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jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav · 3 years

Note

Ah, your work is so cute and it puts me in a good mood! You also have the characters personalities perfected! I was wondering if you could do a fic where maybe Mammon and MC are hanging out and MC comes out as trans (Ftm), but on accident (like Mammon sneaks a peak at his phone and noticed pride stuff and asks). Recently figured out I was and it’s been a bumpy ride and I just need a fic to cheer me up. Thank you if you do

You sir have been Most Patient, and for that I cannot thank you enough! This is super late, but I hope all is going well with you and your journey. ^-^ I also hope you still get some enjoyment out of this fic, even if it’s oh so very late.

Like… a year late. Maybe more. Probably more.

Sidebar, the setup for this feels kinda long but I also personally think it’s funny so I’m leaving it. I don’t have an editor to tell me no sooooooo :p

Content warnings: Accidental outing as trans, the mortifying ordeal of coming out, but otherwise this is gonna be pretty fluffy.

Also, this isn’t a warning, but since I usually do gn stuff, I’m gonna be extra clear and say this fic is about a transgender male MC who uses he/him pronouns. Ladies and theydies, if you’d like your time, please wait until I’ve opened requests again and I’ll be happy to write ‘ya something.

Cis people who want to be transphobic? Why are you even here lmao

MC Comes Out as FTM By Accident (feat. Mammon)

It’s a (relatively) quiet day at the House of Lamentation. Satan is still firmly in the scheming phase of his latest prank; Lucifer is in some parlour somewhere, sipping Demonus and listening to a record that would “somberly vibrate the flesh off of your mortal bones, MC”; and Levi and the twins are livestreaming a bet about how many of the otaku third born’s figurines Beel can bench press (the latter two are under threat of 1000 years of torture if any of the merchandise is damaged).

This leaves Mammon and MC chilling on one of the House’s many frighteningly expensive couches, sometimes chatting, sometimes just silently sharing Devilgram memes with each other.

(Asmo had been with them, but left after declaring that the sexual tension Mammon constantly radiated while around MC had become more pathetic than amusing. MC had just rolled his eyes and laughed, but judging by how many pillows Mammon had thrown his brother’s way and the dark blush on his face, he was taking the teasing more seriously.)

Personally, MC didn’t get why Mammon’s brothers gave him such a hard time. Sure he can be abrasive and his refusal to be honest despite how terrible he is at lying could get… frustrating, to say the least, but all in all he isn’t a bad person. Maybe demons are just bad at expressing genuine fondness for each other. Or maybe it just runs in the family, so to speak.

“H-hey, what are ‘ya staring at?!” Oops. MC didn’t even realize he’d been eyeing Mammon for that long. Not that he minds getting an extra eyeful of Mammon...

“Sorry, just spaced out for a minute there,” he says.

Neither break eye contact for a long moment.

Shit, this is awkward. Think, MC, say something!

“So did you see this video of a hellhound on a trampoline—”

A glass-shattering shriek echoes through the House of Lamentation, followed by — oh that is actual glass shattering — and the plip-plap footsteps of someone running with bare, wet feet. Seconds later, a furious and appropriately damp Asmodeus comes flying down the stairs, with a weird orange and white towel on his head… Aaaaand nothing else on. MC doesn’t get to process any more than that before Mammon pounces on him, straddling him and covering his eyes with a hand.

“Asmo! What the hell are you doing, running around naked and screaming?!”

“I think you know why, you stupid scumbag!” Asmo retorts with an affronted flip of his hair. Or at least MC thinks it was his hair, all he knows is he just got lightly splashed. Why does he smell citrus?

“What are you even talking about?”

“I was going to take a nice, relaxing bath to scrub off your desperation for MC’s affections—”

“I am NOT desperate!”

“— but when I washed my hair, you know what happened?”

“...You confused orange juice for shampoo?” Mammon drawls. MC doesn’t need his vision to picture the smirk on Mammon’s face.

“How dare you,” Asmo hisses at much lower volume than before, “I would never confuse any of my bathing products.” His voice immediately returns to its regular cadence. “No, someone snuck dye into it, or replaced it, or cursed it or something! Because now,” a towel smacks wetly against the floor, “my hair looks like this!”

Mammon howls with laughter, prompting Asmo to make several sounds MC semi-confidently determines to be swears in Infernal… or whatever the native language of the Devildom is called.

He paws at Mammon’s hand obscuring his vision. If Asmo’s hair has been turned into a creamsicle by some prank gone wrong, he very much wants to see the damage. Unfortunately, Mammon doesn’t budge.

“Not that this isn’t extremely hilarious, but what does it have to do with me?”

Asmo squawks indignantly. “What does it— It was obviously you, you idiot!”

Finally, Mammon removes his hand from MC’s eyes to point an accusatory finger at Asmo and proclaim, “No way!”

The brothers’ petty argument fades into white noise as MC beholds Asmo’s hair. It truly is something else. The demon’s curls have gone from a peachy pink to a swirled mess of neon orange, with pieces of the original colour peaking through here and there. It cannot be played off as intentional or good in any way. There are even patches of his skin that are dyed orange as well. It’s pretty hilarious.

MC is starting to lose feeling in his legs.

“Uh, Mammon? You mind getting off of me?”

Eyes enormous, the Avatar of Greed does just that, and instead presses himself into the other side of the couch like a startled cat. Asmo rolls his eyes and turns his attention to MC.

“You’re not overwhelmed with the most poorly hidden crush of the millenia, right? Would you mind helping me sort this mess out?” he asks. “Think about it. It’ll just be you and me, all glistening and—”

“Not helping your case,” MC retorts, carefully keeping his eyes above Asmo’s waist, “but yeah, whatever cursed soda got into your hair stuff is probably close enough to normal stains that my tricks will help get them out. But! You need to put on some clothes first.”

“Spoilsport~ But if you insist…” Asmo smiles beatifically and saunters back to his room, making absolutely no effort to cover himself as he goes.

