one of the messenger clones residing in the mansion. Wukong knew his clones had created quite the system in-between them. They gave themselves very specific jobs, creating webs of intricate designs all linked together in a functioning collective mass. A working society not unlike a beehive. He wasn't aware of all the intricacies of the clones’ management, but he knew some things or two.

Wukong went back and forth in three different places : the stables, his mansion and the orchard, which his clones called the Three Departments. Each department had its own Head Clone, or Head Director, who oversaw all matters related to the place and assured the smooth sailing of all his wishes. Then, they were the Six Ministries, each led by three Ministers (one for each department) scattered in the three different places.

There was :

The ministry of communication, charged to ensure the procession of his orders within a department but also in-between them.

The ministry of cleaning, charged to tidy his mansion up, clean the horse stalls and exterminate the pests in his orchard.

The ministry of care, charged of health, horse care and the growth of his peach seedlings, as well as the removal of the dying trees.

The ministry of watch, charged to guard one department and catch any thieves or threats lingering around.

The ministry of food and water, charged of everything related to nourishing, either it be horses, monkeys or plants.

The minister of refill, charged to always check the warehouse and see if something needs to be refilled. Perhaps, in hay, in seeds, or in anything else.

It was a very structural system, but as long as it worked they could have fun with their little imitation of the San Sheng Liu Bu. Wukong didn't mind.

The bimawen took a bite of his peach and reclined on his bed, he looked at the sun peeking from his window and watched it rise. The Lady Queen Mother festival began at the hour of the rooster. He didn't have the need to prepare himself, so he could get there following his usual after-work bath. He felt excited at the mere thoughts of the immortal peaches and the luxurious heavenly wine. It was going to be delightful! Maybe Mengai will want to come too? Wukong had to ask him about it. He didn't know if the black-furred monkey was comfortable going out around the other gods, if he didn't want to come he could stay here with the clones.

Wukong finally got up once the sun was high and bright. He brushed his unruly mane and put his futou on, then he left his room and went to the front door. Mengai was already waiting for him. He was much more punctual since Wukong scolded him for being late. Guess he learned his lesson.

“Let's go, today is care day.” Sung Wukong as he kicked his door open. He kicked it so often the mark of his foot was imbued in the wood.

“What's care day?” Carefully asked Mengai as he went after him. As always, each of his steps were as silent as a ghost. He reminded Wukong of a shadow at times.

“It's horse health day. We check if everything is okay then we pamper them.” The black-furred monkey's long tail twitched nervously. He was still not that comfortable with the horses. Wukong found his fear unreasonable, his horses weren't that scary, but he wasn't scared of many things to begin with so maybe he shouldn't compare. “I'll do most of the care, you'll just observe and learn.” Ordered Wukong. Mengai breathed a quiet sigh of relief and his tail stopped twitching. Wukong smiled, satisfied.

When they reached the stables, Wukong immediately snatched a bucket with a brush, a claw-sharpener and a wetted cloth inside. Most of the stalls were cleaned already and some of the clones already checked a few of the horses. The great sage nodded, satisfied, and entered one of the stalls on the right, Mengai on his trail. Bean, a cream colored pregnant mare was inside. She perked up at their arrival and heigned at Wukong, happy to see him.

“Hey there bud, how are you today?” He petted her head, softly caressing her mane. He was always more delicate with weakened horses. Her foaling was soon, so he always made sure to check her often. He was quite excited for her foal ! It would be the first one since eons. Dragon-horses pregnancy lasted long and were few and rare. Not to mention he liked dragon-horse foals. Their mane was incredibly fluffy and their scales as bright as the sun. Of course, the only downside was the amount of paperwork following the birth of a foal but he could do it. It was worth it if he could cuddle with a foal.

Wukong checked Bean all over, giving some explanations to Mengai now and then. Everything from her regime, to her weight, to the possible parasites, to her less exercised day. The black-furred monkey asked some questions now and then but he stayed mostly quiet, his ears flickering like butterfly's wings as he soaked up all the informations like a sponge. Wukong then began to clean and brush Bean. He weaved lil braids in her mane (he knew she liked it) and made her scales shines with a younger luster. The bimawen then created a stool and began to sharpen Bean's claws. He cut in the sharp nail, carving in the bright white. Brushing aside the rubbles when it fell on her paws.

“Oh by the way, the Peach Festival is happening today, you wanna come?” Asked Wukong as he finished pampering Bean. He kissed her forehead and patter her head one last time before moving to another stall.

“The Peach Festival?” Repeated the black-furred monkey with furrowed eyebrows. Wukong snorted at his dumb face. What a Mengmeng. He was almost tempted to touch the space in-between his eyebrows to smooth over the wrinkle forming there.

“It's the Lady Queen Mother party. There will be wine and immortal peaches.”

“Oh.” Chirped Mengai with interest. His tail betraying his excitement by curling on itself. “But… I don't think the other gods will be glad to see me.”

“You're under my wing now, you Mengmeng. Nobody is gonna mess with you.” Assured Wukong with a flick of wrist. Truly who will even dare pick a fight with one of his assistant? No-one here was brave enough to do this.

“I have nothing to wear… I don't want to be impolite.” Wukong raised an eyebrow, he didn't think Mengai was the type to be conscious of the other's gaze. Guessed he thought wrong.

“I'll give you the ugly robe the Jade Emperor gave me.” Snorted Wukong. “I'll leave just before the hour of the rooster. You wait for me at the front door if you wanna come.”

Mengai slowly nodded, his eyes cloaked over by numerous thoughts. Wukong huffed. Really this guy always overthought everything. The bimawen had headaches from just looking at him. “Don't hurt your head, Mengmeng. Focus on the horses.” Sighed Wukong as he flicked the worrier's forehead. Mengai glared at him fore a second, letting his true feelings shine through, before hiding everything under a plastic smile. What a funny guy. He thought he was fooling him with this poor act of submission.

Wukong went to other stalls, he pampered the horses and carefully checked their health. Dragon-horses rarely got badly sick, but it wasn't impossible either. As he was petting Mango and scratching behind his ears, Wukong threw a glance behind him and snorted at the sight that welcomed him. Mengai was leaning over the wall, his head stumbling in drowsiness, eyes tightly shut. The bimawen sighed and put his hands on his hips.

“This guy.” Huffed the blonde-furred monkey. It wasn't the first time Mengai slept on the job. Perhaps, fishing at night tired him too much. No matter. He couldn't let this type of behavior persist. Usually, he would pinch the other ears and scold him for a few minutes. But, seeing as it didn't seem to correct Mengai bad habits, perhaps he should do another type of punishment. A devious smile bloomed on his lips. Mango huffed in amusement when he saw his expression.

Oh, this was gonna be fun.

Wukong silently approached the sleeping monkey. He muffled his snorts in the heart of his palm to not wake the other up. He crouched down before the monkey and began to mess with his fur. He weaved silly braids on his chin and pulled two tiny pigtails on each side of his head. Wukong snickered, he flicked on one of the pigtail and it swung around before coming back to its place. Oh, that was funny. Wukong pawed at the pigtail for a bit before his eyes fell to the soft ears. He stared at them for a few seconds before letting his hands drop to them. His fingers grazed the appendages, the contact was small, yet it was enough for the ears to flutter. Wukong smiled. He bothered the fluffy appendages for a bit. Finding their frantic flaps amusing. He stopped when the black-furred monkey frowned. It would spoil his fun if he woke him up now.

Wukong rose and got out of the stall. He took a bucket and filled it with cold water. He then came back with the bucket in his arms. He approched Mengai with a huge smile and threw the water at him. The black-furred monkey woke up with a gasp, he squirmed around, fur glued to his body. Looking like a wet rat. Wukong bursted out laughing, tears nipping at the edge of his eyes. Mengai looked up at him and scowled. He wiped away the water obscuring his vision and sighed at the pigtails and braids he discovered in his fur. He unweaved them with a scowl on his lips.

Wukong wiped away his tears of laughter. “I told you many times, don't sleep on the job, you got what you deserved Mengmeng.” The macaque rolled his eyes discreetly and huffed. He looked like a bag of bones. He looked so weak, in fact, that Wukong wondered if a lil shower of cold water was enough to make him sick. He frowned at the thought. “Go home.”

“The hour of the monkey didn't began yet?” Asked Mengai with a raised eyebrow. It was true that usually Wukong sent Mengai home at the hour of the monkey, it was easier for him to remember. The bimawen averted his eyes and raked his brain for an excuse.

“I'm giving you some time to, huh, prepare yourself for the Peach Festival.” Coughed Wukong. Mengai didn't seem to buy his excuse, but he didn't question him. He nodded at Wukong and left the stall, some clones accompanied him home (Wukong told them to give Mengai the Jade Emperor ugly robe before they could leave). The bimawen followed his figure with his eyes until it disappeared from the stables. Once the black-furred monkey was gone Wukong sighed and turned towards Mango.

The stallion was giving him quite the deadpan stare.

“What? He seemed conscious of his appearances and all for the festival, I'm just giving him more time cause I'm a good boss.” He huffed with crossed arms. Mango narrowed his eyes. “Stop being a sassy horse, and give me your claws, you need sharpening.”

Wukong stayed in the stables for a few more hours. He checked the horses over and made sure that everything was alright. His clones assured him that they were all healthy and happy. Once he was satisfied, Wukong got back to his mansion and went to the baths. He removed his dirty robe and futou and threw them in a bamboo basket. He then leaped in the hot water and swam around. He liked to feel the water glide on his fur, it felt nice. The bimawen washed the sweat clinging to his fur and groomed himself, picking up the insects hiding in his hair. He spent a good amount of time in the bath, enjoying himself. Once he was soft and clean, he picked up a cleaner red robe and put it on. As much as he didn't care about his appearance, he didn't want to wear a mud robe either.

His futou was hanging on one side of his head, as always too little to contain his wild mane. Wukong leisurely walked to the front door and snorted at Mengai's appearances. The black-furred monkey put on the robe gifted by the Jade Emperor. It was a jade-green hanfu sewn with golden threads. Imagery of flying phoenixes were dancing at the hem of the robe. A belt of pearls was fastened on the waist and a heavy golden phoenix hairpin was thrown in his fur. The hanfu was a bit too large for him but it gave him a rather unique look, as if the silk cloth was flowing on his dark fur. The hairpin was too heavy though. It hung in his hair like a deadweight, the phoenix appearing more like a trapped butterfly than a noble bird. Wukong approached him and took the hairpin away from his hair.

“It's better without this.” He gave the decoration to a nearby clone. Mengai was surprised by the sudden gesture and seemed quite unhappy to part with the hairpin, there was a lust for gold in his eyes. Nonetheless, the bimawen wasn't letting his assistant go out with an ugly hairpin. No matter if it was made of gold.

They both left the mansion. Wukong summoned his cloud and lengthened it with some uncouth pats, once he was satisfied he settled on it and waited for Mengai to sit behind him. The black-furred monkey cautiously stepped on the cloud and sat in his shadow. The blonde-furred monkey then steered the cloud away and approached the less natural places of the Region Above. Quite soon, the quiet green-filled sceneries made places for a wildless loud land. The grass was replaced by marble paths, the rivers by golden roads, the hills by shimmering palaces and the meadows by glistening terraces. Not a trace of nature could be found in the marble world of the Jade Emperor, except perhaps for the shaped garden contained in narrow spaces. Wukong frowned. This wasn't a world he was used to. But at the same time, no matter if he didn't truly liked a marble covered world, he wasn't going to lead a war and change it. As long as he wasn't bothered, he would be as gentle as a fat cat. But if someone dared to poke him too hard, he would pounce like a lion.

