#we had a back door so I'd just prop that open and let the nice air in

[meownotgood]

it's starting to smell like autumn

[thebearer]

the feeling |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: a little tipsy, definitely hungry, and missing carmen, you find your way to the restaurant after closing to see him.

my first work/ blurb here <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!

contains: 18+minors dni. mentions of a gun and alcohol but not in a bad way lol? established relationship. slight mentions of a dom/sub dynamic. language. but really just fluff fluff fluff <3

"Yo! We're fucking closed!" Richie's voice boomed, throwing down the rag on the table. He huffed, teeth gritting, trying to remember to count yet he was still reaching for the gun in holster. Sure, he could be calm, but he still needed to be safe.

The pounding on the glass continued, a muffled, giggly scream from the other side of the blinds hiding the entrance. "Richie! Let us innnn!"

"Cousin," Carmen yelled from the back, running a bandaged hand through his curls. "What's goin' on?"

Richard rolled his eyes, peeking through the blinds to confirm his suspicions. Just as he thought, there you were, standing on the sidewalk in fucking Chicago with your heels in your hand, leaning onto your friend for support. Carmy was gonna be pissed, that was for certain.

"It's your girl." Richie scoffed, twisting the lock so it unfastened with a loud click, the bell trilling when he pulled it open.

"Richie!" You cheered, staggering on your feet. "Told you they'd still be here." You told Alicia, looping an arm around hers.

"My girl?" Carmen repeated, pushing the swinging doors of the kitchen, heavy chef's clogs on the freshly mopped ground.

"The hell you doin'?" Richie looked at you, face deadpanned and unimpressed. His arm held the door open for you and your friend anyways, jerking his head so the two of you huddled in.

"We did karaoke tonight." You grinned at Richie, clutching the nearest booth when you passed to steady yourself.

Karaoke night was a once a month occurrence, down at Trader Todd's. Carmen had went twice with you and Alicia before, it was a little too touristy for him, but he liked watching you sing. He'd laughed so hard his sides hurt when you serenaded a Nickelback song to him because "it seemed like something he'd like". It was good, nice to laugh like that. It was nice to be with you.

Carmen furrowed his brow, hands thrown out towards you lightly. "What are ya doin'?" He asked, rag slung over his shoulder.

You rolled your lip, eyes trailing down his tattooed, veiny arms. "Just left karaoke." You hummed, striding playfully over to him. "Got hungry and I just so happen to know a place with the best fries in the world."

Carmen snorted when you looped your arms around his neck, swaying with him gently. Richie huffed, eyeing Alicia at the booth. "We're closed. Didn't you see the sign?"

"Can't make an exception for us?" You pouted, looking over your shoulder at Richie. "C'mon, we came all this way for nothing? Not a single fry?"

"You walked here?" Carmen's eyes flashed at you.

"You need a cuppa coffee is what you need." Richie rolled his eyes, ignoring his cousin's comment.

"Ooh, I'd take a cup of coffee." Alicia nodded, head propped on her hand at the freshly cleaned booth, still a little wet and sticky. "And a slice of cake."

"Mmm," You nodded in agreement, grinning at her.

"Hey," Carmen's hand cradled your jaw gently, tugging your gaze back to him. "Did you walk here?"

"No." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, curling into his calloused hands anyways. "We Ubered."

"Good." Carmen hummed, his hand pressing to the small of your back, pushing you closer into his touch. "I'd have your ass if you did, you hear me?" He muttered, low and gravelly in your ear, hand trailing down to the swell of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh through your dress. A warning or simply just him being playful, you weren't sure, but you flushed nonetheless, knees buckling.

"Kitchen's closed." Carmen announced, looking at you and Alicia, both your boos and cries of protest a chorus bouncing off the empty walls. "But I'll make you a fresh pot of coffee and see if we have any left over cake, but you," His finger poked your side, leaving you squealing and squirming in his grasp. "Have to clean up."

"Yes, Chef." You saluted him playfully.

Carmen rolled his eyes, but pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. Brief and light, not nearly the same kiss he gave you this morning before he left for work. When you were still rolled up in the warm covers, eyes fluttering with sleep, the light of the morning on your skin.

Carmen patted your ass lightly, before turning back to go to the kitchen. You grinned triumphantly, snagging two forks and napkins before sliding into the booth across from Alicia. Richie's face fell, dropping the rag on the table he was cleaning.

"Oh, no fuckin' way. Cousin!" Richie yelled, stomping towards the kitchen. "Carmen, we're closed!"

"I got is, cousin. You can go." Carmen nodded towards the door, scooping the ground beans into the pot. "Gotta take them home anyways. I'll finish up."

Richie's face fell slightly, eyes bouncing from Carmen back to you and your friend, giggling over your phones, slumped into the booths.

Carmen looked at him, brow raised at his displeasure. "What?"

Richie huffed. "I just finished cleanin' the tables, and-and I'm tryin' real hard here to help you out and be better, but cousin, you gotta-"

"-They'll clean it up." Carmen said firmly, pressing the button firmly. "Or my girl will. I'll make sure of it, alright? I got it."

"Carmy-"

"-Look, Richie, I appreciate you helping me. I do. You've done real good too." Carmen said genuinely. "But I got it covered. Why don't you go sit with them? Tell Alicia the Bill Murray story, she'll like it." He nodded towards your friend.

Richie's ears perked, turning to look at the girl across from you. His love life was still shit, that was for sure, bad date after bad date. "You think?" Richie asked in a low tone.

Carmen shrugged casually. "Sure, yeah. Watch. Hey, baby," Carmen called to you. "You ever told Alicia about when Richie met Bill Murray?"

"Oh my God, no." You giggled, head tipping back onto the booth.

"Wait," Alicia looked over at Richie with a small grin. "Bill Murray? Ghostbusters, Bill Murray?"

"Yes, holy shit, Richie you hafta tell her." You giggled, tapping the table lightly. "He got him to do his voicemail and-"

"- Hold on, you gotta start from the beginning or it'll make no sense." Richie held his hands up, sauntering over to the two of you. "Alright, so I'm absolutely hammered. It's six-forty-five in the fucking morning, me and Mikey are leavin' the bar just drunk outta our minds..." Richie pulled a chair up to the table, exaggeratedly launching into his story.

Carmen smirked to himself, cutting two slices of cake and plating them off the still warm, clean dishes. He could hear Richie's voice trilling louder and louder, your laugh a delicate melody that soothed his chest, filled it with warmth.

Carmen slid beside you, just in time for the voice mail, setting your coffee and plate next to you. You muttered a small thank you, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you moved into his side.

"No shit, it's still your voicemail?" Alicia gasped, eyes shining at Richie's

"Swear to God." Richie held his hands up. "Call it right now, you'll hear it."

Alicia looked over at you. You nodded, picking up your fork. "It's true."

"Well, now I gotta hear it for myself." Alicia declared, snatching her phone off the table. "What's your number?"

Richie flushed for a second, faltering before he sputtered out the number. You looked up at Carmen, brows raised in amusement. He shrugged lightly, pushing the coffee closer to you. "Drink it f'me, please."

You cradled the still steaming mug, lifting it to your lip while Alicia's jaw dropped, hearing Bill Murray's voice on the other end. "Oh my God!" She gasped, laughing. "That is so fucking amazing!"

"Thank you!" Richie threw a hand out to her. "It is fucking amazing. My proudest accomplishment- well, beside my daughter, of course, but a close second."

"How old is your daughter?" Alicia scooted closer, lashes batting towards Richie as he pulled out his phone to flick through photos.

You smirked, looking up at Carmen. "Thanks for the cake," You hummed, resting your head on his arm. "And the coffee."

"Anything for you, c'mon." Carmen shrugged, trying to hide the blush he felt rising in his cheeks. He hadn't done this before, really, had a relationship like this. One that felt this good. One where he felt this safe with someone.

"I'll clean it up, promise." You yawned, lashes fluttering, while your head fell heavier and heavier pressed on his bicep. "Hand wash 'em if you want me too."

"I know you will." Carmen muttered, shimmying his arm out so he could wrap it around you, letting you fall into his chest.

He didn't let you clean up, though. You stayed half awake, a little woozy and sleepy in the booth, listening to Alicia and Richie's playful flirting. You'd tried to get up, but he snatched the plate gently from you before you could, nodding at you to stay put.

You held his hand the whole way back to the apartment, resting in the center console, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. Richie had offered to take Alicia home, which she eagerly agreed to, leaving the two of you to return to your own place.

Carmen shimmying your dress off you gently, tucking you under the covers with him. The apartment didn't have the same haunting presence here that his old one did. Not tainted with nightmares or fears. No, here he felt good. Happy memories he'd created with you, loving ones that filled his chest with contentment. He still had his moments, waking in a cold sweat screaming and clinging to you, but they were becoming scarcer with each day. He took care of you, and you took care of him- it was everything he'd ever fucking wanted.

[yrsdf]

{AGE GAP: simon!30-40- reader!20 MDNI}

|tags: innocent!reader, dominant!simon|

BEGINNING SUMMARY

you came back home from college for the summer, you walk in the door to see your parents sitting at the dinner table with a man, he was wearing a balaclava with a skull attached to it, you noticed his broad appearance, the tattoos on his forearms and his thick british accent, his back faced you and your father called you over.

“Honey bun!! Oh welcome home sweetie!”

Your mother stood walking up to you, she engulfed you in a hug and you nearly melted, the scent of your home comforted your senses and you hugged her back, your items dropped to your side, you only had two bags, you were never a HUGE packer.

“God mom… you have no idea how amazing it is to be back, i mean it”

She sighed and nodded, she backed up and rubbed your arm in a comforting manner, you didn't even realize your dad had followed her and he opened his arms, his bear hugs were the ones you loved the most, he squoze you with brute strength making you giggle.

“Ohhh look at my ladybug! You're so grown up.”

He let go and you noticed the skull man's eyes boring into you he stood walking up to you three, he stood his height was towering, your father laughed

“Oh yea! Sorry hun, that's simon.. Me and your mum are leaving town for a bit for a small getaway, he offered to watch the house!”

You raised an eyebrow

“Dad.? I'm 20…? I can definitely watch the house on my own.”

Before you could continue to protest simons overbearing figure reached a handout to you and offered a handshake, even though that intimidating demeanor he held, you took his hand, his calloused rough hands tickled your hand making you shiver, he shook it softly before letting go of your hand.

“I know I know.. But you're still my little girl, I'd be a bad dad if I didn't make sure you were safe! The cars are already packed and we just want you to know we are a call away.”

They said their bye and gave hugs and kisses, before slipping out of the door and shutting it, you turnt to look at simon his eyes were cold and dark, but not in a mean or hateful way, more of in a flat expression type of way he speaks, tone deep and rough his accent rolls nicely off his tongue.

“Well, i suppose i didn't quite introduce myself..Im simon as your father said, since im the one in charge ill set some ground rules, no staying out late be home by 9:00, make sure i know when any friends come over, and lastly, be in bed by 10:00…”

Your mouth fell wide open in shock, so yea you assumed  he would be maybe a little laid back or cool but definitely not, you scoffed and rolled your eyes before grabbing your bags storming up the stairs and into your room slamming your door, he didn't necessarily care if you were upset by his ground rules, simply he sat on the couch in your living room propping is feet up on your coffee table and watched tv.

{a few days pass}

It was about 4 am, simon was dead asleep on the couch downstairs and you snuck your boyfriend into your room, he fell on the floor and you shushed him giggling, your boyfriend kissed you, and pushed you onto the bed and he sloppily made way with you, he struggled undressing you and himself, he was in his boxers, and you were in your bra and panties, you heard simons boots from downstairs and you hurried your boyfriend into the closet before quickly throwing on an oversized shirt, the door swung open and you were standing there awkwardly, he knew something was up.

“Heard some stuff knockin around up here…”

 his eyes looked at the close on the floor and you internally face palmed, then to your surprise he began searching your room, he stopped at the closet, and he opened it your boyfriend looked terrified.simon grabbed the boy by his shoulder and pulled him out of the closet throwing him to the floor

“Now what the hell did I tell you?”

His voice was raised and demanding as his eyes dug into your soul, you mouth dry and speechless as he looked now to your sobbing boyfriend you scoffed

“Seriously Anthony…? Seriously, you're crying.”

You said with a aggravated tone simon laughed ever so slightly

“Y’know love, if you wanted a good time you could have picked anything other than this slag…”

He looked at the boy

“Now leave this fucking house you twat”

The boy scrammed running out, leaving his clothes and dignity behind and Simon looked at you, you looked at him and you looked disappointed in yourself and he sighed walking up to you, he caressed your chin and had you look up at him.

“Has he ever pleased you love..?”

You shook your head no, and you kept eye contact with him, he nodded leading you to your bed, he had you sit on it as he crouched in front of you.

“Then how bout you let me take care of you hm..?”

You thought about it, and soon you nodded once again, he lifted your legs to hang over his shoulders, he lifted his mask above his mouth and kept your legs parted with his hands that were now gripping the plush of your thighs, his breath fanned on your sensitive clit before he began to eat you alive, Your fingers are tangling in his hair, pulling and tugging at the roots until he lets out a low groan.at this exact moment nothing more matters to him than to have you cumming all over his tongue over and over, sweet juices coating every inch of his mouth until it’s all he can taste

His movements continue on for a few more minutes.

“simon..,” 

you whimper, and your core tightens as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

“C-Can’t take much more… Gonna—fuck—gonna cum”

simon's hips buck against the mattress to their own will, and his eyes pierce through your skull as he chases the stimulation against his neglected cock. He's desperate, starving, driven with the need to hear you cry out his name until your voice becomes hoarse. He can’t stop, not now, not when your thighs are shaking around his head and his tongue is swirling around your clit. his dick aches and leaks, he thinks he might be close to, he is sure of it when he throbs in his boxers at the sound of your whimpers.