I’d kill for his confidence, MC thinks. He promises Mammon he’ll be back as soon as possible and takes his leave, following the trail of watery footprints.

~~~

Mammon remains folded into the corner of the couch, pouting. Of course Asmo had to come and steal MC away from him, he can’t have any time alone with him ever! There’s always some stupid shenanigans that interrupt it—

MC left his phone.

It’s sitting innocuously on the couch, face down. Unguarded.

Vulnerable.

He shouldn’t. He won’t! That’s MC’s phone. Mammon may be a demon, but he’s a demon with standards. He will totally respect MC’s privacy. He’s not even tempted. Who cares about some human’s phone anyway?

...What if it’s unlocked?

“Oh screw it.”

The phone’s in his hand before the indent it left in the couch cushion can spring back in full. It is, in fact, unlocked, and open on the photos app for some reason. The photos are organized in time based folders. Mammon scrolls through the more recent ones, which consist mostly of pictures of the brothers, some with MC, some not — hey, when did MC take that picture of him?! — until he comes across a folder simply labelled “Pride”.

“Tch, they have a whole folder dedicated to Lucifer? Gross!” Mammon remarks as he opens it.

Jealous as he may not be of MC dedicating a folder to Lucifer instead of him anyone else, new pictures of Lucifer could sell for a pretty penny on the Devildom black market…

Oh. Oh. These are not photos of Lucifer.

Mammon’s not the most knowledgeable about the human world, but he knows a Pride parade when he sees one. It looks like MC had a really nice time, smiling and laughing with a group of people in brightly coloured clothes. The album ends with a wide shot of MC and his friends in a line doing various corny poses. Each one has a distinctly coloured flag draped across their shoulders like a cape. MC’s is a 5 striped design of bright blue, pink, and white bars. The wrinkles on the flag/cape suggest it was recently unpackaged.

Something about those colours pings at Mammon’s memory, and with a bit of effort it comes to him: when MC first came to the Devildom, his phone background involved those colours! Asmo had seen it and asked him about the colour choice, to which he’d responded with some blustering nonanswer and then promptly changed the background.

Did MC… think that any of them would judge him for being trans?

“Okay,” MC declares as he re-enters the room, “Asmo’s given up and is bleaching his hair, apparently magic demon pranks go way harder...than…”

Mammon freezes. The pair stare each other down for a few interminable seconds.

“...That’s my phone.”

“So it is…!”

“You saw the pictures, didn’t you.”

“Piiiiiiiicturrrrreessssss?” Mammon extends the word into several more syllables than is necessary. “What pictures?”

MC’s mouth does not say “Dude.” But the expression on his face very much conveys the sentiment nonetheless.

“Okay okay, I might have taken a little peek at your phone while you were gone. But it was just to make sure you didn’t leave it on! I locked it right away, I swear!”

“You’re still holding it.”

“Kuh-K-Keeping it warm! Cold phones lose battery faster!”

“...”

“Ugggggghhhhh okay! I looked a lot and saw everything! That what you wanna hear?!”

MC braces himself. “So…?”

“So what?”

“You don’t have any… questions?” he asks with a gesture towards himself.

“Uhhh, no?” Mammon pauses. “Oh wait, yeah, I have one.” Here we go. “ ‘MC’ and he/him pronouns are the right junk to call you by, yeah?”

MC blinks owlishly. “Yup— Uh, yeah, they are. Been that way for a while now… You really don’t—”

“MC,” Mammon says with a sharp toothed grin, “you really think humans are the only ones who get unsatisfied with what meat vessel or titles they’re assigned by the big man upstairs?”

Understanding bonks MC on the head with the same delicacy that Mammon carelessly tosses his phone back with. “Wait, r—”

“Let me show you how cool the Devildom trans flag is.”

#mrsketchydude #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me imagines #obey me trans mc #mine #my writing #mammon #happy pride month everyone #except where i live the parade is in august so it's more like pride summer #hot demon summer indeed lol #all the brothers are trans and/or nb bc i said so #but especially mammon #PS: i do not have a design for the devildom trans pride flag in mind #but if someone else does I Would Like To See It

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need-a-fugue · 3 years

Text

Trustworthy (Chapter Two)

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years teaming up with Santiago Garcia on every mission you had a hand in coordinating… and the past several months plotting with him to take down the biggest bad to hit your radar. But even all your time at the DEA and all your experience in the field couldn’t have prepared you for this.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Language... shitty language. And maybe sheer size? This one’s nearly 6,000 words... I may have gotten a little carried away. 😬

It began as a drunken joke, a flippant what if…

“If no one else is gonna do it,” you’d slurred out, voice barely above a whisper despite the cantina being utterly empty aside from the two of you, “we should take the motherfucker out ourselves.”

He’d laughed at the time, and promptly cut you off before insisting on walking you home. He helped you along the uneven streets of Leticia, held back your hair as you blew chunks into a dark alley, even slept on your couch that night just to make sure you didn’t die in your sleep. That’s what he told you, anyway. But you suspected that Santiago stuck around that night because he just couldn’t get your words out of his head.

You hadn’t been so drunk that you’d failed to notice the way he went eerily silent following your seemingly ludicrous suggestion. You hadn’t been so far gone that you’d missed the sudden glint to his eyes, nor the crooked smile that wrapped around his face as you said the words, “I want Lorea dead.”

That next morning, he brought it up casually, asking – before you even had the chance to brush your teeth – if you remembered what you’d said. When you told him you remembered every part, he simply told you to go on, nodding slowly along as you dove headfirst into a painfully impulsive proposal, your words still tinged with a lingering, drunken idealism. You spilled out the disparate thoughts you’d been harboring for months, if not longer – the ones that together formed little more than the ill-conceived beginnings of a damn stupid plan – only to discover that they were precisely in line with what he’d been contemplating as well.

By the end of the week, you were introducing him to your longtime informant, a woman who’d worked for Lorea in some capacity for years. A gorgeous woman, whom you’re almost entirely certain Santi fell into bed with later that same night. And after just a few months of nearly constant off-the-record investigating – both of you becoming utterly consumed by the thought of bringing Lorea down – that crazy, ridiculous, fucked-up joke you’d made had become a highly illegal, morally questionable, might-just-get-you-fired-and-thrown-into-a-federal-prison plot for ending the reign of one of the premier drug traffickers in South America.

You’d started it. There was no denying that. You’d started the whole damn thing.

For nearly three years, you fought the good fight with Santiago Garcia down in Colombia. He was one of just a handful of people there whom you trusted. He actually was one of just a handful of people there you even really knew.

If you ever got to chose an advisor to head up a mission, he’d be it. Any raid that fell within your purview, he’d help to organize. Intel was slow in coming, CIs dropping off, bosses telling you not to leave Leticia and to remember to stay in your lane? No problem. Garcia to the rescue.

He was able to operate largely independently – unlike poor, bound-by-the-rules-and-regulations-of-the-DEA you. Local cops and the surrounding military actually liked him and never balked at bringing him in, mostly because he was more than capable of playing along with their bullshit. Hell, he was so good at it, that for the first few months you knew him, he had you convinced that he either completely bought into the very obvious corruption surrounding that Amazonian paradise, or – if he really didn’t see it – he was dumber than a fucking box of rocks.

But Santiago Garcia never missed a damn thing. And while he might have seemed to have written off the actions of certain officials or the peculiarities you both encountered, he never ignored – nor forgot – the individuals he suspected of collusion. He was just smart enough to know when to act.

You, on the other hand, well, you never were very good at not calling people out. For all your life, if you saw something that seemed funky, you’d say something… immediately. If you ever suspected someone of lying, plotting, taking bribes, just plain being dirty, you’d raise an accusing finger high. Hell, that’s the main reason you got sent down to that southernmost point of the country, transferred away from what you saw as being the real goings-on, to simply help keep an eye on the drug runs taking place at the border.

Santiago taught you to quell your initial reactions of raising a stink when you believed something was amiss. He urged you to stop seeing the word in a never-ending list of black and white rules. He showed you how to keep from boiling over and calling people out, a thing that undoubtably kept you from getting yourself reassigned somewhere you’d be less of a nuisance… again.

He also fed you intel, shared specifics of his suspicions, and helped get you into military-run raids where DEA might otherwise have been shut out. And in the time in between – when you would normally just stalk around your small apartment all alone or perhaps stalk about the city… also all alone – he provided friendship, that not-so-tiny thing you’d been lacking ever since getting transferred from your post and away from the workmates and friends you’d had for years in Mexico.

He was fun and sharp-witted and outgoing, eager to make friends with just about anyone. He invited you out for drinks, dancing, into local card games. And though you often wondered why – did he feel sorry for you because the local police and military alike treated you like a damn leper? Was he trying to show others that you were alright, despite being a gringa DEA agent? Did he simply want to fuck you? – you’d be lying if you were to say that you didn’t feel damn lucky he’d stumbled into your life and forced his friendship upon you.

And how did you repay him? For all of the invites he’d extended, all the drinks purchased, all the intel he threw your way, all the military-run raids he somehow managed to get you in on? All of the trust and faith he invested in you?

You’d set him on a path to ruin.

000

The bar was much larger than you’d anticipated, the quick drive-by you did on your way to the motel earlier this afternoon making the freestanding structure – out in the middle of nowhere, like everything else in this Bumblefuck, USA town – appear small. Maybe it was because the massive parking lot dwarfed it. Maybe it was because you were only half awake, at best, and just didn’t notice the size of the place. Maybe it was because Santiago drove past it at 65 miles per hour, alerting you to it – that’s where we’ll meet up tonight – just as you flew by, allowing little more than a meager glimpse.

Regardless, you expected… less.

But the place is huge. There are two bars on either side of the sprawling building and tables flanking the wide-open center, which you could only imagine would at some point be flooded with drunken townies, eager to dance the night away.

When you first arrived – well over an hour ago – it had been just you and a handful of incredibly loud bros populating the place. You took off for the far bar, ordered yourself a drink, and slinked into a large table in a dark corner, eager to remain invisible until Santi arrived with his friends… his crack team. But – just as you’d come to expect from Garcia – he was nearly an hour late, and by the time he and his brothers-in-arms strolled in, you’d already been spotted by the douchebags at the bar and had to fight off the advances of two separate assholes, each of whom only approached you when making their way back from the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, bonita,” Santiago had proclaimed with a wide smile and a not-at-all-stifled laugh after you told him of your troubles. He turned to face the group of strangers at the bar, caught the glares of a few of them, and shouted over a simple dictate to, “Fuck off!”

And that had been the cap to your introduction to your new co-workers. They strode in, all smiles and laughter and blooming drunken glows, coming from what must have been a great fight night, undoubtably made all the better by being together once again, only to be forced to shake hands with you… a jetlagged stranger, washed out in the low light, obviously frazzled by having a guy fresh from the men’s room – who probably didn’t even bother to wash his hands – wrap an arm around your shoulder and tell you that the bathroom door locks… in case you wanted to check it out with him later.

They took your uncomfortable story in stride, exchanging pleasantries and apologizing again for their tardiness – well, Will apologized at least – before grabbing some drinks and then plopping down at the isolated table you’d chosen.

For a bit, the group of them just talk to one another, tying up loose ends to the conversations they’d been having before arriving. You catch snippets of nah, man, she’s gone… didn’t work out and do you have any idea how expensive kids’ soccer is? as their conversation flows around you, seemingly oblivious to your existence. For those first ten minutes or so – save Santiago’s paltry threat shouted across the bar and Benny’s rather flirtatious introduction – the whole team settles in around you and acts as though you aren’t even here at all.

The only exception during this time is the pilot, Frankie Morales – had Santi called him Fish? He keeps quiet as the others speak, cracking a smile at their comments every now and then, but mostly nursing his beer and awkwardly picking at the label in silence. Every so often, he steals a glance over at you, as if to say, yeah, I know you’re here. His eyes are warm and friendly despite the otherwise utterly unreadable expression planted on his face.

Maybe you’re simply intrigued by the fact that he’s the only one actively acknowledging your presence, or it could be that you’re just rather curious to figure out what his placid expression is hiding. Or perhaps you’re merely a fan of the subtle beauty that his sharp profile paints on the background of the dark, seedy bar. Whatever the reason, you find yourself not just staring but gazing at the man long after he looks away.

“So, shoot me straight,” Will says suddenly, nudging your shoulder and tearing into your thoughts as he turns to face you. Your eyes bounce wildly away from Frankie’s face, a heat creeping up your neck as you light on the patient smile of the man next to you. “That file… it’s your work, right?”

“Hey,” Santiago scoffs from across the table, leaning over to backhand his friend in the chest. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Will’s face cracks and a deep rumble of a laugh spills out of him as he bites out, “It’s good work. Too good to come from your sorry ass.”

Santi scoffs, his hand flying to his heart with a wounded quality. You simply shrug, small smirk perking your lips as you feel some of the initial tension of the gathering – and the strange concern that you might actually have somehow become invisible – finally start to lift. “He helped,” you say, tone coy.

“Oh, c’mon,” Santiago gripes, giving you a slightly irritated, definitely amused look. “Half that intel came from me. The PNC, Colombian military, they barely even acknowledge you’re there.”

You interrupt with a snort and a scathing, “Yeah… it’s really fucking annoying when people do that,” before choking down the rest of your beer.

If he understands the jibe about your current situation, he doesn’t let on, instead pushing his point that, “None of them would’ve given you jack shit.”

“And the one informant who actually got all this started?” you counter, accusing brow raised high. “Who’s informant was that?”

His face begins to blush, just a bit of redness seeping into his cheeks, as he reaches out to grab your empty bottle. “She was mine in the end,” he mutters, shoving back from the table and rising from his stool. “I’ll get the next round.”

“Yeah,” you call out after him. “You owe me more than just a beer for stealing my CI!”

“I’ll get you a shot too!” he throws over his shoulder, never looking back as he makes his way to the bar.

You turn back to the men surrounding you, each of them now eyeing you warily, and a part of you wants to go back to when they ignored your presence entirely. Tom – what did Santiago call him? Redfly? – is the first to break the awkward silence, ticking his chin in your direction. “So,” he starts before pulling a long breath in through his nose. “DEA.” He overenunciates each letter and states rather than questions your affiliation, despite there being an inquisitive – or is it accusing? – glint to his eye.

“Yeah,” you say with a lingering nod. “Yep. DEA.”

“They teach you about this kind of thing?” Will asks, his drawl deep and languid. You turn to look at him, the imposing man by your side, and feel your shoulders tighten all over again when you see that the stern expression he had worn when first shaking your hand has returned. But then something lightens, the corner of his mouth ticking up just a bit, his gaze softening as your eyes meet. You’re certain that he can sense the rise in tension, understands with just a glimpse of your face that you’re way out of your element here. Intimidated. Nervous. And while the softening of his countenance doesn’t wipe away your anxiety completely, you do at least appreciate the attempt.

Ben, the tall, younger man flanking your other side, must notice the unease building up inside you too. He leans in and bops you with his shoulder, a light, buoyant laugh bursting out of him. “Aw, hell,” he emits breathily. “Leave her alone. If Pope trusts her, she’s got to be good.”

“Not saying she’s not good,” Will intones, shooting you a quick wink that, oddly, really does manage to set you at ease. “Just wondering how much experience she has with ops like this.” His eyes start to sparkle as they lock onto yours once again. “So, sweetheart, you ever pull a recon mission deep in the jungle?”

You offer an evasive shrug and release a tightly held breath. “I got lost in a corn maze once. Had to find my way out on my own. Probably would’ve starved in there if I hadn’t had the presence of mind to bring a funnel cake in with me.”

On your left, Ben snorts out another laugh, and across the table you see Frankie try to maintain that straight, impassive face. But Will’s deadpan expression doesn’t shift in the least. “Well,” he says with a sigh, bringing his nearly empty beer bottle up to his lips. “I guess that is pretty damn close.”

“Ha, ha,” Tom mocks. He waits to go on until you look his way, and once you do he levels you with what can only be described as a fatherly stare – oddly disappointed and imploring, stern and warm all at the same time. “We’re all very glad to hear that you have a sense of humor.”

“Very glad,” Ben interjects with a wide grin.

“But,” he continues, “You’re not gonna go in there and be part of this unless you can convince us that you’re capable.”

Santiago’s voice cuts in then, sounding over the clink of beer bottles as he lays out the next round on the table. “She’s capable,” he states simply before sliding back into his seat next to Frankie. “We’ve been on…” he glances over at you, “how many raids now?”

“At least a dozen,” you answer.

He gives a firm nod and lets his eyes drift between the men at the table. “She’s done good every time. Stays outta the way, does what she’s told.”

Your brow wrinkles and tugs tightly together, deep frown taking over your face. “Jesus, Garcia. I’m not a fucking dog.” He gives a quick laugh, but says nothing, prompting you to defend yourself. “I’ve worked with military advisors for years. Most of my career has been spent working alongside foreign armies and police forces. I’m not just some kind of desk jockey, I promise you that.”

“This is different.” The words flow across the table, the deep rumble sliding just beneath the reverberating bass coming from the jukebox in the corner. You look up and lock onto Frankie’s eyes, note immediately the hesitancy building behind them. He raises his brows as he looks at you, almost into you, and says simply, “This isn’t a raid. This isn’t some amateur hour bullshit put on by the local cops. And you won’t have the military or CNP or the US government at your back if something goes wrong.”

You nod, wanting – for some inexplicable reason – to pull your gaze from him, but finding that you just can’t. “I know. I get that.”

“Do you?”

Santiago gives his friend a little shove, just enough to cause him to look his way, breaking the odd hold he has over you. “She’s a good shot,” he tells him, tells all of them. “And she’s done enough undercover work for me to know that she sure as shit can keep her head.” He looks over at you again – “I still don’t know how you managed to get out of that shit in the comuna last year.” – and then gives a wry little laugh as his head shakes absently.

“Alright,” Tom mutters just as he slams down an empty bottle and reaches over to grab a new one. “She follows orders and keeps her cool… at least we can work with that.”

Benny nudges you with his elbow and when you look up at him you’re met with the widest, sunniest of smiles – never mind the deep split in his lip from the fight that he claims to have won just a few hours prior. “Hear that? That’s just about the best kind of approval you’ll ever get from Redfly.”

“Approval?” Tom shoots across the table. His voice drops an octave as he aims a serious stare over at you. “I’m still not convinced that we can actually trust you.”

“Jesus,” Santi breathes out with an annoyed air. “You really think I’d bring her here… hell, you think I’d have put all this together with her if I didn’t think – know – that she can be trusted?”

He shrugs. “You haven’t really known her that long,” he mutters thickly, his expression slipping back into something wary as he folds his arms across his broad chest and falls into a speculative silence as he mulls over his friend’s words.

You watch him closely, trying to discern what exactly he’s thinking. But long before you’re able to draw any sort of conclusion, Benny bumps you with his shoulder again and says simply, “Don’t worry about it, darlin’. He’s onboard.”

There’s a part of you that balks at the darlin’, just as you had almost called Will out on his use of sweetheart. But the truth is – both times – the names are uttered with a casual, even reassuring, cadence that you’re certain holds no demeaning intent. And you’ve been in enough male-dominated circles over the years to be able to discern at least that much. Even the way Ben’s looking at you now – genuine grin and kind eyes – seems to hold no innuendo. So you let it slide.

“How long did it take him to trust you?” you ask, the tension in your shoulders lifting when a throaty chuckle bubbles out of him.

“Oh, I don’t know that he does. I don’t know if Tom really trusts anyone.”

A snort of a laugh rings from the other end of the table, surprisingly coming from the Doubting Thomas himself. “You’re so full of shit,” he mumbles as he sits back upright and grabs his beer. He takes a giant swig and tacks on for good measure, “Besides, nothing wrong with being… cautious. My being – ”

“A distrustful prick,” Santiago interjects brazenly.

“Whatever you want to call it,” he counters with a faux-saccharine lilt. “It’s saved all your asses more than a time or two. Hasn’t it?”

There’s a quick round of almost wistful snickers from nearly all the men, each seeming to light onto a particular memory, their gazes faltering and ticking briefly off towards nothing. The exception is Frankie, who simply stares down at the battered beer bottle in front of him, sticker half peeled off and clinging to his fingernails as he continues to work at it with a frown. “What about this informant of yours,” he says, low voice slicing into the newfound silence. He shifts nervous eyes over to the man at his right. “You’re sure she can be trusted?”

Without hesitation, Santiago nods. “I’m sure of it. And besides, we’re not basing all of this just on her word. You read the file, right?” He glances over at you and ticks his chin in your direction. “We checked it out. We’ve been out there enough to get a lay of the land. We’ve seen the deliveries of cash coming in… and not going back out.”

Will speaks next, his words soft and slow. “Could all be a setup… a giant, well-planned setup.”

You shake your head. “No. No, it’s legit.” Five sets of eyes turn to you, drilling into you for something more substantial. But the truth is, all that you have is in that file. And, yeah, it could be an elaborate setup. Or – more likely than that – just a really, really bad idea. But your gut says it’s neither. Your gut says that this whole damn thing is the only way to put an end to Lorea’s ever-growing cartel.

Tom’s eyes narrow at you once again, suspicion still lingering in his glare. “How’d this all happen, huh? How’d you even get involved with this… this shit-brain scheme?” he asks before the serious countenance begins to crack and he blows out a harsh chuckle. “How’d Pope sucker you into all this?”

Santiago answers before you get a chance to even open your mouth. “I didn’t sucker anybody into anything. And I don’t use the same callsign down there, so…”

Your eyes flash over to meet his, face splitting into an insolent grin. “Pope…” you mutter, popping the p at the end. “How exactly did you get that name, anyway?”

He rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to know.”

“He spent his first firefight hailing Mary through the coms,” Will chimes in with a teasing lilt. “All damn night.”

“I was nineteen.” He defends… almost whines. “You wanna tell her how you got Ironhead?”

He shrugs and takes another pull of his beer. “I’m not embarrassed.”

Frankie smirks from the other side of the table as he issues out under his breath, “You should be.”

Your eyes bounce eagerly back and forth between the men, silently pleading for someone to tell you the story of Will’s ridiculous moniker. But it seems that you’ve once again gone invisible.

“Hey, he held that record for a solid decade,” Benny mutters beside you. “And I’m pretty sure that dipshit, MacCovey, cheated to take the title.”

“How can you cheat at that?” Frankie asks with an incredulous laugh.

“He cheated.”

“Cheated at what?” you blurt out, eager to just hear the tale. “Ironhead’s a title? With a record? For what?”

Will pivots in his seat, flashing you a smug grin as he rather haughtily announces, “Record for the most concussions sustained during basic training. And no one can take Ironhead away from me… especially not some hardheaded kid from freaking New York.”

“How do you know he was from New York?” Santi asks.

Frankie cocks his head at his friend too. “You met him?”

“Didn’t he die?” Tom interjects, confusion suddenly weaving through the lot of them.

“Did he?” Will asks. “Shit, guess he wasn’t that hardheaded after all.”

Benny leans forward to address them all. “He didn’t die. Just lost a leg. Roadside bomb.”

“Shit,” his brother repeats solemnly.

“Was supposed to be his last tour too. Well, guess it still was.” He looks down for a somber beat before lighting on Frankie. “And I heard that he never actually hit his head when he fell off that tower, so… cheated.”

Throughout all of the back and forth, you just sit, eyes wide, expression both amused and deeply concerned. “Jesus,” you finally breathe out once everyone falls quite. You turn to Will, look a little closer at him as though you might be able to discern some of the damage done so many years ago. “Are you… okay?”

He lets out a hearty laugh and raps his knuckles on his skull. “Nothing to worry about here,” he tells you with a wide smile. “Ironhead, remember?”

Tom snorts and shakes his head skeptically. “Tune’ll change when that CTE shit kicks in… start wandering around the neighborhood, talking to yourself, picking fights with people in grocery stores.” He stops short and flashes a shit-eating grin. “Oh wait…”

The joke – if there even really is one – is lost on you. But Will must get it, because his face flashes in irritation, a mere, “Very funny,” falling from his lips as he brings his beer bottle up to meet them.

You let out a sigh – “I’m confused.” – and choose to ignore Tom in favor of getting more of the story from Ironhead himself. “Did you get concussions on purpose? Why does this seem to be some kind of source of pride?”

“It wasn’t on purpose…”

“What about that full can of soup you tried to crush on your head?” Frankie interjects with a raised brow.

“Yeah, alright, there was that one,” he concedes.

Your forehead furrows deeper. “If you were always getting hurt, why didn’t they call you something like, Falls-a-Lot or Unlucky Charms or just Blockhead?”

He stares at you for a long moment, face hardening into a stoic set. “Wasn’t Tom asking how you got yourself into all this? Wasn’t that what we were talking about?”

You offer a nonchalant shrug. “Don’t think we were really talking about it…”

“She basically started it,” Santiago states simply. “I mean, I was in the minute she brought it up, completely in. But it was her shit-brained scheme from the get-go.”

“Really?” Tom smarts, skeptical look once again riding his face as he takes a pull from his beer.

“Look,” you begin, tone painfully sincere, “I’ve been on the losing end of this battle for years. And the people down there, the families… the kids he recruits…” You stop for a beat and slowly, bitterly shake your head. “Lorea, and all the others like him… It’s their turn to lose.”

Tom nods, his gaze never breaking from yours. “You do realize you sound just like him,” he mutters, ticking his chin towards Santi. “Seriously,” he begins, stare serious, but tone glib. “Did you two hatch this crazy little plan together in bed?”

You glance over at Garcia, quickly taking note of the burning blush creeping up his neck as he hides beneath his baseball cap and tries not to laugh. Then, on their way back to Tom, your eyes light on Frankie. He too is ducking his head. But he doesn’t seem to be laughing like the others. Rather, from what you can make out beneath the shadow of his hat, he looks… embarrassed. No. Dejected.

Your heart skips a beat and you blurt out suddenly, “We’re not sleeping together,” a little too loudly to come across as anything other than agonizingly defensive. The laughter intensifies and you clear your throat before going on to say, “Garcia’s usually too busy fucking his informants to ever even think of giving me the time of day.”

Benny just about loses it, his body pulsating with fits of giggles as he leans back a bit and reaches out to give you a high five. You oblige, a small, crooked smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as you see Santiago shift across from you. He peers at you from beneath the ballcap, eyes dark and smile wide as he says, voice deep and honeyed, “Oh, bonita, trust me, I’ve thought about it.”

You roll your eyes and tip back the nearly empty bottle to your lips, draining the last dregs of your beer before rising and stating, “I’ll get the next round… as long you guys promise to do nothing but regale me with embarrassing stories about Pope for the rest of the night.”

000

Jetlag. It’s something you’ve experienced countless times over the years, hopping from place to place, office to outpost to field. And yet you’ve never really managed to get used to it, the bone-deep fatigue kicking your ass after each and every trip you’ve ever taken. A full day of travel, and now a full night of drinking, and by the time the lot of you stumble out of the bar, you’re barely able to put one foot in front of the other.

“Lightweight, huh?” Benny jokes as he pushes past you on the way to his car.

You grumble under your breath, something akin to, shut the fuck up, though your words aren’t all that put together right now either. But Ben doesn’t hear any of it anyway, he’s already giving his brother an unforgiving shove in the nearly empty parking lot and laughing maniacally as he dodges the lazy retaliatory punch.

“Don’t mind him,” Frankie mutters from behind you. You stop and turn, squinting through the harsh halogen light piercing your eyes as you look up at him. He notices the pained grimace you give and lets out a light chuckle as he takes your elbow and swings you back around to lead you to the car. “You seem more tired than drunk to me,” he says with a lilt as he easily slips his arm beneath yours for a little extra support.

Without thinking, you let your head tip to the side and rest on his shoulder. “Soooo tired,” you bemoan. A deep rumble of a laugh pulls from Frankie’s chest, reverberates up and through his entire body so that you feel it vibrate into you. It makes you smile. It makes you tuck yourself in a little closer. You stumble a bit, your toe catching on a crack in the pavement, and before you can even think to right yourself, his arm pulls away and reaches around, the warmth of his hand splaying across your hip as he steadies you. “Maybe a little drunk too,” you admit with a sigh.

If he thinks it’s odd that you’ve burrowed so close to him, or if he’s the least bit uncomfortable with your fingers now clinging to the back of his shirt, or if he’s irritated at having to slow to a crawl to help you to Santiago’s car, he doesn’t show it. Instead he easily slows his pace to match yours, giving your hip a little squeeze as he says, “Hey, sorry about earlier.”

Your shuffling stops as you pull back to look up at him with a confused frown. “You mean telling that story about Santiago’s ex? I don’t think I’m the one… to apologize…” Your brow furrows even deeper as you try to sift through what you just said, trying to determine if it makes any sense.

He lets out another low laugh, the sound quickly becoming a new favorite tune. “No. I mean about…” He hesitates for a moment, the smile slowly melting from his face. “When I was… questioning you. Whether or not you’re up for this. And, you know, whether or not you’re getting played.”

“Oh,” you bark out, far louder than intended. “Yeah, no.” You wave it off and waste no time at all – fatigue and alcohol both wiping away any embarrassment you might otherwise feel at plastering yourself up against a near stranger – falling back into him.

He chuckles again as he hikes you a bit higher and leads you over to the tiny blue rental car in the corner of the lot. “It’s just… I know you put a lot of work into gathering the intel. And I know this is… important to you. Or you wouldn’t be here. But still…”

You turn your face into his shoulder, his chest, unabashedly breathing in the musky scent from the collar of his jacket as you mumble into him, “I promise not to fuck it up. At least not too bad.”