Like every year, the Peach Festival was held in the Palace of the Jasper Pool, the Lady Queen Mother's very own treasure chamber. It was smaller than the Emperor's palace but it didn't lose in terms of beauty. It was made of fiery red stones that seemed to burn under the light of the sun. Lakes filled every corner of it, the water taking the same fiery hue as the walls due to the bottom made of jaspers. Sun Wukong leaped off his cloud once he was at the palace’s front door. Mengai followed his example with a nervous twitch of tail. Wukong barged in without any worries. He was used to this. The first time this festival was held, he wasn't invited, an awful error truly. He complained about it so much, going as far as to damage one part of the Palace of Jasper Pool, that he was invited the next year, and so on. The terrace was bathed in auspicious light, tables filled with delicacies and vases of hundred flowers were dressed before them. There were dragon livers and phoenix marrows, bear paws and the lips of apes. He scowled in disgust at the last one and decided to avoid it at all cost.

“Have fun.” Chuckled Wukong as he patted Mengai on the back. The black-furred monkey stumbled forward, breaking out of his stupor. The horse assistant looked around nervously with an excited glint in his eyes, then he lost himself in the crowds of spirits, probably to gorge himself on luxurious meat.

Wukong went for the wine first. He took a good jug of it directly from the barrel and gulped it down. Ah. Truly it was delicious. He spilled some on his robe and didn't care, red on red couldn't even be seen anyway.

“Ah bimawen. It's been a while since we saw you last.” Wukong turned around and was met face to face with the Three Pure Ones. Really. He was here for one minute and he was already being found by the highest divinities residing in the Region Above. The one who talked was Yuanshin Tianzun, the central figure of the Three Pure Ones.

“Your reverences.” Shortly saluted the blonde monkey. He wasn't one for noble pageantry. But still he wasn't going to address the Three Pure Ones with no titles. Yuanshin chuckled, his thin beard moving like a river of ink. He was good natured. A pity the mortals prefered the Jade Emperor and forgot to dedicate him a proper cult.

“You go for the wine, like always.” Snorted Daode Tianzun, another one of the Three Pure Ones. He was more known under the name Laozi. His hair was as white as the first snow of winter, and his earlobes hung till they touched his shoulders. He was way cheekier than the other two. A glint of cunning was swirling in his eyes.

“What can I say? The wine is just that good.” Shrugged Wukong as he took another jug of the precious drink. He exchanged pleasantries with the three higher deities, revealing in the gossip they heard, and snickering behind the back of others. Wukong was good at gossiping. And he liked it. It was always funny to learn that one high general was punished with the flesh of a pig for daring hitting on the moon goddess.

“The fool got what he deserved. Chang'e is loyal to her husband and still waits for him. It's disrespectful to try making advances to her.” Huffed Wukong as he gulped one more glass of wine. The alcohol was beginning to buzz his mind. He ought to eat something and balance it out.

“Indeed.” Nodded Lingbao Tianzun. His phoenix eyes sharpened like the tip of a blade, he was probably the most serious out of the three deities.

“Well, it was a pleasant catch up, but the peaches are calling my name.” Snorted Wukong as he finally put down his glass and looked around, he hummed in stadification once he caught sight of the baskets filled to the brim with immortal peaches.

“Of course, no one can stand between you and your peaches.” Snorted Yuanshin.

“But it would be good for you to check on your lil assistant, he might attract troubles.” Warned Laozi with an amused glint swirling in his eyes. Wukong frowned at the warning but before he could inquire more the three deities walked away, their long robes flowing in their wake. Wukong watched them retreat for a bit and then resumed his walk to the immortal peaches.

Laozi was just messing with him, thought the bimawen. Who would dare lay a hand on one of his people?

Wukong leaned over the peaches and chose the roundest. He eagerly sunk his fangs in the tender flesh. Immortal peaches tasted a lot better than normal peaches. It was like eating a cloud full of the freshest river water. Like having nature dance on your tongue. He could live with only immortal peaches and be satisfied with his life. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed people gathering at one particular place. The bimawen took some peaches in his arms and went to look at what was catching all this attention. He pushed past the people to find out what was going on, he was surprised to see his assistant in the ring created by the spirits. Erlang Shen was looming over Mengai, his third eye glinting with a passionate resolve. Wukong neve liked Erlang. He was too uptight. Too hellbent on his idea of justice, Wukong naturally clashed with him.

“I saw you do it.” Growled Erlang. Mengai nervously looked around and clutched his large sleeves of his hanfu tighter.

“You got a problem with my assistant, Erlang?” Asked Wukong as he entered the ring. The third-eyed god turned towards him and scowled.

“Bimawen.”He curtly saluted. “Your assistant stole something.”

“Do you have proof?” Questioned Wukong, he grabbed Mengai by the scurf and pushed him behind, placing himself in front of the god.

“I saw it with my eyes.”

“So I'm supposed to believe you based on your words alone?” Replied Wukong with a disdainful huff.

“If you don't believe me, how about we search him? If he didn't steal anything, then I'll apologize.” Proposed Erlang with narrowed eyes. His face was as cold as steel. Wukong wondered if he could even smile.

“Alright. But I'll do it.” Erlang didn't seem convinced by Wukong's proposition but he chose to concede anyway. It would be unwise to provoke the bimawen. The blonde monkey approached his assistant who was shaking like an autumn leaf mistreated by the autumn winds.

Sun Wukong began to search Mengai, he sighed when he found a bottle of wine hidden in one of his sleeves. Oh, so this guy really did steal something? The black-furred monkey closed his eyes in fright, persuaded that his boss would punish him. Wukong turned towards Erlang Shen once he was done and smiled. For those who didn't know monkeys, it could look friendly, for those who knew, it looked dangerous.

“He has nothing. I think your eyes do tricks on you, Erlang.” Huffed Wukong, Mengai's eyes widened in surprise. Geez, did he really think he was going to out him for a bottle of wine?

“I know what I saw. He's a thief.” Frowned Erlang. Couldn't this guy give it up? Nobody cared about a bottle of wine anyway, thought Wukong.

“Are you doubting me now? I trusted your words and searched for him myself. Do you want to call me a liar?” Threatened Wukong with a hint of a growl. Erlang flinched. He looked around, at the spirits and gods devouring this scene with glee, and sighed.

“... I do not wish to cause a scene.” Mumbled Erlang.

“Then the matter is settled. And since I'm a generous person, you don't even have to apologize, Erlang.” Laughed Wukong. He then gripped his assistant's wrist and dragged him away from the spirits and constellations. “But this kinda spoiled the mood for us and I had one too many drinks. We're done for tonight.” Called Wukong. The spirits pressed themselves to make way for him, like waves parting in half. Some wished goodnight for both monkeys.

Wukong summoned his cloud and waited for Mengai to climb on it. The flight home was silent. The black-furred monkey seemed to stew in his own thoughts. Wukong regretted not eating more peaches but all in all he was satisfied. They climbed down before the mansion's front door. Before opening the door Wukong turned towards his assistant :

“You know, it was a banquet. If you wanted wine you could have just taken a glass.” Mengai glared at him for a few minutes before sighing and averting his eyes in shame.

“...I wanted to have a taste at home.” He admitted. “... Thanks for defending me.” Wukong was taken off guard by the thanks. He didn't think Mengai, as stubborn as he was, would even think of it.

“How about we have a drink? Since I helped you I'm kinda entitled to this wine aren't I?” Wukong created two glasses with his hair and sat before the front door.

“You-” Groaned Mengai. But he ate his words before he could spit them and reluctantly sat beside the bimawen. He took the bottle hidden in his sleeve and opened it. “You're stealing my spoils, Sun Wukong.” He grumbled under his teeth.

“Guess that makes both of us thieves.” Snorted Wukong as he took a glass and brought it to his lips. Perhaps he should order some barrels of this wine. It wouldn't hurt. Maybe he could even do his own vineyards? The idea was quite alluring. “And you know my name?” He added after one gulp. It was quite disrespectful to not be addressed as his title by his assistant but the wine had a tendency to loosen one tongue so he could forgive it.

“... I heard it at the festival.” Mumbled the black-furred monkey, he gulped his glass and the tip of his nose reddened. Wukong snorted. What a lightweight. He was no better.

“I never asked but what crimes did you commit? Were you a thief?” Asked the bimawen, he wasn't that interested in his assistant's past, but he was in a chatty mood.

“Some kind.” Slurred Mengai as he swirled his glass, watching the wine curl. “I stole identities. Disguised myself as others.”

“Why?” Snorted Wukong, he couldn't fathom why anyone would want to be someone else. He felt good in his skin. He loved it. Mengai's face darkened, shadows fell on his eyes and veiled his gaze. This wasn't a good look on him. Wukong was prepared to change the subject, he knew the macaque was a rather private person, but perhaps the wine made him more honest than usual, he answered.

“I don't like myself.” Wukong stopped smiling at this. He thought about what to say for a second. Maybe something comforting? Before downing his glass and taking another. Perhaps there wasn't anything to say about this.

Why did he choose the character “ai” for his assistant name? Perhaps because he projected his own wish for company on him. Perhaps because he saw the same wish in him. Or perhaps because he guessed the other needed some love in his life. No matter the form. Wukong wasn't a very subtle person for matters such as those.

The macaque took another glass and downed it, his nose reddened even further. Maybe Wukong should also share something personal with the other? They were drunk anyway. It's not like they would remember what happened under the discreet shine of the rising moon. It didn't matter if he let his inner demons peek through him for the evening.

“Sometimes I have doubts about my job.” He confessed as he looked at the empty bottom of his glass, as if it could answer him and give him everything he wanted.

He needed more wine.

He took another glass.

“When I came here, I wanted to be recognized. I mean I'm an awesome person but nobody sees it. I wanted a place worthy of me. They gave me this job, and I really thought they valued me for a moment. Turns out being the bimawen is the bottom of the barrel. I was so angry. I wanted to lash out at them. But…” He bit his lips for a second before resuming his speech. “I like the horses. I told myself, I'll be angry tomorrow, tomorrow I'll tell them how stupid they are. And before I knew it years passed. I had a lot of assistants at first but the Jade Emperor took them all away when he saw I could do it all by myself with clones. Saying they would be more useful elsewhere. I threw some tantrums. And now my position is a little better, I have a salary and more recognition. And they gave me you.” Wukong took another glass of wine, letting the sweet drink glide in his throat and drown the knock forming there. “But sometimes I ask myself if I'm not wasting my time here. I could be so much greater. I know I could. But… I really like the horses…”

The macaque growled in annoyance, he grabbed the bottle and downed a good portion of it, Wukong whistled, his assistant was a good drinker.

“You know what type of people I'm the most jealous of?” Asked Mengai with a very pronounced slur. He pointed at Wukong and growled at him. “It's you. It's the people who do what they like in their life and are happy about it. Those people shine so much. And I'm envious because I don't have a shine for myself. What good does it do to be rich and powerful if you're empty? I think you shine so much now. And you shine much more than if you'd be a, a great sage or even a Buddha! And it's annoying. You're blinding me. You annoying mogwai.”

Wukong bursted out laughing. “Gods I don't know if you're trying to comfort him or if you're trying to piss me off.”

“You're pissing me off.” Replied Mengai in a bright moment of clarity.

“You don't like yourself and I like myself too much. I think we are a great duo.”

“You're an idiot.” Huffed the macaque.

“Well, to idiots problems then.” Cheered Wukong as he clinked glasses with the macaque's bottle. He looked up at the moon peeking from the horizon and smiled.

It was a pretty great night.