Your juices are coating his tongue with the sweetest taste and his ears are ringing with your pleas, but he isn't even satisfied yet.

“Hmmm love…?” he mutters against your cunt, his lips ghosting over your throbbing clit and tongue flicking against it. “You want more?”

He buries his face between your legs, feels your body convulse and your mouth let out soft whimpers.he can hear a low rumble in the back of his skull and feels a fire ignite in his guts and his teeth are nipping at your thigh and his mouth his slick with your juices, tears streaming down your face .

“That's it, doll..,” 

he coos down at you, his tongue running laps around your sore clip until you're seeing stars burst behind your eyes.

 “Show me how good I make you feel. Go on, keep crying, you dirty slut…, let me see your tears”

You came undone on his tongue, your body jolting and convulsing with each stroke of his tongue, he bit into your thigh leaving a bruising tooth mark as he kissed it, he had to leave his mark somehow? He leaned his head against your inner thigh and admired how peaceful our sleeping body was, proud of how he was the one that caused this.

[moralesmilesanhour]

Miles (1610 or 42 it doesn't matter to me really) x alt black!reader because i've been drawing it and i love it so far and i would for you do your own version of it

I've seen this prompt circulating for a while now and was never sure how I'd approach it sooo let's go!!

she plays bass

The pads of your fingers were red and sore as you plucked the tough strings of the borrowed bass guitar. The music room was empty now, but you were allowed an extra hour of practice. An amp had even been left out for you.

Your hand struck the front of the instrument repeatedly as you approached the part of the bass line that you always seem to miss, when the metal clang of someone pushing the door open interrupted you.

The lanky boy's expression was already sorry before he even opened his mouth to speak. A green puffer jacket was thrown over his royal blue uniform blazer and engulfed him (yours was currently tied around your waist).

When he finally did speak, he laughed nervously.

"Forgot my headphones. I'll be outta your hair in a minute,"

He took a glance at your afro, picked out carefully until it was nearly twice the size of your own head like a thunder cloud. Two beaded braids framed either side of your face.

"...Which you seem to have a lot of."

You stared at him blankly.

With a tight smile, he grabbed his headphones off of a stray music stand and nearly sprinted out of the room, making sure to stumble over an untied shoelace on his way out.

The next time you saw his face was in chemistry class, as your assigned partner for a lab. As the frumpy professor explained the procedure, the boy got your attention with a whispered "Hey".

You stared at him warily through tightly-lined eyes swept over roughly with black pigment.

"Yes?"

His eyes darted back and forth before settling back onto you.

"It's uh, nice to see you again. You play guitar, right?"

"Uh-huh. Why?"

"No reason," he shrugged, scratching the back of his head. "I just thought it was...cool. What kinda music do you play?"

You gave an equally non-committal answer:

"Rock, funk, whatever has a cool bass line."

Out of curiosity, you stole a glance at his red sneakers propped up on the stool he sat on.

"Your shoes are untied."

He grinned, like he'd just made a clever joke. "It's a fashion choice. I never fall, anyway."

You snorted, "Sure."

"Aye, you wear ripped tights in the winter and turn your uniform inside-out. Lemme have this one!"

This managed to pull a giggle from you, which unfortunately caught the professor's attention.

"Quiet in the back, please!" he admonished sharply.

Neither of you were paying attention.

You, because you were too busy trying to school your expression back to normal, and him because he liked the look of your crooked smile.

He saw it again after following the sound of your playing back to the music room during lunch time.

"Lost your headphones again, or are you following me?"

"Care to have an audience?" he smiled, grabbing a seat for himself.

You pursed your lips in consideration before answering, "Alright. You better not invite your friends in here, though. Music room's mine between classes."

He raised his hands. "You got it, relax. Not like I got friends to bring."

"Is that why you came over here to bother me even though we don't even know each other's names?"

"No, I came to figure out what that fire ass song was," the boy leaned back in his seat, and smiled. "And I'm Miles, by the way."

"Y/N," you said with a sheepish grin. "And thanks. Composed it myself."

Miles' eyes widened. "Damn. Can I hear it again?"

"Sure."

The piece was unfinished, but it was sharp, dynamic. Plenty of bass-slapping to go around. You even managed to nail that one part that your fingers usually slipped on.

"I still need to work out the ending, but...yeah. That's pretty much it," you remarked casually. "Thoughts?"

Miles let out a low whistle. "You need to finish that ASAP. Are you in a band?"

You set the guitar down, and cracked your knuckles. "Nope. I just play by my lonesome, for fun."

"So no one's heard you until now?"

"Nope."

There was silence for a beat, then you asked, "Do you play anything?"

He shook his head.

"Not all of us have that gift, I'm afraid. Wish I did, though."

You looked around the room, scanning the instruments until you landed on an acoustic guitar.

An idea.

"Say, Miles," a smirk spread across your lips, "How would you like to change that?"

Miles immediately caught your drift and perked up.

"When do we start?"

[call-me-mrs-winchester]

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. pining. teasing. underaged flirting. language. violence. gaslighting. gun play. murder. description of death.

A/N: i've had this series replaying in my mind for over a year. i'm so happy to share with everyone and i hope you enjoy it as much as i do. i've got big plans for this story! thank you all for your support, feedback (preferably good) is always appreciated!

check out the teaser if you haven’t already.

Maricela's POV

I've known the Winchester brothers for four years now. I was fifteen when they visited Kenosha, Wisconsin, on a hunt for a Lamia. I remember hearing the roar of the Impala's engine pull into the gas station before it drove to the opposite side of the pump I was using. The motor's purr cuts just before the driver's side door creaks open, freeing a tall and handsome specimen. Once he reappeared from behind the pump, I did a double take. I couldn't help but stare at the man who wielded the most beautiful green eyes, trying to place where I'd seen them before. The longer I studied his chiseled face, the more familiar it seemed.

The man noticed my gaze and turned to look at me. He gave me a small smile, and I realized what I had been doing. I tear my attention away while my cheeks begin to heat, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," I say, focusing on the ground. "You just look really familiar."

"Oh, I don't know about that," his deep voice responded. "I'm not from around here."

I nodded, taking in his words, but felt in my gut that he wasn't telling the entire truth. Instead of thinking too hard about it, I push it to the back of my brain and look at his sweet ride.

"Pretty nice car you got there." I compliment.

"Thanks," he says before flashing me a charming smile.

I was instantly mesmerized by him. I had no intention of ceasing our conversation in hopes of becoming closer to him while I had the chance. Who wouldn't do the same? Regardless of any age difference.

He looked away and stared into the distance, getting lost in his head. I clear my throat before speaking again.

"What year is it?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation alive.

"'67." He answers proudly.

I ask, genuinely curious, "What kind of engine does it have?"

A slow smile spreads across his face as if the question doesn't get asked often. He nods for me to follow him, and I smile as my plan succeeds. He pops the hood from inside the car before walking towards the front of the Impala. As I pass the driver's side door, the man sitting inside gives me a tight-lipped smile. I give him one in return, then turn my attention back to the gorgeous man as he props the hood.

"Impressive. Let me guess—this baby pushes out 460 hps." I comment, staring at the redone engine.

"461. How did you...?" He trails off. I catch him staring at me in my peripheral vision. I turn to the attractive man and can't help but smile even wider at the amazement shining bright in his eyes. He thrusts his hand out and says, "I'm Dean."

I take his hand and squeeze, giving him a firm handshake. "I'm Mari."

"Ma-dee...?" He repeats in question.

I giggle at his uncertainty and nod at the correct pronunciation of my Spanish name. "Yes, sir."

"What's a girl like you know about engines?" He smirks, leaning against his now-closed hood.

"I know a thing or two." I shrug nonchalantly. I heard the gas pump jerk, indicating that my tank was full. "I should get that."

I turn to walk back before his voice stops me.

"Hey, uh—you wouldn't happen to know where the nearest motel is, do you?"

"Wow, Dean, I'm flattered, but I like to be 'wined and dined' before we sixty-nine." I causally joke.

His eyes widen with shock as the blush rises to his cheeks, his jaw dropping slightly. I found it arduous to keep my smirk hidden after his overt reaction. His head shakes violently, his hands rising in defense before speaking.

"What? No, I didn't mean—I don't want to—Not that you're not—" His green eyes quickly skim every inch of my body. "I'm not saying you don't look good 'cause wow—but I just—"

This man, who exudes confidence, getting so flustered over my words was unexpected. I couldn't help but stop his self-torture with a laugh.

"I'm just fucking with you."

Relief washes over his features before letting out a large breath. After a chuckle, he says, "You're good, really had me going there."

"Well, if you're this easy to rile up with words, I can only imagine how well you'd respond to actions." I smile at the vulgar things I had in mind.

To say I surprised even myself with my comments is an understatement. I have never been confident enough to speak to any guy like this. Let alone one this jaw-droppingly sexy, but he definitely brought that side out of me.

A mischievous smirk plays on his lips as he gets closer. "You've got a dirty little mouth there, sweetheart."

"You going to clean it out for me?" I say seductively before sinking my teeth into my bottom lip.

Dean's eyes widen again, but he tries covering it with a huge grin. He opens his mouth to reply but gets cut off by the man in his car attempting to mask the words "jail bait" with a cough. I can't help but laugh; he wasn't wrong. The man standing in front of me turns red once more.

"Why don't I give you those directions?" I offer, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

He nods, giving me a shy smile. He thanked me after I gave him the information.

"No problem." I walk to my car and grab the nozzle from my gas tank. I put it back into its machine while he does the same. "I hope to see you around."

He winks before I slip into my front seat. I smile at his small but powerful gesture and pray the last words I spoke to him become true.

And they did, just not in the way I would've imagined. What I didn't expect was to see a monster—a real monster—attack someone important to me. Two FBI agents tracked me down in my hometown for an interview. And just my luck, the agents happened to be the gentlemen I met earlier. Their faces were just as surprised to see me as I was them.

A knock sounded on the front door. I pause my movie before surreptitiously peeking out of the living room window that faces the street. My eyes widen as I see a familiar classic car parked outside my house. My heart rate spiked, knowing that the Impala could only belong to the man I met just the other day. Panicking, I push myself off the couch and run to the bathroom.

I look in the mirror and see a nightmare staring back. My eyes were red and puffy, and my hair was in shambles. I heard another knock, but this time louder. With no time to run a brush through my bird's nest of hair, I groan in frustration. I drag myself out of the bathroom before the rapid pounding begins against the front door.

"Coming!" I yell while combing my fingers through my thickly tangled brunette curls.

I stand just before the door and take a moment to breathe. After straightening the sweats I chose to lounge in, I curse myself for not being presentable at a time like this. I suck in a breath before reaching for the door handle, bracing myself for the judgment and embarrassment that was guaranteed to come my way. In one quick motion, I swing open the wooden door to see the two familiar, tall, handsome men standing before me.

Their eyes became wide as they recognized who I was. I self-consciously sink into my hoodie, shy from their attention.

"Mari..." says Dean, just as surprised to see me.

"What are you guys doing here?" I ask, confused.

"We're uh, we're FBI agents. Just came to ask Maricela a few questions." The gentleman with long hair answers. "Is she home?"

"That's me," My eyebrows knit together. "Wait a minute, you're FBI agents?" I ask, not believing them as I eye up their suits.

"Yes." Dean and I locked eyes, and I could tell from his facial expression that he was hiding something.

"Let me see your badges." The words spilled out of my mouth.

They exchanged a look as if they didn't know what to do. They fumbled over their words before I cut them off.

"Well," I cross my arms. "Let's see it."

"Look, I don't think we need to—" Dean starts.

"Then you're not coming in. Plain and simple." I sass, standing my ground to the suspicious strangers.

Sighing in defeat, they pull their badges from their inner suit pockets. I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose before taking their badges for a closer look. My eyes thoroughly examine their IDs, noticing an off detail, realizing why they were, or at least Dean was, hesitant about showing their badges. I hand them back before recrossing my arms.

"So... Jimmy, huh?" 'Dean' looks at me in confusion before the realization dawns upon his face. "I recalled you introducing yourself as 'Dean.'"

"Well, uh..." I see him struggle for an excuse. "I go by my middle name. Each time someone called for 'Jimmy,' my dad and I didn't know who they were referring to. So yeah, I—uh, I go by Dean."

I give him a 'you've got to be joking' look. He clears his throat and smiles, trying to play it cool.

"Right..." I stare at his face, hoping to magically remember where I knew him from—other than the day we met. Knowing my luck wasn't great, I brushed it off once again.

"May we come in?" Mr. Robert Plant asks.

With the faintest nod, I step aside to let them pass. Once they were in, I closed the door and led them to the living room. They settled on the couch and nervously smiled at me as I sat across from them.

"Are your parents home?" 'Dean' asks.

I shake my head. "No, they're not. But I'd rather get this done and over with, so please make this quick."

They nod before starting. "All right, tell us how you knew the victim. Then, walk us through what you saw last night."

I take a shaky breath, trying to steady my nerves. "Luke and I had been friends for a while. I had the biggest crush on him. I figured he only liked me as a friend, so when he asked me to dinner, how could I have said no? He wanted to drive down to Kenosha and try this new restaurant."

"So, it was a date?" 'Dean' questioned.

"I guess you could call it that. Everything was going great until I stepped away to use the restroom. When I came back... Luke was with another girl." I replay the awful memory. "She was all over him. I was furious! Why ask me out, then allow some random chick to finish our date? It just didn't make any sense. But I refused to stay and watch, so I left..."

My voice began to waver as the emotions I felt the night before came rushing back.

"I called my best friend to come pick me up. While I waited, I decided to go back and confront him, giving him a piece of my mind. That's when I found him..." I hesitate, fearing they wouldn't believe the truth of what I witnessed.

I didn't expect them to, especially since the local cops didn't. For two sole reasons: One. Who ever listens to the crazy person who says monsters are real? Two. I was a minor, and no one takes you seriously if you're under the age of 18—even then.