“Hey!” Garcia calls out from the car, swinging the back door open as you two approach. “You getting handsy with my girl?”

Frankie snorts out a laugh, incredulous, almost sardonic, and not nearly as endearing as the ones that have been rumbling into you for the last however many glorious minutes it’s been. “Not your girl,” you mutter blandly. “Too risky… too many possible diseases.”

“Hilarious,” he deadpans, standing back as Frankie helps you into the car, his palm pressing gently on the back of your head to make sure you duck inside safely. “She took like five Xanax on the flight in,” he tells his friend with a snicker. “Probably shouldn’t have let her drink so much on top of that.”

“Hate flying,” you breathe out as you settle back, harshly tugging at the seatbelt to your left.

Frankie shakes his head in amusement as he watches you grow increasingly frustrated with the non-cooperative seatbelt. “How can you hate flying?” he asks, crooked smile stretching across his face.

You stop the infernal struggle and collapse back into the seat, “Fucking hate it,” coming out of you in a petulant whine.

“Alright,” he murmurs amid a snicker as he leans into the car, easily tugging the seatbelt out and reaching around to buckle you in. Your eyes droop further, slipping closed as he pulls back out of the car, fading into the night. “You guys good?” you hear him ask, the deep tenor of his voice sounding even more melodic when penetrating the dark.

“Yeah,” Santiago tells him, fatigue drowning just that single word. “We’re over at the Motor Inn. Just a few miles up. Listen, Frankie… thanks for this. Really. This…” You almost open your eyes again, want to just to see if the expression on Garcia’s face matches the earnestness in his tone. “This isn’t just a standard op, you know. To me. To her. This is… just… thanks.”

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “Well, uh… I’ll see you Thursday.”

The only other sounds you hear before slipping away entirely are the door gently closing beside you, the engine starting up in a soft roar, and Santiago muttering, seemingly to himself from the front seat, “I am not carrying your ass to bed.”

Taglist:

@tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @icanbeyourjedi @greeneyedblondie44

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia #will ironhead miller #benny miller

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thirdhandidiot · 3 years

Text

HELLO LGBTs

DONT YOU THINK ITS TIME FOR A REVOLUTION?

NONE OF THE OBEY ME CHARACTERS ARE CIS BECAUSE I SAID SO, ITS TIME WE START PROJECTING ONTO THEM

•i want to see non binary Satan who couldn’t understand why talking to people was making them angry and started lashing out for seemingly no reason, having to go to Lucifer in a fit of angry tears, desperate for help because it hurts so much, why does it hurt?

•I want to see Beel, who passed so easily, worried his twin would grow to despise him because he never had the same ease transitioning socially, getting called the girly one of the two, always being smaller, weaker next to Beel, and Beel hates it so much, he feels guilty

•I want to see Miku Binder Levi projecting onto fictional characters to avoid thinking about his own problems, wearing baggy clothes and locking himself away, jealous of the other brothers, scared of rejection

•I want gender fluid Asmo, proud of their ability to seemlessly shift between presentations, calling mammon in tears, begging him to come pick her up from this guys house because he’s yelling slurs at asmo, who is sobbing please don’t call me that and they won’t stop

•I want to see the great mammon, who is so confident one day, but the next can’t stand the sight of his body, especially when he shifts and you can see his scars, barley hidden by his jacket, who always feels like his screams are just a little bit too high pitched

•Lucifer, so proud, hurt by memories of before, presenting hyper masc at times, afraid to show any emotions because even though he knows it’s not true, he can’t help but think people will see his as more feminine, and he can’t do that, not again

•I want Belphie, who pretends it doesn’t bother them. ‘Why should I care what some lesser demon thinks of me?’ but is kept awake at night, when everyone else is asleep, no one to help as they spiral in insecurities, their voice echoing in their head, the cruel words twisting, stabbing–

•Lord diavolo, whose parents had been so relieved because ‘that means you can be king– we were so disappointed when you were born female’ and it never sat right with him, even though he’d been lucky enough to transition young

•Maybe even Luke, who only Simeon knows is trans, getting upset when he’s called chihuahua because my voice isn’t that high, is it? But determined to stay closeted and so never being able to tell them why they should stop, and he’s not that small, he’s an average height for boys his age he’s checked, so many times

–But I also want to see sleepovers between the brothers (they agreed it was simpler to keep calling themselves that and that it was better than letting Mammon or Levi pick a new name) where they, just for one night, put aside the bickering and tormenting eachother just to make sure the others are ok, because they all know that they’re struggling in their own ways, and for one night they all sleep in the living room, eating food, watching comfort movies and following whatever self care routine it is that asmo is on currently, everyone gets a face mask, no you can’t opt out lucifer, you’re working too hard again, you’ll get wrinkles and that just won’t do, let us take care of you– and Levi! When was the last time you washed your hair?! That won’t do, come with me, let me do it for you I have these amazing bath salts I just know you’ll love

–I want Diavolo, helping them all transition as quickly and as secretively as possible after he finds out. He wants to be there for them, ever since that night lucifer came out to him, sobbing, pride forgotten because he doesn’t want to be that person anymore. He can’t, he spent too long living that lie for his father, he just wants to be free. Simeon telling him he’s changed and being so proud of him, you look so much more relaxed. Diavolo being so happy to know that lucifer is happier because he struggles to talk about it because Lucifer still believes he‘s wrong or broken in someway, pride too much to overcome, but when it’s just him and diavolo, sometimes he can talk about it, lift a weight off his chest

–I want to see them big eachother up in the way that only siblings can, oi that jacket looks good on ya, can I steal it? I’m gonna get junk food because I deserve it, what do you want? I want them to support eachother on bad days, just silently making them tea when they’ve started into space just a little too long, ruffling their hair on the way out. I want a deal between them to let the others know if something is showing in public, whilst in the house being comfortable enough and trusting eachother enough not to judge because really, they’re all in the same boat here

I can’t be the only one here guys. C’mon. Let make this happen. Tag me. ANYTHING YOU POST I want to see it, I want to see your vent art, I want to hurt with you as you project your troubles, just so that your not alone. @7fckingidiots made a Post Abt the Brothers amd it was my final snapping point, Ive got so many little sketches of Satan, they’ve become my muse for any practice drawings, amd I wanted to say something before but yea, check out their post guys I’ll try Link it. But I mean it, tag me, I want to reblog everything you do, make our own supportive family

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noladyme · 3 years

Text

La Cuervo - Chapter 11

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

Nina was seated at the table in Felipe’s small kitchen, having been brought there by EZ a few hours earlier. The sun was setting outside, and she was looking at the orange sky, becoming red, and then dark blue.

“You haven’t touched your food…”.

“Huh?”. She was deep in thought, and almost knocked her glass of lemonade over, when Felipe spoke. Managing to stop it from falling, she took a sip. “Sorry”.

Felipe got up, and walked over to the fridge, grabbing a can of beer. He opened it, and set it down in front of her.

“Looks like you need this”, he smiled. Nina took a welcome sip of the beer, and smiled at Felipe.

“Thanks…”.

She went back to poking at her food. It smelled delicious, and she forced herself to take a bite.

“EZ wouldn’t tell me what’s going on, but I’m guessing it’s not good”, Felipe said. Nina tentatively met his eyes. “Are you in trouble?”.

“I’m… I don’t know”, she replied.

“Pregnant?”.

Nina’s eyes widened.

“What? Fuck no!”. She took a big gulp of the beer. “Sorry…”, she added, embarrassed at using profanities in front of the man.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked”, Felipe said, looking down at his hands.

There was a long moment of silence.

“You seem almost disappointed at my answer”, Nina muttered. Felipe blew out a short laugh.

“Maybe it would get my son to settle down… And you’re not the worst choice of nuera…”.

“I don’t think we’re quite there yet”, Nina replied. Felipe shrugged.

“I don’t know… I saw how Angel looked at you yesterday. He cares about you”.

“Yeah…”, Nina breathed. She knew Angel cared; but she knew how the life was. His club came first, and she was quite sure that same club was getting ready to ship her back home to Charming.

EZ stepped into the kitchen with his phone in hand.

“They finished at the table. Angel’s on his way”. Felipe got up to get a plate from one of the cabinets; obviously aware of the state of the fridge in his eldest son’s house. EZ placed a gentle hand on Nina’s shoulder. “Are you ok?”.

“I guess I don’t know yet”, she said. “Do you think they’ll make me leave?”, she added, almost in a whisper.

EZ didn’t reply, seemingly unsure what to answer. He sighed, and went to grab a beer for himself.

Unable to stomach even a bite more of the food, Nina pushed away her plate.

“Do you mind if I smoke?”, she asked Felipe.

“Yeah, he doesn’t…”, EZ began, but stopped when Felipe placed an ashtray in front of her.

“Go ahead”, the elder Reyes said with a soft smile. EZ looked confusedly between the two, but ultimately shook his head, and settled in a chair.

Nina took deep draws of her cigarette, and stared straight ahead of her. If the Mayans wanted her gone, she still had a home in Charming; but as it was, the thought of leaving was extremely painful. Whatever Angel and she had, was something real and beyond what she’d felt for any other person. She didn’t want to go, but at the same time the thought of Angel backing the MC in the decision made her think it might be for the best.

She wiped away a stray tear, and Felipe handed her a napkin.

“Like I said, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I think it requires something stronger than beer”, he said, and moved into the living room.

“Oh no. Pap is bringing out the mezcal”, EZ said.

“Why oh no?”, Nina asked.

“If you thought the Ferris wheel story was bad…”. EZ looked terrified. Nina finally let a smile reach her lips.

“Can’t wait”, she said.

A short while later, they were on their third shot of mezcal and laughing, when Angel walked into the kitchen. He took one look at Nina’s cigarette and the liquor, and frowned in confusion.

“Is this a party?”, he asked. Felipe got up and gave his son a half hug.

“Let me get your plate”, he said.

“Sorry, pap. We gotta go”, Angel replied. The mezcal had gone a bit to Nina’s head, and she scowled at the biker.

“Sit your ass down and eat your father’s cooking. Taking me back to Charming can wait 20 minutes”, she grumbled.

Angel looked at her confusedly, and took the plate Felipe handed him, before pulling up a chair to the small table. EZ poured him a shot.

Felipe sat down again.

“Where was I…? Oh, right. So, we’d let Angel be in charge of filling the piñata for EZ’s birthday, but he’d gone into the wrong section of the drug-store…”. Angel groaned.

“Nah… Not this, pap. Please…”, he pleaded.

“You think I want to hear this story again?”, EZ said. Felipe waved their objections away with a dismissive gesture, and continued.

“He picked the most colorfully wrapped things he could find, and filled it before Marisol and I could see what he’d gotten. I got this, pap; he insisted… Come the party, Ezekiel is banging away at the poor piñata, and breaks it open…”. He halted to laugh to himself for a moment. “And a shower of condoms rains over him”. Nina had to hold her belly from laughing.

“I thought it was candy!”, Angel exclaimed.

“Sure you did”, EZ said disbelievingly.

“I was 12…”, Angel said. Felipe chuckled at his sons bantering.

Angel downed his shot, and began shoveling food into his mouth, while Felipe and EZ went to do the dishes. Felipe resolutely declined Nina’s help, and poured her another drink to keep her seated.

While the eldest and the youngest Reyes got on with getting the kitchen back in order, Angel finished his meal; his eyes on Nina the whole time. She did her best to avoid meeting his gaze, once again feeling the pain of their impending goodbye. He handed his plate to EZ, and got up; reaching out his hand to her.

“Let’s go…”, he said. She took it, and sighed deeply.

Felipe wiped his hands, and came over to her, pulling her in to a tight hug.

“Take care, mija”, he said, and kissed her cheek. He patted Angel’s shoulder, and Angel nodded at EZ, before he led Nina out of the house, towards his bike in the driveway.

“I just need my stuff at your place”, she rasped.

“Why?”, Angel asked.

“Because I’m not going back north without my shit”, she hissed.

Angel frowned at her, once again sporting the deep furrow between his eyebrows.

“Nina…”.

She let out a flustered groan and stomped over to the bike.

“Let’s go!”, she said. When Angel didn’t move, she walked back towards him, and pulled at his cut. “Take me the fuck back to SAMCRO. Let’s get this over with!”.

“You’re drunk, cuervo”, he sighed.

“Yeah… So?”, Nina said.

“Ma’, the only place you’re going is home to sleep it off”, Angel said calmly.

“Yeah, like I said. Take me back to Charming”.

“No. Back home to mine”. Nina tilted her head confusedly. He grabbed her arm and led her over to the bike. “Can you ride?”.

“Yeah…?”, she muttered. “But…”.

“Not here”. He grabbed her helmet from EZ’s bike, and put it on her head, snapping it shut under her chin, before getting on the bike. Nina simply stood, open mouthed and wide-eyed. “Come on! Jesus… Look, I’m not taking you back north; but we do have something we need to talk about. When you’re sober”.

Nina clambered on behind him, and Angel drove them off into the night.

---

The smell of coffee woke her up. She opened her eyes and saw Angel setting down a mug on the bedside table, next to a glass of water and a bottle of Advil. He was topless and sweating, and it looked like he’d been working out. Turning her head, she found she was right in thinking so, when she saw that his barbells had been moved around.

“How’s the head, cuervo?”, he muttered, and sat down on the edge of the bed. He pushed a lock of hair out of her face, and stroked her cheek.

“Fine…”, she lied. Angel took two pills from the bottle, and held them out to her.

“Here…”. Nina frowned and shook her head. Angel scowled at her, and straddled her waist; sitting over her hips. He picked up the glass, and held the pills to her lips. “Open… Don’t make me hold your nose, little miss lightweight”. Nina sighed, and held out her tongue to accept the pills, before taking the glass, and chugging it.

“Happy?”, she grunted.

Angel took the glass, set it back on the table, and kissed her forehead.

“Good girl. Now are you gonna tell me what that was about last night?”.

Nina shifted underneath him.

“Are you going to get off me? Maybe put on a shirt?”.

“Nah. It’s easier to talk to you like this. It makes you less smart”, Angel grinned, and flexed his pectorals.

“Yeah. Your sexy body makes me stupid…”, Nina scoffed, and pushed at his chest; trying her best not to show how stupid she was in fact feeling. “I gotta pee”.

Angel got off her, and let her get out of the bed. She walked into the bathroom without looking at him.

While she was washing her hands, she noticed Angel had set up her toothbrush next to his own. An overwhelming sensation of warm joy and ice-cold embarrassment washed over her. She picked up the toothbrush, and stormed out of the bathroom; straight into the arms of Angel, who’d been waiting for her by the door. She threw her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his chest.

“I’m sorry”, she whispered.

“For what?”, he chuckled.

“For being an idiot… and drunk… and throwing up in the bushes before we made it inside last night”.

Angel laughed, his chest rumbling against her ear.

“Yeah, that was a different kind of fertilizer than I usually use”.

Nina tilted her face to look at him.

“I thought you were… that the club would vote to send me away”. Angel grinned and stroked her temple.

“You think I’d let them do that? Fuck no. You’re mine, and you belong here”. Nina smiled, and went to kiss him, when Angel pulled back, grabbed the hand she was holding the toothbrush in, and held it in front of her. “Your breath stinks, ma’. Use this, and then I’ll kiss you all you want”.

She almost ran into the bathroom, and thoroughly brushed her teeth, before putting the toothbrush back next to Angel’s. Once back in the bedroom, Angel smilingly pulled her into his arms, and kissed her greedily. They were all tongues and groping hands, when suddenly he pulled back, and looked somber.

“We need to talk”, he said. Nina sighed.

“I have a feeling I‘m gonna need that coffee now”.

Angel put on a beater, grabbed her mug for her, and led her into the living room to sit on the couch.

“There’s a snitch in the clubhouse…”, he began.

In spite of not being surprised, Nina let out an exasperated sigh.

“Do you know who it is?”, she asked. Angel nodded.

“We think it’s Daniella. You saw how she was all over Sala at the party. She was there when they were talking about the inhaler, and EZ told Bish that she saw you use it in the trailer. Then Creeper had Camille in there…”.

“So it was my fault…”, Nina croaked. Angel grabbed her hand.

“No, Nina. That’s not on you”. He kissed her knuckles. “But we need to find out how deep in with them she is. What she’s been telling them. You know I can't tell you too much about club business; but... this isn't the first time Palo has made moves on our territory”.

“She only just met them that night…”, Nina began.

“Did she though? What about that stuff in the alley? That’s what brought the Vatos to San Pad”.

“She wasn’t there, Angel…”.

“No, but someone might have told her. This isn’t a big town, word travels…”, he said. “And why are you defending her? That bitch is…”.

“Someone you used to sleep with”, Nina said. Angel looked down and didn’t reply. “You did, and you don’t have to pretend you didn’t… Look, I don’t like her, but…”.

“You’re gonna like her even less in a minute”, Angel cut her off.

Nina took a deep sip of her coffee, and lit a cigarette.

“Tell me”.

Angel got on his feet, and began pacing the floor.

“This wasn’t my idea, you gotta know that, querida”.

Nina was growing more and more anxious.

“Just… talk”, she demanded.

Angel sighed.

“We gotta split up…”.

Nina shook her head, and blinked in confusion.

“We… what?”, she snarled. “One second you’re telling me you’re not letting me go. The next…”.

“It’s not for real, though. Just like an act”, Angel said. “I need to let Daniella think we’re done”.

Nina scoffed, and stubbed her cigarette angrily.

“With your dick”, she growled, and got up to stand. Angel looked almost desperate, trying to explain himself.

“No, I just gotta let her think I want to hang with her again. Spend some time with her; get her to talk. We need to know how much she’s been sharing with the Vatos…”.

“Fuck that! I’m not gonna sit in this house, while you let her rub her infected cunt all over the back of your bike!”.

Angel cleared his throat, and looked away; seemingly very uncomfortable at meeting her eyes.

“You won’t be here… You gotta go back to the trailer”. It felt like a, explosion in Nina’s head, and white, hot rage spread through her body. “You need to go back on lockdown, so the club can protect you. And, so it looks like we’re really over”.

Nina stormed into the bedroom, trying to get away from him.

“Shove it up your ass, Angel!”, she roared. She picked up a pillow from the bed and threw it at him as he stood in the doorway. “You want me to stay at that clubhouse and watch you two… hang? Fuck you!”.

Not thinking, she kicked at a barbell. A burning, blunt pain spread through her toes, and she instantly fell to the floor; holding her foot. Angel rushed over to look at the damage.

“Querida…”.

“Don’t!”, Nina hissed, tears streaming from her eyes. “Don’t fucking queridame… Fuck that hurt…”.

Angel sighed, and scooped her into his arms, to place her on the bed; before leaving the room. He came back a moment later, with a bag of frozen peas covered in a dishtowel. She tried to push it away, but he manhandled her hands away, and put the pack on her foot. He checked her toes.

“You didn’t break anything…”, he muttered.

Nina watched him gently put the pillow she’d thrown at him under her foot, to elevate it.

“I hate you right now”, she croaked. He met her eyes with a sad expression.

“I know… I might even deserve it”, he said. “Maybe I could have said or done something; come up with a better plan… But I’m not that smart. This was the only plan that made sense when we were at the table. I don’t know how else to get Daniella to talk”.

“Whose idea was it?”, Nina sniveled. He frowned slightly.

“I don’t think…”.

“Was it Bishop?”. Angel’s silence confirmed her suspicion. “Shit… Of course, it was. And here I thought he was beginning to like me”.

Angel gently began moving her toes back and forth. It tickled a bit, but Nina didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her smile.

“He does… This is for you as well”, he said. Nina scoffed and shook her head. “We need to find out if the Vatos are coming for you, and maybe…”. He didn’t finish his sentence.

“Maybe, what?”, Nina said. He looked at her reluctantly.

“Maybe, if I keep her happy, she’ll lose interest in hurting you, and she won’t tell them who you are”.

Nina scoffed, and drew her lips back in a sneer.

“Maybe you should just take me back to Charming. Keep me out of sight”, she said.

“We have to make her think we don’t know we’ve been made, by hiding you away”, Angel said.

He scooted closer to her, and lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles.

“I hate this as much as you do. I don’t want you sleeping anywhere else than next to me… This…”. He pointed between them. “This is right. I don’t want no one else”.

Nina let him put his forehead against hers.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Angel…”, she said.

Angel pulled back and stared deep into her eyes; and seemed to make a decision.

“Te amo, cuervo… I know it’s still early, but I fucking do”. Nina gasped, and parted her lips to speak, but couldn’t find the words. “You don’t gotta say anything. But I needed you to know that”.

She wanted to reply, but couldn’t find the words to describe what she felt about him in that moment. She was hurt, and so very angry; but her heart also fluttered at his words.

In the end she sighed, and closed her eyes.

“When are you gonna…”. She couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Tonight…”, Angel said. “I just gotta make a call. Get her to the clubhouse”. Nina nodded.

“Do it… Just, please go into the kitchen. I don’t wanna hear it”. He nodded shortly, and left the room.

She went to pack her bag. The house wasn’t so big that she couldn’t hear Angel on the phone; and she clenched her fists as she listened to him speak.

“Hey, baby… Yeah, I know… Look, I was thinking you could come by the clubhouse tonight. We could catch up… Nah, that’s over… I’m telling her tonight…”. He laughed a little. The sound made Nina want to break something, but she stayed quiet. “You looked hot yesterday… Yes, really. Fuck, Dani; you got me all worked up, when you… Yeah, ok. See you then”.

He moved back through the living room, and Nina pretended to ignore him as he entered the bedroom. She had to wipe away a tear, when Angel handed her her toothbrush.

“I’m sorry”, he muttered. Without another word, he pressed his lips against hers. Knowing she would probably regret it, she didn’t reciprocate the kiss; she simply didn’t have it in her.

They drove back to the clubhouse, Nina holding on to him harder than necessary. Angel didn’t once complain.

---

As plans went, Nina knew that Bishop’s was probably the best for their situation. That didn’t change the fact that she felt the urge to slap him across his face when she saw him on the porch of the clubhouse. He looked grave, but didn’t speak.

Angel squeezed her hand after she got off his bike, but she avoided being pulled into his arms; just turned her back to him, and walked back to the trailer.

She picked the .38 out of her bag, and sat for a long time on the cot; just holding it in her hand and looking at it. She was drained emotionally and physically, and so very tired. After a while, she put it down on the table, put her inhaler next to it, and laid down; falling into an almost comatose sleep.

It was dark outside, when a gentle hand shook her awake. EZ was standing over her with a solemn expression.

“Bishop told me to… Daniella is arriving in a few”.

Nina nodded, and sat up. She rubbed her eyes, and blew out a deep breath.

“Do you know what we have to do?”, she asked. EZ nodded.

“Angel filled me in. He’s not happy about it… There’s a dent in the table at his seat in templo, from where he stuck his knife in it”. A smile ghosted his face. Nina shrugged, and got up to stand. “This is going to suck, but if you need to talk to someone…”, EZ said.

“I know… Thank you”. She tried, and failed, to smile at him; then left the trailer, to get dumped by the man who claimed her loved her.

Angel was seated by the bar, drinking a beer with Gilly. He met her eyes for a short moment, but looked down at his drink quickly. The rest of the charter was spread throughout the room, chatting to hangarounds and each other; and doing their best to avoid eye-contact with her. Only Bishop came up to her as she entered.

“Nina, I know this is…”.

“Don’t… talk to me right now”, Nina said, trying to keep her voice even. “I can’t promise I won’t attack you with a broken beer bottle if you do”.

“That fair”, Bishop said. “But when you’re ready, I’ll be here to let you slap me around… I’d prefer without the broken beer bottle”.

Nina nodded shortly, and went behind the bar. She picked up a rag, and began wiping down the counter.

A few moments later, Coco came through the back door, and nodded at Angel. Nina watched as his face fell, and he met her eyes. His were pained, probably reflecting her own; and it was all she could do to keep from throwing herself into his arms.

Nina blew out a deep breath, as the door opened, and Daniella walked in. Angel’s face immediately grew indifferent.

“Sorry, I got other plans, ma’”, he said to Nina. He turned around and looked at Daniella. “And here they are now. How are you doing, baby?”. He smirked, and went over to hug the blonde tightly. Daniella gave Nina a smug smile over Angel’s shoulder.

Nina couldn’t help but gasp at the sight.

“Angel…”, she croaked. Angel led Daniella over to the bar, and looked at Nina like she was a complete stranger.

“Yeah, we’re gonna need a… screwdriver, right?”, he said.

“With ice”, Daniella gloated. Angel chuckled, and brushed his lips against her ear.

“You’re bad…”.

Bile rose in Nina’s throat, and she couldn’t contain it anymore. She dropped the rag, and ran out the door; only making it down from the porch and over to a trashcan, before she threw up. Even when she had nothing left in her stomach, she gagged, and it felt like the muscles in her belly tried to push out her very intestines.

EZ came running out after her, and held back her hair. He rubbed circles on her back to try to get her to calm down.

“It’s ok… It’s just an act, Nina… You’ll be ok”, he whispered. The sound of laughter from inside made Nina retch one last time, before she fell to her knees. EZ crouched down next to her, and pulled her into his arms. “I’m so sorry…”.

Nina was heaving for breath, and was finding it hard to get any oxygen into her lungs.

“Inhaler… trailer”, she rasped.

EZ got her to her feet, and dragged her with him to the trailer. Once inside, she took a hit from her inhaler, and collapsed on the cot.

“Can I get you anything?”, EZ asked.

Nina looked up at him, and began sobbing. He sat down next to her, and pulled her into his arms; just holding her close and stroking her hair.

The last few months, years even – everything that had brought her up to this point – rushed through her head, as if what she’d just witnessed turned on a faucet of memories that had shaped her. It was overwhelming.

… Throwing up behind a dumpster, when a pair of white sneakers comes in to view. “Are you ok, darlin’?”…

… Picked up at school by the coolest guy in town, and speeding down bumpy roads; laughing and squealing in glee…

… Crying in a smelly cell, before being let out, and enveloped in Jackson’s arms. The scent of leather, cigarettes and mint chewing-gum. “You’re better than this, Nina"…

… Walking in to the clubhouse with his hands covering her eyes. “Surprise!”. Filip kissing her cheek, and handing her a lit cigarette. “Congrats on not being knocked up, luv’”. Tig nabbing the smoke from her lips. “She’s got asthma, you idiot. Get her a pack of condoms instead”…

… “You’re not my fucking dad, Jax!”. “No, but I am your brother. Dropping out is a shit idea”…

… “Hi. I’m Juice". He’s almost too cute to handle. Jackson grabs the collar of his cut, and starts dragging him away. “No". “But Jax…”. “Just no"…

… Holding Jackson tightly, as he crumbles in her arms. “He's so tiny, Nina… I don’t think he’s gonna make it”. She strokes his hair, and forces him to look at her. “Abel is your kid, Jax. If anyone can survive something like this, it's him”…

… Holding Thomas for the first time, hours after his birth. “Your daddy loves you. He’s gonna be out real soon”…

… “Thank you for being there for Tara, while I was inside”. “It’s what family does. You taught me that”…

… “This is how it has to be… I have to give my boys a shot at a life away from this”. “You can’t do this to them. To me!”. He kisses her forehead, and holds her close as she sobs, before pressing a leatherbound journal into her hands. “Give this to them when they’re old enough. I love you, little sister. So much. You gotta live for me; be happy”…

… His cut on the casket. No more tears to cry. Filip’s arm around her, unable to tell who is supporting who…

… Too much alcohol. Too many cigarettes. Too many makeout-sessions in dark corners of parties, before a strong hand belonging to Happy, Tig, Filip, or someone else pulls the guy away; and makes her get on the back of a bike. “We promised we’d take care of you, ‘luv”…

… Wendy’s excited voice over the phone. “Abel got an A on his book-report”…

… Stumbling out of the car, Gael at her heels. “You gotta follow through now”. “I don’t want to”. His ice-cold smile, as he presses her against the wall, and lets his hands wander up and down her body. It’s too much. She can’t push him away; he’s too strong. “What would Teller say, if he knew I was about to fuck his little sister?”. Her shaking hand as she manages to pull out the gun, and he takes a step back. “You’re not gonna shot me”. He rushes forward, and she pulls the trigger. It’s like a red cloud behind his head, and she gasps, dropping the gun on the ground…

… “Nina?”. Footsteps running down the alley. Filip looks down at her disheveled state, and then at the dead body on the ground; and his face drops. “She’s here”. “Shit, muffin. What happened?”. “Chibs, do you know who that is?”. “Not now, Hap’. Let’s just get her out of here. Get the gun”. One of them scoops her into their arms, she’s to rattled to notice who…

… A long ass ride south. A pair of dark and intense eyes. Butterflies in her stomach as he removes his hands from the handlebars. His warm and devouring kiss. “I want you to trust me”. Wanting and needing him. Him wanting and needing her. This is real. “Te amo, cuervo”…

Her breathing calmed, and she managed to pull out of EZ’s grasp.

“I need to be alone right now”, she croaked. The prospect nodded.

“Bishop said you need to stay on the lot”, he said.

“I know. I won’t go anywhere. I just need… quiet”.

EZ got up and went for the door.

“Breakfast tomorrow?”. She wiped her eyes, and nodded. He smiled sadly, and left the trailer; closing the door behind him.

Nina dug through her bag, and pulled out the journal. She hadn’t opened it since the night of her fight with Angel in the cage. Opening the page of her favorite and at the same time most hated paragraph, she sat back with her legs folded under her.

“I know you’ll face pain, suffering, hard choices; but you can’t let the weight of it choke the joy out of your life. No matter what, you have to find the things that love you. Run to them…

There’s an old saying. That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I don’t believe that. I think the things that try to kill you make you angry and sad. Strength comes from the good things… your family, your friends, the satisfaction of hard work. Those are the things that will keep you whole. Those are the things to hold on to when you’re broken…”.

He’d been in such pain, and at the same time so optimistic. He’d trusted her with these words; maybe even meant them as much for her, as he had for his boys. It felt like everything she’d done since the moment of his death, had been like a big fuck you to his legacy. She felt ashamed and heartbroken.

“I’m sorry, Jax…”, she whispered.

Laying back on the cot, clutching the journal in her arms, she made a decision. She had to follow through with this plan Bishop had laid out.

They were going to get the truth about Palo’s plans. Both her families would be safe. Angel loved her.

Those were the things she was going to hold on to.

---

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #ez reyes #coco cruz #mayans mc fic

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

Text

Classic Heavy x OnPeriod!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Period Horniness Mixed With Boredom and a Busy Boyfriend?

Notes:

Please let me know if I haven't used AFAB correctly! I just didn't want to back y’all into too small a corner. So, this is meant to be ‘Reader who gets periods’. Could be a cis female, transitioning trans female, gender-neutral or agender person with a vagina, etc. Just, provided you have a vagina.

I know he isn't on the list but I wanted to try someone new! I don't play TF2 but I’ve read what there is of the comics! I loved them! ^^

Plot: So...

You decided that it was a good idea to sext Chevy.

Warnings: SMUT (Penis in Vagina). Period sex (He licks it once but that’s it in the way of blood to mouth), dirty talk, Daddy kink, dirty names, etc. *Cough* Creampie also. Lets hope videogame characters cant procreate or contract STD’s. I meant for it to be nasty smut, but due to my lack of experience and fluff brain I dunno if it actually is 😅 So beware.