+ vocabulary

Li : Ancient Chinese measurement, 1 li = 576 meters

Zhou Gong : Zhou Gong, or Duke of Zhou, was a member of the royal family of the early Zhou dynasty known for his wisdom and statesmanship. The saying “dreaming of Zhou Gong” is a sign of good aumen. He’s considered the God of Dreams by many in Chinese culture after his writing of the “The Interpretations of Dreams by the Duke of Zhou”.

The San Sheng Liu Bu (Three departments and Six Ministries) was the system implanted in the Sui dynasty for ruling the imperial court. Here, the clones are having fun by recreating a simpler design of this system.

Mogwai : in Chinese mythos a mogwai is a sort of lil devil / lil gremlin

Chinese hours : Chinese hours, which I use in this chap, are divided between the twelve Chinese zodiac signs and represents a precise period of time.

Hour of the rat : 23h (11pm) to 1h00 (1am)

Hour of the ox : 1h00 (1am) to 3h00 (3am)

Hour of the tiger : 3h00 (3am) to 5h00 (5am)

Hour of the rabbit : 5h00 (5am) to 7h00 (7am)

Hour of the dragon : 7h00 (7am) to 9h00 (9am)

Hour of the snake : 9h00 (9am) to 11h00 (11am)

Hour of the horse : 11h00 (11am) to 13h00 (1pm)

Hour of the sheep : 13h00 (1pm) to 15h00 (3pm)

Hour of the monkey : 15h00 (3pm) to 17h00 (5pm)

Hour of the rooster : 17h00 (5pm) to 19h00 (7pm)

Hour of the dog : 19h00 (7pm) to 21h00 (9pm)

Hour of the pig : 21h00 (9pm) to 23h00 (11pm)

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[intoanotherworld23]

Deep Water III

Characters: Will Miller, Ben Miller, Frankie Morales, Santiago Garcia and female reader

Warnings: Impure thoughts, swear words, mention of killings and murder, lots of drinking, shooting

Summary: The Frontier men have to take you to one of their clubs, and that’s a perfect excuse to get drunk

Hearts, reblogs, and comments are greatly encouraged and appreciated! If you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know so I can add you! Thank you all so much! XOXO

Part 2 Part 4

Check out my other works on Hall Of Hunks

It was incredibly weird sitting in a room with a bunch of mobsters, and yet somehow they looked like normal everyday citizens you'd see walking along the street. They just didn't match the profiles of killers or thugs. You were pretty sure you'd hear all their stories though.

"How long am I going to be here?" They probably didn't know the answer to that anyway but you'd figure you would try and ask.

"Depends on when Will wants to let you go." You didn't like the way Benny said that though it wasn't reassuring that he would even let you go.

"Is he gonna kill me?" Whispering this time as you fiddled with your hands in your lap afraid for the answer.

"He won't kill you." Benny said as he gave you a warm smile. "We can promise you that."

"What if he gets really mad and can't control himself?" You threw on their face as they looked at each other.

"He's not going to kill you babe." Bennys voice a little more stern this time.

"Unless you give him reason to kill you he won't." Frankie leaned forward elbows on his knees hands clasped in front of him.

Not liking the way that he said that at all. What reason would you have to give him to justify him killing you? Surely he wouldn't kill you for simply trying to escape. Everyone who is held against their will or kidnapped tries to escape. That would be a ridiculous reason to end your life.

Then you remembered he mentioned your father and said your last name was keeping you alive. Wondering how he knew your father and why that was so important. You weren't going to stop asking until you got a legit answer.

"He said my last name was keeping me alive." Throwing those words back at them crossing your arms over your chest. "What did he mean by that?"

"We can't tell you that darlin." Benny shrugged his shoulders a sympathetic look on his face. "That's Will's department and should be the one to explain."

"That's bull shit." Raising your voice a little frustrated beyond belief that nobody was telling you anything. "I just don't understand why you guys can't tell me anything."

"Don't worry he'll tell you." Santi responded with a nod. "When the time is right."

Why does the time need to be right? That was such a bull shit answer and reason as to why nobody could tell you, and why it specifically had to be Will. Maybe he knew your father in some way, and something happened between them.

Gasping internally at the thought of Will or his men having to do something with your family's death. If that was the case you'd be more than happy to put a bullet in each of their brains. Then again if they wanted the family dead they would have killed you too.

"So you guys kill people?" Asking no one in particular Santi and Frankie looked at each other for a moment.

"Only if we have to." Benny answered for them making you glance over at him.

"Just like that guy in the alley?" They could sense the cynical tone in your voice making them grin that you weren't as afraid of them as they'd like.

"He knew what the consequences were for dealing with us." Santi responded anyway turning your attention to him.

"So he owed you guys money." You leaned back in the chair trying to figure out the reason they killed him. "And because he didn't have it you guys killed him?"

"Yes." This time Santi looked a little ashamed answering your question.

"Technically Ironhead killed him." Frankie spoke up in defense the corner of your lip twitching. "Just sayin."

Maybe it was just you but Frankie didn't seem like the type of guy to be involved in something like this. He seemed more like the type of guy to be afraid of guys like them. Although you shouldn't judge a book by its cover cause he probably has killed more people than what you'd expect.

"How did Ironhead or whatever become the head guy?" Asking as you looked between the three of them.

"That's a story for another time." Wills voice rang as he descended down the stairs your heads turning to him. "We have to go."

"Where?" Frankie asked as he stood up adjusting his shirt.

"To the club." Grabbing a gun and placing into a holder that was strapped to his hip gulping as you watched him. "Apparently someone doesn't want to cough up what they owe us."

"Is it that Russian guy?" Benny already knew who he was talking about.

"Yeah security spotted him betting money at the poker table." He scoffed loudly as he looked at his phone. "Even though he told me last week he didn't have the money yet."

"Little fucker." It surprised you to hear Frankie talking like that since he'd been so nice to you.

Which probably meant it was just another man whose life they were going to take. It made your skin crawl at the thought of hearing another man beg for his life only to have it ripped from him. Those men they killed most likely had families to go home to. Wives and children that missed them wondering what happened to them.

If you could have avoided being caught you would have ran so quickly your legs would be on fire, and you wouldn't be in this situation. Hearing them justify what they did to other people made you sick to your stomach. This wasn't how normal people should live their lives, and citizens shouldn't live in fear cause of them.

"What about her?" Benny asked pointing at you.

"She comes with us." He said like it was no big deal but your eyes went wide in shock.

"What?" Exclaiming as you stood up looking straight at him but he was refusing to meet your eyes. "Your kidding me right?"

"Will we can't take her with us man." Santi tried to reason with him.

"Yeah that's not something for her to have to watch." Frankie defended his suggestion actually making you feel better they thought about your well being.

"Yeah I'm not going." You stated but nobody was really paying attention to you.

"She's going with us and that's final." Will argued his cheeks turning red making them back up a little.

"You guys can tie me up, lock me in a room whatever." This time they all looked over at you. "But I'm not going with you."

Standing firm putting your foot down in defiance, but Will looked like he wasn't in the mood. Looking over at you finally before stomping his way over to you making you cower back a little from him.

Grabbing your arm roughly in his hand pulling you toward him making you whimper. The rest of the guys stood back not even daring to tell him what to do, but they still felt bad. The feeling of his calloused hands rubbing against your skin was burning.

"I don't have time for your pathetic whiny bitching right now." He sneered at you the veins in his neck popped out. "You are fucking going with us and that's final."

The two of you staring into each other's eyes silently daring you to say something else to piss him off. Raising an eyebrow at you and you lowered your head a little but still kept your eyes locked on his. His lips quirked up into a smirk knowing he won this battle.

It was too soon to be challenging his authority. He seemed like the type of man who didn't like to be tested, and if someone tried to outrank him it would end in blood. You needed to be smart about things, and stay alive as long as you could.

"Well what the hell am I supposed to wear?" Looking down at your clothes feeling these weren't club appropriate. "I'm not going to the club looking like this."

"She does have a point man." Santi agreed with him making you smile. "Our club has a strict dress code."

"She's going to be with us." He growled not liking his men to be agreeing with you so easily.

"Yeah she can't wear jeans to a hot nightclub." Benny stepped in as his eyes looked your body up and down giving you a wink.

"Fine." Throwing his hands up in defeat. "We have spare clothes upstairs."

"Yeah I'm not wearing clothes that your sluts left over." You argued making them all laugh leaving you confused.

"Either you wear the sluts clothes," Will spoke as he stepped closer to you, "or wear nothing at all."

"I wouldn't mind the latter though."

Your mouth about dropped to the floor with his challenging words. Surely he wouldn't make you go to a club with no clothes on they weren't complete animals. Judging by the look on his face though he wasn't playing.

Benny and Santi seemed to also like that idea as they chuckled. A part of you wanted to say wear nothing at all just to see their reaction, but you were afraid that he was dead serious on making you go naked.

"Asshole." Grumbling under your breath as this time he smiled in your defeat.

"Fish show her where the clothes are." Will ordered him as Frankie walked up to you and placed a soft hand on your lower back leading you upstairs.

As he led you to a room you saw a bed and dresser, and that was it. It looked like someone had lived in this room, but there was literally nothing in here. Frankie could see the confused look on your face.

"There are no sluts clothing here." He teased as you just rolled your eyes at him. "By the way."

"This was Yovanna's room." Frankie informed you raising an eyebrow at him wondering who she was. "She's in the hospital in a coma."

"We took all her stuff down so we didn't have to look at it." Frankie looking down at his feet noticing his eyes started to water knowing she must have meant something to him. "We left her clothes though."

"Just in case." He nudged your shoulder with a smile this time causing you to smile back at him.

"What happened to her?" Asking him hoping you weren't going to upset him in any way.

"She was shot a couple times and she just never woke up." Turning to look away from Frankie as you pictured what this woman's room probably looked like.

She was probably a very tough woman to be living with four other men, and she was also most like ridiculously gorgeous too. Or was clinically insane and hated herself so much to the point she would live this life.

Either way it seemed like her story was something he didn't want to discuss. Which most likely means none of the other guys would want to talk about it either.

"Come on let's find you something." Nodding towards the closet opening it to see it was full of all kinds of clothing. "Pretty sure you guys are the same size."

"What about this?" He held up a crop top and matching black leather skirt as you looked at him raising an eyebrow.

"Uh yeah I don't think so." Tossing that to the side he started to rummage through some more things before he settled on a black dress.

"This would look amazing on you." It was plain black with spaghetti straps and it looked really cute.

"Okay fine I'll wear that." Grabbing it from his hands as you placed it on the bed going to take your shirt off when you noticed him standing there still. "Do you mind?"

"Gotta stay here with you so you don't escape." Shrugging his shoulders with an apologetic look on his face. "I'll turn around."

Which he did keeping his back fully towards you as you quickly stripped off your other clothes, and slipped on the black dress. It was snug against your hips, and the ends of the dress went down to about your mid thigh.

The push up bra you were wearing had your cleavage nearly spilling out of the neck line. This dress felt like it was made for you, and you looked incredibly hot in it. You were wearing black boots which wouldn't have been your first choice, but it still fit with the outfit.

"Holy shit." Scratching the back of his neck as he looked your body up head to toe his whole face turning red. "You look amazing."

"Thanks." Wiping your hands down the side of the dress as you gave him a weak smile.

"Alright let's go."

Walking down the steps all three heads looked up to see you standing at the bottom of the steps like you were some kind of mythical creature. Santi had his mouth partially open in shock, while Benny licked his lips like you were something sweet. Then there was Will.

Clenching his hands into fists by his side as he tried to control his breathing. If the other guys were there he would have grabbed you so quickly and bent your over the railing. You were the best damn looking woman he has ever seen, and that dress made you look mysterious and seductive.