"Found him..?" 'Dean' asks, sitting at the edge of his seat. My eyes found his, and just for a moment, I felt safe in the comforting pools of green.

My lips part, contemplating what to say next. Hesitation got the best of me, so I settled on; "Dead."

They nod, taking in my statement. "You told the police you saw a monster kill Luke."

I give a dry laugh before nodding in agreement, my gaze wandering. "Yeah, I did."

"Is there anything more you can tell us about this so-called 'monster' you saw?" Robert questions.

"What's the point? You're not gonna believe me. No one else does." I shrug.

"Hey," 'Dean' made it a point for me to make eye contact with him before saying, "We just want to help. So, try us."

I bit the inside of my cheek while frantically searching his beautiful green irises for clarity. His brows furrowed, woven with hope yet silently pleading to trust him. So, with a deep breath, I confessed. "When I went back, he—uh, he was on the ground, and she was... eating him. She looked human, but her face—it changed."

"Changed? Changed how?" Robert eagerly inquired.

"I swear it warped into something snake-like."

The men exchanged glances before fixing their attention back on me. "How did she escape?"

"She heard other people coming near us and ran off. I tried running after her, but she turned a corner and was gone. I called the cops but not before seeing the huge gaping hole in Luke's chest." I numbly say as I stare off into thin air, as his lifeless and mutilated body flashes behind my eyes.

"All I know is whatever that thing is, ain't human. She's a monster, and I swear, she's gonna get what's coming to her." I seethe.

After persuading me to tell the truth, they tried convincing me what I witnessed, what that monster did to my friend, wasn't real.

"Look, Mari," 'Dean' started. "Forget what you think you saw, all right? Cause monsters aren't real. The sooner you realize that the sooner you can cope with your loss."

"My partner's right. It's easy to think that some—" Robert lifts his fingers to add air quotes. "—'monster' could be responsible for your boy friend's death, but the FBI can assure you, there's no such thing. In certain traumatic events, the witness can alter reality the more they try to remember what happened. It could just be that you have an overactive imagination. It happens all the time, especially in kids. I think that's what's going on here."

I glare at them in disbelief. How dare they come into my house and feed me lies—telling me I have an 'overactive imagination.' As natural as breathing, I begin expressing my anger.

"I don't care who you are—I know what I saw. This thing will continue to kill people until it's caught. So why don't you quit wasting your time selling me something I ain't buyin' and find the damn thing!" I say each and every word louder than the last, anger fueling the fire they only fanned higher.

Silence fell between us. It was evident that my outburst caught them off guard, but I couldn't care less. Time and energy were being wasted by trying to convince me otherwise. I take a deep breath and collect my thoughts before getting up from the couch to walk out of the living room.

"Now, if there's nothing else you need from me—" I say while opening the front door. The men take my hint and begin walking towards me. Robert delivers a stiff smile before walking out of the house, leaving me alone with 'Dean.'

"Thank you for your time." He mutters before exiting my home.

"Hey, Page," I called just after he walked down the porch steps. He pivots to meet my gaze. "If you don't find this thing, I will."

With a nod, he turns back around and heads for his car. As soon as they drove away, I threw myself into research. I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew these two from somewhere.

I soon found myself down a rabbit hole.

"Oh shit..." I murmur, finding what I was looking for but not what I expected. Then, it all dawned on me.

Sam and Dean Winchester.

Milwaukee, Wisconsin. That's where I knew them from. They came in January of 2007 and took hostages in a bank before escaping, dressed as SWAT agents. They were a huge story, especially since they were wanted for other heinous crimes. Those of which included—credit card fraud, breaking and entering, disturbing a crime scene, impersonation of law enforcement, assaulting an officer, breaking out of jail, mass murder, kidnapping, arson, grand theft auto, grave desecration, and lastly, desecration of corpses. I felt sick to my stomach, knowing I was alone with them. Yet, all I could think about was what they wanted and why they didn't hurt me if they had such a rap. My mind kept racing and racing until I made a plan.

After an hour, I had a theory on what kind of monster killed my friend. So, I decided to confront the mystery men and pray they really were here to help. After changing, I traveled down to the city where they stayed.

I pulled up to the motel and braved myself with a deep breath before exiting my car. I clutched the gun in my purse as I walked over to their room. With determination, I knocked on their door. My heart hammered against my rib cage, wondering if what I was doing was a mistake. Dean opened the door, and his eyes instantly widened. I brush past him and walk into the middle of the room while taking a quick scan, ensuring it was just us three before turning to face them. Without wasting a beat, I jump into business.

"I know who you are," I assert with as much confidence as my voice could muster. "Sam and Dean Winchester."

Their faces dropped at the mention of their real identities.

"Now," I begin. "I want the truth. Who are you."

"Well, if you know our names, you should already know who we are," says Sam.

"I read what the articles wrote about you, even what law enforcement officials have tried charging you with before you were 'killed.' Yet, here you are: alive." I take the loaded gun out of my purse and aim at the brothers. "So tell me, who are you."

The men raised their hands in surrender, no doubt startled to see me wield a deadly weapon. What'd they expect? That I'd walk into the lion's den unarmed? I might be foolish, but I'm not stupid.

"Woah, woah. Mari, put the gun away. It's not a toy." Dean said, taking a step closer.

"No shit, Sherlock." I steady my trembling hands. "Now, somebody better start talking, or I'll start using this thing."

"Okay! Okay!" Dean shouts after hearing the click of the safety release from the trigger. "We'll tell you. Just please, put it down."

I hesitate but lower the weapon at a 45-degree angle, not ready to put it away completely. "You're right. I'm Dean Winchester, this is my brother, Sam. But we're not what everyone says we are. We're... we're hunters."

My brows narrow in confusion. "Hunters?"

"We hunt monsters. We try to save as many people as we can. It's our family business."

I take a deep breath before saying, "I thought you said monsters weren't real."

The brothers seemed to relax when I put the safety back on before shoving the gun back into my purse.

"We had to. It was for your own good. You're too young to learn about the things that go bump in the night." Dean says before sitting at the table near the window, across from Sam.

"I appreciate it, but I can make that decision on my own."

"If you really want to know, it was a Lamia that killed Luke," Sam says, trying to ease the tension between his brother and me.

I nod. "Yeah, I know."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. "You know?"

"Yeah," I pull out the folded paper I printed earlier. He gets up from his chair, walking closer so I can hand it to him. "I did some research and came across it. Figured it could be a possibility."

"So why did you come here?" Dean asked.

I shifted my eyes to meet his. "Because if those allegations were true, you would've killed me. And you didn't... You came to me, looking for clues to—to help. Bad guys don't do that."

I watch as his eyes soften. He gives me the tiniest smile before nodding.

"Now, how do we kill this thing?" I ask.

"No, no, no." Dean gets up from his chair and walks over.

"What? I'm going to help you kill it." I declare.

"I don't think so, sweetheart." He quickly towers over me. "Leave it to the adults."

"You don't scare me, Dean Winchester," I say confidently.

The truth is, I was—just a little. His lips parted as if he was going to say something back but he didn't.

"I think it's best if we take care of this," Sam interjects.

I fought with them long and hard until I finally wore them down. They agreed I could come with them as long as I stayed out of the way.

We ascended the steps of the church and pushed the heavy doors open. The men led the way before stopping in front of the altar. I gasped once I saw the priest's dead body lying on the floor with his throat cut open.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed. "She got to him first."

"What do we do?" I ask, frightened.

"Call Bobby," said Sam before the Lamia made her way from the back room.

Dean whipped out his phone and dialed whomever Sam referred to.

"What's another way to kill a Lamia?" he eagerly asks. He looks to the priest lying at his feet before saying, "It didn't pan out. What's Plan B?"

While Dean took instructions, the Lamia charged toward us. She dodged Sam's punch before grabbing his clothes and flinging him across the room. He hit the pillar before shouting for his brother. Ignoring me, she runs over with supernatural speed and snatches him away from the column that kept him upright. Dean sprints to the back room just before the Lamia throws the tall man to the floor like he was nothing.

She then straddles him, wrapping one hand around his neck before hissing. Her fangs and forked tongue were on display, just like they were the first time I saw her. Fear freezes me in place, trapping me in the memory of Luke's murder. She uses her unoccupied hand to press her fingertips against Sam's chest as if she were going to plunge it into his body. He tries prying her hands away with no luck. The monster begins to dig her quickly, growing claws into the man, forcing out a pained cry. The sound of his torture pierces through my comatose state, snapping me out of it.

Without second-guessing, I feel my body rush towards the monster, tackling her off the youngest Winchester. I quickly crawl over and grab the knife near Sam. I stand, holding the large blade in front of me. She pants heavily as a slow smile spreads across her face. The same one that burned in my memory that fateful day.

That was enough for me to lunge the large knife at her. She quickly dodged and tried attacking back, only for me to do the same. I finally land a strike on her arm, slicing her skin open. Yet, just as fast as it appeared, I watched her heal. The sudden realization that she couldn't be weakened easily had hit me like a truck. She took the opportunity to jump me, knocking the knife out of my hand. We wrestled on the floor before her strength dominated.

"I remember you." Her voice spoke. "You're the girlfriend."

"Shut up." I hiss while trying and failing to push her off of me. Her taunting laughs echo off the church's walls.

"I've got to say, your boy toy tasted amazing." She adds to the torment. A fresh set of tears fills my eyes. I turn my head and see the knife not too far away. I look at her again while I reach for the knife. "Don't worry, sweetie. He didn't suffer... that much."

My fingertips lightly grazed the edge of the handle. With one last stretch, I grasped onto it, and with one swift motion, I jammed the blade into the monster's throat.

"I said—" Her eyes widen in shock before I yank the knife out. "Shut up!"

She stumbled off, allowing me to get away. I push myself off the ground and run towards Sam, still lying on the floor.

"C'mon." I pull him up with all my strength before shifting some of his weight onto me.

We stumble to the back room where Dean was with the Lamia on our asses. Once we were in the kitchen, Dean tossed what seemed to be herbs out of the bowl he held at the evil creature. She flinched as if it had stung while Dean pulled the stove away from the wall. The monster fixed her eyes on the older Winchester, ready to pounce. I threw myself in her path before she—very easily— flung me out of the way. I groaned in pain as I tried to sit up. Sam followed my actions, only for him too to be cast aside.

"Fire in the hole!" Dean shouted before lighting the gas that seeped out of its line.

We watch as the Lamia burns to a crisp while listening to her violent shrieks. Once she was dead, Dean cut the gas, putting out the fire. My chest rises and falls, trying to calm down yet attempting to register everything that just happened. Dean walks in front of me and offers me a hand. I hesitantly accept before he pulls me off the floor.

"Are you all right?" he asks.

I nod with reassurance before Sam walks over to us. "I'm fine."

"It's over now." Dean rubs my back. "She can't hurt anybody else."

After the hunt, they took me out to dinner. It was less eating, at least for me, and more them giving me the talk about all that is dangerously real in the world. It goes without saying I became a hunter that day. Once I turned 18, I made it a full-time job. As much as Dean hated the fact that I fell into hunting and as much as he tried to stop me, I would help them on cases if we were near one another. After hunts, we always found time to hang out. They became my closest and most trusted friends, family even. We were always there for each other, especially at our lowest. Sam was the big brother I never had, while Dean was the crush I never seemed to get over.

Since the day I met him, my feelings for the older Winchester have only grown stronger. Each moment spent with him was bittersweet, knowing I was so close yet so far away from where I craved to be. But anything was better than nothing at all. Even with Sam's year-long encouragement, I refused to tell his brother how I felt in fear of rejection. The timing was another reason I hadn't confessed my undying love as each Big Bad became worse than the last. Things got a little more complicated when every angel fell from Heaven only to receive worse news when I called Dean to question 'The Global Meteor Shower.'

"Mari," Dean's hoarse voice spoke. "It's Sam... He's in the hospital."

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[yurinaa-world]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝒷𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

Characters: Blade x Gender-Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Back then, you thought you and your dear sweetheart would always be together until the end, but the shock you felt when you discovered he had become a traitor and betrayed your trust has made you despise him ever since. Now you meet again, having been captured and having the opportunity to chat again, but this time you have some unpleasant words to say.

Warnings: Angst? reader and Blade used to be lovers before he became a traitor, not proofread, spelling mistakes, and is not sure of anything else.

Notes: I'm conflicted to make part 2 of this

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

"You wanted to see me, general," you say while walking into his office to find him at his desk with his chin propped on his hand and a lazy smile on his face. "General? "There's no need to call us by that title after all; we've known each other for such a long time, haven’t we?" Jing Yuan grinned at you and said, "Now don’t stand there; come here and sit down." It was a bit odd that the general wanted to see you since it had been so long since you both actually talked to each other.

Doing as he said and sitting down in front of him, face to face, you wonder what it is that he needs from you: "Quite the nice weather we're having, aren’t we, (name)?" "Yes, we are, but what did you need me for, Jing Yuan?" You say blankly, getting to the point quickly, "Hasty are we? But to get to the point, it seems that your ex-lover is back, and now he goes by the name Blade," he answered.

Those words made you freeze as you clutched your fist; that bastard was someone you wished he had dropped dead. "Why are you telling me this?" you ask, keeping your anger on the down low. "You're his ex-lover, aren’t you? After all, you must have something to say to him," the general hummed before adding, "don’t you want to meet once more after I can tell you want to say something badly?" You stayed silent at his words, staring deep into his eyes, which were staring right at yours, almost daring you to speak up.

You sigh before nodding. "Do me a favour, (name), don't kill him," he then adds before letting out a loud laugh. Your face remained expressionless and cold as you nodded. "I'll try my best," you finally said, "and I'll have the guards escort you." With that, you got up and headed towards the exit to his office. Before leaving, though, you looked over your shoulder and gave Jing Yuan a cold look.