~~~

As you are bored out of your mind and reading smuts (Dean Winchester. Beetlejuice. Herman Carter. Oh boy), causing your libido to get even more aggressive in your current hormonal state, you shrink down further into the couch cushions and groan from pain.

Not from cramps; You don’t get them as bad as others anymore, thank god (And besides, you have a hot water bottle underwear your shirt and the top of your sweats), but from the fact that your very huge, very hot and very lusty boyfriend is stuck in a meeting elsewhere!! Pouting, you drop your phone onto your chest and drop your head to the side, staring at the ceiling.

You sigh.

Ross, on the other couch across from you, rolls his head to the side and puts down his magazine to raise his bushy brows at you. “What is yer problem??”

“Hm,” You sigh again. “Nothing... “

As Ross looks back at his Lifestyle you get an idea, a cheeky smile slowly skidding across your lips as you peak down at your phone on your chest. Ooooh... Snatching up the phone, you open up Chevy’s message tab and start tapping out a text. “Heheh... “

You: Hey Chev. If you could do anything to me and I h a d to say yes, what would you do?

Then quickly you turn off the phone and set it back in its place screen down on your chest. You wonder, what would he say if he responded? What would you really agree to?

... actually lets not wonder that. We may scare ourselves. Lets just say; Much.

A few minutes later your phone buzzes and you take a moment, calming your nerves and your excitement before you pick it up and open the messages again.

Chevy: Ohhh, I wouldn’t go there sweet bottom. Very, very busy right now.

Chewing on your thumb nail, you grin broadly at the screen and wonder even more what he’s thinking.

You: What should I do while I wait for you then? If you’re so busy I’ll be so wet when you get here...

You: Already am pretty soaked actually. I tried to handle it myself. . .

Okay, this is the great thing about Chevy, realise. You can say whatever you like, sex-wise, and you wont ever be embarrassed. Because you know he’s always up to fuck, and he’s usually thinking about it first.

Chevy: Oh, are you just teasing me or are you gonna send proof? This is a dangerous game your playing princess/prince.

Oh dear. You cant send proof! How can you deflect this? “Ahh... “ Thinking as you look around the room, muttering in a panic ‘Um. Um. Um. Um-’, “OH!” You hop up from the couch and duck behind it, pull the front of your shirt forward and quickly snap a picture of your chest, before fixing your clothes and jumping back onto the couch, laying on your back again. Cheeks rosy from the adrenaline. Ross looks confused at you, nose scrunched up and beard askew, but you just waive him off and send the picture. You don’t type anything this time.

“Squirrely... “ Ross mutters in annoyance, shaking his head back at his reading material.

Your phone buzzes again and you try to keep a straight face as you read the block of text, and watch the attachment, the bottom half of your face hidden comfortably behind the collar of your shirt to hide your frazzled-ness.

Chevy: Baby, you know that’s not what I meant... But look what its done to me. Devil person.

*Chevy Attached: A video of his lap shifting, and there’s a slight bulge in his black pants.