"God damn you look scrumptious." Benny groaned as he placed a fist up to his mouth.

"You're wearing that dress all the time." Santi agreeing with Benny as they began acting like horny teenage boys.

Looking down at your feet as all the men continued to drool over you. Frankie awkwardly coughed to snap them out of their day dreaming of what you probably looked like under neath those clothes. Looking back at him mouthing a quick thank you to him.

It made you feel good about yourself for a split second, but then you remembered where you were, and what kind of people you were surrounded by.

"Fuck let's go." Will groaned as he grabbed the keys and one by one you all headed out the door.

Will was struggling to control his hormones, and could feel himself getting hard picturing you in that dress. If the other men weren't here he'd already have you pinned against the wall with your dress bunched up around your hips, and his fingers touching you.

Shaking those vivid images from his mind of what you would look like underneath him moaning his name. He was never the type of guy to let a woman make him feel things. The other guys were most likely thinking that too.

As you piled into the car you were smushed between Benny and Frankie. Santi took his place in the drivers seat and once again Will took his seat in the passenger. You were going to have to figure out why he did that. It seemed weird he didn't want to drive.

For the first time since last night you were feeling good about yourself. You kind of felt powerful with how you made the boys act with how you dressed. Dress like that more often and you could probably walk away without a scratch. Although you were pretty positive you'd have better chance just trying to escape.

"Let's move." Will ordered as the rest of you got out to see a huge line waiting outside the club waiting to get in.

Looking at the club that had green and black lights shining down, and a neon sign that said Venom. There was multiple security guards standing outside, and once they saw your group they all stepped aside letting them by greeting each other with nods.

Guess the one good thing about being around them was getting into clubs without having to pay or wait outside with everyone else. Nobody dared to even groan either as they were let him probably knowing exactly who they were. Getting glares from the other women who looked at you with jealousy.

Walking through the doors there was strobe lights flickering all around the club. The dance floor was packed with sweating bodies, and the bar lined up with pretty woman chatting up desperate men. On another side it looked like there was gambling tables, and VIP booths. Assuming that was where they man they were looking for is.

You could feel a hand wrap around your waist looking from your side view to see that it was Will. The hand that was now applying pressure to your skin was starting to tingle. He didn't seem phased at all meanwhile you were panting and sweating by just a single touch.

"You want anything to drink?" Placing his lips almost on your ear as you all sat in a huge booth gated off from everybody else.

"Uh yeah I'll take whatever." Shouting over the music making him chuckle.

He motioned to a woman who was clearly the bottle service saying something to her as she nodded with a grin. Next thing you knew watched multiple women came heading towards the table wearing lingerie with a liquor bottle in each hand. The middle of the table had glasses, and buckets of ice along with stuff to mix in your drink if you needed it.

This was going to be your excuse to get hammered and try to forget everything that happened over the last twenty four hours. Maybe if they got drunk enough they'd forget about you, and you could walk out of here.

"Let me know if you see him." Will informed the guys who put on their laser focus.

Sitting there awkwardly as the rest of the men talked to each other looking towards the dance floor. Will's main focus was to spot the man they were looking for. Chugging back your drink as you began to make another one.

The burn felt good going down your throat. It was already taking its affect as you could feel yourself starting to loosen up. Bobbing your head along to the beat, and swaying your body back and forth catching the attention of Will.

"Found him." You heard him shout over to Benny who nodded placing his drink down.

"Pope come with us." Bradley ordered as he stood up. "Fish stay with her don't let her out of your sight."

"What if I have to pee?" If it wasn't for the alcohol in your system you wouldn't have said that, but it amused everyone but Will.

"Guess you'll have to ruin that dress then." He had an answer for everything huffing as he turned around leaving the booth.

Frankie nodded as he scooted closer to you watching the three men disappear walking towards the mini casino area. Frankie already knew what was about to probably go down, meanwhile you had a very vague idea what was about to happen.

"You might want to slow down." He suggested as he watched you pouring yourself another glass of straight liquor. "We have all night."

"I don't care I need this." Shaking your glass back and forth as you tossed it back with no problem this time.

"The hangover won't be worth it." He was trying to reason with you but you didn't want to hear it.

"Whatever." None of them had a right to tell you how you should feel or react to things.

"You'll still be with us tomorrow." This time he was being realistic and wanted you to realize there was no getting out of this no matter what you did or said.

"You think I don't know that." Snapping at him feeling your blood boiling. "Why the fuck do you think I'm trying to get drunk?"

"Alright okay you've made your point." Putting his hands up in surrender not wanting to make you anymore angry.

You really didn't want to yell at Frankie like that, but with all these emotions you were feeling you couldn't help it. One minute they could be doing everything to keep you alive, and the next then having you dig your own grave while they shoot you in the head.

There was no way you'd still be here with them if your father was alive. He'd have them all arrested or shot the minute they put their hands on you. Wishing now that he was still alive so you could be back in the comfort of your own house and bed.

"He's not all bad you know." You didn't need to hear a name to know who he was talking about.

"You have to say that he's your boss." Shaking your head at him not in the mood to hear his excuses for him.

"Actually I'm saying that cause he's not just my boss but my friend." Looking over at Frankie this time with a defiant look on your face.

"Could have fooled me." Cocking your head to the side as you poured yourself another shot.

"He really isn't." Scoffing at him as you looked over to the gambling tables unable to see them. "Once you get to know him at least."

"I don't want to get to know him." Before Frankie could say anything shots rang out in the club making everyone scream.

Rough hands grabbing you as he pulled you into him and shielding you from any bullets. Your body was frozen and you felt the full weight of terror strike your body. Trying not to cry as the possibility of death floated in your mind.

You've been around guns before and heard them go off, but it was never in a public place where you knew dangerous men were. In that moment all you wanted was your family, and to hold them and have them tell you everything was going to be alright.

Wondering who was firing and who was hit? Watching as the patrons scattered like little bugs that felt danger, and didn't want to be in the cross hairs of whoever was firing.

"Fucking get her." Was all you heard before someone else grabbed you.

——————————————

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129

Tag list series: @casa-boiardi @luciferiorbxtch @ladyelissarose

[jhilsara]

I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Chapter 9

Hobie’s attached to MJ in a way that he hasn’t been with anyone else before. It scares and excites him at the same time.

She’s fun and bold but also is maybe the nosiest person he’s ever met.

 He doesn’t know how she seems to continuously find herself tangled in his web of Spider-Man activities. It worries and eats at him, but he knows how stubborn she is.

She keeps pushing and pushing, begging to be let into that world. She didn’t even try to pretend she didn’t know he was Spider-Man.

Instead she had stood there and called him out, almost ripping the mask off his face herself. She just kept popping up. He’s known her for maybe six months and she’s gotten into more trouble than he cares for.

It’s not even that she’s looking for it, she’s like a magnet. She just happens to find him at just the wrong time… or he finds her.

Maybe it’s him that’s getting pulled into her orbit and he brings the storm in with him.

She’s carved out a place in his heart and he doesn’t know how to feel about that. More like, he has a vague idea of his own feelings for her, but that’s a different and terrifying thought.

People like him get others hurt. When people get too close, know too much… they get hurt.

It’s happened before and the literally thought of something happening to her, it’s enough to push him away. It enough to make him shut his brain off and run for a while. 

Maybe it’s better if he’s not in her life… maybe it’s better if he stops it before it can start.

He looks over at his wall of photos and sees the many he’s already collected of them. He takes one of the polaroid’s and pockets it before he can talk himself out of it.

He begins to tap coordinates into his watch. He has to get out of here. He knows he’s being a coward and he can deal with that later.

Every feeling is too big and too tight as it pounds against his chest. The anxiety rising in him isn’t fun and he just wants to shut it off.  

He jumps dimensions, landing in Mumbattan, Pav was usually good to talk to. Easily excitable and was always happy to see Hobie.

He was younger but Hobie had a soft spot for all the younger spider people. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say he was just checking in on him. Give him something to do before he tries to do something stupid.

Something he’d regret.

Too bad Pav was one of the most observant people when it came to matters of the heart.

He knocks on Pav’s window, surprising the young man at his desk. A wide smile crosses his face as he lets Hobie in.

“Hobie, my guy!” He exclaims and the two immediately fall into their routine. It’s nice, comfortable, not something that Hobie has to actively think about.

This is what he wanted. To not think.

He falls comfortably into conversation with Pav and they catch up. Hours pass like that, Hobie joins him on patrol, Pav welcoming another pair of hands to help out his busy Mumbattan.

Hobie returns the next day and it’s a rinse and repeat. Then again, and now, Pav is too smart to just let this pass.

Pav didn’t have any plans that day and the two men were lounging is his room, window open hoping for a breeze on this unbearable hot day.

Hobie’s stretched out on the floor, not used to the heat at all. Old York was hot if it hit anywhere near 30 C, this was a different heat. Hobie’s vest was discarded forever ago on Pav’s bed, the leather too much for him.

Pav is on his bed, trying to catch a breeze from the window. He looks down at Hobie and just rips the band aid off. “You’ve been here for almost three days… Don’t you have, I don’t know, your own universe to save or something?” he presses.

“Ouch,” Hobbie mocks offense, “Come by to hang out with a dear friend and get the could shoulder. That cuts deep.” He deadpans unmoving from the floor.

Pav picks up his vest and throws it at him. In doing so a small polaroid picture falls from the pockets.

“You’re avoiding something and I’ll find out what it is.” He says in an accusing tone.

Hobie just grunts in reply and grabs his vest. He folds it up to use as a faux pillow. “What? Can’t just come to see my friend?” he asks raising a brow.

Pav’s about to respond when he sees the picture, he goes to pick it up, “What’s this?” he asks raising a brow.

“What’s what?” Hobie asks sitting up on his elbows to look over.

Pav’s face is split into the largest grin as he waves the little photo at Hobie, “More like who is this?”

Hobie’s face falters into a frown, “Give it back mate.” He goes to reach for it but Pav jerks away.

“No no no no! Who is this lady? You don’t keep pictures of random girls in your pocket!” Pav says cheekily.

He gasps quickly, “Is she who you’re avoiding?!” he demands.

Hobie groans and flops back down. He covers his face with his hands, “Should have just went to Peter…” he mutters.

Pav’s eyebrows raise, “Wait, wait,” he looks over the picture once more. Really looking at the girl and her maroon hair sticks out like a sore thumb. “Is this MJ? Is this girl your MJ?” He asks excitedly pointing at her.

“Yes, no, don’t know… it doesn’t matter nothing about the canon bullshit even matters anyway.” Hobie mumbles with a frustrated sigh.

“Ouch… that doesn’t sound very confident.” Pav responds handing the picture back to Hobie.

He’s lost his need to take it away from Pav, he just looks down at it. At her.

“So, what are you doing here then? Are you just avoiding her?” Pav pushes looking at him expectantly.

He’s met with silence from Hobie. He’s just mulling over his own thoughts. He feels his chest tighten again with anxiety.

“So, yes? You’re undeniably avoiding her.”

Hobie stands up and grabs his vest, “I need to go talk to Peter.”

“To actually talk to him or to avoid going home?” Pav questions.

“To talk about MJ.” Hobie replies with a heavy sigh.

“Have fun, his is like the blue print, right?” Pav says playing around with his own watch.  

Hobie raises a brow pointing at his watch, “What are you mucking about with that for?”

Pav doesn’t look up just grinning, “Going to call Gwen and Miles duh. This is the latest gossip.”

Hobie rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He sets off to go talk to Peter. He needs advice. Peter for one, has Mary-Jane. Peter also almost fucked it all up.

Hobie doesn’t want to fuck it up.