"What a cold expression; nothing like how you used to be."

Walking through the corridors of the doors holding those who had committed crimes against you while a guard escorted you to him, you just didn't want to say his name. He betrayed your trust, leaving you just to be some traitor in their little group called Stellaron Hunters, but after so long not seeing his face, honesty makes you want to beat him to death, but it's better not to.

Stopping in front of the door, "Would you like us to come in with you?" One of the male guards asked, "No, this is personal, and I'd rather not have people watching me." The man bowed his head slightly before going off to do whatever he was assigned to do, while you turned around and entered the room.

In the small hallway leading to a single jail cell with a man with long navy hair and crimson eyes with a chain attached to his hands, while sitting on a bench, walking closer to the bars, he just stares at you and says, "It seems you go by Blade nowadays; honestly, you should pick a better name." You glared at him, trying to mask your anger with an emotionless expression. "And if I may ask, who are you exactly?" he asked, his eyes sharpening on your figure. "Your ex-lover? Who else?" you reply flatly.

He smirks at your words. You get closer to the bars, your hand going out to wrap your fingers around them. "You're lucky you're behind bars right now, or I would smash your skull open on these very bars, you sick son of a bitc-" You stop in the middle of your sentence. Looking at him is aggravating; a curse would be enough to express how much you despise him.

He smirks at your words, getting up from the bench and walking closer to you if it weren't for the bars separating you and keeping you on the opposite sides of the room. "You're getting so worked up over me." He mocks, taking another step toward you, only to end up stopping when the chains on his legs clink together. You let go of the bars and took a few steps backward, away from him.

"You act like you've changed, but you haven't at all," he continues. "Is that what you really think, coming from you of all people?" You scoff loudly, "Because unlike you, I didn't throw everything away for some group travelling going around and having people get hurt. What are you proud of, "Blade"?" You spat his name out like venom on your tongue.

"Why did I even bother to waste time talking to a lost cause?" you mutter before turning around and exiting his prison cell, slamming the door behind you, and leaving without sparing him a glance.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[kelcemenow]

Your Voice - Chapter 3.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1766

Warnings Pure fluff with some strong language.

This Anon request piqued my interest as I used to read a lot of Soulmate AU fanfiction ‘back in the day’ and I really liked this idea! AU’s give me so much creative freedom…and a chance to go back to college Travis!! Now, I wasn’t going to make this a series but as I was writing, I realised it is going to have to be as I had a great idea for it! I hope you enjoy! “Can I request a Travis k x soulmate au? pls 😩”

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

"Holy shit."

You closed your eyes and shook your head, placing your fingers on your temples. You were struggling to concentrate on studying as it was without your Soulmate chiming in. You opened your eyes and desperately tried to focus on the words in front of you.

Suddenly, you felt a kick from underneath the table. Looking up, your eyes landed on Chloe, who was sat across from you at the table, peering at you from over the top of her book.

"What's up?" She mouthed.

You shook your head and looked back to your textbook.

Another kick. This time, Chloe didn't say anything but instead, she jerked her head to the side towards the direction of the exit. You rolled your eyes and gathered your things, hastily placing them in your satchel. You made your excuses and left the library, stopping just outside of the door.

Chloe wasn't far behind you and as she caught up with you, she placed a hand on your arm, "You seem distracted. Let's get out of here."

"Honestly, I'm fine." You smiled meekly.

"Babe, I've just watched you stare at the same page for 45 minutes. I can't imagine Pastoral Literature is that exciting." She grasped at your hand, "Come on, it's a nice day. Let's go and sit in the quad."

You smiled and followed her lead, taking the short walk out to the grassed area in-between the campus buildings. There were a handful of other people around but you found a sunny yet secluded spot; a blanket of soft grass speckled with small daisies. As soon as you settled yourself with your elbows propping you up, Chloe shuffled closer.

"So, what's up with you?"

You sighed as your head titled backwards, your eyes aimed to the bright sky, "Honestly, I'm fine. It's just...I can't stop thinking about my Soulmate. I'd decided this morning that I was going to forget about him and just...give up."

Chloe frowned at you as she listened.

"But...every time I hear his voice, I just keep focusing on it. Just then, in the library, it sounded so clear...almost like he was stood behind me." Your forehead creased.

"And you have no idea who it could be?"

Your mouth twisted, "I almost thought I did. But it's stupid. It can't be him."

Chloe straightened up and her hands flew to her face, "Oh my God, tell me!"

"You know Travis?"

"Kelce?!" Her eyes widened and she left her mouth open, "Yes, he's hot, Y/N. If it's him, I'm going to be insanely jealous."

You laughed slightly, "Well, he walked me home last night, and I saw him this morning and he asked me if I wanted to sit with him for a coffee. I don't know, it's weird."

Chloe tilted her head, "Have you spoken to him much before now?"

"A little bit, but not really. We don't share a lot of classes and it's not like we hang out with the same people. But when I think about it, he's always nice to me, I suppose."

"That explains why his voice is muffled!" Chloe hissed.

You lowered your eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

"Because he wears a helmet...and probably a mouthguard! That's why you could hardly hear him most times!"

You gasped a breath, "Oh my God, that makes sense. Chloe, you're a genius!"

Chloe flicked her hair, "Can I record you saying that so I can play it for my Biology professor?"

You breathed a laugh before looking down, "It sounds corny as shit, but my mind is telling me to stop looking, to stop trying to figure out who he is or even if it is Travis. That my time is better spent studying or whatever...but then as soon as I make that decision, my heart tells me to just go for it. To find Travis and just fucking kiss him."

Chloe's eyes were sparkling, blinking rapidly, "Oh, Y/N! Do it!"

"You're crazy. I can't. Besides he's got a girlfriend."

Chloe's shoulders slumped down as her fingers ran through the grass, "Well, this sucks."

______________________________________________________________

Your feet hit the pavement loudly as your pace sped into a jog. You quickly glanced at your watch before rolling your eyes, seeing that you were already 15 minutes late for your rehearsal. You could feel your face beginning to flush as your blood pumped quicker through your body, reminding you to focus on cardio a little more. Your eyes were staring at the grey concrete beneath you, rapidly repeating your dialogue to make sure you could remember it all when you suddenly collided with someone in front of you.

"Woah!"

You gasped as you looked up to see Javen, holding his hands up with raised eyebrows.

"Shit, I'm so sorry. I'm running late and I just...I'm sorry."

Javen shook his head, "Hey, it's fine. Do what you gotta do."

You nodded and began to pass him but he called after you.

"Y/N, can I ask something?"

You turned your head over your shoulder, aware that this exchange was making you even more late than you already were.

"Sure." You said with a little more exasperation than you intended.

"What's with you and Travis?"

Your eyebrows narrowed with confusion, "Me and...Travis? Nothing."

Javen pressed his lips together, "I don't know man. He's been talking about you lately, asking questions and stuff."

Your breathing began to slow down and you chewed on your bottom lip, "I don't know why he would?"

"And then after we hung out, he broke up with Tiffany."

Your heart jumped for a second and you could feel a heat rise in your chest, "Really?"

Javen shrugged his shoulders, "Said he was sure she wasn't his Soulmate and that he was certain who was."

"Oh?"

"I just figured I'd see if there was anything going on with you two?"

You shook your head and your mouth dropped open as you tried to find the right words, "Uh...no. Nothing has been going on."

Javen shrugged again, letting his hands fall down to his sides, "Alright, fair play."

You smiled and continued on your journey, your mind whirring with even more uncertainty than before. As you walked, you felt the beginnings of light rainfall on your cheeks. You pulled your hood over your head and tucked your hair into your sweater, holding your satchel closer to you and shoving your free hand into your pocket. Travis' face kept flashing into your mind. His piercing eyes, his soft looking lips, his defined jawline. You took a deep breath and made your way into the rehearsal room, allowing all thoughts of Travis vanish from your head.

______________________________________________________________

You stared down at the script in your hands as you waited at the side of the stage. The only noises you could hear was the scene that was playing out in front of you. You had loved performing in plays and musicals since high school and joining the college society seemed like a good way to continue your hobby alongside your studies.

"Hey."

You heard a whisper behind you so you looked over your shoulder.

"I was thinking..."

Through the dimly lit wings you could just make out the chiselled features of the one person you were trying to forget about.

"Travis?! What the hell are you doing here? You hissed.

He quickly glanced around before he reached out and his hands ghosted over yours.

"I...I'm not sure." He breathed a laugh and smiled widely, "Well, that's not really true. I just wanted to see you."

Your eyes narrowed, "What...what is this about?"

"Go out with me?"

Your chest burned and your lips parted slowly, your breathing speeding up as you noticed that the action on stage has stopped. You whipped your head around to see everyone on stage looking at you.

"Y/N? This is your entrance." Mrs Rodriguez shouted from the front of the stage.

Your hands quickly fumbled with your script as you leaned slightly closer to Travis, "Meet me outside at 7."

He smiled and watched as you strode onto the stage, switching into your character immediately.

______________________________________________________________

You could hear that it was still raining as you approached the exit of the theatre. You prepared yourself by pulling your sweater hood over your head and pushed the door open to see Travis leaning against the stone steps, his back to you. The sound of the door made him spin around and he met your stare with creased eyes.

"Hey."

"Why did you wait out here in the rain?" You said with a small laugh.

He squinted his eyes, "Because...you told me to?"

You walked towards him, pulling him underneath a nearby tree before you wiped away some of the rain drops that were dotted on his forehead.

There was a silence before Travis suddenly told hold of your hands, "Listen, I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing. But that's been true for the past couple of days." His eyes were frantically moving around, almost avoiding your gaze, "I've been doing a lot of thinking and earlier today, everything just suddenly made sense."

You closed the gap between you slightly and placed a gentle hand on your chest, "Travis, I think I know what you're going to say."

He looked down at your hand, "You do?"

You moistened your lips and looked up into his pale eyes, "Yeah. I think so...I hope so. And if I'm wrong, this is going to be really embarrassing-"

Without warning, Travis crashed his lips into yours. You were shocked at first, your eyes widening, but when his hands pulled you close to him so that your chests were pressed into each other, you melted into his hold. Your mouths moved across each other with ease and you parted your lips further to allow his tongue to make contact with yours.

The world around you seemed to fade away and the only thing you could feel was the occasional rain drop landing on your skin. You could hear all of your Soulmate's words echoing in your mind, everything you had ever heard him say repeating itself, only louder and much clearer this time. You could feel him smile into this kiss, and indication that he was experiencing the same thing.

You pulled away from the kiss, allowing your breathing to slow down as you held intense eye contact with Travis. His mouth moved into a smile and you could feel his strong hands gripping at your waist.

After a moment, Travis released his hold on you and began walking across the quad, "Come on, let's go and get that coffee."

______________________________________________________________

I fell into a little bit of writer's block with this last one. I've just put it down to being so busy lately and my mind being occupied elsewhere. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and this little mini series! I'll be carrying on with my requests list now so if you want to be added to my Taglist, just let me know!

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[syn4k]

"Cleo," said Joe, knocking on her door. (It was 4 in the morning.)

"Fuck off," called Cleo from her bed indoors, which was her usual friendly greeting whenever she didn't want to answer the door.

"I have a gift," said Joe, who was well used to this so-called greeting, having experienced it several times before. "Open up."

"It can wait," she yelled, voice cracking and hoarse. God. Why couldn't Joe just come at some better time, like in three hours when the sun was actually up?

"It can't," he said. "I'm going to open up a picket line outside your fence and play loud music until you open up."

Cleo sighed and hopped out of bed, hobbling to the door. (Her leg had come dangerously loose again. She's have to stitch that up later. Her hand was about to fall off of her wrist, too, which was another thing- hot glue worked for that, she supposed.)

"What," she demanded, opening the door to give her friend a whole tired angry tirade about correct calling times and stopped short.

"I said it couldn't wait," said Joe with a grin, holding up a cane. "We made this for you."

"We?"

"Hello," said Jevin from his spot behind Joe, waving. "X and Hypno are also here. Wels threatened to stab us all if we came in to visit."

"And you listened to him, and not me," said Cleo, deadpan. "Listen, this is a nice gift, but-"

"This is Hermits Helping Hermits," said Joe. "And we were all talking and we decided that maybe you could use a bit of help getting along sometimes, like everyone does!"

"I don't," said Cleo icily. She could feel her hackles raising already. This morning just kept getting worse, and the sun hadn't even rose yet. How dare they assume that she couldn't manage just as well as the rest of them? She made it a point of pride to keep up with the rest of the Hermits without any outside help. A cane, of all things? What did they think she was, an old lady?

"Cleo, listen," said Xisuma, expression unreadable behind that frosted visor of his. "I know exactly what you're thinking, but we're not giving this to you because we think of you as less. This is a gift, to help you get along better."

"Yeah," added Hypno. "You know Etho's knee took a major update pretty badly a while back, and now he's pretty much allergic to all of them and out of commission."

"Well, of course, but that's a big thing," says Cleo. "He's bedridden for days at a time. If anybody needs this cane, it's Etho. Not me."

"And you're not, when your leg falls off in the middle of a walk and you don't have your sewing kit on hand?" asked Joe. "When you call me at two in the morning because your hand fell off and you need to superglue it back on to your wrist?"

"I'm about to freeze into jelly," said Jevin. "Can we please come in?"

Cleo was speechless, but she nodded roughly and stepped backwards to let everyone in. Joe flicked on the lights in the living room, toting the cane.

"And for the record, none of us are happy about waking up at this hour either," said Xisuma, not unkindly. "Joe was up all night carving this. He wanted to get it delivered as soon as possible."

"You're all idiots," announced Cleo, her words back. "The lot of you."

"Good to hear your opinion of us hasn't changed," said Joe cheerfully from the kitchen. "I'd be worried if your first reaction to all of this wasn't to declare that you'd had intercourse with all of our parents."