Eyes wide at the video he must’ve taken on the sly under the table, of his gently growing prominence, as he shifts to get more comfortable with it. Its just enough movement for you to imagine it thrusting onto your aching section and it makes you hide even more of your face under your shirt. “Jesus... “ This may have been a bad idea.

Bad I cant stop.

You: I love that

Chevy: I know

*Chevy Attached: A picture of his grinning face from below, looking off assumedly to the slideshow or whatever they’re being shown in that meeting.

Why is that cocky, mischievous look on his face, which some (Including yourself sometimes) would call an asshole look, hotter then the outline of his huge, ever loving cock?? It just doesn't add up!

This is becoming a cruel, and unusual form of torture. You’ve never tried sexting before today, and you regret it.

Ohhh, god. You wish he was here! Closing your eyes for a moment and furrowing your eyebrows from frustration and longing, you shamelessly imagine how Chev would lead you to the nearest empty room with a door (Any room. Laundry? Kitchen? Your room? His? Someone else's?? It wouldn’t matter to him, and by the time he got your favourite weapon of his out you wouldn't either. At least, that’s the way things were the last time you checked.) push your body against the wall and thrust his cock deep into you as he plays torturously with your front with his huge hands...

And it wouldn't be hard. You’re already totally slick, with blood and slick.

Oh, god. You love that he’s there for period sex.

As you imagined, you had let your head fall to the side slowly relaxing. And, as you imagined further, fantasising about your orgasm building up and feeling your pussy ache for pressure in real life you start to hear h e a v y footsteps coming towards this room in the hall.

Just as you realise that your knight in shining cargo has come you snap your eyes open and there that man is, standing behind the couch above you, jaw taught. You cant see his lower section due to the back of the couch obscuring your view but a broad grin rips across your lips anyway at the speediness of his arrival and the forcefulness - in other words, desperation, - in his face. You immediately, kind of hilariously, yank out the hot water bottle from your clothes. “Well, hi there!- Oh,”

He just leans down, fixes his ginormous, manly hands around your waist and plucks you off the couch with ease, literally throwing you over his shoulder - your ass by his head, - and starts walking with just as much force as he came towards the exit. Oh, here we go...

Your pussy sings at the pressure of his broad shoulder pressing against it, and bumping against it as he walks, and you would be embarrassed by that but instead you just promise it that its going to get its real treat, real soon.

“Baby girl/boy, you’ve been a real, desperate, whore.” Cheavy growls out as he finds a room and turns on his heel, getting you both inside and kicking the door hard closed. You take that as a sign of how hard he’s about to fuck you, tingling with excitement. He lifts you off his shoulder and plops you down on the washing machine - or dryer? You don’t know. You just know its on, and its sending delicious vibrations through your core, - making you moan at the sudden, total attention to your cunt. But you’re also occupied sitting still, caught in his stern, smirking expression. “I really shouldn't reward you for behaviour like that, kid.”

Knitting your eyebrows together and shifting forward on the machine, opening your legs so he can nestle himself between them and running your hands around his neck so you can guide him forward you whine. Simping. “You don’t want to leave either, though, do you... ?” You smirk slyly.

“Right.” He smirks back, even more mischievously then you. It makes you wonder, and your pussy yearn. “That’s why I’m doing this for me.” One of those hands, your favourite hands in the entire world (Well apart from that of those who fight for minorities rights every day *Sit com wink into the camera*. ) moves between the two and latches onto your mound, making you jolt forwards into it as he cups and massages it. His hand perfectly cups it, too. Palm big enough to press against the lips, thumb strong enough at the top to rub up and down the top and the rest of his fingers just warm it all up. “Are you gonna be an obedient, disgusting little cock sleeve?” Caught in his gaze, and almost too turned on to respond, you stay still for a moment, thighs just clamping around his hand.

Almost.

Quickly, when he stops his movements on your core you nod fervently. “Yes! Yes, I am.”

“Hmmm?” He tilts his head, looking down as he unbuttons your jeans and makes your breath hitch as dips a thick finger past your underwear, into you and immediately takes it up again to his lips to taste, smirking at your stupefied expression. Blood... he just... tasted... your... He does this every time you two engage in period sex, just to see this reaction from you but you never get used to it. How does he do it?? “What do you call me when I fuck you, Y/N?”

You break yourself out of the moment, getting back to reality. “D-Daddy. Sorry. Sorry, Daddy... “

“That’s right, baby doll. I’m your Daddy, and you are... ?”

“Your amenable, disgusting little whore.” You respond obediently, like a student... yeah. A student right out of a porn video.

“Correct, now... Undo my pants now, wild cat. Somethings just begging for your aching, pretty cunt.” All too happy to do so, your hands dive down - well, not without feeling his chest up on your way down which is made so much easier as he’s just wearing a normal t-shirt instead of chest armour, - and wolfishly unzip and push down his trousers, revealing a fully, entirely enlarged and throbbing penis hidden behind worn cotton boxers. You chew on your lips as you go to pull down those, too, but Chevy chuckles and and gathers your eager hands in one his, reclaiming control that he never really lost. “Oh, not yet. I told you this was for me, didn't I?- “

“When are our carnal relations ever any different, Chev?” You ask, scrunching up your nose cheekily. Then, “Ah,”, remembering your place for the moment, you correct yourself carefully. But, you still smirk. “I mean... Daddy.”

“Get on your knees and use your mouth. You are so good at that- your best quality, really.”

Scrunching up your nose at his snark this time, scowling, you do as he says anyway hopping off the machine and coming face-to-dick.

Because you are a whore.

In this moment, at least.

And, besides; You are really, really good at this. If you do say so yourself. if you do it just right, his animal instincts will completely take over and he’ll really use you. He steps closer, feet on either side of your thighs making you crane your neck to not be motorboating his freaken balls. Pulling down his boxers, finally completely exposing his, admittedly perfect - for you, - , genitalia and sigh as you get to wrap both your hands around the girth. Its so thick. God, you love it.

I would love it a heck of a lot more if it was nailing me into the tiles right now instead of nearly poking my eye out... but there are ways we can make that happen.

Moaning, like you’re taking the first bite of a really good sandwich you take as much of his hot, leaking cock between your lips and your hot mouth. Immediately one of his hands cups the back of your head and firmly pushes you further, the girth disappearing into you until hair tickles your nose. You can only imagine how you look... and it kind of turns you on even more.

“You are the best cocksleeve, sweet’eart... “ He says, voice not betraying anything so far. You can change that.

Utilising the tip of your tongue, you begin to stroke the the bottom, all along it to the tip and you suck - gently at first, - and slipping your lips along the shaft over and over, like you’re eating an icy poll. Its a slick, spit sheening mess by the time he’s literally spilling spurts of cum into your mouth and chin, which you wipe off. Not a full orgasm, but enough to grant you what you really want. And damn, is it hot.

As you slip off of his head again, licking up the creamy substance from the very tip, guided back by his hands in your hair gently but authoritatively he lets out a loud growl at the pleasure you give him. “... Tell me, who’s your Daddy?”

You just innocently lean forward and nuzzle his thighs in response, making him shudder and get down to the floor with you. Frustratedly, like this has to happen right fucking now, Chevy lays you on your back on the cold floor and straddles you after tugging down your pants and your underwear, and shoves himself fully in you all at once.

Its an easy fit, spearing into your searing, red, mess of a hole like it can only be one time of the month and when you have sex with Chevy. He grunts, and starts absolutely thundering into you over and over, like you’re the best feeling cunt he’s every experienced. You believe it. And, because of the way he makes you feel with that gorgeous, stone-hard cock of his you hope it is really true.

The sounds that it causes you to make are completely pornographic, and can absolutely be heard outside the room. The strength he uses to pound your dripping pussy both presses your bare ass into the cold tiles of the floor and pushes you up across the ground, and you whine. So hard... “Oh my god, oh my god!!” You cant help how your legs spread as wide as possible at the thighs but your ankles press tightly to his back. You arch your back to meet him, listening to the squish sounds that come out of you and his growly, fast breathing. “So good, Chevy!!”

“What.” He says quickly, wrapping his hands around your waist to keep you still and not sliding up the floor- so his hits find their target every time with an agonising strength. Pounding your pussy in a way you wish wouldn't stop.

Pushing his chest up so you can relocate, and get a different position, making him sit and you straddle his waist, hands up his shirt and fingers spreading across his hairy chest. “I meant Daddy.”

“Yes you fucking did.”

He always gets so cranky when he’s close to blowing.

Its not a bad thing, cranky is sexy on him- provided his penis is shoved inside you.

Grinding in his lap now, you do much of the grunt work, until he cant take your torment this time and takes your waist in his hands again, lifting you and jamming you back down on his rod over and over again, until he explodes cum inside you.

The outburst fills you up completely, the funk dripping out from between your walls and around his base, dripping on the floor pink from your period causing you to see stars come too, a moment later as he slams you down on his manhood once more.

Catching your breathes, you two stay sitting there like that, letting your shared fluid ooze out of you from around him, until his cock softens totally in you. When that’s done, he lifts your body off his and sets you down on the ground away from the puddle you two made. Your legs feel shaky, your breath is hard to catch, and your pussy feels battered.

This was a good session.

Chevy seems to think so too, as he grins and picks you up again, sitting you sideways, carefully on lap. “Oh, did I do well, Daddy?” You blink innocently, happy to keep playing the game but tired.

“Mhm. As always. You’ve got the perfect cunt, baby girl/boy.”

You look up, waiting for a kiss. “Oh, hope so.” Your lips meet, finally, tongues playing together gentle. You exchange long, open mouthed kisses with each other for a while after your session, making out lazily and dining on each others tastes as desert.

#Classic Heavy x Reader #TF2 Cheavy #TF2 Cheavy x Reader #Classic Heavy #Teen Fortress 2 #TF2 Chevy #TF2 Chevy x Reader

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meganshinsou-tm · 4 years

Text

ghosting. (m)

☙ pairing: bakugou x reader

☙ theme: crimson|ink universe, non-canon

☙ cw/tw: daddy kink, piercings, oral, slight dirty talk, dumb baku.

☙ a/n-request: So this was a ko-fi request I did for the amazing @bakugou-katsukisgf - she loves CI Baku so much and just wanted smut with him because the thirst was real. I love you bb - thank you again for everything! <3

“Bakugou?”

Red eyes glanced in your direction and a familiar smirk followed. You smiled in return and excused yourself past a few people on your way to greet the blonde at the end of the bar. As always you got a warm hug and kiss to the cheek that made your stomach twist and turn with glee.

“What are you doing here, stranger?” You asked with a pinch to one of Bakugou’s chubby cheeks.

His teeth snapped at your fingers and he ordered the two of you a couple of shots before letting you know that he was just out with his buddies from the shop. Happily you took a seat next to him, along with the shots. After they were all downed and you both grinned at the other, you sat there and fell into conversation, ignoring the fact that you hadn’t seen or heard from each other in a few weeks for the moment.

You let Bakugou know what you had been up to, normal things like work and these newl kick-boxing lessons you were trying here and there. Bakugou chuckled, teasing about when he was going to see a private demonstration of what you learned so far, earning a playful punch to the arm. Next Bakugou filled you in on his life, the drama happening at the shop between Kirishima and the new girl, a few stories of the people he had pierced the last few days.

Back and forth the two of you talked about any and everything, conversation never ceasing to avoid you. It was always like that though, you and Bakugou had been friends for a couple years now and just had that sense of comfort and familiarity with each other that really everything came easy. Even the insane, but amazing insane, hookups.

The relationship you had was something but also nothing.

Most people would refer to it as a casual or friends with benefits situation and you truly called it that as well for the first few years. However, it was kind of inevitable that you would one day grow different feelings for Bakugou and want something more. And there were times where you could say he wanted the same - but then he’d vanish.

Bakugou would go silent. The fucker would literally ghost you.

The first time maybe hurt, until you saw each other randomly in town one day and picked up right where you left off. Then it all happened again and just became a cycle and you grew to become okay with it. You never asked questions, you teased here and there but that was it. Clearly Bakugou had some things going on preventing him from making whatever this was between you something more and sure you could demand answers but you knew Bakugou. He would come to you with answers when he was ready and you were okay with it.

Having this fucked up friendship with him was more than enough for you. Things were never weird, never awkward, you just worked together.

And it was that exact reason why the two of you spent the next hour together at the bar, challenging the other to drinks, teasing and fucking with the other until finally you decided to leave and go back to his place for the remainder of the night.

Once inside of his ridiculously nice vehicle and on your way, maybe the somewhat large amount of alcohol in your system let your mouth and mind run to places you swore you’d never let them.

“Ya know Baku, I don’t get you sometimes. Like - why do ya ghost me so much huh?”

Bakugou quirks a brow as he drives and glances over at you with a questioning grin.

“What the fuck are you talking about light-weight?”

You sigh and let your head fall back against the seats headrest and start to wave your hands around while you explain.

“Ghosting. It’s when you just go silent on someone. Like you don’t call or text them anymore, don’t see them. You just disappear and are no longer to be heard of.”

The blonde clicked his tongue and shook his head, “Clearly that’s a lie. I’m talking to you right now ain’t I, you see me right here!”

“You know what I mean Bakugou. I mean yeah we always find our way back to each other eventually but you can’t tell me you don’t have this fucking habit you know. Like do you have some sort of secret or something? You a spy or some shit and go on these covert missions and that’s why I don’t hear from you for weeks? I mean that could be cool but we’re best friends babe, it’s not cool that you just ya know … don’t tell me things.”

There’s no witty response after that from Bakugou. Not another smirk or glance. In fact there’s no more words or exchanges for the rest of the drive and for the first time ever - things are awkward and you have nothing to talk about.

When you arrive at Bakugou’s place you immediately excuse yourself to the bathroom. Bakugou just grunts in response and heads for the kitchen. You take a few minutes to yourself and wash your face, hoping that maybe it’ll help to calm those sudden nerves you have. And it helps just a little to bring you back to your senses and realize the depth of the shit you said.

“Fuck,” you sigh.

When you leave the bathroom, you find Bakugou on the couch. He’s drinking a cup of coffee and there’s another sitting on the small table next to a plate of toast with butter.

“Figured you could use this.” Bakugou finally speaks when you sit down on the other end of the couch.

You thank him and take a piece of the toast with the coffee, immediately choosing to eat and drink them so that you don’t freak yourself out too much about the elephant in the room. Bakugou took a few moments to check his phone. When you had polished off the small snack, your nerves diminished by a fraction. Internally you thanked the bread for soaking up the alcohol in your blood, probably saving you from sticking your foot in your mouth again.

The sound of Bakugou locking his phone and setting it down on the table made you look his way. You don’t really know what you were expecting but seeing his red eyes looking at you wasn’t exactly it. You weren’t sure what to do, didn’t know if he was going to speak or if he wanted you to start first, so you decided to just rip the band-aid off right there.

“I’m sorry for that dumb shit I said in the car. Like you said, I’m a light-weight yeah? I uh - I didn’t mean to upset you or anything, really I was just teasing.”

Bakugou only nodded and finally looked away, down to the coffee mug in his hands.

“Look I - I don’t want to make shit worse so if you want then I’ll just go for the night and we can talk later?” You suggest, trying not to let your anxiety or even sadness show in your tone as you go to place your own mug on the table and move to stand.

A defeated sigh leaves Bakugou and he moves to grab your wrist, halting you. You gulp and look down to him, unsure of what to do next. It’s hard to read Bakugou right now, something that never happens, but he looks … like he’s struggling. It worries you and you turn to ruffle his hair, not positive how to really handle the situation because you had never seen the guy like this before.

He was all big and bad, cocky and arrogant, all the time. A coy smirk and challenge was always in those red eyes. His tattoos and piercings always helped to give off the image of Bakugou being this person who didn’t exactly struggle, who wasn’t vulnerable. But here he was, his grip on your wrist tightening and loosening like he couldn’t decide whether to let go or hold on. Eyes blinking at your connection and jaw clenched.

“Hey big guy, you alright,” you finally ask and sit back down next to him, letting your hand fall from his hair and to his shoulder with a firm squeeze. “If it’s what I said earlier, I swear I was just joking Bakugou. You know I say dumb shit.”

Finally you get a reaction in the form of an irritated growl and a glare.

“Fuck - stop apologizing already,” he snapped and let you go, falling back against the couch and rubbing his face. “It wasn’t dumb, you were just stating the fucking truth.”

You tilt your head at him and ask what he’s talking about.

“I … I do have this fucking ‘secret’. I do have a reason for whatever the fuck it was that you said I do.”

“Ghosting.” You stated.

Bakugou only rolled his eyes and sighed with a nod.

“Yeah that. Look you’re too fucking smart for your own good alright and if you really wanna know then … I’ll tell you. Don’t go feeling all special or some shit but maybe I fucking trust you or whatever.”

You try not to smile at that, try not to rub it in his face. Instead you stay humble and curl up with one of the couch pillows. Bakugou gives you a look before chuckling and lets out a deep breath.

“I can’t tell you everything but I can tell you enough and you better be happy with what you fucking get. Long story short - I’m sort of in what you might call a gang, maybe worse. I uh, I ‘deal’ with people, bad people only though. Pro-heroes know about us and we actually help them out so we’re like vigilantes if you wanna call it that. It’s dangerous shit, graphic and gross sometimes. I don’t feel like a fucking monster for what I do, I know I’m doing good. I’m still me, I’m still the same fucking person you’ve always known - you know I don’t fake shit. But since we are in this weird friendship or whatever, I just think you - you deserve to know who I am completely. You deserve to know that just knowing me and being with me can be risky and that’s … that’s why I just fall of the face of the earth when I think things are getting too fucking serious. I’m supposed to protect people from these fuckers and I’m not gonna sugarcoat shit but ‘us’ would be a liability, especially right now because we’re in some really deep shit and until it blows over … we can’t - we can’t be more.”