If you'd like me to make a tag list and add you too it please let me know. &lt;3

[littlemisslipbalm]

Demonology - Part 4

Just Like Heaven -- Jake x f!Reader x Josh

Series Summary: A new demon has come to Nashville. Josh and Jake's ways of life have been thrown off by her arrival. The angel and demon have lived with an understanding of one another, but with Y/N stirring up trouble and asking questions, they're forced to work out a new normal. And why is she so powerful for a human turned demon anyway, that's unusual, right?

A/N: heyyooo new chappie! I do not have the next one written at all unfortunately so it may take awhile to upload but thank you to all who read...to all those who have been wanting to fuck angel!josh...lets just say your prayers may have been answered. lmk what you think :)

Chapter Summary: Flashbacks and angel sex and demonic anxiety attacks OH MY!

Word Count: 3.9k | Warnings: Smut (pretty explicit) 18+ always!!!!, explicit language, alcohol consumption, dubious understandings of demonology like always (sorry!), Josh and Jake chapter yay!, angst and plot!

Join the Taglist! | Masterpost (catch up on the rest of the story here)

Part 4: Just Like Heaven

1972. Los Angeles, California 

4 years before she died. 

Y/N was having the time of her life. Rori was in her arms as she sat on the side of the Forum stage, atop an amp, swinging her legs back and forth to the guitar riff Jimmy was winding down. 

She hollered and threw her head back, in awe and joy. She was coked out of her mind and a little drunk but she was oh so free. 

At 21, she’s been in this world of musicians and lovers and adventure, making trouble, for around six years. From lead singers to roadies and fellow fans, she’d made a lot of friends. Everyone around most of the theaters in LA and Inglewood recognized her by then. 

She didn’t have to say her name at a single door or even have a name on any list. When people saw her coming they let her in, knowing a wicked good time was about to be had by everyone. No one ever had a bad thing to say about her either. It was incredible. Wicked. 

So it confused her when she was taking a smoke break at the side stage door and a guy in a black leather duster and dark sunglasses didn’t seem to notice her at all. People loved talking to her, she often felt like a bit of a celebrity. And her hazy mind made her feel a little indignant that he didn’t even chance a look as she stood beside him smoking a cig looking as sexy as ever. 

Half way through the smoke, she glanced to her right still feeling his presence and growing more agitated. It was strangely just the two of them out there. Both smoking. She couldn’t bear the quiet. 

“Hey, cowboy.” 

He finally looked over when she spoke and she grinned her best smile. He nodded a curt nod and took another drag, turning to face forward again. 

She worried her brow and twisted so she was fully facing this guy. It was curious rather than malicious when she asked: “What’s your deal?” 

He threw another glance her way but she couldn’t see his eyes with the dark-tinted sunglasses he wore. “Sorry?”

“Are you new over here? I’ve never seen you around before.” 

He chuckled and she wasn’t sure what she had said that was funny. He flicked the butt of his cigarette across the alley, the cherry fizzing out as it glowed for a moment and faded into the night. 

“C’mon man,” she whined. “Give me a clue.” He couldn’t be a rockstar even though he had the look about him. She knew them all. Intimately. 

“Friend of the devil.” He shuffles his glasses to his breast pocket and in the light it looks like there’s a flash of yellow in his eye, but she thought that was just the drugs messing with her as she tried to focus on the stranger. 

“Oh! Dead and company! I’ve always wanted to make it up to San Francisco. They just keep me so busy here.” She is alight with excitement. The Grateful Dead were pretty incredible even if she’d never seen them. 

“I’m usually out in Nashville. But San Fran sure is…a scene.” He shrugs, noncommittal in his words, unsure himself why he was entertaining this conversation. 

“So you really don’t know who I am?” She’s simpering, teasing in tone as she twists her legs, lengthening her body against the brick wall. 

He won’t look at her but she can’t stop looking at him. His hair is long and pretty, a little unruly, but he’s beautiful. His silhouette is illuminated by the street lamp, leaving him in intense shadow and light. His prominent nose, his strong jaw, and his sunken eyes. He was the prettiest thing. She thought she’d never forget him. 

“This is Los Angeles, correct?” He chuckles again, looking down his nose at her. “I find it hard to believe that you think any old stranger would just know who you are.”

“I’m pretty notorious.” She leans her head to the side, still showing herself off for him, but he doesn’t seem affected. 

“So am I, doll, and you didn’t know me,” he raises his eyebrows. “So maybe let’s call it even.” 

“Deal,” she grins, extending her recently freed hand towards the man. She shook it at him as he looked at it reluctantly. “C’mon, baby.” 

He shook his head in disbelief. She was strange. A mix of sweet and sour. Pure and evil. Strange but he took her hand nonetheless. She bit her lip at the touch. He was cooler than she’d expected but it was welcome. 

“You wanna come?” She asks after a moment, not letting go of the stranger's hand, nodding towards the door she’d exited less than 10 minutes ago. “I can get you in to meet Jimmy and the boys. Jimmy’s real nice.”

He chuckled again, removing his hand from hers with a tug. “Another time. I was just passing through.” He pushed off the wall and chanced another glance back at her face as he moved to place his sunglasses back on. 

“Catch you on the other side!” She called when she caught his eyes, gleaming yellow once more before he disappeared. She hadn’t realized the corner was so close but she didn’t think about it twice, hearing one of the boys calling her name from inside. 

-

Present Day. Nashville, Tennessee 

47 years after she died. 4 months since she’d been back. 30 minutes since she’d left the dive bar. 1 hour since Jake had left her.

The moon was still high in the sky when Josh got home from the bar and was in the middle of taking off his blood-ridden shirt in his entryway. He wasn’t sure if it was salvageable and as he was inspecting it with disinterest, the last thing he expected happened. A soft knock sounded. Y/N was at his door. 

Hurrying to the door, he opened it a crack, eyes wide and mouth ajar. Shirtless despite his efforts to stay behind the wood. She smiled shyly, unlike herself. 

“How did you know where I live?”

“You said ‘come over, anytime I need’. Is now not anytime?”

Josh chuckled, “Yeah, I just hadn’t expected you to take me up on that invitation, what, a half hour after I’d extended it.”

She bit her lip, feeling the emotions flowing off Josh already. “Well I need it. Can I come in? I think we have some unfinished business.”

“Damnit,” Josh sighed to himself, hanging his head and opening the door wider. She made him weak.��

She smirked and tried to channel her excitement into casual cockiness. Like she’d always known he’d fold. “Isn’t swearing wrong, Joshua?”

“Shut up,” He shook his head, locking the door again and meeting her in the dimly lit hallway. “I can’t believe you came here. Like this.”

She had changed on her way over. A body-hugging slip dress barely covered her skin. It was an iridescent light blue satin. Josh couldn’t take his eyes off her body. She had dressed it up for him.

“I realized I wasn’t ready to say goodnight.” She replied, allowing him to back her up into the cream wall. Her hands reached up to play with his necklace, fingering the shiny beads. “And I can feel that you wanted to see me too. I felt you at the bar, watching me and Jake. How you wanted it to be you. I can feel you.” She breathed the words softly, their breath mingling with the faces inches apart. She pressed her hands against his warm chest. “You radiate towards me. Constantly.” 

Josh hummed, fingers dancing over the silk concealing her waist. Beneath was the skin he couldn’t take his eyes off of all night. She was right. Because of Jake, because of her, but mostly because of himself, he was about to screw his greatest temptation. Maybe still half in spite of Jake tonight. 

Josh thought she must have come to his apartment immediately. She must have known his resolve was at his weakest. A few drinks in and jealous, needy for her touch and here she was stepping onto his doormat, presenting herself for the taking. She made doing the wrong thing too easy. But, Jesus, all he thought about at night was her and the images she’d shown him, wishing they were real. Wishing he could forget all about her. 

She pushed her hips towards Josh's, pressing them even closer together as he rested his forehead against hers, taking a deep breath. Exactly how he’d wished he’d been in Jake’s place at the bar.

“This is wrong,” Josh’s voice is shakey, fanning hot against her skin.

“This isn’t wrong. This is right, I swear. Can’t you feel it,” her voice is sickly sweet again, whispering just for Josh. “It’s okay, Angel. It’s okay to want me. I want you, too.”

“What about Jake?” Josh selfishly wanted to know where his brother fell in this equation. He took solace in the fact that she was with him instead of Jake but he didn’t know if that should actually reassure him.

“What about Jake?” She repeated. Her eyes stare into Josh’s with a scary intensity he’d never seen from her. She knew he’d overheard what Jake had said. Never again. He must have heard it. 

Josh swallowed and she caressed the skin around his throat where his Adam's apple had moved. She smiled. 

Maybe he was trying to prolong the inevitable. The sin he was about to commit. That he couldn’t come back from. Maybe if he talked about Jake enough she’d leave him for his twin. It was something he both wanted and couldn’t stand. His voice is choked up, pinched. “Won’t he mind?”

“He made it clear he doesn’t want me…again. But if you’re worried about him, Angel, it can be our little secret. Now kiss me, sweetheart. I know you want to.”

The way she called Josh that pet name made it sound like a curse but it still made him press his lips against hers. Fervent and desperate to taste her again. He pressed into her more and she opened her legs, allowing his to slip between hers, slotting them closer than ever before. Immediately she ground down onto the thick of Josh’s thigh, relieving the pressure growing in her core minutely. 

“Dear god,” Josh gasped when he pulled away from her for a moment. 

He could feel her wetness on his thigh already and the press of her hardened nipples against his chest. She grinned at him, her smile fucked out and devious. This was exactly what she needed. He was exactly what she needed. 

“They’re not here…Take me to your bedroom, Joshua, and have me anyway you want me. My treat.” She nipped at his lower lip and he felt an ache in his chest and his pants. She was sin incarnate and he couldn’t wait to taste it any longer. “Please.” 

“Oh,” He whispered, but she caught it. He was too close to miss a thing. The ‘please’ had gotten him.

His fantasies were becoming reality and grew tenfold in front of his eyes as they made their way to his bedroom. Drapes of white and cream extended around it. Votive candles in golden vases and holders were scattered around the room and offered a warm light. They illuminated his floor to ceiling bookshelves, filled with hundreds of books, and paintings of foggy serene landscapes in lilac and robin’s egg blue. It was beautiful, but she couldn’t be fucked to take the time to appreciate it all. Her mind was filled with Josh. 

“You’re so wet,” Josh mumbled, pressing his thigh into her center again as he laid her gently down on his sheets. 

She grinned up at him, her hands wrapped around his neck, curling into his soft hair. “So this isn’t your first rodeo, angel?” 

Josh pecked her lips and moved to litter tender kisses on her cheeks, jaw and neck. “I’ve had a few committed relationships over the years,” he mumbles. “They couldn’t exactly last, though.” 

She nodded in understanding, petting over the nape of his neck and over his broad, strong shoulders, creamy skin. Soft as silk. 

He inhaled deeply, taking her in. “This dress,” He ran his thumb up and down the fabric on her hip. 

“Just for you, angel. I know how you hate all my black and red.” 

“S’not that,” He kisses down her chest, kneading her breasts through the fabric and then slipping a hand down between her legs. 

“Then what is–oh! Oh fuck!” Her hands gripped for purchase on Josh’s shoulders. Her thoughts derailed. 

Josh’s fingers had slipped between her folds and swirled around her clit. “So wet,” he repeated and she groaned, in disbelief this was happening. “No panties.” 

She hummed in agreement, body beginning to work with his fingers with small thrusts. “Was hoping I wouldn’t need them. And I was right, wasn’t I?” 

“Dirty, dirty demon,” He whispers, breathless at the feeling of her heat. How his fingers feel inside her, thinking about what it will feel like when he sinks in. He burrows his face into her neck, laving kisses into her skin, feeling thankful. “So good, baby. Oh, wow.” 