"Well, that too," said Cleo, holding her bad leg up by one hand and going to sit next to Jevin on the couch, which was leather for this exact reason. It was expensive, but so much better than having to wipe blood and slime off of suede, God forbid.

"So, how long did you spend on this?" she asked, picking up the cane propped up against the couch, grudgingly impressed. For something supposedly hand-carved, it was smooth and supple, steady enough to hit someone on the head with and handle the weight of someone leaning on it.

"Can I test it?" she asked.

"Go ahead," said Joe from the kitchen, not turning around. Cleo nodded once and, quick as a whip, whacked the top of Xisuma's helmet with the cane as hard as she could. The cane did not so much as crack, although there was a dent in it as well as the helmet.

"Hey," said Xisuma. "What was that for?"

"Joe said I could test it," said Cleo with an innocent-ish grin.

"I did," said Joe. He walked into the living room, munching on a granola bar. "Now, let's see here. The cane is supposed to rest at your wrist when you're standing up-" he helped her stand up, checked the height, nodded, "-so that you can use it for support and balance without messing up your shoulder. When you're walking, lead with your bad leg. This means-" he took the cane from her right hand and put it into her left, the same side as her dangerously wobbling leg "-you use the cane instead of that leg to propel yourself forwards. Try it."

"How do you know this much about this?" asked Cleo, trying it out. It was awkward, and the cane wobbled dangerously under her shaky wrist, but indeed, she could get around much better than if she had normally.

Joe shrugged. "I did a lot of research. Now, to honor your wishes, I'll be back this time tomorrow to teach you how to use this better. Come on, everyone." He went towards the door, the rest of the HHH crew following.

"Wait," she yelled after them. "What do you mean, this time tomorrow? Joe Hills, if you so much as set a single beard hair inside of this house tomorrow, I swear to God-"

The door clicked shut. Cleo sighed, went to turn the lights off, and hobbled back to bed, putting the cane in the floor and drew the covers back over themself with a sigh.

"Idiots," she muttered. "Absolute fucking idiots. All of them." But she couldn't stop themself from smiling, just a bit.

[transizzyhands]

hey look it's the first 2,000 words or so of this post-El Camino fic ive been working on

After 26 years in the desert, the first big adjustment was coping with the cold. Sure, it got cold in New Mexico, but it was nothing compared to Alaska's bitter freezes. Back when Alaska was just an idea in his head, he thought he could handle it. Oversized hoodies and beanies pulled low over his ears had been his wardrobe since he was a teenager, after all—they should have served him well up north.

Not so much. Less than a week after he arrived, after a night of shivering himself awake next to the wood stove, he got into the truck and headed into town.

It was a small town, vastly different from Albuquerque's busy streets and sprawling neighborhoods. Most of the vehicles around here were old trucks and Jeeps, bodies half-rusted away, with the occasional Subaru or SUV parked along the street. Small cars didn't fare well in the snow. Before the next big snowfall, he'd have to get chains. First things first, though: more layers.

A storefront called SNOWBUSTER'S EMPORIUM caught his eye. In the windows, a headless mannequin modeled a fur-lined parka and matching trousers, with a scarf around its neck and sturdy boots. He cut the engine halfway down the street and headed inside.

The bell over the door rang out, punctuating the classic rock playing softly over hidden speakers. “Hey, Joe!” came a woman's voice, but he couldn't see anyone.

“Uh. Not Joe. Sorry,” he said.

A head poked up from behind a rack of sweaters. “Oh! Nope, definitely not.” The woman, dark-haired and dark-eyed, shot him a mischievous grin. “Sorry about that.” She stepped out from behind the rack and approached him. “I'm Ness. New in Haines?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, let me know if I can help you find anything, okay?” She looked friendly enough, in her early forties with her dark hair in twin braids and a light-green flannel shirt buttoned high. “Passing through or staying?”

“Haven't decided,” he said. That, at least, wasn't a lie.

“This is a nice town. We always welcome a friendly face. How long have you been here?”

“Few days.”

“How do you like it so far?” As Ness spoke, she moved around the store, straightening displays or re-folding scarves.

“Not bad. A little cold at night.”

She hummed in agreement. “Staying warm at night is tricky. I always recommend getting a dog for that. But if you're allergic to dogs or you're not interested in getting one, there's always long johns! Back here.”

After a brief hesitation, he followed her to the back of the store and she gestured to a rickety shelf stacked with folded long johns. “Take a look back here, and if you don't find something you like, we can always special order something for you. It'll take a couple weeks to get in, but it's worth it. Welcome to town.” She stuck out her hand.

He shook it. “Thanks. Lucas,” he added.

Her smile widened. “Nice to meet you, Lucas. If you need me, I'll be up at the register. Just holler.” She went back to the front, leaving him to stare at the woolen clothing in silence.

But his attention just shifted right back to the shelves. They were splintering, half-eaten away, and looked like they were a rough sneeze away from falling apart. Flimsy plywood held together with wood glue and prayers. Before he could stop himself, he called over, “Where'd you get these shelves?”

Ness propped herself up on her elbows, leaning against the front case. “Why?”

“Hope you didn't pay too much for 'em, or I'd say you got ripped off.”

An eyebrow went up along with a small smile. “And how much would be too much?”

He scanned the rest of the store, eyeing the shelves in the walls. “Fifty bucks.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.” A horrible thought struck him. “You didn't make 'em yourself, did you?”

“No, I didn't make them.”

“Oh. Okay.” His heart rate started to return to normal.

“My brother did,” Ness finished as the bell above the door chimed out again.

“Your brother did what?” asked the man who'd pushed open the door. He wasn't particularly tall, maybe three inches taller than him, but his wide build, grown-out beard, and intense stare all immediately indicated that he was not someone to be messed with.

“Apparently, my brother is a piss-poor carpenter.”

“No, wait—that's not what I said,” he protested, silently kicking himself. He'd been in town less than a week, in this store less than five minutes, and he was already making an ass of himself. How the fuck was he supposed to keep himself out of trouble when he couldn't last a day with regular people?

“Lucas, this is Joe, my brother. We own the store.”

“I'm... sorry,” he mumbled, starting to skirt around the edge of the store toward the other door. His first, panicked reaction was to go for the gun in his waistband—the gun he didn't have on him. “I have this bad habit, I talk too much—look, I'll just leave and I won't bother you again.”

“That one doesn't open,” Joe said, his beard twitching.

“Ah.” He couldn't get a read on Joe's expression, but he didn't want to look too closely at him, either. “Are you gonna let me go?”

The siblings exchanged a look and then Joe stepped away from the door.

He took the opening presented and bolted before they could change their minds.

The snow crunched under his stiff boots, heavier on his feet than he was used to. Discomfort came from unexpected angles, from the cold against his scalp and the tug of still-healing scars when he talked, to tight new boots that hadn't broken in yet and an ache that went bone-deep when he bent his left knee. He focused on that to keep from panicking, focused on the key digging into his palm as he finally drew level with the truck.

The engine hadn't cooled much, so the air that blasted him was still warm. He fumbled through his unfamiliar pockets until he found his cigarettes and lighter. Maybe one day he'd quit, but right now, he didn't care. There was no guarantee he'd even make it to 30 anyway.

He needed a drink to calm himself down, but the idea of drinking alone after spending the better part of a year alone was enough to drive him crazy on its own. So going to a bar was the best option.

Fortunately, he didn't have to drive far. Barely a block away, he pulled into a practically-empty parking lot and went inside. It wasn't the sleaziest dive he'd been to, but it was up there. The dim lighting inside obscured anything farther than ten feet away. In some dark corner, only the quiet click of pool balls cracking together indicated a game of billiards. Despite the NO SMOKING sign behind the bar, an old-timer sat at a far table with a fat cigar burning. He went up to the bar, vacant aside from one bleary-eyed patron, and flagged down the bartender. “Jack and Coke.”

“ID.”

He slid his license across the bar top. The bartender's eyes scanned the name, the photo, the birthdate. “Sure thing, Mr. Driscoll. Five bucks.” She slid it back to him.

“Isn't it ten?” he asked, pointing to the prices listed above the bar.

“Happy Hour started at four. Jeez,” the bartender added. “Never heard a guy complain about a cheap drink before.” She pulled out a glass and started pouring, then nodded at someone over his head.

Before he could turn around to look, another body was in his space, sliding onto the stool next to his. “Just put it on my tab, Ruthie.”

“Sure thing. Anything for you? Get you your usual?”

“Nah, I'll just be a minute.” Leather creaked as weight shifted. “Never did get a chance to properly make your acquaintance. Joseph Parker. Everyone calls me Joe. Nella said you're Lucas?”

He swallowed and forced himself to look at Joe. “Yeah. Luke is good too.” It brought Luke Skywalker to mind. Badger and Skinny Pete were Trekkies if anything, but he'd always preferred Star Wars.

“Luke.” It looked like Joe was grinning, but it was hard to tell for sure.

“Yeah. Luke. My last name's Driscoll, though. Not anything cool, like Skywalker.”

Joe laughed, a big and genuine laugh, and Luke took a swig of his Jack and Coke to hide his sigh of relief.

“So, like... what are you doing here? You didn't follow me here just to buy me a drink, did you?”

Joe nodded slowly and lightly tapped his pinkie and ring fingers on the slick wood of the bar top. “You're right. I just wanted to—look, are you okay? When you left the store, you looked like you were about to pass out.”

“Huh?”

“What you said? 'You gonna let me go?' You were shaking like a Chihuahua.”

“But your sister said—”

Joe waved dismissively. “Ness was messing with me, that's all. That's what she does. I know those shelves're garbage. They've been like that for ten years. We fight about them all the time.”

“So why don't you just replace them?”

“You'll have to ask her that. Sometimes it feels like the only way they'll get fixed is if someone does it overnight.” He propped himself by his elbow. “Bah, it's not that important. Listen, there's no hard feelings, Luke. You gave a fair and moreover honest assessment of my work. It don't bother me any. Besides, if you keep talking to Ness about it, you might be able to help me convince her to replace them.” Joe got to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on back sometime and we'll take care of you.”

He shook Joe's hand. “Yeah, for sure. I'll be back.”

“Cool. See you around, Luke.” He stepped away, his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer in Luke's, and Luke swore his heart missed a beat but by the time he processed it, Joe was out the door.

He swirled his drink for a moment and then took another swig, grimacing slightly at the burning tang of whiskey.

“Well, since Joe's paying, want another?” Ruthie asked.

“He's really not gonna kick my ass?”

“Who, Joe? He's a big cuddly kitty-cat. Besides, I wouldn't offer if it was gonna be a problem. So how 'bout it?”

He stared into the glass for a few seconds and then finished it off. “Yeah, sure.”

“Great.” She mixed up another and swapped out the glasses. “Here. So, I'm gathering that you're new around Haines. Makes sense, I've never seen you before. You hanging around?”

“Haven't decided. I haven't unpacked yet, if that's what you mean.”

“Well, why not?”

“I don't know.”

“Think you could stay for, say, a month?”

That wasn't what he expected. “For what?”

“Well, if I'm being honest, it's a little boring. Everyone knows everyone. Kind of a relief to get some fresh blood in here.”

Something about that comment put him on-edge. “You're not... uh, vampires, are you?”

Ruthie laughed so hard she cried. Neither of the other two bar patrons even looked over at them.

“I'm guessing that means no.”

Her giggles slowly subsiding, she wiped her eyes with the back of her wrists. “No, no vampires in this town that I know of.”

“Werewolves?”

Ruthie looked like she was going to lose it again. “Luke, I need your help to get Joe a date. This isn't a monster movie. Not to imply the two are mutually exclusive or anything.”

“Why do you need my help?”

“Because you're exciting, you're bright, shiny, and new, and you're probably looking for new friends of your own anyway, right? So it's a win-win.”

“Sure. So what's your angle in this?”

“What makes you think I have one?”

“Just seems a little weird, you know? Asking a stranger for help setting up your friend.”

“What? Come on, I bet you're a great wingman. But listen, hey. He's a good guy. He just needs to shake it up a bit. Stranger from out of town sounds like the perfect way to do that. But, hey, if you're not interested, no problem.”

There was only one right answer to this, and the wrong answer felt dangerous. But there was a tug in his chest, something telling him to stay. So he compromised. “I'll think about it, okay?”

Ruthie nodded appreciatively. “That's more than I can rightly ask a stranger.”

[icanbeyourgenie]

“ But I had a nightmare... ” - a sad Lyra to Aeron

❝Still. You shouldn't be here, Lyra.❞

His little sister looked at him with her big sad eyes and he knew he would give up. He always did give up when she came in his bed in the middle of the night because she felt safer sleeping in his arms. But he still had to at least pretend to be stern about it. Lyra was way too soft to live in this realm. If someone found about her need of reassurance she would be punished and rejected. He did remember his own fear of spiders when he was little, and how his mother beat that fear out of him by locking him in room full of spiders for weeks. It did help him manage his fear, but he knew that Lyra would not handle this kind of exposure.

As a good fae, he shouldn't care. But Lyra seemed to escape his rules. So when her eyes started to water, he sighed and opened his arms. She jumped in and they laid down, looking at the celling. ❝Tomorrow I'm putting a double lock on my door.❞ He said for good measure. It was probably the 10th time he used this threat now.

❝What am I supposed to do when I have nightmares?❞

❝Go back to sleep.❞

❝That's easy for you to say. You can control dreams so you never have nightmares!❞ Lyra pouted and Aeron chuckled.

❝Other people's dream only. But anyway, what was your nightmare even about?❞

The little fae waited a bit before answering. ❝...About getting casted away.❞

Aeron stayed silent. It was a rather realistic nightmare, it could happen. It will probably happen. Aeron saw people way thougher than Lyra get cast away by his mother and uncle. He usually barely interracted with his potential siblings or cousins, not until they were a permanent member of the family. But Lyra was really persistent.