You don’t really say much, just stare at him sort of blankly and try to let everything sink in.

“B-But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to … I just … it’s not the right time. And I just need you to know that yeah I’m dangerous, my life is dangerous but … I’d never fucking hurt you, you know. You’re safe with me, safer with me than with anyone else which I get sounds fucking dumb after what I just said but … you get it, right?”

All you can do for the time being is nod. It’s so much to take in but Bakugou understands and gives you that time. He waits patiently next to you, hand on your thigh and rubbing it gently. When you’re able to finally come to terms with it all, you smile and take his hand.

“Look babe, you’re gonna have to try harder if you wanna get rid of me. You get it, right?”

The tease earns a genuine chuckle from Bakugou and he visibly deflates and calms before you.

“Katsuki, thank you. Thank you for telling me all of that, I know it took a lot. And it may not be every detail but I’m content with what you did give me, really. Just knowing this part of you, it means a lot. You know me, you know I’m not going to judge you. If I was that type of person, I would’ve told you to fuck off a long time ago.”

Bakugou smirks at that and rests his hands on your hips when you place yourself in his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck, one hand toying with his hair and your eyes gazing down into red.

“And I do know you’d never hurt me. I mean lets be real, I could totally kick your ass.”

“Keep telling yourself that princess,” he grunts with a playful smack to your ass.

You laugh and tug at his hair as payback and lean in to kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“As for the other stuff, I understand. I won’t push or expect more than what we have right now, honestly I’m okay with things as they are and knowing what I do now, makes me feel better. But when you are ready for ‘more’, when you’re really ready for me just know I’ll be right where you left me and ask what the fuck took you so long.”

And maybe it’s the challenge in those words that have you ending up in Bakugou’s bed on your back and trembling with his face between your legs, red hungry eyes locked on your own blissed out ones as he makes a meal of you. The feeling of cool metal from his tongue piercing pressed against your clit or warming up inside of you never fails to make you gasp and whine.

“K-Katsuki, please.”

For the first time in what feels like hours, Bakugou pulls away from you, licking his slick lips before turning to bite at your inner thigh hard enough to leave marks and make you cry out.

“Who?”

You gulp down a quick breath and comb through soft blonde spikes.

“Daddy.”

“Good girl. What’s wrong baby, need something?” He asks coyly, letting one hand stay between your legs to finger you slowly while the other rubs at the inked skin of your thigh that he rests his cheek to.

You nod and pout, “Please daddy, I need it.”

“Need what? Don’t get fucking shy on me now princess, you were a pretty mouthy brat a while ago.”

You blush and squirm, covering your mouth to muffle the sob that escapes when Bakugou leans back in and runs the metal ball in his mouth snug against your oversensitive clit.

“Fuck, c-cock, I need your cock, p-please daddy, please!”

With a satisfied growl, Bakugou gives one last playful suck to your clit before pulling away for good. He grins wickedly up at you and makes sure to place kisses and harsh bites to your thigh and hip as he works his way back up your body. You sigh and hum at the sensations, grateful for the small break. Also grateful to see the sight of his cock between your bodies.

Without hesitation, your hand reaches down to take hold of it and give slow lazy strokes. Yours and Bakugou’s eyes stay glued to the sight of your fingertips gently tugging at either of the barbells that pierce the flushed skin of Bakugou’s cock and it earns raspy grunts in return and hushed curses.

“Shit,” Bakugou groans as his hips start to roll along with your hand. “Enough!”

You chuckle at his own impatience when he peels your hand away and roughly flips you over onto your stomach. Warm rough hands grab at your hips and jerk them up enough to raise your ass high. Bakugou bites at his bottom lips and takes hold of himself, pumping his cock slowly while he admires the view just a bit longer and waits.

You look up at him from over your shoulder, hair falling over it. It’s definitely one of Bakugou’s favorite views but anytime those eyes look at him, whether it be with lust, challenge, petty annoyance or whatever, he always finds himself falling that much more.

He’s a fucking sap for them, so what.

But also, nothing beats how those eyes go from looking so lazy and glazed over to going wide and utterly fucked out as he slides his cock inside of you, inch by inch. And by the time he’s bottomed out, he can swear he sees little stars inside of them.

“Daddy,” you whine when Bakugou starts a steady pace.

You want to squeeze your eyes shut because the way he fucks you is ruthless and overwhelming but you never can. He looks too much like a damn god with his red eyes burning like fire, how the muscles all over his body contract and flex with the thrust of his hips. Then there are those damned piercings in his nipples that glimmer in the light and sometimes when he knows you can’t look away, he licks his lips in a way that shows off the other piercing you're a sucker for.

But when Bakugou starts to snap his hips harder and falls over on top of you, the cold metal of his nipple piercings pressing against your back paired with the hot breath panting along your neck, it all at once becomes too much. Your eyes finally snap shut and you moan pathetically into the mattress when you press your cheek to it. Bakugou groans and bites possessively at your opposite one, his hands finding yours and interlocking your fingers when he pins them down to the sheets and fucks even harder.

“Fuck,” he pants and licks the teeth marks on your face, “So good for me, you’re always so fucking good for me baby.”

You gasp for air between moans and desperate sobs. You can feel yourself unraveling fast from the way Bakugou’s cock glides in and out smoothly, from those cursed barbells that add the extra stimulation that’s ultimately your ruin every time. But you don’t dare let yourself be pushed over the edge without his word.

“D-Daddy, cum … I can’t, I n-need to cum, please let me.”

Bakugou struggles for air as well. You tighten and clench around him repeatedly from being so ready to cum and he can’t find it in his heart to deny you any longer. With a groan he nods and presses his cheek to your own, letting go of one of your hands to wrap around your throat and pull your head snug against his so he can look at your face.

“Alright princess, let me see that pretty little face when you cum. Go ahead.”

Your lips part and you want to cry out as you cum but the sound is nothing but a broken rasp. Your eyes widen for a second before going lazy and hazed and it's then that Bakugou follows and cums generously inside of you. His erratic thrusts slow until they’re nothing but shallow thrusts that earn small grunts from you. When he’s emptied every bit inside of you, Bakugou lets your face fall back to the mattress and you both melt.

Bakugou grins and places plenty of soft kisses to your neck and the back of your shoulders, making you smile and hum happily, too tired to really speak your appreciation to him. But you don’t need to because he knows and he shows it by taking care of you, leaving momentarily to grab a warm damp washcloth to clean you up with before maneuvering the both of you under the covers where you cuddle up close in his arms.

You're exhausted no doubt and the way Bakugou holds you tight, using those big hands to rub your back and play with your hair, it only makes you doze off even faster. But not fast enough to save you from sticking your foot in your mouth again with a sleepy confession against the ink of his chest.

“I love you, you jerk.”

Too tired to even react or worry, you remain as you are but you don’t miss the feeling of a smile against your forehead or the way arms tighten even more around you for a second.

“I love you too punk.”

#katsuki bakugou x reader #crimson ink verse #crimson ink bakugou #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #smut #ko-fi request #answered request #18+ only

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reject-princess97 · 4 years

Text

Jay Halstead 2- Chicago PD

Walking towards the CPD on the some what warm morning my mind was elsewhere so I ended up accidentally bumping into somebody.

"Crap, sorry." I rushed, looking up to see my ,'secret' boyfriend Jay Halstead who let out a chuckle and moved to the side, letting me walk ahead of him a little.

"You OK Baby?" He mumbled to me as we grew closer the the building, being careful not to let people over hear us.

"Yeah, just, bad day." I told him with a small smile. I was about to climb the stairs to the building when my arm was grabbed carefully and Jay dragged me to a near by ally way.

"You're lying, tell me, what's wrong?" He insisted. I huffed, feeling a little stupid, of course I couldn't hide anything from Jay, he knows me better than anybody, even myself.

Jay and I had been together for nearly two years now but weren't quite ready to let everyone on the team know yet. Not because we were ashamed of our relationship, or that we just didn't want people to know, we just like sneaking around, it gave us a sense of danger, made things...exciting.

We were going to tell the team, soon infact, we had to, Jay had very recently asked me to marry him, and since this meant an actual law binding marriage, we figure our family and friends should know.

I felt Jay place his hand on my cheek and lean in, resting his head on my forehead.

"Baby, tell me what's the matter?" He sighed, his minty fresh breath washing over my face. I looked up at him and smiled sadly.

"Today Mark's ten years since Frank Jordan killed my sister." I explained sadly. Jay let out a sympathetic sigh and pulled me into a hug.

"I'm sorry, I forgot about today, are you OK?" he worried and I nodded.

"I will be once we get into the office and get a case. I just need something to take my mind off of it." I shrugged. Jay nodded, as he looked out of the ally way and then back at me, giving me a wide toothy grin before he kissed me softly.

"OK, that worked a little." I muttered against his lips. He seem to deepen the kiss a little, pushing me back against the wall, sliding his hands under my top. He pulled away, smirking down at me.

"How was that?" he wondered cheekily.

"well, I'm not thinking about my sisters anymore, that's for sure." I replied, reaching my arms up to his face and kissing him one last time before we pulled apart and straightened our clothes.

"come on lets go see what Voight has for us." Jay offered and i nodded.

"wait, Jay..." I began, he turned around and I dove into his chest. "thank you, for making me feel a little better, even if it was for a couple seconds."

"Any time baby, it's what I'm here for. I hate seeing to sad." he grinned back. I pulled away and the two of us returned to our journey back to the CPD.

I climbed the stairs to the main entrance and Jay grabbed the door.

"M' lady." He joked, I bowed, thanking him, playing along.

"You two gonna keep flirting or are you gonna actually go out on a date?" I heard Trudy call, I looked up at her as she leaned over the reception counter and I winked, continuing our way up to intelligence.

Walking into the room, I saw Voight at the notice bored, Burgess and Ruzek were sat chatting at a desk and Atwater was walking towards the break room.

"Hey guys!" I called out, earning a few hellos from the team who were here.

"I see you and Halstead arrived together...again." Ruzek noted loudly.

"Yes, well, that tends to happen, when you work together, live a few blocks away from each other and like to arrive on time." I replied,

"It also happens when you spend the night at his place." Ruzek joked as he sent a smirk to me, so I flipped him off.

"Oh, somebody's getting defensive." Burgess, my Best friend, added as her boyfriend flipped back.

"Halstead, my office." Voight called over. Jay stood from his seat at his desk, where we was enjoying the show, and walked to our bosses office. Voight shoot the door and I let myself get on with the last bit of paper work I had left from the day before.

When Voight's door finally opened again Jay walked out with a worried look on his face and he gestured to the office. I stood up and walk over, only growing more confused when Voight walked out, shooting me a look I didn't quite make out.

'What the hell is going on?' I thought as Jay closed the door and I watched as he began pacing. The minutes went by slowly as I watched my boyfriend pace worryingly. Out of the corner of my eye I was Voight say something and then everyone in the office, including Antonio who by now had arrived.

"Jay, what's going on? Your starting to freak me out." I voiced, walking over and stepping in front of Jay, making the pacing stop.

"It's him, it's Frank Jordan, he's in Chicago and he's killed a guy." He told me fearfully. I took a step back, shaking my head, trying for forget what I had just heard.

"No."

"I'm sorry baby, but it's true, Voights CI confirmed it today. He's back in town and had a lot more bodies to drop."

I could feel myself fight for breath as I repeated 'this isn't happening, this can't be happening'over and over in my head.

We're gonna catch him "Y/L/N, and when we do, he's gonna go away for a long, long time." Jay reassured me as he took my hands in his and pulled me into a hug. I let the tears o had been forcing back fall as I shook, violently into Jay's chest.

"Voight...he wants you in the case, thinks it would help you get some closer for Casey's death and it could give us the edge if he remembers who you are."

"I...I don't know if I can face him." I mumbled into his chest. I felt him press a soft, caring his to the top of my head as I cried a little more.

"Then we'll tell Voight no, simple as that." He shrugged. I stayed quiet, letting the silence was over me as I thought about what Voight was offering.

Voight was giving me the chance to put this monster away, for good. He was letting me apart of this case even though he knew I was a flight risk and mostly he was giving me the chance to get the justice my sister deserves.

I stood up straight, pulling myself out of Jay's embrace, wiping my tears away I took a deep breath and nodded.

"OK, what does he need me to do?" I asked. Jay grinned, knowing full well I wasn't gonna back down from this fight. He gestured back out in the bullpen and we walked out. Voight turned and looked at me, asking a silent question which I nodded in response to.

"OK, we know where he is, but right now, we need eyes on him, so Halstead, Y/L/N, you two are gonna go undercover as two kids outside the club he owns. Burgess and Dawson, you two are gonna be inside, Ruzek, you and me, we're gonna be in a van down the road, keeping Y/L/N and Halstead is sight at all times." Voight ordered pointing out each member as he spoke.

"Actually sir, they go by *ship name* now, even Sargent Platt is calling them that." Ruzek called, I let out a low groan, rolling my eyes. I hate that name.

"Whatever, just keep S/N in view at all times." Voight ordered. I saw the tiniest smiled grace his lips as he turned and looked at Jay and I who shrugged.

Voight of course was the only person to know about Jay and I's relationship, well, the only person other than Will, Jay's brother.

"We leave for the club at 8 tonight."

Once Voight was out of the way the team made a move to continue on their work, being as we still had several hours before we had to get ready for the case.

I got a load of paper work done before I saw a figure stand over my desk. I looked up to see Jay, holding coffee and take out.

"Join me for lunch?" He grinned as he placed the food on my desk and grabbed his chair, pushing it over to my desk.

"It seems like I haven't actually got a choice." I joked as I moved my work from my desk, to make room for the meal.

"I can leave if you want?" He played a long, standing up and walking away.

"Sit down dork." I chuckled and grabbed his belt, pulling towards me.

"Wow, Y/L/N, this is a work place, leave that kind of thing for the bedroom." I heard Ruzek call. Once again I glared at him and flipped him off. Jay sat down next to me and we began eating.

After a few minutes the team left for their own lunch while Jay and I ate.

The thing about Jay and I is, we didn't need to speak to know what the other was thinking, we were happy just sitting in silence, just enjoying each others company. Most of the time, it was like we could read each other like a book. We were in perfect sync, everything we did bounced off each other, back and forward working like clockwork. It had been like this for as long as I had known him, which was a long ass time.

We grew up together, we lost contact when I moved away ith my mum, dad and sister but found each other when I was assigned to his unit but when he was a Ranger. When he left, I stuck around, once again losing track of each other. That was until 3 years ago when I was taken out of the Police Academy early and assigned to Intelligence, where, luck would have it, there was Jay freaking Halstead grinning at me like a dork when Voight introduced me to the team, I later learned that when Voight had noticed me, he dug up my past, he asked Jay about me and apparently he had great things to say because the next day I was at the CPD looking over at the people who were to become my team.

"Y/N...Y/N?" I heard Jay call, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?"

"You off in a clouds again?" He chuckled. It was then I noticed Voight and Dawson stood behind him.

"Huh...oh...yeah, sorry, was just thinking back to when I was brought onto the team." I smiled, taking a sip if my coffee. "So, what did I miss?"

"You and Halstead, are you gonna be OK?" Voight asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked confused.

"Working together I mean, you're not gonna let S/N get in the way of the job?" He asked pointing between us.

Antonio looked at us with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm gonna kill Ruzek, I swear to god, he is a dead man." I growled. Voight let out a laugh as Jay chuckled, placing a hand on my thigh.

"We can kill him later, right now we need to focus on Jordan." Jay grinned.

"Y/N and I will be fine Voight, we've been partnered up a million times in the last year and it has never affected our work before, why would it now?" Jay asked him, he took a quick look at a confused Antonio before turning back.

"Because the job has never affected either of you personally before. You and Y/L/N, you work well together and you keep your relationship outside of work and I appreciate that. But Frank Jordan is someone who means to put Y/L/N in a danger. This is personal to her making her unpredictable and irrational."

"Y/L/N is stood right here boss." I spoke up. "And yeah, this is personal but I'm a cop, I will make sure this son of a bitch goes down properly, then, it's up to you." I told him, standing from my desk.

"That son of a bitch killed my 16 year old sister, because he thought she had over heard something she shouldn't have. She was just buying gum, so mum wouldn't smell the cigarettes on her breath. She was a good kid, going though the loss of my dad and turned to some bad influences, began smoking, drinking. I had called her that night, from my dorm room, asking her to talk to mum about her problems. She stopped drinking a month before but she was trying to kick the smoking. 3am I got the phone call, my sister was dead, and that bastard killed her. Death is too good for him." I told them all and they nodded sympathetically.

Voight watched me for a second, obviously assessing my behaviour.

"You can stay on the case."

"Thank you..." I smiled but was interrupted by Voight again.

"If I see you so much as reach for your gun, without probable cause, you'll be suspended for a month, do you understand?" He threatened and I nodded.

"I swear, I won't reach for my gun." I told him hands up. He nodded and walked off, leaving a smirking Antonio looking between Jay and I.

"So, Voight said relationship, I guess S/N is real huh?" He asked eye brow raised. I rolled my eyes and walked off, out of the bullpen.

"Adam is a dead man." I called behind me making Dawson and Jay laughed.