She whined at his words. She wanted to worship Josh as he began to fuck into her every way he needed after he made her cum the first time with his fingers. He was so strong and powerful, yet so gentle with his touch. It was long, a strong ocean wave, pounding into her steadily, filling her with his heavy cock. Angelic strength and stamina. The room seemed to glow a golden light emanating from every inch of Josh’s skin. The same gold as the fading sun on that same rippling sea, where the light catches the movement just right and it’s pure reflected light. She came three more times before she began to feel Josh let up. A little. She was feeling euphoric. 

He wanted to switch positions. It was the one his fantasies often drifted to. Her dress had been discarded on the floor a long time ago. Her beautiful body was on full display for him as he whispered in her ear how he wanted her and she giggled, practically purring in compliance. 

As she moved to turn around, her eye caught something in the dresser mirror. The golden light that emanated from Josh, bathing him in a shiny glitter that stuck to his skin, had fallen onto her own skin. Together, they were both bathed in liquid gold. Instead of angels and demons, she swore they resembled gods, gods caught in the most human of acts. 

Hands and knees on the bed, she presented her ass towards Josh and stretched her back. Lengthening her torso, she leaned her head down into the sheets. Josh watched her move, lithe and practiced. Breathtaking. Unmatched. He was catching his breath at the side of the bed, one leg already bent on the bed and the other keeping him standing. His eyes couldn’t leave her body. He would’ve fucked her forever if he could. 

She wiggled her ass and whined his name, effectively getting his attention and breaking his reverie. He thrust into her from behind and she moaned out and he grinned, smoothing his hand down her naked ass and lower back. She pushed back on his length, meeting him in the middle. 

“Good girl.” He mumbled. His hands spread her ass checks and got lost in the trance of their bodies meeting. How he disappeared inside her and how her body welcomed him, never wanting him to leave, sucking him in deeper and begging him to never leave. How could something feel so right be so wrong? 

“So good, Josh. Fuckin’ me so good. Thank you, angel.” She breathed, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy. “Love it, love you…” 

Josh was sure he misheard her. Surely she hadn’t just said–he was distracted by his imminent orgasm that led him to a different headspace all together. He moaned as he came inside her and she whined in agreement. “Let it all out, baby.” 

She hadn’t even heard herself. 

When Josh woke up the next day, he was naked and alone in his plush bed. His eyes scanned the room, feeling calmer. Maybe that had just been a really weird and vivid dream. He tried to believe himself until he saw the satin blue dress on his floor. Oh fuck.

He threw himself back into the pillows and covered his face with his hands groaning into the silence. He’d gone somewhere he couldn’t come back and now he was left in the after of it all. 

Picking up the evidence of the previous night, he wandered around his home, muttering to himself and feeling immense shame. As well as another emotion. He longed for Y/N. Why had she left him before he had woken up? 

No note. Just the dress which he assumed she didn’t want now that it had done its job. It wasn’t her color after all. 

Josh showered off the remainder of the evidence from last night, gold flecks drifting off his skin and swirling down the drain, a river of gold shame. 

-

She tiptoed back into her apartment around sunrise after leaving Josh’s. She couldn’t bear to face him in the light of day. He had bestowed the exact gift she had longed for since she’d laid eyes on his glowing skin, but it felt wrong to lay with him afterwards. 

She had waited for his breathing to even, his mind going to another place, before she untangled from his angelic body. Something had been repeating in her head the moment he had finished in her for the final time. 

She wasn’t good. She was wrong. She had led him astray. 

She had expected pure bliss to continue flowing through her when he had laid beside her, caressing her skin gently with sweet innocent kisses placed against her temple as he mumbled a song under his breath. It was beautiful and tender. She wanted to be at peace. 

Instead, she felt disgusting shame. Like she has done something terribly wrong. It made her skin crawl. She didn’t understand the sensation. She didn’t feel this feeling. Ever. As a demon or as a human (or whatever Josh and Jake think she was). 

So he eventually fell asleep and she fled because maybe if she got away from him the feeling would go away. She didn’t have time to test that theory. 

Jake was sprawled across her couch with Rori wrapped around his chest in his chupacabra form, cooing to the animal until his yellow eyes flicked up to her figure. 

Clad in last night’s original red and black outfit and covered in gold, she stood in her doorway frozen. 

“Your animal was feeling neglected.” Jake lifts the dog off of him and sits up. “How was dear brother Josh?” 

She opened her mouth but no words came out, she just stepped inside and Jake shut the door behind her with his mind. She closed her mouth. 

Jake continues, eyes still gleaming as they flicked up and down her face and torso. “He’s all over you.” 

“Why do you care?” She finally manages to get out. 

“I don’t.” Jake smiles wickedly. “Just making conversation based on observation, kid.” 

“Get out of my apartment, I’m not in the mood.” She decides that being punished by Jake wasn’t helping her situation. 

“I’ve heard celestial fornication creates something of this,” he pauses, finger swiping along her collarbone, suddenly at her side. Their opposite shoulders were beside each other as he inspected the fine gold smattering of flecks that had come off onto his fingertip. “Sort. But I wasn’t an angel long enough for me to ever find out first hand. Not that they’re supposed to…is he okay now that he’s got his wings wet?” 

“Wh-what?” She steps back from Jake, still reeling from the night with Josh and the information at the bar and now Jake in her apartment. It all was happening too fast, she felt her head swimming. The room was too hot. Jake was too similar to Josh in this moment. Her eyes were blurring, it was like Jake’s face was shifting or morphing into Josh’s as she stuttered. Spinning around and around. “Wings…wet…what?” 

Jake’s eyes widened, the smirk on his face quickly sliding off as he watched Y/N, her eyes flickering in her head to black. She took another step back from him and this time Jake took a step forward, following after her staggering body. 

“My head,” She groaned, clutching a hand at her forehead, and Jake grabbed for her elbows, realizing she was about to collapse. 

“Woah, woah,” He says, carefully easing her body weight into him. “It was just some light teasing for bagging my angel brother, don’t go discorporating on me.” 

He carries her to her couch as carefully as possible despite his awkward hold on her, adjusting her so that he can sit by her legs and lean over her, staring into the abyss of her still black eyes. Rori is on the back of the couch, staring down at his master. One of Jake’s hands is smoothing over her forehead and then down over her hair as he inspects her. She can make out his snake-like eyes shifting quickly back and forth between hers. 

“Can you hear me, Sal?” He asks weakly, giving away his distress. 

Her lips part, “Did you just give me a fucking demonic anxiety attack?”

“I don’t think so…asshole,” He adds with a joking lilt in his voice, glad she was able to joke, meaning it couldn’t be that bad. “I don’t know. Maybe. This has never happened before?” 

“No,” She murmurs, reaching out to her dog to scratch at his ears–that servant of hell might’ve been wrong, this little monster might end up being her ESA. She takes a deep breath, still feeling a little overheated. “Maybe don’t ambush your colleagues from now on.” 

“I thought you were made of stronger stuff, kid.” 

She huffs and Jake bites at his inner lip at his ability to bother her, just a little. His demonic self couldn’t help the pleasure it brought even if he was also genuinely worried about her well-being. 

“Sorry,” he says half-heartedly. “Just wasn’t expecting to see you come home in eau-de-Josh.” 

“Yeah, well I wasn’t planning on it,” She says. Her eyes were slowly fading from black and back to her average color. “Going or you seeing me right after the fact.” 

Jake almost smiled and then quickly suppressed it, leaning back from her as she shuffled up onto her elbows. “Well this settles it.” He says with a finality that she doesn’t understand at all. 

What she wanted was some peace and quiet, but it seemed the universe–and Jake, had other plans for her. 

“What do you mean?”

“Now we really need to figure out what you are because my bet is that your little mystical panic attack is linked to the questions surrounding your powers and true parentage.” He runs a hand through his hair, before tapping his fingers against his lips. She could see the thoughts rapidly racing through his mind. 

“That seems like a leap,” She says, unsure. 

Jake leans closer and they are once again within each other’s breathing spaces. “Like I said last night. The things you do, including this, aren’t normal for demons. You are not normal and I fear that means you may be in serious trouble that we cannot even begin to fathom.”

Her eyes flutter at his words hitting her face. His voice was low and raspy, urgent. She licked at her lips and watched his eyes flicker to the movement. 

“So no pressure, huh?”

-

To be continued....

Taglist: @ofthecaravel @gretavanfreaky @sinarainbows @jaketlove @mysticalstarcatcher @whiterosekiszka @sacredjake @beingextraisfun @malany-gvf @joshysgirl @ascendingtothestarssasone @amygvf13 @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @alwaysonthemend @lvnterninthenight

[gothicprep]

in december, many of us watched a 4 hour long argument about plagiarism on youtube, and how bad this is for creativity more broadly. but here's another thing that bugs the hell out of me, that i'd argue is just as bad for creativity online: influencer circle-jerk. luckily, i can make my case for how disheartening this is in under 4 hours.

there's a podcast i listen to sometimes called otherworld. it's aiming to be the "this american life" of ghost stories, but its secondary purpose is also to give advertising plugs to the host's insufferable LA transplant friends. it's incidentally good when it's not doing that, but it's insufferable to listen to when it is.

some of the podcast guests include:

bonnie mckee, songwriter for the worst things that plagued your ears in the early 2010s, such as "california gurls" by katy perry and "dynamite" by taio cruz. poor bonnie's solo career never really took off – can't imagine why that is – but she's still giving it a go. incidentally, she started re-recording some songs that were left on the cutting room floor for an earlier album of hers in 2022, which lines up with when she appeared on the pod.

kareem rahma, also known as kareem on instagram, host of a tiktok series that's basically just bothering people on the subway for content. he's also co-founder of something called "nameless network", with some ex-vice employees (put a pin in vice, we'll come back to it later). the purpose of the company is making viral hack shit: "i promise this made for instagram pizza museum is more than a cynical waste of your time. pwomise 🥺". hmm, what do you know. vice is the outlet covering it. the host says they met at a dinner party thing in los angeles.

two episodes about a married couple named sean johns and gina. they're psychics but the real deal! there's definitely a real deal for this sort of thing! the wife is, as you may have already guessed, big on tiktok, and you should listen to her because she uhhh knows what she's talking about for real. not like those other fraudulent people on witchtok (which is all of them, including her, but whatever). unfortunately i forget what her handle was, but i'm sure someone who has more time on their hands to dig for it can dredge it up.

two more episodes with, what do you know, a clairvoyant. did you know that she's the real deal and not one of those fake ones? she's referenced in the episode series prior to this, and what a fucking coincidence, the host of the show had an appointment with her before he began this project. oh, and someone from a more recent episode happened to be a client of hers too. (side note: one episode has a recorded reading of hers, and it'll come as no shock to anyone, but she's just as vague as every other hippie con artist who does this shit for a living)

one guest named alex doesn't outwardly seem like he's an influencer or trying to be, but it's probably worth noting that he's told the same story on at least one other podcast, so who knows what this guy's motivations are

gabi abrao, another influencer and one of the countless writers riding rupi kuar's coattails. i probably don't need to elaborate further.

actress and comedian sarah sherman guest hosts one of the episodes for no clear reason.

jack corbett, who makes bad tiktoks about economics for npr, is another guest. i'd be more forgiving of him, because i don't think it's possible to make good tiktoks about economics, but sadly his episode was one of the worst on the show. guy gets drunk after a bad breakup, fucks his leg up, blames it on tiktok astrologers cursing him. whatever dude. and get this – he and the host both say that they met at the same dinner party that the kareem guy i mentioned earlier was at.

bear in mind, this is only nine episodes out of a 65 episode show, but i think that's enough to say that there's at least some clout-sharkery going on. it doesn't help that the "official" subreddit – meaning, the one moderated by one of the show's producers – has a tendency to go dark when the fans complain about one of the guests. this happened with the psychic married couple and the npr tiktok guy. it's one of those things that makes you wonder if the motivation behind the blackouts is that the complaints give away that this is a bad avenue to plug your shit.

i'm not the only one who's suspicious of this. see this post on the fanmade sub, which asks, "what are the odds that this podcast is total bullshit?" OP defends this in part by saying, "Jack [the host] literally got famous from being a troll/social media guru/guy who’s good at making things go viral"

about that. you might remember this dumb thing that went viral in 2018 of a mural in LA that only influencers could take pictures at. it ended up being a publicity stunt to promote a webshow that jack from this podcast was attached to. what makes that vice article i linked to, imo, really unethical is that the author, justin caffier, is friends with jack. or at the very least, well-acquainted enough that jack was a guest on an episode of caffier's podcast that was published a few months earlier.

i don't know. when you dig shit like this up, it just seems like there's so much content out there that's mostly created as avenues for the worst people alive to network with one another. or if not that, this is the foundation for an argument that those vice pieces like "some fucking idiots took 20 tabs of LSD in the desert" solely exist for whoever wrote them to advertise their vapid friends' social media whatever. and nothing good ever comes out of it. it's a shallow gambit for quick money and attention, designed to be thrown away and forgotten about in 2 weeks. it's depressing!

jack holds that "otherwold isn't a show about the paranormal, it's a show about people". and given all this, that statement feels revealing.