❝You have years before it happens.❞ He finally said.

❝Years won't change anything. I'm too weak.❞

❝Xanthe too. He's still there, isn't he?❞

❝Xanthe can create weapons that would decimate cities.❞

❝Maybe you could too.❞

❝I don't want to do that. I don't want to hurt people.❞

Aeron sighed. ❝Then yes. You'll be cast away.❞

He ignored his uneasy feeling. It was probably just something he ate. Gentle and soft faes were a myth, because in the real fairy world, they didn't last long. A weak royal household would be an abomination. Right?

❝Not if you're king...❞ Lyra spoke soflty, but Aeron groaned as he put a pillow on his head.

❝Not that again. We already talked about it, go to sleep before I knock you out.❞ But Lyra was already propped on her elbows, looking at him with a spark in her eyes.

❝You could, though!❞ She was maybe weak but she sure could bother someone to death. Perhaps she should bring that up to Morgana. ❝It doesn't have to be the elder. Syrus was the oldest and yet mother is the High Queen! Everybody knows she favors you, and you're the one who has fairy dust. You, not Rhys. Not any of us. You could be high king someday.❞

It was true enough that he was the favorite, and that in the matter of succession nothing was decided yet. Morgana let Rhysand believe he was the heir, but she was too manipulative to be trusted. As long as no crown prince was elected, nothing was set in stone.

❝And then what? Change the rules, make everyone happy and nice with each other?❞ Aeron almost laughed. This was a child's dream. A human child's, not a fae's. ❝This is not our customs, Lyra. It's nothing more than a fairytale.❞ He could see the irony in that.

❝Don't you want more, though? I know you're better than that. Deep down.❞

Aeron didn't think he was - he was thriving just well amist all the cruelty and chaos - but he knew where Lyra got this idea. So he looked at her, putting one hand in the back of her head to make sure she listened to him.

❝You forget two things. First of all, I have absolutely no intention of being king. This is the most boring job in the world.❞

❝You'd rather keep being a pirate?❞

❝Yes, actually. I'd barely be at court if it wasn't for Mother. Which brings me to the second point: this debate is pointless because Morgana Le Fey will never abdicate the throne. She has countless years in front of her, no one can touch her as long as she has the Spectre. She's just using the heir title as bait to manipulate us and Rhys, Aldris and Euphemia are too blind or stupid to realize they're being played and moved around her board as she sees fit. I don't want the throne, but even if I did, I'd never have it.❞

❝But-❞

❝No more buts. You go to sleep now. And tomorrow, you'll get back on the training field.❞

The girl wanted to protest, but Aeron discretly moved his hands to make the dust settle directly on her face. She was yawning already, and her body fell on the mattress. She asked, before falling asleep: ❝If I get cast away, could I come on your ship?❞

❝I don't think you'd like it very much there either.❞ He answered, but she was snoring already.

Aeron got up and carried her body accross the castle, all the way to her room. She wouldn't wake up, this time.

The next day, he installed the double lock. She'd resent him for it, probably wouldn't even talk to him for a bit, but eventually it was for her own good. Lyra had to learn how to toughen up. The thing was, Aeron was quite sure she didn't have it in her...

[concreteburialplot]

VIRALITY // 01

01 - Business Offer

summary/masterlist: here

word count: 1.6k

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!oc / nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc

crossposted on: ao3 & wattpad

a/n: don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

VALLIE

I sat in a random white conference room for a meeting I'd been invited to with a potential client. The email I received came from the record label itself and specifically stated it would be a "strictly need-to-know basis" – so need to know that I didn't even know whom I was meeting.

Since my recent success with a chart-topping heartthrob, these meetings had gotten quite frequent. Though, not one had enticed me enough to take them on.

While I tapped my fingers on the glossy white table-top there was a bustle of male voices booming from down the hall, approaching the door. Instant disappointment fluttered in my chest - I wanted to take on a female client. I hadn't gotten the chance to really look over the label's roster to see whom they could possibly try to pair me with, but I sure was regretting it now.

Suddenly, the door opened, pouring in a flood of suit-and-tie businessmen followed by what I could only presume to be the talent; four tall, skinny men. Three with long past-shoulder length hair and one with slicked back short hair, all four adorned with ample tattoos. The last one to walk in had medium brown hair and tattoos trailing all the way up to his jawline. His fingers were wrapped in thick metal rings and his wrists with beaded bracelets. All four were in far from business attire; each with some variation of band tees, some with sleeves, some without and black jeans across the board. For a second I wondered if maybe they'd gotten me mixed up with somebody else.

I knew immediately what my answer would be before anyone said a word.

"Good evening Valerie." The most intimidating executive said as the rest took their seats around the rectangular table. Men like him used to intimidate me but it's amazing how success changes the way men treat you. Money is a powerful thing to hold in front of someone who wants it. The salt-and-pepper-haired man held out his hand, "I'm Richard Callahan, we spoke on the phone?"

"You can call me Vallie, or Val." I gave a tight-lipped smile and shook his hand, "Nice to meet you."

Richard gave me that ever identical overly enthusiastic smile that every businessman has before any big presentation. "This is my associate, Anthony." Pointing to another cookie-cutter executive, then gesturing towards the other four. "And this is the band, Bad Omens." Finally introducing the mystery men that had plopped into the office chairs at the head of the table opposite from me. "This is Jolly and Nicholas, the guitarists." Pointing to the other two long haired men. "Nick, drums." Motioning towards the slicked-back hair one. "And of course, this is Noah, the front man." The brunette man, whom I had already assumed to be the lead singer, propped his leather booted feet on the table. All of the men gave me a small nice-to-meet-you wave, except Noah.

Richard gave a nervous laugh, "Oh don't mind Noah." He waved away his actions, "He's just dramatic."

"Nice to meet you." I said professionally even though I was disgusted with his tactless act. Before the business brigade could speak again, "What kind of music do you make?" Speaking directly to the evidently pompous musician who hadn't even looked at me.

Chocolate brown eyes lined with thick lashes snapped up at me for the first time, "Metal." He said shortly. His voice was deeper than I anticipated it being.

"Uh - Rock." Richard clarified with a slightly anxious smile, "They're a rock band." Evidently trying to water down the genre for your regular wheelhouse.

"I'm sorry Richard, but I just don't represent 'rock' stars." I said curtly, closing the portfolio I'd brought.

He let out a sigh, lightly gripping the back of the tucked-in leather chair he stood behind, "Yes, we're aware. However, this could be a unique opportunity for you."

I raised my brows and picked up one of the various branded pens on the table, "Oh yeah? And what would that be?" Dragging my fingertips along the smooth generic plastic pen; the action could seem intimidating, but really it was just me fidgeting.

"Well, you see, Bad Omen's previous manager... quit." Your brows knitted at his careful wording. "Just after he left, the band started to go viral on Tiktok."

There it was, the magic word. The magic – money – word. It was like I was in a completely different meeting with different lenses on my eyes. Now that I was seeing things more clearly, I noticed a quite odd energy in the room, a sort of... tension? confliction?

I cleared my throat and intertwined my fingers on the table, "Now that's all fine and good, but anyone can go viral."

"Here's the thing," Anthony spoke up, spreading his olive-toned fingers out on the tabletop. "They went viral just days before they announced a new tour." My brow peaked in interest indicating for him to continue. "The tour sold out within minutes."

I tapped the plastic pen into my palm processing the words when Richard interjected again, "We had to book new bigger venues. We've upgraded nearly every venue."

"Uh huh..." I hummed watching the pen roll between my fingers taking in the details. "And why me?" Looking back up at Richard. "I know there are various publicists and marketing managers out there for alternative artists."

"Great question!" And the businessman's smile returned, "We want to-"

"They wanna sell us out." A raspy voice snapped from the long-haired singer.

Richard gave a nervous chuckle waving away his words, replacing them with business jargon, "We want to position the band to be the new 'mainstream rock band'."

"Uh...Huh..." My gaze landed on each pair of eyes looking at me, attempting to piece together the bizarre puzzle in front of me.

"We don't want to sell out." Spoke up the darker-haired guitarist, Nicholas. "We wanna be successful, of course, but we're okay with staying small if it means we don't sell out. If we can stay genuine."

While it presented a good challenge, it had been a while since a true rock band was on the radio stations. Trying to make rock mainstream was almost always fruitless, it just never happens the way it's intended. Especially metal, if this really was a metal band, it would be nearly impossible to do.

"I'm not trying to make it big." The lead dropped his booted feet off the table and to the ground with a heavy thud, "I'm just trying to make music that means something to people. I just wanna make music and perform, that's all."

"But you signed a contract no?" I spoke up from across the table, resulting in every face turning to me. The managers' expressions were surprised and excited but the musicians' not so much. "Contract" seemed to always be a dirty word in these sorts of meetings.

"Yes, exactly!" Richard praised me with enthusiastic hands, "They signed a multi-year contract with us." The energy between the managers and the band was intriguing, it was almost like they were scared of the band. Maybe their power or their fans? Or maybe their volatile reactions. But it was odd, nothing I'd ever seen before. These big-wig executive types typically aren't scared of anything, let alone 4 twenty-something-year-old boys. Perhaps they were just trying to break even on a bad investment. Whatever it was, it was something I wasn't seeing yet.

"That bastard signed the contract for us." Snapped Noah, dropping a concrete fist on the table reverberating the thump across the small conference room. I backed up at the loud slam as fear briefly trickled down my spine.

"I told you, it doesn't matter. He still made us put our signatures on the paper." Jolly tried to ration, his voice had a bit of an accent I couldn't quite place. Though, it was clear that he was the more even-tempered and logical one – maybe slightly older?

"Shut up Jolly." The talent retorted, waving away his reasoning, "We don't need another goddamn manager. We've done just fine handling ourselves."

"You know I'm not a full manager, right? I'm a marketing manager and I can handle some publicity, but I'm not a sheep herder." I peeked a brow at the men, my eyes following them each down the line.

"Yes, we will take over any management duties you can't fulfil. We just need you to bring people to them and keep the fans happy."

The sight before me was quite telling of what trying to manage and publicize this band would look like, that combined with the low probability of achieving their lofty goals didn't seem at all enticing, nonetheless lucrative. I got lucky with my current client who was an absolute joy to be around and direct but this – this just seemed like a giant headache.

"Listen, Richard," Making it a point to address him directly, "I just don't think I am the right fit for this...project."

"Just one concert." Anthony spoke up from the background, "They have a show tonight, just come hang out backstage. Watch the performance, watch the crowd, watch the merch sales. Then give us an answer."

My temple pulsed under my fingertips as they rolled in circles contemplating the overly forced pitch. Whether it was the eyes boring into me, the circumstances of their virality, the challenge, or all of the above, I didn't know – but I agreed. "Fine. One show. That's it."

-> Next Chp: 02 - Small Venues

thank you if you got this far! i didn’t see many bad omens fics, so i wanted to contribute.

i write for other fandoms so i just used the same format as i do for them 😊

[ace-malarky]

Olympian

In which Syn rethinks some decisions and contemplates what going home means now

also the last of the prompts! who knows what we'll get next week ahaha

work that out when we get there, right?

(actually we're taking a break next week because I am Out of Town and that lined up rly nicely. I'd say planned, except I was sure this was supposed to go up when I was away^^;)

~~

They had known, conceptually, that this was going to be hard. Alone in an enemy country, pretending to be someone they’re not. Lying.

Admittedly, they were good at that. Their shapeshifting gave them an edge, of course, but–

“Val.” Someone thumped their shoulder.

Syn snapped back to attention. “Sorry sir.”

“Is this a case of working you too hard or not enough?” Jaiel shook his hand out as if he’d actually hurt himself. “I can never tell with dragon touched.”

“We aren’t a monolith,” they replied.

“Yes, I suppose you aren’t.” He returned to the couch, sprawling across it on his front. His wings were half open, one over the back of the couch and the other draped onto the floor, the feathers in disarray.

Syn resisted the urge to tart grooming them, as they had done since meeting the prince. They didn’t need to give the wrong impression.

They didn’t need to carve themself out a place any more than they already had. This was a job, this wasn’t – they weren’t here to make friends.

Bad enough that Bryn was making inroads for them, carving them out a space in the dragon touched community.

Syn always felt a little like a fraud, but it was getting worse than ever with each gathering they turned up to.

2You’re not listening, are you?” Jaiel asked. “Really, Val, if you’re going to be so unresponsive, I might as well have asked for Neryd today.”

“Sorry sir,” Syn repeated, dragging their attention back to him. “I’ll do my best not to let it happen again.”

“Yes, see that you don’t.” Jaiel gave them a reproving glance, propping his chin up on his palms. His foot rotated aimlessly in the air. “You’re right, though. All this waiting around is boring. Perhaps we should find some way to amuse ourselves, hm? Keep us alert?”

“We aren’t to leave this room until summoned,” Syn said, keeping their voice level.

“No, we just have to be here when they call for us.” Jaiel twisted to his feet and stretched. “Think outside of the box, Val.” He made a vague attempt to tug his shirt and waistcoat back into neatness.

“And if we are not in here when they call for us?”

He dropped his hands back down and made a face at them. “Oh, you’re no fun today.”

“My apologies, sir.”

He laughed, slinging an arm over their shoulder. “Oh, Val, you’re far too good. Don’t you know a little youthful rebellion is good for the soul?” He frowned, studying their face. “How old are you? I can never tell with the scales.”

Syn fought to keep their face expressionless, though the urge to roll their eyes was immense.

Jaiel snorted and let them go. “Keep your secrets, then.”

The hardest part of their job, Syn reflected, was not the subterfuge or the constant lying or being separated from their friends and family. It was not responding to Jaiel’s absolute bullshit with the mockery and teasing it deserved.

They didn’t even have anyone to complain at about it, either. Not safely.