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cruezins · 4 years

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☣ ; ( KIM TAEHYUNG , 24 , HE/HIM ) coming up next on rebel radio is OPAUL by FREDDIE DREDD . this tune goes out to SIWON RYU . rumor has it they just rolled into town and are fightin’ for the GHOULS . they’re AFFABLE , INQUISITIVE but also AIMLESS , MERCURIAL so watch your backs out there . we wish them the best of luck here in our golded city of light . stay vigilant , stay dirty rock ‘n rollers and we’ll catch you for the next one .

𝐎𝐎𝐂 : hello ! i’m deni and i don’t know what editing is . i use she/her pronouns and live in the gmt+9 timezone . i’m terrible with ooc chats and half the time just want to vibe a connection or plot idea , so please don’t hesitate to throw a half-formed thought at me because i swear i’ll do the same . my discord is gay fairy#6371 . anyway , here is siwon , someone i’ve been work-shopping for a while ! looking forward to writing with you ♡

☣ ; 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇 .

cw : drug mentions ; stop me if you’ve heard this one before------

his dad’s a junkie and he hasn’t seen his mom since some fatcats bought their restaurant for a steal a few years before , but that’s the way of life for a lot of people in the underground . young , bored , and desperate to hear and smell anything that wasn’t the rottenness of his own childhood home , siwon found himself on the streets more nights than not , spray paint in one hand , painting nights in greens and purples until reds and blues chased him away . makes his first steal before he can tie his shoes . creates alliances with the neighborhood kids , sneaks around to watch how the haves live with their pretty , pretty screens and their ugly , ugly words . school isn’t anything special , either , and while siwon can’t remember shit that he reads from a page he can work with his hands�� . fast and efficient , nimble fingers whether they’re flying across a keyboard or fucking around with some screws . you can make something of yourself , some of his teachers tell him while others can’t stop bitching about homework or tardiness or the way he falls asleep in the middle of class . but what’s siwon supposed to make ? he and his ragtag group of weirdos he calls friends . when he gets older and nights get hungrier , siwon learns to stop relying on the benevolence of neighbors and finds a job --- he’s fast , after all , with a sweet face and wide eyes , makes a helluva getaway after years and years of running .

thieving’s a natural grift . he’d been training for this his whole life . then he catches the eyes of a boss man who isn’t nearly as mad as he should be catching some kid with his wallet in his hands . courier comes next , ferrying messages from a bunch of suits all over the city . siwon never opened the packages , never second guesses the credits that start bloating his account . desperate , he does what he’s told and does it well ------ and that’s the real kicker , isn’t it ? that after a year and some-odd months of dedicated service they leave him high and dry with some bullshit he doesn’t have any involvement with . after years of running , boys in blue finally catch him and he’s left to take the fall of some dumb fuckery , man , and he’s pissed . steaming in jail , it’s a wonder some other gang didn’t get to him first . the longer he sat and talked with that ghoul member , the more he grew to despise the rich , the ones who left him to rot after all the shit he did for them . what was even the point anymore ? dog eat dog kind of bullshit , no sense of loyalty or shit anywhere . the law and all that money was out to get him from the beginning and siwon had enough of it . a few months locked up but he learned and leaned and learned , only able to get out on a technicality . the second he stepped back out into the sun , siwon followed the map given to him and signed up for the ghouls . city of light be damned . the only lights he wants to see are flames eating this hellhole alive .

☣ ; 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 .

➤ full name. ryu si-won ➤ date of birth. january 29th ➤ hometown. city of light ➤ gender. cis male ➤ affiliation. ghouls ➤ primary occupation. drug runner , pickpocket ➤ secondary occupation. network manager at an internet cafe

➤ sexual attraction. pansexual ➤ romantic attraction. panromantic ➤ character alignment. chaotic neutral ➤ personality type. enfp ➤ temperament. sanguine ➤ wants. power , family

stands around 5′11 . broad shoulders , slim hips . floppy , messy hair and sun browned skin . half legs . a few pieces of silver in his ears and a small hoop on his bottom lip . dresses somewhere between a washed up rockstar , your college weed dealer , and a miami vice reject . style’s a whim with a closet’s chaotic mix of anything he thrifts or patches together . most of the time he’s sporting cuffed jeans , vintage blouse , a denim jacket or tweed blazer and thick ass boots . keeps all that hair back with a bandanna or a headband , hair ties on his wrist . nothing in his closet’s technically new and he loves looking for a bargain steal —— or simply just a steal . likes colors just as much as he likes his neutrals . wears a black air filtration mask and fingerless gloves . considers his floral button-up shirts fancy material and his trousers cut off at the ankles . likes the smell of old leather and the breathing of fringe on a jacket , the weight of heavy rings on his fingers and sunglasses swooped low on his nose . wears a monocle because he can’t be fucked with reading glasses . his hair’s been every color of the rainbow and he’s always changing it up thanks to temporary dye .

☣ ; 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 .

hustles at arcade halls , scarfs down ramen and burritos like they’re gonna disappear , looks as comfortable in a dark , dirty alley as he does standing under all those lights in the neon district . pockets full of candy and a lollipop between his lips . likes cheap beer and cigarettes , fast talking and smooth smiles . gets up when the sun goes down . who knows if he ever gets a full night’s sleep , but you can find him taking a nap just about anywhere . seems to live for the dark hours and stays busy as a bee , at the internet cafe one moment and grabbing fried cheese sticks in the next before crossing the bridge to watch the street races and venturing to the tunnels for the fighting rings . complains about being broke but puts down bets faster than anyone . lives for the feeling of wind in his hair so the window of his top-floor one bedroom shit hole stays open all the time . feels the rain on his skin , plays with matches . learned how to assemble a gun in less than sixty seconds and stays packing nowadays though he can’t really shoot for shit . spray paints boobs on the sides of government buildings and dicks on malls . looks like an angel under all those holographic lights .

rides a motorbike and his skateboard . can do crazy math in his head and spot fake bills with incredible accuracy . can barely stand to sit still , always moving except when there’s a computer screen in front of him . gets addicted to things so easily it’s scary --- people , food , liquor , feelings . craves that intimacy , craves that closeness that’s always been denied to him . has a loud as fuck laugh and a love for sneaking into places where he doesn’t belong . catches extra cash on the side by fixing up broken-down machines and can figure his way around a motor with a bit of elbow grease . still sees his family . not as much as a good son would , but he sends cash when he can and looks after his younger sister , makes sure she stays well and clean . they don’t know half of what he’s gotten up to since he was let out of prison , but they might have some idea --- after all , who’d pay a crooked boy with a record as well as he seems to be ? when the sun starts to come up and he crashes into bed , siwon stares out the window and thinks about how in another world , or in another time he probably could’ve been something . could’ve made something great . but for now he’s just got a whole lot of anger , raw like a fresh wound he can’t stop picking at .

☣ ; 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ?

➤ bonds. my loyalty to my friends is unwavering ; i owe everything to my mentor --- a horrible person who’s rotting in jail somewhere ; i fleeced the wrong person and must work to ensure this individual never crosses paths with me . ➤ flaws. once i pick a goal , i become obsessed with it to the detriment of everything else in my life ; when I see something valuable , i can't think about anything but how to steal it ; i have a weakness for the vices of the city .

he’s friendly , but he doesn’t make friends easily --- the ones that he has made , he’d do anything for . because that’s how he’s gotten this far , right ? all those people who looked after him when others tried to stomp him out . he’s still close with his teen friends who threw a few grifts with him , gaming buddies that he knows only through a screen . little escapes from all the other bullshit going on in the world . even though he isn’t a club guy , he runs into more than a few faces on his rounds . maybe they’re bad influences or sweethearts who help that touch starved affliction that comes from living in a city so wired . on the flip side , there’s some enemies --- competitors in the runner world , antagonists he meets at the races or rings for whatever reason ( insane bets make tempers run hot , who knows when they’ll flare for good and siwon’s learning the hard way how to keep his mouth shut ) . he’s fixed up a few cars or weapons for people recently because he misses working with his hands . y’know , making nice . then there’s people he’s caught in a crossfire with , where they’ve met something nasty one too many times before over turf , territory and clients . a newer face to the ghouls , he’s bugged someone into mentoring him , and gone on a few runs with someone he loves to call a coworker .

eager to prove himself as more than a green kid with a keyboard and an eye for detail , find him cutting deals and making trades in smokey barbecue houses , hole-in-the wall ramen shops or by taco tents . a full bellied class of clients are happy clients in his opinion , and siwon isn’t above not making deals with the other groups who’s names aren’t violent delights . speaking of which --- there are definitely some skeletons there he aims to confront , some old demons to fight from that class of people that fucked him over . there’s an ex lover in there somewhere , probably met in that pre-prison childhood phase when he mingled past class lines more ( ~1.5-2 years ago ) . someone he’s healthily fearful of for whatever reason , and maybe a vendetta against the family that scammed his parents out of their business and basically sent his life spiraling . there’s someone who isn’t what they seem --- he doesn’t know who they really are , and maybe they don’t know who he is , either . they’ll learn eventually . someone he’s protective over , someone who protects him in ways he doesn’t even know , and those he looks after because they grew up on the same side . desperate for connection , desperate for a place , he finds it all in heaven and hell .

#neongraves:intro #. 𝐒𝐈𝐖𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐘𝐔 ➤ DEVELOPMENT .#this is A Lot #but i had so many notes for myself #let's see how this pans #chaos reigns always

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dr0wning-in-hell · 5 years

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Till You Go Nuts - Cisco Ramon

Summary : Y/N decided to tease her boyfriend at work by wearing her most revealing outfit and doing the most subtle things ever. By the end of the day, she’s given what she was craving for all day.

Word Count : 2.9k +

Warnings : smuuuttt, teasing, flustered!cisco, thigh riding, dry humping, fingering, oral, cursing, loottsss of dirty talk from both parties, just smut really

Pairing / Characters : Cisco Ramon x reader, Barry Allen, Caitlyn Snow, Iris West-Allen, Ralph

Prompt : “Okay Swoon killed me. Please forgive me but could we get another nsfw Cisco?? Like, maybe the readers teasing him all day at Star Labs in subtle ways but it drives him NUTS so he breached her home to be all dominating?? Ashdjgikrn im sorry I just loved your other fic and it made this pop into my head!! Tysm!” - anon

A/N : I had to rewrite this three times bc I’m stupid and accidentally deleted twice. :( but here it is, enjoy :)

new masterlist | requests | prompt list

Y/N woke up with a master plan on getting herself laid that day. No, it wasn’t going to be just by anyone, but by her long term boyfriend Cisco Ramon. He had teased her the week before with subtle ass grabbing and occasional slip ups of some things that only she would know about, leaving her flustered and angry for the rest of the day. Today it was her turn to get her revenge.

She started off with a shower, using Cisco’s favorite smelling shampoo and body wash to get the show on the roll. After that she dressed herself in a leather skirt, paired with low cut band t-shirt that showed just a little too much cleavage. To finish the look off she slid on a leather jacket and some heels. Once she thought her outfit was finished she headed to S.T.A.R. Labs. Upon walking into the Cortex she sprayed Cisco’s favorite perfume all over herself.

When the elevator door opened she strode into the Cortex, the sound of her heels clicking against the tiled floor grabbing everyone’s attention. Cisco turned around, his jaw dropping to the ground at the sight of his stunning girlfriend.

“Wow Y/N, trying to outdress us much?” Iris teased. Y/N shrugged, a smirk growing across her lips. From the corner of her eye she could see Cisco gawking over her.

“Well you’re just on time, we were just talking about our newest enemy.” Caitlyn began to explain the situation to her, Y/N, still going on with her plan now leaning over the desk and giving not only Cisco, but the newest member Ralph, a show. When Cisco caught Ralph looking down his girlfriend’s shirt he made sure to point it out.

“Stop starring down my girlfriend’s shirt, Dipney.” Cisco growled. The way Cisco was becoming possessive over Y/N turned her on more than it should have, but she couldn’t help that fire in the pit of her stomach when he acted like that.

When Barry and Ralph left to go fight their newest enemy, Y/N got extra close to Cisco as he talked to Barry through the coms. Y/N would lean in from behind him and place chaste kisses on the back of his neck when she knew Iris and Caitlyn were too busy focusing on the situation at hand. Cisco tried to his best to ignore his girlfriend, but with the way she was dressed and the small kisses it was getting harder and harder to ignore her.

“Cisco! Cisco are you even there?” Barry yelled through the coms.

Cisco shook his head from his thoughts and replied to the hero, leaving Y/N smirking behind him. Her plan was working just like she wanted it to. She was sure that within maybe two or three hours tops Cisco would be putty in her hands.

Barry and Ralph got back to S.T.A.R. Labs moments later, exhausted from the fight. They hadn’t apprehended the enemy, leaving them a little anxious and angry.

“He’ll show up again, don’t stress about it. For now, you all need to get to work, Cisco and I can stay here.” Y/N said, patting Ralph on the shoulder and then looking back at her boyfriend with a certain gleam in her eye. “Right, Cisco.”

The meta human contained himself, only barely though and nodded at his girlfriend. “Yeah, right. We can stay back in case anything happens or this guy shows up again.” The rest of the team agreed and left to go to their separate jobs. Once everyone was gone Cisco shot a glare in Y/N’s direction. “What was all that earlier? Teasing me while Barry and Ralph were on a mission?” He growled. Cisco got up and walked over to Y/N who was waiting patiently at one of the desks.

“Whatever are you talking about, my love?” Y/N smirked, “I wasn’t teasing you.”

Cisco’s hands gripped his girlfriend’s waist, pulling her closer to him. He just wanted to feel her skin, feel her against him, and she wanted the exact same thing. The meta human’s knew separated Y/N’s, placing his thigh under her cunt. Y/N was desperate for any type of contact with Cisco, so when he started grinding her hips down onto his clothed thigh she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips.

“Think you can get away with teasing me like that? What if Iris or Caitlyn saw what you were up to, huh? What would you have done then?” Cisco was moving her hips faster now, pressing her clothed clit harder against his thigh. Y/N moaned loudly, head tilting back. “That’s not an answer, baby, what would you have done if they caught you?”

“I- I would have continued.” Y?N let out breathlessly, “I would have kept going.” Y/N was losing her leverage against Cisco, she had to get the game back in her control. Even though she didn’t want to, Y/N pushed herself off of Cisco’s thigh and away from him. “I’m not done teasing you yet, I’m gonna tease you till you go nuts. Till you can’t help it anymore, not being able to touch me, not being able to have my pussy wrapped around your cock. Baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.” With that she wondered off, leaving Cisco standing there with his mouth wide open, a wet spot on his pants from where her soaking cunt was pressed against him, and a raging boner.

Y/N was not seen for another hour, she had started working on something in Cisco’s lab, a project they had been neglecting for a while now. Cisco went to his lab looking for her, and was happy when he saw her working on their project. “Damnit!” Y/N said angrily as she threw a piece of metal across the room.

“Hey, no throwing stuff in my lab.” Cisco teased. He never liked people throwing things in his lab, but Y?N was usually en exception to that. “What’s the problem?” He asked as he walked to his girlfriend.

“You know that piece we found the other day that we thought would fit into the machine? Yeah, doesn’t fit.” Y/N put her head in her hands, “I don’t think we’ll ever get this done.” She mumbled.

Cisco rubbed Y/N’s back, trying to get her to calm down or relieve some stress. “We’ll get it done babe, it’s just gonna take longer than we thought it would.” Y/N nodded and got up from the stool and went to grab the piece that she had thrown across the room. Smirking, she bent over, her skirt rising and showing off her electric blue, lacy panties. She heard Cisco groan behind her, then the scrape of the metal stool against the concrete floor.

Y/N was pulled upwards, her ass colliding with Cisco’s evident bulge. “I think I’ve had enough of your teasing, princess.” Cisco’s hands were everywhere, Y/N’s throat, her chest, her stomach, her legs, everywhere except where she needed him most.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” Cisco smirked, one hand leaving Y/N and reaching out to create a breach.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Cisco pulled Y/N through the breach that landed them straight into their bedroom. “Now baby, you are going to follow all of my rules, my commands, and if you disobey me at any time you’ll be punished. Am I making myself clear?” Y/N nodded furiously, her skin already heating up with he thoughts of Cisco may do to her if she disobeyed. In a way, she wanted to see what would happen. “Strip for me, love. Want to see what you’ve been wearing underneath this sexy outfit all day.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate to get herself undressed, leaving herself in the electric blue set of lingerie. The way Cisco’s eyes were raking up and down her body cause heat to flush her skin, and pool in her lower region. She felt so exposed to him like this even though they had had sex so many times before. This time she felt like the prey, while Cisco was the hunter about to get what he wanted

“So beautiful, and all for me.” Cisco stepped forward and stood in front of his lover, his hands reaching out to her hips and pulling her forward. His knee parted her legs as he seated her on his thigh. “You’re gonna ride my thigh until you cum, darling, want to see you get off on my thigh.” Y/N nodded and slowly started rocking her clothed core against the fabric of Cisco’s pants. The friction seemed to take forever to build up into something, but as soon as he started pushing her hips down onto his thigh harder it began to build up.

The moans flowing from Y/N’s mouth made Cisco’s cock strain against his trousers, making the pain he had already felt worsen. As Y/N rode his thigh and chased her first orgasm, Cisco began to rock his thigh up into cunt, his fingers bruising her hips as he gripped her to keep her in place.