[violetsaffron5]

Beautiful Disaster (3)

← Chapter 2 • series masterlist • Chapter 4 →

↳ 3 | Red Flag

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

settling into life at Tokyo Tech and learning more about Gojo

words: 3.6k

an: Gojo's out here thinkin' he's on The Bachelor

Taglist • Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

Life goes on like normal after that. As normal as it seemingly can be being a transfer student and learning your way around campus and to classes.

Your mother tried calling a few times, and you still haven’t answered any of them, opting to just reply via text simply stating “I’m alive.” There’s nothing in the world that would bring you to willingly answer her calls or call her for any reason, life or death.

Not after what she did.

But you don’t let yourself dwell on it. The only time you’ll really need to deal with her is when you go home for school breaks, and once you graduate and are on your own, you really won’t have to ever deal with her hot and cold personality ever again.

And it’ll feel so good having that weight lifted off your shoulders.

Aside from that, the week has been a little boring. You’ve yet to have any classes with your new found friends, not even seeing them after classes, which has been fine.

You’ve been so busy during the days and ensuring you’re getting your homework done that you’ve been exhausted in the evenings, doing little else but laying on your bed listening to whatever music your roommate put on to do her work.

Nitta Akari has been assigned as your roommate. She hasn’t spoken to you much over the last few days but she’s sweet and from what you’ve gathered she’s friends with Utahime and the silver haired woman Gojo was talking to on the night of the party.

Mei, you found out her name is and all three of them are part of the school choir group.

So far, you’ve had two classes with Gojo, both of which he completely ignored your presence in. Not totally surprising considering you don’t know each other.

You’re a little embarrassed actually, that you took the first opportunity that presented itself to jump into bed with someone you don’t know.

But maybe that’s a good thing. You do need to move on, your ex having left the worst fucking taste in your mouth - the other reason you chose to jump ship from Kyoto to Tokyo.

And besides, the night with Gojo was fun - more than fun actually. Sloppy, drunk, thrilling and you’re not sure you’ve ever had sex like that before; animalistic, almost passionate in a way. Not in an intimate sense, but truly able to let loose and let yourself enjoy the pleasure.

Plus it was good. Way better than you could have hoped from a drunken one-night stand.

Walking into your next class, World History, you notice Gojo sitting a few rows from the back. It’s impossible not to notice him really, with his long legs spread in front of him.

He’s in dark jeans and a hoodie, hair tucked into a gray beanie - the darkened ensemble making his porcelain skin appear more pale than you remember it being from the other classes you’ve had with him earlier in the week.

Gojo doesn’t bother to look up from his phone as you take a seat, two rows from the front next to a guy with black hair tied into two space buns and what appears to be a black tattooed line running across his nose.

His eyes flicker from you to the front of the room uncomfortably several times as you study his face - you really don’t mean to be rude and stare but you can’t help but wonder how many other people around campus have face tattoos.

So far, this guy and Sukuna are the only ones you’ve come across, but two in one place is far more than you’ve ever met in your life.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear your name being called. “Didn’t think I’d get so lucky, having a class with you.” Suguru says as he takes a seat in the row behind you, “I see you’ve met my man, Choso.”

Choso turns and grins at Suguru as they clap their hands together quickly before really introducing himself to you. You apologize for staring and make small talk for a few minutes before asking what his major is.

“Fine Arts with a minor in Art History.” He says, eyes flicking between yours with a sheepish smile.

It’s not really that surprising, as you take the time to look him over now that he’s facing you.

He’s attractive with tired dark eyes, two circular rings in both nostrils of his pointed nose. Choso’s hair looks soft and silky, bangs framing his face nicely and you’d venture to guess he’d look just as good, if not better with his hair down.

“So, do you think you’ll be around this weekend?” Suguru asks, leaning forward on his elbows waiting for your reply. His golden, feline eyes are bright today, unlike the last time you saw them - dark, tired and seemingly annoyed as you made your way down the steps of his place with Gojo in tow.

“I mean, as far as I know, yeah.” You reply, chewing on the side of your lip.

“Great.” He answers, cocky grin growing wider, “we’re having another party at our place, you should come. We’ll hang out this time.”

There’s something about Suguru that just seems so familiar, but in the rush and excitement of visiting a new school, going to parties and starting classes you didn’t really take the time to evaluate what it is.

But seeing him sitting here, leaned over looking at you with bright eyes and a never ending smirk, you realize he looks very similar to your ex - and the thought makes you want to turn away and never look at the man in the face ever again.

There are differences; Suguru’s eyes are golden compared to honey brown, the slope of his nose is slightly sharper, and his hair is much longer. He also emits a calming aura that just makes you want to be around him.

So different from Kenji, at least in the end.

You came to this school for a fresh start, to be who you want to be and not weighed down by events of the past. Suguru is a different person than your ex, and even though there are physical similarities, that’s seemingly where it ends. 

It’s not as if you couldn’t see anything happening with him in the future, it’s really just that looking at him reminds you of your ex and you’re not really ready for that.

Ultimately you decide to go to the party and resolve to find a way to keep a friendship between the two of you, and not let it go beyond that.

Smiling, you shift and look away from his gaze and you’re really unable to help the way your eyes land on Gojo, just behind Suguru’s shoulder. He’s not paying any attention to you still, but he’s also ignoring the girls that are sitting around him obviously trying to garner his attention to no avail.

You take the opportunity to note the cut on his eyebrow and lip that seem to be healing nicely - the little red starburst you left on his adams apple is still clear as day.

Clearly he isn’t worried about it, not having taken the time to hide it like you did your own.

You nod towards Gojo before looking back at Suguru, “thought you’d want to sit next to him.”

Suguru turns around, sees Gojo and gives a low chuckle, “nah, looks like he has plenty of company. You on the other hand- have lunch plans today?”

“I actually do. I’m meeting Shoko and Utahime after class to catch up before the next.”

Your gaze is lingering on Gojo as you speak and just before you turn around his crystalline eyes flicker up to meet yours. They seem to brighten a little, catching you staring at him, before he gives a salacious grin, all teeth.

There’s a brunette sitting next to him whose gaze follows his and scoffs when she sees your cheeks flush. Looking away quickly you shake your head and bite your lip, turning around just as the mountainous man from the party walks in.

You recognize him immediately as Fushiguro Toji, your professor for this class. Broad shoulders, bright emerald eyes you missed with the dingy light of the basement you first saw him in. His ebony hair hangs down to his ears, a scar on the right side of his lip extending down to his chin.

Even though he has to be at least twenty years older than you, he’s attractive in his button down shirt and black slacks.

“Alright, everyone, I’m Toji Fushiguro,” he announces, deep voice reverberating through the room.

There’s a girl at the front of the class with a light lemon colored top on; a soft brunette with blonde highlights who gives him a small wave, and you can see the way the corner of his lip tugs up and gaze lingers momentarily before grabbing a few things from his desk, starting the lecture.

“Who can tell me-” you zone out, slumping onto the table in front of you with a notepad prepared to take notes, readying yours for the most boring hour and a half of your life.

Making your way across campus, coffee in hand, you notice Shoko and Utahime sitting at a bench in the courtyard.

The spot they’ve chosen is beautiful, semi-isolated due to being near several cherry blossom trees that will look beautiful in the Spring. The courtyard is large and open with students sitting on the ground talking, some walking to their next class while others sit at the other seats available to them.

“I have been dying to ask you about this all week,” Shoko starts before you’ve even had a chance to set your bag down and take a seat. She doesn’t even properly greet you, “tell us everything.”

“Please don’t,” Utahime interjects with a groan.

You don’t have to ask what she’s referring to, to know Utahime told her she saw Gojo taking you upstairs over the weekend.

Opting to spare the dirty details, you just tell them the quick events of what happened - you had sex, fell asleep and then fucked again in the morning. When he said he’d call you before you left, you knew he was lying because he doesn’t have your number and that was the end of it.

“I’m actually kind of surprised he didn’t ask for your number,” Shoko shrugs, “that’s kind of his thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“He dates a lot. Pretty sure he’s dated pretty much everyone on campus at this point.” Utahime shares. You can tell she’s bored of this conversation by the way she’s picking at her coffee cup absentmindedly.

That… stings a little. New girl and the campus ladies man clearly has no interest in you after one night. It really shouldn’t be such a bother, and it probably wouldn’t be if you didn’t have a good time, didn’t enjoy the little bit of conversation you had with him, even if there wasn’t any real substance to it.

“Including the two of you?” You ask curiously and they both stare at you like you’ve grown an additional head, or three.

“Fuck no,” Utahime’s voice is filled with disgust while Shoko slaps her shoulder gently, “we’ve known him our whole lives. That would just be weird.”

While nodding your head and humming, you notice Mei making her way towards the table you, Shoko and Utahime occupy, hips swaying dramatically with each step she takes, hair gleaming in the sunlight until she steps in the shade.

She glares at you from the corner of her sharp eye, nose turned up before addressing the other two, “you’re coming to our fundraiser this weekend, right?” she asks before a smug grin spreads across her face, moving a few strands of hair away from her face with long slender fingers, “make sure to bring lots of money with you.”

“Oh, what’s it for?” You ask curiously.

Mei stares at you for a moment, eyes flickering across your features, “choir.”

She doesn’t bother saying anything else, and her voice was filled with venom when replying to you, so you opt to not try and interact anymore. She talks with Shoko and Utahime for a few minutes before finally sauntering off, stopping at a few other groups along the way to likely say the same things to them.

Shoko rolls her eyes before pulling a cigarette out and lighting it, “I’m not convinced she isn’t hoarding the money for herself. It’s gotta be why she likes Gojo so much.”

Your brows furrow at the same time your ears perk at his name, “so she’s-”

“His girlfriend.” Utahime interrupts and you immediately feel like you want to vomit.

“No,” Shoko clarifies, glaring at Utahime, “well, kind of?” This is not helping the churning in your stomach and your face must show it because she’s quick to add, “she’s probably the most consistent out of everyone he’s dated but he’s just kind of casually dating some people right now.”