2val.”

They snapped back to attention as the door opened.

Jaiel laughed. “Oh, alright. Is it time?”

Miseidon nodded. “They’re waiting for you now.”

“Oh, well, if they’re waiting for us.” Jaiel tucked his wings into his back. “Let’s see what they want, hm, Val?”

His feathers were still in disarray, but he didn’t care and no one would dare comment on it.

Syn walked behind him and did their best to push down the urge to attempt a fix themself. It would not be welcomed.

Or maybe it would, and that would create a whole different problem.

Miseidon knocked on the door of the war room, waited a beat for some signal Syn didn’t catch, and pushed it open for them.

“Prince Jaiel. Our apologies for keeping you waiting.”

Syn flicked glances around the room as best they could without being obvious. They hadn’t had a chance to be in here before, and it would be of great use if they could get information back.

“Oh, we’ve had a grand old time just whiling away the hours, haven’t we Val?”

“Yes, your highness.” Syn answered, dipping their head in a bow to the room at large.

“So,” Jaiel clapped his hands, striding forward to the end of the table, “what have you got for us today?”

His father cleared his throat. “Jaiel.”

“Father.” Jaiel rested his hands on the table. “I hope you aren’t about to waste my time with trivial updates.”

“Your bodyguard should not be in here. Dismiss them.”

Syn tensed but started to step back.

Jaiel stopped them, spreading one wing out at their back. “Oh? We trust them with my life but not our plans? Wherever I go, they will be going as well, I hope you realise.”

Syn froze, hyper aware of his feathers brushing against them.

“He will be taking an escort with him,” said one of the advisors, “of which they will surely be a part.”

“Yes, father, do you care so little for me that I must change my bodyguard to suit your whim? Val and I get on so well.”

Syn chanced a look at the table. A map of their two countries, the dragon touched mountains at the edge. It showed the roads, the rivers, the cities, and the forests in detail, the checkpoints marked with miniature battalion. The sea coast had a few ships, some towers, but was largely free.

“It is a diplomatic mission, your majesty.”

“A dragon touched may give the wrong impression.”

Syn didn’t frown. They’d heard some stories of the fighting prowess of dragon touched – it was part of why they’d chosen the form – but every dragon touched they had met had been nothing like that. It was only a small sample and the stories had to come from somewhere, but–

“Very well,” the king was saying, in response to something Syn had missed, “they may stay. But this is in strictest confidence. Not one word of this is to leave this room until you are on your way. Is that clear?”

“Yes, father.” Jaiel folded his wings back in.

“Your majesty.” Syn bowed.

“Verial has been asking for an opening of trade routes, which they claim will be beneficial for both countries.”

A buzz of laughter rippled through the room.

Syn was alert, awake, focused. Every inch of them locked in on what the king would say next.

“In the spirit of such overtures, we thought it best to send you, Prince Jaiel, to head the talks. To show how serious we are.”

They were going home.

“Father, that sounds terribly dull. It won’t be all board meetings and business lunches, will it?” Jaiel scowled. “I hope not.”

They were going home.

“You will not be going alone. I will send some of our top diplomats with you, and a strong guard presence. Do not do anything to upset the talks.”

“Of course not, father, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

… Fuck, they were going home. Not as themself. As part of a diplomatic party from a country they had a tenuous relationship with.

“Was this really all you had us waiting for?” Jaiel said, in sulky tones that suggested it could have just as well been a message.

His father raised his eyebrows. “I was expecting to have to convince you, not this… ready acquiesance.”

“Ah, well, that is all Val’s doing. They’re a good influence.”

“Is that so.” The king turned his gaze on Syn. “You are not long in our court, are you?”

“No, sir.”

“They have worked well on their own merit. A perfect guard,” said Carrisan.

“Yes, you’re not too mad I stole them from you, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“I am grateful for the opportunities afforded to me.” Syn bowed, keeping their face blank against the internal screaming. “I hope to do you proud.”

“Keep my son alive. Do your job, and do it well.”

Syn raised themself back up, slowly. Their job was going to get so much harder.

[dragon-kazansky]

Sunday Morning

Iceman x Dragon

There is nothing more perfect than spending Sunday morning cuddling in bed until way after noon.

Just a short fluff piece.

♡♡♡

There was no other time quite like a Sunday morning. The one day of the week where they neither of the pair needed to be on base. A day to stay in bed as late as they want and just enjoy each other's company.

Rachael was laying with her head on Tom's chest. He had an arm around her, hand resting on her back. He was still fast asleep, but Rachael was simply laying with her eyes closed as she listened to his gentle breathing. It was peaceful.

Dragon loved mornings like this. A morning where they didn't have to be up before the sun to get ready for a day of flying. A morning where they can cuddle and enjoy the comfort of their bed for longer. A morning where she can wake up and admire her husband while he rests soundly beside her.

It was perfect.

Rachael places her hand on Tom's chest, just under her chin. Her gentle fingers run along his bare skin. She always considered Tom Kazansky to be a work of art. So handsome.

He stirs slightly. His wife is awake. Tom takes a moment to wake up himself. He wipes at his eyes with his free hand and then turns his head to see his wife looking up at him.

"Good morning," she smiles.

He chuckles softly. "Good morning."

Dragon snuggles him. He wraps both his arms around her and cuddles her back.

"Have you been awake long?" He asks.

"Not really. I'm sorry if I woke you."

He smiles. "Don't be sorry. I was going to wake up at some point. Now I just get to admire you."

Rachael giggles. "Hush you."

"Me? Alright, I'll pretend I don't know that's what you doing to me before I woke up."

Rachael hides her face into his chest.

"We should spend all day like this," he mutters.

"I'd like that." Rachael looks up. "But first, let me go make us some tea. Or would you like coffee this morning?"

"Tea would be nice."

Rachael plants a kiss over Tom's heart and escapes his embrace to get up. Tom watches her get up and leave, a smile on his face as she goes.

Tom rests his head back against his pillow while he waits for her to return. He closes his eyes and listens to quietness outside. The window was open a crack and the only sounds he can hear are a dog somewhere in the distance, and the odd car. Other than, their street was quiet on this fine morning.

The door opens and Rachael comes in, two mugs in her hands. She walks over to the bed and puts one mug down in the table on her side, and holds out the other. Tom sits up against his propped up pillows and takes the mug from her. Rachael climbs back into bed and sits as close as can be to him, picking up her own tea.

Tom takes a sip and smiles. "Lovely."

Rachael chuckles.

The two sit there with minimum conversation between them. When Rachael has finished her drink, she snuggles back down on top of her husband again. Tom laughs as he he wraps one arm around her. She settles her head back on his chest.

Tom finishes his tea so he can snuggle back into bed with her. He had no intention of getting up unless necessary today.

Rachael closes her eyes again.

Tom runs his fingers through her hair. If he could stay like this forever with her, he would. This would be the moment he would want to freeze.

The two dose off.

It's about one o'clock when Tom stirs awake again. He sees Rachael still asleep beside him. He smiles softly. Tom rolls over and brings her closer to him. He doesn't care about what time it was. If Rachael wanted rest, he would rest with her.

The pair of them work their asses off day in and day out. When Sunday comes around, they make the most of their time just by being together like this.

They deserve the break.

[clouduru-chan]

gunpowder

Capítulo 3

Y/n Y/s on

It was fun playing with Vash, we were admiring the sun going down, it was shyly hiding over the buildings, but I felt a nice warmth on my little finger of my left hand, I realized that the thread ended in Vash, I didn't understand that to tell you the truth, I had seen this thread somewhere before, but I don't remember much. Well, it's getting dark, and I should get home, and I'd better take the blondie along with me, because I don't want my best friend to get lost or isolated in Saitama, and since I'm 6 years old and he's 1 year old, I'm practically his guardian.

I soon take Vash's hand firmly, he had strange designs on his skin, and also wore a strange outfit, but with the little conversation I had with him it cleared up a little about his attire.

(Y/n): Well it's getting dark, let's go to my place!

(Vash): To your place?

(Y/N): Yes!

With that I pull the blond man over so we can begin our long walk to my house, well it was close to the playground, but I always preferred to take the long way because of the scary things I saw in the alleys that were quick shortcuts to my house.

They were horrible, laughed at my face, ran at me, and looked grotesque.

So I preferred to take the long way.

And with that we started our walk to my house, I was very happy to have a new friend who is an alien, well he said he's not an alien, but he doesn't fool me.

He said he is a PLANT, maybe that is the name of his race as an alien being.

I just wish Mom wasn't home so as not to spoil the moment, but since I know she won't be back for a few weeks to buy her little white powder to smell, then I shouldn't worry.

I noticed that the blond was looking at the things around him with admiration, he held my hand tightly, it was firm but so delicate, people were looking at us strangely, maybe because of the clothes Vash was wearing or because we were holding hands, well mom has always held hands with several men, each one different, so I don't understand why they are looking at me the same way they look at her.

But I better ignore that, maybe they are just jealous of how awesome my best friend is, that must be it.

Because Mom has several friends and she gives love to each of them, so... Why can't I do the same?

Vash poked my shoulder, his blue eyes were shining with curiosity.

(Vash): What is that?

He pointed to a pink bicycle that was propped up in a tree.

(y/n): it is a bicycle

(Vash): and what is it for?

(y/n): to move faster without having to walk... I think... Let's keep going, it will take us a while to get home

He had a smile on his face, everything was new to him, for some reason, I liked his expression.

A break in time

It was all dark, the street was being illuminated by streetlamps, at the moment Vash and I were in front of the door of my house, I was messing with a plant that was beside the door, because that was where I hid the house keys.

Soon I take the key from under the earth and clean it with my white shirt, and with that I open the door of the house, I make a small gesture for vash to enter first, with this the blond entered and followed him along, already inside the house I closed the door and turned on the house lights.

It was a bit messy, because I couldn't clean the house by myself.

And sometimes Mom would mess up what I had packed to look for money or her medicines.

Well, I didn't know what to prepare for dinner, since I didn't know how to cook, so I would have to prepare another packet lamen or Cup Noodles.

We were a bit dirty with dirt from rolling on the playground floor, so first we had to take a shower and then prepare something to eat.

(Y/N): vash let's take a shower! And then we will eat!

(Vash): hum... Ok! What are we going to eat?

(Y/n): pork-flavored lamen!

I noticed that the blond guy bowed his head to the side without understanding anything, I guess he has never eaten this kind of thing.

With that I went to my room to get two towels and some loose clothes that I had to show Vash.

When I see the boy looking at me, I don't understand why, but I feel so warm.

I try to ignore this feeling.

(S/n): Vash if you want you can go take a shower first!

(Vash): Um... Ok!

Soon the blond guy takes the clothes and the towel that was in my hands and goes straight to the bathroom, I think that when he goes to clean himself I will leave half prepared the food.

I go to the small kitchen and get a stool to climb up on the cupboard to get one of the packages of instant lamen and an old pot.

With a little difficulty I manage to grab the two packages that were within my reach.

With the packages already in my hands, I place them on the sink while I take the old and dented aluminum pan that was under the kitchen sink, then I turn on the faucet and put on the water, take the lamen from its packages and dip them in the water of the pan, with that done, I take the slightly heavy pan and put it on the stove, I turn to get the water heater that was on the counter beside the sink, I go to the stove again, I light the gas along with the lighter and turn on the fire, with this the first step was already done.

I took a fork with slightly crooked teeth and started to stir the noodles in the pot, to speed up the process of softening the raw noodles.

As I was doing this I hear the sound of the shower turning on and a scream from the blond guy, so I stop what I was doing and run to the bathroom, and knock on the door worried about my friend.

(Y/N): What's up vash?! What happened?

Narrator on

On the other side of the door, the little blond was shivering with cold and knocking his teeth lightly against each other.

(Vash): The water is cold....

At this news, the little girl's heart stopped racing in a certain way, a sigh of relief escaped her lips, and a dull smile appeared on her face.

(Y/n): Shall I take the temperature for you?

(Vash): Y-yes....

The door was not locked with a key, so S/n had an easy time opening the door, she saw the naked body of the blonde, he was shivering with cold, the girl was not embarrassed to see that, she just thought it was strange what was between Vash's legs, but she could not ask questions, she simply took the squeegee that was on the side of the toilet and tapped lightly on the shower to change the temperature, since it was small and did not reach the place to change the temperature.

The young girl with (h/c) hair, changed the temperature to a warmer one.

(Y/N): There! Sorry vash, I should have fixed that, hehehe

The blond's face was slightly flushed, the boy nodded shyly at that, soon the girl left the bathroom and leaned against the wall.

Vash quickly went to the shower and turned it on again, the temperature of the water changed, warming his cold little body.

Meanwhile, s/n was stirring the food, which was almost ready.

When the noodles started to become soft and almost cooked, the girl took the two small packages that contained the seasoning for the instant lamen, tearing and releasing the slightly brownish powder into the water, the 6 year old started to stir the noodles again.

Vash had already come out of the bathroom, he was dry and wearing the clothes of the girl who was hosting him in her house, the little blond was wearing a long blue t-shirt, which was actually a dress, and orange shorts underneath.

The blond boy's mouth was watering, because the smell was so good, he soon sat down at the table, waiting for the food to be ready.

(Y/n): it's almost ready, with that I'm going to take a shower too, Vash in a minute can you turn off the oven later?

(Vash): turn off the oven? How do you turn it off?

The girl waved her hand to call the boy, Vash went to the little human, he was looking at the old stove.

(Y/n): Do you see these buttons? The one turned to the left is the one that lit this mouth of the stove that is cooking the lamen! Just turn it in the opposite direction!

(Vash): ok ....

The boy was a little nervous about it, but it was something simple to do, but he would not disappoint his new friend.