Shoko quickly excuses herself after that remark, saying she’s going to the vending machine, asking if you want anything while Utahime packs her things to run off to her next class. 

You busy yourself with gathering your things, waiting on Shoko to come back - she’s been gone several minutes and you can only assume she's taking a few moments to smoke again before being in her next class, one you realized on the way to the courtyard the two of you have together.

“Finally,” you sigh, placing your belongings in your bag as someone sits next to you, only to look up and be met with a lanky white haired man with little round sunglasses on.

Gojo sits, resting his chin on his hand, elbow on the table, “sorry to keep you waiting, baby,” he purrs.

There’s no denying Gojo looked great over the weekend when the two of you hooked up, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t look great in class with his hoodies and joggers, even sexy with his busted lip and eyebrow.

But outside with the rays of the sun shining down on him as if he’s some holy, honored being worthy of being worshiped - he looks ethereal. He’s got a cigarette burning between his fingers, little round sunglasses on now that he’s outside, so dark they match the rest of his ensemble.

“Oh- uh, hey, Gojo,” you look around confused wondering why he’s choosing to pay attention to you now, “what are you doing here?”

“Satoru,” he easily corrects, “and you didn’t give me your number the other day and Suguru won’t give it to me, so I had to resort to stalking you.”

Your eyes widen at his comment before changing the subject, “Why are your glasses so dark?”

“Light eyes, sensitive to the light, and all that.” He replies easily, waving his hand in front of his face. You can’t see his eyes but you can feel his gaze on you.

“Hm. Is that genetic?”

“Haven’t even gone out on a date,” he muses, “and you’re already asking about genetics.”

Your cheeks flush immediately at his comment knowing he’s teasing just to get a reaction, and hating that it’s working so easily.

“Speaking of which,” Satoru continues before you have a chance to reply, holding his phone out to you, “give me your number.”

Given what you just heard about him several minutes prior, you’re a bit taken aback by the fact that he’s asking for your number now, rather than at literally any other point during the week. 

“From what I hear, you’ve probably got plenty of other numbers to keep you entertained. So why mine, now?”

It’s likely because he was just described as a serial dater, looking for another person to go out with for his own amusement or ego. He might like you a little, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a slight connection with him, though that could easily be explained as physical attraction.

He chuckles, “love that you’ve been asking around about me already.”

“Trust me, I didn’t have to ask- they were quick to tell me how much of a whore you are, not even thirty seconds ago.”

“Ouch- that really hurts coming from you.” He feigns heartbreak by putting his hand to his chest, pouting dramatically.

His facade breaks, chuckling as you tease, “Oh, I’m sure you’re absolutely devastated.”

“Do you think I’m a whore?”

You sigh, grabbing the phone he’s still holding out for you. You don’t even have to do anything to see all the messages littering his phone - they’re just right there.

Several new ones come in, as you hold it, from unknown numbers asking when they can go out again. It’s likely his interest in you will pass soon anyway. You’re aware that you’re new, and that adds a little something extra to the table when compared to girls he’s seen time and time again.

“Well, I don’t really know you, but I’m gonna say probably, judging by the amount of DM’s you have.” You answer honestly, “I still don’t see why you want my number.”

Despite being a chronic dater, he doesn’t appear to have many contacts in his phone. Just his roommates, parents and Shoko- and you feel a little special about that because all the messages he seems to have are DM’s through apps, not personal texts.

“So we can go out, obviously,” he says and you can just hear that he rolled his eyes by the tone of his voice. “I had a good time with you. Just thought maybe we could have a good time in other ways too.”

He says it so nonchalantly that it’s hard to get a real reading on his interest level, but when you enter your contact and hand his phone back he looks at it for a second before smiling and slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Your other girlfriends aren’t a good enough time?” You ask curiously, trying and failing to see his interest in you.

“Really want me to answer that?”

Taking a deep breath and chewing the side of your cheek, you debate on how to answer. You might as well keep up the feeling of being special while it lasts - you’ll have to ask Shoko if he tends to give his number out like that with the sole intent of bringing on those feelings of specialty to him right away, or if this is new territory.

“No,” you sigh before responding, “not unless you tell me how boring they were.”

He chuckles, it’s low, amused, “mm, jealous already. Love it.”

“I am not jealous, Satoru,” you clarify with a laugh, grinning back. You can’t even help it- his smile is infectious.

“Sure, babe.” He’s grinning, loving the way his name sounds rolling off your tongue so easily, “so, date?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth contemplating his question. Giving your number to someone is one thing, but actually going out with them is a whole other ball game. Sure, he seems insistent, like it’s something he really wants to do. And sure, you’ve already slept with the man.

But dating isn’t something you’re all that focused on. You need to make sure you keep your grades up so you can graduate as early as possible.

Plus, last time you dated someone it ended so disastrously bad you actually decided you’d rather live as a hermit and never go out again.

But now that a new opportunity is sitting in front of you, it’s hard to make a decision.

On one hand, he knows nothing of you or your past- it’s a fresh start and that’s the whole reason you transferred to begin with.

On the other, thoughts of your time with Kenji flash through your mind. The happiness, but mostly the heartbreak and how much it hurt, the anger and resentment after. Were the good times even worth it in the end?

You know you’re thinking about this too much. It’s one date. It’s not as if that’s going to end with you laying in bed crying to yourself about how you thought you’d end up getting married and starting a family.

It doesn’t have to be more than it is - two people going out for an evening getting to know one another.

You’re smiling when your eyes meet his again, and his smirk only widens to a grin, knowing your answer before you’ve said it, “yeah, okay. We can go out.”

“Satoru,” a sing-songy voice calls out, “are you ready to go, baby?” The brunette from class doesn’t look in your direction and you don’t turn to face her either, it doesn’t stop you from seeing her cross her arms in your peripherals though.

“Yeah, just a sec,” he replies, not turning to meet her gaze when she clicks her tongue and places her hand on his shoulder suggestively. He pulls out his phone, opens the calendar app and looks through the next several days, “I can squeeze you in next Thursday.”

“Uh- okay…?” You scoff before he winks and the two of them walk away, her arm hooked into Satoru’s.

“You okay?” Shoko asks gently, walking back over where you’re sitting. You’re more shocked than anything, that that just happened immediately- like the universe was really trying to shove it in your face that even though you felt special talking to him, in the grand scheme of things, you’re really not.

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s just head to class.”

@petalsrdead @sugurunicorn @niki-sun @lilith412426 @sofiaconlaz @lxvephxbic @kash2 @violetsapplejuice @iam-mia9 @laylasbunbunny @creolequeen11210 @xiaosie @lem-hhn @s-witch-bitch @yogurttea @slut-jr @watyousayin

[thewolvesof1998]

Weekend WIP Game

Tagged by @wikiangela @jesuisici33 and @daffi-990

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more)

1. WIP List:

Love list Buddie

Motorcycle fic

Buddie MMA Rivals AU

Someone to be Gentle- Buddie fic

For you mi amor, I choose death/Buddie Mafia 

Librarian AU/Let me check you out

The heatwave fic

You make bad day infinitely better

Buddie rodeo/Alright Cowboy, Go Get 'Em

Vampire/Werewolf Buddie/Halloween fic

Only the already bad can be influenced/Crop top and short shorts fic

Street racing/Fast and Furious AU

Buddie- You belong with me fic

Buck & Eddie wedding- Something wrong in the village

Awkward Sex Buddie

Post lawsuit- I'll Call Your Mum fic

LA Zoo tiktok guy Buck 

Buck gets dumps, gets drunk with Eddie and thinks they slept together fic 

Don’t go where I can’t follow fic

sword buddie pt. 2/ Under the Guise of Violence 

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

So technically Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em is sitting at 17,852 words but most of that is chapter 1 and 2 which I’ve already posted. Unpost WIP is Buddie MMA Rivals AU ( I don’t mind if we fight, If you make me bleed) which is sitting at 4,681 words, plus a few thousand more in planning.

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

Buddie MMA Rivals AU has 9 chapters planned, others might get longer like For you mi amor, I choose death/Buddie Mafia or Street racing/Fast and Furious AU but I haven’t planned them out yet so I’m not sure. 

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

I’m really enjoying writing Only the Already Bad Can Be Influenced/Crop top and short shorts fic it’s so ridiculous and I’m enjoying writing something so silly. 

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

Post lawsuit- I'll Call Your Mom fic Definitely, in fact, I haven’t even started this fic because I know it’s going to be a tough write and I wanted to be in the right headspace myself before I tackle the tough subjects that are going to be in it. It kinda scares me, I don't want it to send me into a depressive spiral but I also know it will be kinda cathartic so 🤷🏻

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

Librarian AU/Let me check you out and You make bad day infinitely better because I'm writing them from someone else's idea. Like don't get me wrong I love the ideas but I'm constantly doubting if it's what they had in mind and if I'm actually doing it justice.

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

I don't usually get my fics beta read (not that I'm against it.) But I'll probably get my angst fics that deal with hard topics a sensitivity reader to make sure I'm dealing with them with respect. I do send snippets to @eddiediaztho and we've brainstormed a few ideas for some of these WIPs.

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?

Oh yeah all of them at some point and most of them atm.

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?

No major oc, just a few names here and there especially in Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em because none of the fire fam are in this fic so I had to create some characters to be in Buck and Eddie’s life. 

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

I don't know I write a lot of smut. I suppose it depends because in sword buddie pt. 2/ Under the Guise of Violence and For you mi amor, I choose death/Buddie Mafia I'll probably be writing kinks I haven't before but I really want The heatwave fic to be super sexy like all the feel and just filthy sex (think @forthewolves vibes).

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

Post lawsuit- I'll Call Your Mom(Noah Kahan) fic deals with Buck's terrible headspace after the lawsuit and something he tries to do to end it all or Don’t go where I can’t follow fic in which Buck is dying and Eddie is begging him to stay. Both will have happy/hopeful endings because that's something I need.

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?

Either You Make Bad Day Infinitely Better or Someone to be Gentle- Buddie fic I think both of them really take the time to get into Eddie's head and what he's thinking and feeling. Also, Chapter Two of Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em explores Buck and his insecurities (sprinkled in between the smut of course).

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em because of the Rodeo and the time I put in researching rodeos and bull riding. However I also like the more subtle setting of You Make Bad Day Infinitely Better- Eddie's child's home; the backyard, their childhood hideout and his old room. The setting plays a big part in the story so I tried to pay a lot of attention to it and make it as detailed as possible.

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

Probably the ones that I've had to research a lot for so Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em and Buddie MMA Rivals AU. Also, all the artwork I've done/doing of Rodeo Star Buck.

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

Ohhh Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em because it's the longest fic and my first multi-chapter fic.

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

No, but I do turn some dreams into wips.

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that that your other fics don't?

Street racing/Fast and Furious AU probably because it's based on a movie and I haven't done an AU based on another story yet. And it's going to have street racing which will be interesting to write.

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?

Buck gets dumps, gets drunk with Eddie and thinks they slept together fic is going to be silly and goofy and I can't wait to write it.

19. 9. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

No, but I do want to eventually, I'm still getting used to writing Buddie and fanfiction in general.

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs

So I was right, no one was able to guess what WIP my Out of Context Line was from! It's from Someone to be Gentle- Buddie fic which is a 5+1 fic: Five times Buck is gentle with Eddie + One time Eddie repays his gentleness. It's based on my poem of the same name! The snippet is from the first chapter called To Hold Me While I Cry.

tagging (no pressure): @wildlife4life​ @eddiebabygirldiaz​ @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire ​ @bekkachaos @buddierights @forthewolves @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @eddiediaztho @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherbuckley @hoodie-buck @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @sammy-souffle