[atlasscrumpit]

Few prompt ideas if you'd like

• Jake washing his limo and putting on a show for Steven

• Marcsteven at the beach

• Steven being possessive of Marc and Jake. He shows them who they belong to

• Marcstevenjake cuddling

Wonderful ideas love

Jake washing his limo and putting on a show for Steven

Steven felt his consciousness waking once more and he looked up to see Jake above him. Well, Steven was in a reflection while he watched Jake above him.

"Jake what are doing?" He asked as Jake stood back and looked at the reflection smiling when he saw Steven.

Steven started to blush realised Jake was shirtless, he only had an old pare of jeans on.

"Just washing my car mi amor. Nice to see you again." He said as he looked at Steven watching him.

"You have this body too, yet when you see me shirtless you still brush." Jake said lowly as Steven's eyes widened and he blushed looking up at Jake's face.

"Don't get embarrassed, I think it's sweet." Jake said leaning over the reflection to clean the top of the car letting Steven have an even better look at his body.

"Stop messing around Jake." Steven muttered making him chuckle and stand back to see Steven again.

"Come on mi amor, I know you like it. What? Do you want me more wet?" Jake said grabbing the hose and spraying his chest with it sighing when the cold water hit him.

Steven couldn't take his eyes off him as he tried to not blush too much.

Jake turned off the water and smiled at Steven.

"Is that how you like me?" Jake taunted as Steven stuttered for words. Jake chuckled again and continued cleaning the car.

"I'll just keep cleaning until you need anything else alright mi amor?"

MarcSteven at the beach

Marc sighed closing his eyes relaxing on the towl he had placed on the sand. Steven and him finally were able to take a holiday, and Steven had never actually been to a beach so Marc thought it was perfect.

"Can we go swimming?" Steven asked in his head as he chuckled.

"We will I just want to relax for a bit buddy." Marc replied putting his hands behind his head and sighing again.

"You look good like this." Steven muttered making Marc chuckle softly.

"Yeah? You liking the view baby?" Marc whispered propping himself up on his arms.

"If you were here beside me I'd be having beach sex right about now." Marc said, he knew Steven would've gone bright red.

"Marc!" Steven scolded as Marc chuckled again.

"I'm just playing buddy."

Steven being possessive of Marc and Jake

Jake and Marc had been so busy lately, and when they did get free time they were too tired to spend time with Steven.

He sat within the mind pouting in his bed. He heard the door open and looked up to see Marc and Jake coming in, their body must be sleeping.

"Look I'm just saying that between Khonshu and Arthur I would rather fuck Khonshu." Marc said as Steven looked up at them. They looked down but their smile faded when they saw Steven pouting.

"Mi amor what's the matter?" Jake asked with worry as Steven didn't look up at them.

They sat either side of him on the bed and Marc placed his hand on his knee.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Marc whispered as Steven looked up at him.

"I don't like how much time you're spending on missions. With other people." He grumbled as they both looked at him.

"What do you mean?" Jake asked.

"I want you to both be mine, you both are mine. But you've been to busy and spending time with others." Steven muttered as they looked at him in shock. They didn't expect Steven to be the possessive jealous type.

"We are yours Steven, we just spend a lot of time on missions that's all." Marc reassured him before Steven grabbed Marc's shirt and pulled him forward into a rough kiss.

"I don't want you forgetting about me." Steven muttered looking into Marc's eyes. He was shocked to say the least. He felt Jake wrap his arms around him from behind and kiss his neck.

"Then why don't you remind us who we belong to mi amor?" Jake whispered kissing along his neck.

"Make sure we always remember who owns us." Marc whispered leaning forward to kiss Steven again.

"You want us to be your good boys baby?" Marc whispered making Steven bite his lip and nod.

"Then show us."

MarcStevenJake cuddling

Marc collapsed onto the bed within their mind as he groaned.

He was so tired from everything he just needed time to rest. Just as he was drifting off the door swung open and he jumped up in shock to see Steven running in.

He groaned and buried his face in the bed as he felt Steven sit on the bed beside him.

"You okay?" Steven whispered as Marc nodded.

"Yeah just tired." Marc muttered closing his eyes again.

"Well, I think that would be the perfect time for cuddling." Steven said laying on top of Marc's back and cuddling into him.

"Steven you really don't need to do that." Marc muttered as Steven smiled and nuzzled into him.

"Shh it's okay, just enjoy it." Steven said making Marc smile ever so slightly. The door opened again and Steven saw Jake entering making Marc groan again.

"Jake! Come cuddle with us." Steven said making Jake smile and kick off his shoes. He came over to the bed and grabbed Steven off Marc before dragging Marc to lay on his back.

"I just want to take a fucking nap." Marc groaned not even fighting against Jake. He knew Jake was one to man handle them.

Jake cuddled into Marc's side and laid his head on his chest gesturing for Steven to do the same on the other side.

Steven happily crawled over and cuddled into Marc feeling Jake's arm over his.

"See? Isn't this better?" Steven asked closing his eyes.

"Yeah yeah just let me nap." Marc said bus he smiled softly and pulled his arms up to rest of each of their backs before they all fell asleep.

Hope you liked them all! 💜

[k-indie]

the maid

synopsis: you're one of the maids for a strange gentlemen who shares the grand mansion with two other gentlemen and they all have their eyes on you

pairings; we'll find out ;)

Un | Deux

tags; nsfw eventually, just gotta find the footing first so bear with me i'll make it worth your while, prince(ss)

The air was so thick that you could practically step on it as if you were going up a flight of stairs.

The red eyes piercing your soul were mildly daunting in the sense that you'd never seen eyes so red before, so hungry for something that you couldn't quite put your finger on. And it was intense.

He just kept staring at you--the way you sat with one arm propped up on the back of the chair, hand dangling with one leg kicked out and the other bent at a ninety-degree angle and the other arm holding up your curved weight on the arm of the chair--and he never looked away, letting his eyes wander over your body.

And if you were anybody else, you'd be uncomfortable, scared even. But you were you and his intense stare only made things awkward because no one was speaking even if your poker face made it hellishly clear that you were about to get up and leave.

And as if he were reading those thoughts of leaving, he spoke after that long period of nothingness reaching your ears. "You're hired."

What? He didn't even ask any questions. He must be delusional.

"You didn't ask me anything, sweetheart. Are you sure about that?"

He sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes and stood from his desk, unfolding his previously crossed arms and towering over you, leaning closer to you than was necessary, "You start on Thursday. I'll have your uniform ready so be here at 7 a.m. sharp, and don't call me sweetheart. Know your place." ( ;) )

You rose a brow and a sound of displeasure and confusion came from the back of your throat. "Alright, sweetheart. I'll see you bright and early on Thursday at eight. Sharp."

Before he could respond, you ducked under one of his arms and bolted out of your seat, out the door, and through the foyer to your car parked at the front steps. 'How intriguing...'

After starting your car and getting ready to pull off, a tap on your window made you release the firm grip you had on your steering wheel, looking to the passenger window to see a cute, black-haired girl smiling through it and waving to roll the window down.

"Hi, I'm Ji-ah. I wanted to introduce myself but you ran out so fast. Are you alright?"

Even though she was out of breath, her control over it was astounding the way she spoke as if she hadn't lost it. The heaving of her chest and strong breaths through her nose made it obvious she ran from a small distance to reach you and what speed, you wondered.

"I'm (Name). It's nice to meet you, Ji-ah."

"What a pretty name! I also wanted to know if you were hired or not? He doesn't tell us very much about new hires or potentials employees when they visit so we have to go out of our way to get necessary information so we can make room for you."

You tilted your head slightly, eyes squinting slightly, 'Make room for me...?'

"We are required to remain on the grounds for the duration of our shifts. If we're good enough to work for him, he allows us to live in the mansion so we can cut the time of commute and always be early. So, I hope you work well. You seem like such a sweet girl already and I'd love to work with you."

With that, she turned on her heel and quickly jogged back into the mansion, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the window still rolled down. And from the spot you were in, you could see the shadow of the man who hired you standing at the door as the girl shuffled past him quickly, almost looking uncomfortable as she slipped through. And then the door slammed shut and you were quick to pull off, leaving the window down and rolling yours open.

Job bagged.

"Isn't this... a bit weird?"

The center of your forehead creased, allowing your brows to touch while you rolled your eyes and motioned once with your index finger to the maid outfit you'd been sucked into. The question earned a couple of giggles and you smiled slightly at the lightheartedness of the fellow maids who helped dress you.

"Well, at first it is. But you do get used to it."

"Mm, I loved it as soon as I put this on! I love being a maid."

Humming to yourself at the revelations, you turned back to the mirror and stared at the maid outfit you were given and frowned, "Are there other maids beside us?"

The smiles on their faces slowly began to fall and you grew even more curious. "What? Am I not allowed to ask that question or something?"

The girl you met on the day you were hired spoke first, "Master Sukuna doesn't like for us to talk about the previous maids."

The other girl, Aki as she'd so sweetly introduced herself as, looked down at the floor, fingers twiddling together and her body slowly began to tremble.

"Well, he doesn't have to know. Just tell me."

Ji-ah stared into your eyes, almost touching your soul with them and she approached you slowly, gripping your hands in hers tightly. "If I tell you, you must promise to never speak of it again. We've lost a couple of girls because they were afraid of Master Sukuna alone, and the rest.... They died."

Your rose a brow at the idea. "How many?"

"36."

Your brows rose higher together, eyes slightly blown out and head canting forward. "What? 36 girls dead," you whispered, holding her hand tighter than she held yours, "From what?"

"Master Sukuna-"

"Let's go, ladies! We don't have all day. We need to get this place spotless before Master's meeting this afternoon."

Your heads snapped to the direction of the voice, a tall man in a butler suit who obviously didn't care to look your way as his gaze pierced the wall behind you all, uncaring of if you were fully dressed or not. "Tick tock." The girls quickly fixed theirselves to look fully presentable and quickly shuffled out of the room to get started on their chores.

He turned around and left, leaving you reeling on the idea of how the girls died, why they died, and if anyone knew of it. Why wasn't this place even on the map and why did you have to take directions from a newspaper article instead of finding it on Google Maps or whatever? This place has secrets. And you're going to figure them out.

"Not like that... like this. He likes small circles, not long lines." Ji-ah quickly showed you how to work the vacuum in small circles before rushing off to put laundry away.

You were only two hours into the chores and were already making rookie mistakes. Albeit, all of the requests of specified cleaning tasks were particular to the owner's taste and you mentally cursed yourself for taking a job for a man who definitely has obsessive-compulsive personality disorder and is most likely the assailant of those poor girls who disappeared.

If you didn't clean right, would you be next?

You shook the thought from your head and started to vacuum the carpet in small, tessellated circles and by the end of it, you were dizzy and had a bad case of vertigo.

Kneeling one knee on the floor with one hand holding you up, you held the vacuum on it's back wheels and breathed slowly through your nose and out through your mouth to calm your nerves. You weren't exactly fond of spinning around so much, but you knew you'd break it in in due time.

"Why are you sleeping on the job, girl?"

You slowly rose your head to look at the man, eyes squinted at the lack of blood in your head and you leaned back on your heel. "How's the carpet looking, King?," throwing the last part at him sarcastically, you trusted your body enough to stand fully, only coming up to his chest and glaring up at him.

"Get back to work." His breath fanned over your face and you were afraid a booger might shoot out of his nose at how harsh he pushed the air through his nose. You held back your laughter at the thought, covered with that same poker face from before and immediately unplugged the device and rolled it away to it's original space in his walk-in closet-sized utility room. You'd seen many houses with similar designs, similar layouts, but this room had something off about it, as if something terrible had happened in that room. And you were too happy to leave the room alone with its disgusting energy and sinister shadows lurking in the corners.

You looked over your list of chores, seeing the living room was squared away and checking off the last task, you moved on to the dining room, and then the kitchen, and by the time Sukuna's guests came, you were fully prepared to serve lunch as had been requested of you. You didn't have to cook, he had someone who did that already, you were required to set the table, plate the food when the guests entered and fast.

Of course, they were all men and they were all handsome, a few of them whistling lowly as they watched you work, plating food for them faster than you'd ever plated food and somehow it was placed nicely. Beginner's luck? Chef Ramsey would be proud, not a drop out of place.

As you were finally plating the last man's food, his eyes subtly ran over your form, eyeing the way your thighs peaked out under the mid-length maid outfit and the way they spilled out of the thigh-highs adorning the limbs. He seemed antsy the entire time and you noticed the tent forming in his pants when you turned to place the utensils and food bowl back on the cart. And just before you left his area, a loud smack was heard and your thigh stung at the contact.

You paused, staring blankly ahead for a long moment before slowly turning to face the man who was now smirking and seemed less antsy, the rest of the men staring up at you and back to their colleague.

A small smirk played on your lips, leaning down to the man and roughly grabbing his cheeks, nails digging into his skin and he glared wide-eyed at you at the contact. "If you wanted touch me, you could've asked," you picked up the knife on the right side of his plate and pressed it against his throat with your free hand and nicking him enough to draw blood. "I would've said no of course. But a gentlemen should know how to treat a lady, right?"

He didn't move, didn't respond, just breathed shakily and stared at you. And as soon as you drove the knife deeper into his neck, spurting a little bit more blood on the knife and his neck than before, he spoke, "Yes-yes, I know my place, miss."

"Now apologize."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Good boy," you said, removing the knife quickly before wiping the blood on his expensive-looking suit, placing it lazily back on the table and pushing the cloth he would've used to wipe his face from food spills now to be used on his bloodied neck. "Wipe yourself off, you're a bloody mess."

You released his cheeks aggressively, pressing the cloth against his neck with more force than necessary and you almost groaned at the whimper of pain he let out.

Pathetic.

And with that, you walked out, not sparing your employer a glance and listening to the small sounds of surprise coming from a few of the men.

Sukuna would definitely be having a chat with you after the stunt you pulled in the dining room.

© pulchritxde | do not repost/copy | enjoy. part 2 Sunday evening