“Ci-Cisco, baby I’m gonna cum.” Y/N whimpered, her hips stuttering against Cisco’s thigh. Once those words came from her mouth Cisco pulled Y/N from his thigh, and then pulled himself away from her. “What the hell?” Y/N screeched, her orgasm so close and now so far away.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, princess, just you wait,” Cisco stripped himself of his clothes, finally releasing the built up tension between his boxer briefs and his cock. “We’re gonna try something new, I want you to ride my face whilst sucking me off.” Y/N’s ears burned at the thought of Cisco eating the life out of her, while she gave him head.

Y/N watched as he laid back on the bed, pulling his hair from his face and then looking at Y/N to beckon her over. She crawled over to him, heart hammering in her chest. “Sit on my face baby, then turn around.” She did as told, positioning her dripping cunt over his lips and then turning around to face his erection. “So wet,” Cisco mumbled, his lips ghosted her parted lips sending chills down her spine. “Go ahead and get started baby.”

Dropping her head, Y/N licked at the tip, collecting the precum that was leaking from it, then slowly she began to ease her head down his length. The sudden connection of her warm mouth to his aching member caused Cisco to accidentally buck his hips up and force more of his cock down her throat. Y/N gagged, but stayed still and steady until she started bobbing her head. While she was sucking him off, Cisco had pulled her lace panties aside and was eating her pussy so right that she almost stopped breathing. His lips were sucking at her clit, flicking his tongue back and forth on the nub, then sliding it into her glistening hole. The sensation of the new angle was bringing Y/N back to the brink of her first orgasm. She was silently praying that he wouldn’t pull away again and leave her on the edge.

Cisco began to eat her out harder, basically shoving his face into her cunt. After a while he pushed two of his fingers into her pussy, causing a delicious moan to leave her mouth. “Mm, you like my fingers in your cunt, princess? You like my mouth on you while I fuck you with my fingers.” Cisco felt Y/N nod against his member, causing a weird, but delightful sensation to run through his body. He got back to work at her core, sucking at her clit while shoving his fingers in and out of her, occasionally curling them to hit a that one spot inside her that sent her hips bucking down onto this mouth.

Y/N pulled back from Cisco’s cock, a string of saliva following her plump lips. “Cisco, please let me cum, I need it, please.” She begged, her hand now jerking him off.

“Gonna cum in that pretty mouth of yours while cum on my lips, you got that?” Y/N nodded, placing her mouth back on his tip and hollowing out her cheeks as she began to suck him off harder. Cisco’s fingers moved faster and harder in her pussy until she was gripping his fingers and she was screaming against his dick. Cisco placed his lips at her entrance just in time to catch the sweetness that came from her as she let out her first orgasm. Her hips stuttered and bucked, moans fell from lips and were muffled as she still had her lips wrapped out his dick. Not long after Cisco came after her, hot strings of his seed spilling into her mouth and down her throat. When they had both come down from their highs, Y/N rolled off of him, chest heaving as she caught her breathe.

“Oh, don’t think I’m done with you yet, my love.” Cisco hummed, grabbing Y/N’s legs and gently dragging her across the bed to meet him. “You’re gonna get fucked so good.” The smirk on his face told Y/N not to doubt those words. Grabbing hold of his still hard cock, Cisco rubbed the tip through the folds of her pussy, collecting her juices and then pushing into her. The sudden stretch caused Y/N to let out a loud, high pitched moan. Every time Cisco entered her it was like the first time all over again. His thrusts started out slow and steady, moving Y/N leg’s over his shoulders for a better angle so he could hit every right spot inside her. Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched together and she shut her eyes, the pleasure so overwhelming it put her mind in a thick haze. Cisco grabbed hold of her chin, causing her eyes to open and look into his. “Look at me while I fuck, love, want to see every single part of you.” Y/N struggled but did as told, not once closing her eyes. Her eyes stayed connected to Cisco’s, making the moment even more intimate.

“Feels so good, fuck.” Y/N reached up behind her to grip the sheets, her hands clutching the fabric. The feeling of Cisco’s thick cock feeling her insides grew her closer to her second release, but she knew it wouldn’t be long until Cisco pulled out and found a new position to torture her with. She was right, just as close as she was the feeling was gone and before she could ask anything Cisco had laid behind her, hiking up a leg and putting it over his hips so he could easily slide his cock back into her. As soon as he did the pace was now hard and fast, moving Y/N with every thrust.

“Such a tight cunt, so perfect to fuck and fill. Love fucking you my love, all mine, all mine.” Cisco repeated as he continued his penetration into her soar center. Y/N clenched and unclenched her pussy around his dick, moaning louder and louder as she inched forward to her next release. “Gonna fill you up so nice with my cum, gonna make you full for days.” He growled into her ear, his lips ghosting down and sucking dark purple bruises onto her neck.

“Love your cum inside me, baby, feels so good.” Y/N mewled, throwing her head back. “Gonna cum again, fuck, make me cum.” Cisco grunted loudly, his hot breathe fanning Y/N’s skin as he fucked her until his hips stilled, slightly stuttering as he released his second load into her swollen pussy. The feeling of him pouring his seed into her pussy made her own release trigger, her ass pushing against his hips.

When Cisco knew their orgasms had ended he gently pulled out of Y/N’s pussy, their mix of cum sliding out of her stretched out hole and spilling down leg and onto the bed sheets.

Now too tired to move and clean themselves up, the two laid on the bed together, breathing heavily as the tangled their limbs together and dozed off into a peaceful sleep. They both knew though that when they woke up, the second round would begin.

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secretshinigami · 5 years

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Masterlist of Mello’s Birthday Bash Prompts

A compiled list of everyone’s prompts from the exchange – thank you for letting us post them, and we hope you guys enjoy them! Prompts are organized by their submitter, so be sure to give credit if you use one.

niastuki

near in a nice suit

near and light making out

Mikami and Light with their hair and suits wet sharing and umbrella

matsuda confronts near on with the theory he brings up at the end of the manga

exploring domestic life between near and light

misa amane being interviewed at some point after the time skip

theredtint

B with hanahaki disease

Kitsune!B

Ghost A (for my A go to pastreplacement, but it can be any A you like) & zombie!B

B&A bnha au, powers are up to you but anon me if you want my ideas

During Mello's and Near's generation A and B become ghost stories of Wammy House and Matt absolutely loves scaring the newbies with them

B learning about how his eyes work

kiranatrix

Light playing piano with Ryuk perched on top of the piano

L building a sandcastle at the beach

Venom-DN AU with Light in a symbiote costume (with Ryuk as the symbiote)

Light and L try to study together for a test at college but mostly just snark back and forth

The reason why Mello loves chocolate so much

Ryuk takes a day off and plays some pranks on the Kira HQ team to amuse himself

the-real-death-note-victim

L and Light wearing trans and/or nb merch

L or Near using a chewable stim toy

Light and ghost!L in any tender scene

An L/Wedy/Aiber date night

L/Light soulmate AU, any kind of delayed onset of them finding out they're each other's soulmate

Any masc character getting their first binder from a friend or partner

synapsi-s

A and B during Halloween night

Light and Sayu having a nice moment together

Young Mello celebrating his 13th birthday at the Wammy's

Naomi's (or L's) thoughts about the LABB case (after it was solved)

Mello and B encounter

Mello and Matt during their last day of life

izaori

Mello and L eating birthday cake, maybe wearing those fun party hats

Matsuda getting matching sweaters for the group but only Mogi wears one with him

Near making a snow angel

Screen reader support enabled.

The other second gens (Near, Matt, Linda, whoever) throwing Mello a surprise bday party

Light finding out Misa loves reptiles and she begs Light to let her get a big snake

Ryuk tries to get the other shinigami to celebrate Christmas because he wants free stuff

eyecicles

Near playing with some white bunnies

Near as a renaissance prince (would be cool if you could keep his colour palette!)

Gevanni in a bathrobe, drinking coffee or something & just chilling for once

Sidoh in a Santa hat, eating some chocolate and being happy

Light tries to teach an unwilling L how to ice skate

Near and Ryuk discussing Light after Light's death

B and Light playing tennis, but B is really bad at it and constantly tries to cheat

queer-of-the-blue-moon

Misa and Rem doing a little goth fashion show.

L dressed as Sherlock Holmes.

Matt and Mello smoking, talking, watching the rain through the window (cuddled up together in blankets with hot chocolate, possibly?)

A story of how Ryuuk summarizes his adventure with the human world in a poem, really dark poem, which he later declaims to the Shinigami King and the unnamed Shinigami.

Death Note x Death Parade crossover, about what actually happened to Light after his death.

AU where Light actually feels guilty when he's almost done with eliminating L, and overwhelmed, he hesitates which ruins his plans (but maybe it's better this way).

weneedtotalkaboutdeathnote

HDM/Daemon AU with BB and Misora (Raven for B, Black cat for Misora).

Anything Moonriver (Neax x Light) (doesn't have to be shippy).

Anything L x B (doesn't have to be shippy).

L can see ghosts, but he chooses to ignore them. This becomes increasingly had to do when B's spirit shows up during the Kira investigation.

Older Near introducing himself to potential successors.

Halle and Gevanni catch up for coffee and talk about life and the Kira case etc (post Kira).

silcnt-scul

Roillsh Downton Abbey AU with Quillsh being a lord and Roger his valet. If possible, it would be cool if they could be close in kind of an intimate way.

Mello sitting on a vape cloud that is being blown by Matt.

Wammy as a captain on a sailship, in a captain uniform and all. Bonus points for tiny L sitting on his shoulder like a parrot.

Roger and Quillsh swordfighting in full 1700s style with frockcoats and all.

Wammy's children Attack On Titan AU, maybe how they all lost their families to titans and joined the military?

Roillsh Age of Sail AU: Quillsh is the captain of a large ship, Roger is the first mate, and during one of their long journeys, one of them finally confesses(Maybe being under influence of too much whiskey?) which leads the other to confess. Something like that.

During the Kira case, Roger and Quillsh send each other lengthy letters(Love letters, perhaps?). After Quillsh's death, Roger finds one more letter that Quillsh set to be sent to him/found by him incase of the failure of Kira case.

almostsane-things

Body overgrown w flowers (extra points if flower choice has special meaning connected to the character)

Redesign DN characters in a wonderland/ looking glass environment

Mello w the prompt ‘Ghosts in our past’ (feel free to incorporate personal headcanons)

Gelus watching over Misa from the Shinigami realm

L’s first ongoing investigation

The story of how L found Wedy and/or Aiber

The Kira case from Sayu or Sachiko’s pov

misas-biggest-fan

light being tailed by l's ghost

naomi visiting beyond in prison

rem at one of misa's music concerts

kira!L goes up against detective!Light

Mello meets Beyond and discusses the LABB case

Misa starts to healthily process her trauma over her parents and leaves light

sstwins

Something angel themed with Mello ([not scar Mello... ahaha] or angel/devil Mello and Near... feel free to play with that idea)

Something with L and a great magnitude of sweets

L/Light art with the handcuffs (pretty and symbolic... you know, the whole stereotypical thing)

Anything involving any/all of the Wammy's Boys as kids!! Maybe studying or doing games or anything, really!

yeggami

Beyond Birthday and Light with some cats

Aiber, Wedy and L hanging out

Matt attempting to make a cake for Mello's birthday

B cosplays his favourite character

The X Files AU with L as Mulder and Light as Scully

AU where A doesn't die

Something angsty with Light x B !!

my-doodles-xd

Lawlight sleeping together (in the yotsuba arc)

Misa,L and Light in the amusement park because why not

L and Sayu seeing ryuk for the first time

Near and Mello (both adults) seeing L for the first time

Light x Misa in the amusement park

Lawlight on a date in the pastry shop (i like top light yagami btw)

A fanfic where the investigators (L,Light,Soichiro,Matsuda,etc.Misa counts too) has 1 week free from work,so they can focus on other things

complicatedmerary

Light and Takada dressed as Kimye

Sayu and Sachiko having a girl’s night

Mello and his secret hobby (can be anything, I want to be surprised)

Halle and Mello having a deep conversation about their future

Mello’s backstory before Wammys

Misa pretending to date Hideki Ryuga for the tabloids even though she would rather not

jk-iconoclast

Matt wrapped as gift for Mello

Near and Matt celebrating Mello’s birthday

Mello is alone on his birthday and is sad/cries

After Mello left Wammy's, he's spending his birthday alone

Near reflects about Mello, silently honouring his first birthday after his death

Matt or Near (or both) surprising Mello on his birthday

ginogollum

DN characters with steampunk outfits

A coffeee shop AU

Mello and Near on Mello's motocycle

AU where Mello and Near work together as L

How I met your mother AU (I love mello/near but any ship is fine)

L survives, he has no longer the need for successors. What do they do with their life?

puropoly

beyond birthday listening/singing oingo boingo tracks

near, mello and matt playing videogames

A and B watching bad horror movies (I don't know if asking for OCs is permitted by the rules, in case it isn't just draw your own idea of A, that's fine! but if it's possible to draw my ver of A (you can check her in my art tag) I'd pretty much roll on the floor in joy :'] )

B and L have tea together in an abandoned house B is currently living in (you can take this in any direction, my main idea is them reflecting abt the past at wammy's in their own melancholic and cynical way)

B and A hanging out at the city, doing normal teen stuff, trying not to worry about their lives at Wammy's and just having fun together

A Near's Normal Day at the SPK (you know, like in that comic Obata drew for the DN movie I think, where they show a normal day of L's life) (please don't put Near in a washing machine LDGJSD)

yagami-raito-kun

Young teenage Light excitedly showing his father his tennis trophy

Light and Sayu doing cute, sibling-ish activities

Light haunting Near as a ghost

AU where Wammy’s House is an X-Men-style school for mutants and the Kiras are supervillains

Light and Sayu doing cute, sibling-ish activities

Light haunting Near as a ghost

Anonymous Prompts

Ryuk tries to intimidate Mello.

Near visits Beyond in his prison cell.

Wammy's house boys band (just so you know I'm picturing Mello as full goth rocker here)

Mello haunts Near from beyond the grave.

Sayu finds the notebook without exploding the drawer.

After Light's death, Misa takes Matsuda on a mutual pity date.

Mello in a witch outfit

Beyond Birthday and Naomi Misora bonding time

Near and toys

Mello and the flag of the gender and-or orientation of your choice (not straight or cis please)

Your hc on what A looks like (bonus points if they're not a cis man)

Mello and a ghost au (anyone can be the ghost)

We hate each other but apparently our teachers ship us and make us partner up all the time and sit next to each other and for the love of God if you don’t shut your mouth I’m gonna shove you on the desk and snog the hell out of you with L and Light or Near and Mello and Matt

Near and Misa keep in touch after Light's death, though not on really friendly terms, until Misa's suicide

Mello and gender exploration (make up, clothes, trans stuff)

Beyond birthday and A at Wammy's house doing kid stuff and crapping on L's legacy

mello in fishnets !! or some other cool outfit

some soft meronia

mello in an oversized hoodie

meronia yuri on ice style ice skating au

any soft meronia

what were things like for mello after he left wammys?

Remisa Dinner Date

Takada/Lidner Takada flirting with flustered Lidner

Misa and L going clothes shopping

Remisa Human AU Rem nervous on a first date

L and Misa discuss fashion and makeup trends, to Light's dismay

Lidner worries her feelings for Takada could compromise her mission

Mello and/or Matt comforting Sayu during her kidnapping (can be shippy or non-shippy).

Any of the following pairings sharing a bubble bath: Mello/Matt, Mello/Near, Matt/Near, Mello/Matt/Near, L/Light, Hal/Mello.

Beyond Birthday dressed as Winnie the Pooh and eating jam out of a honey-pot.

Mello and/or Matt comforting Sayu during her kidnapping (can be shippy or non-shippy).

Super fluffy sick-fic with any of the following pairings: Mello/Near, Mello/Matt, Matt/Near, Mello/Matt/Near.

Mello & Matt survive. I don't care how, as long as they're alive & (more or less) happy (can be shippy or non-shippy); would also prefer if Near is somehow involved too.

#prompt list #death note #deathnote #mello's birthday bash 2018

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5typesoftrash · 4 years

Text

Inhibitions - Chapter 7

Author: quicksilvermalec Artist: starfleetcadet1 Rating: M for swearing, mature themes, and minor sexual content Pairings: Sastiel, Castiel/Ezekiel, Castiel/Crowley Warnings: Rape/Non-Con (mentioned) Brief Tags: Angst, Pining, Drug Use, Minor Character Death Summary: So Castiel isn't the most - moral? Conventional? Call it what you like - attorney, but fuck if he isn't one of the best in the state of California. He's gone up against lawyers from all over and only lost a handful of cases in twenty years. So when a young up-and-comer beat him in a case he should have bagged, of course he was interested. But he wasn't expecting this.

[longer tags, link to art post, and fic under the cut]

Extended Tags: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No supernatural, Alternate Universe - No Angels, Alternate Universe, lawyer AU, Lawyer Sam Winchester, Lawyer Castiel, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied Sexual Content, minor explicit sexual content, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Minor Character Death, Offscreen character death, Getting Together, Getting Back Together, Falling In Love, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, First Kiss, First Time, breaking up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Betrayal, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Grief, Trauma, Negative Religious Experiences, Religious Sam Winchester, Mentions of Corrective Rape, Gay Castiel, Pansexual Sam Winchester, Pansexual Gabriel, Black Lives Matter, Protests, Pining, Mutual Pining, Age Difference, Widowed Castiel, Sad Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Endverse Castiel - Freeform, Sad Sam Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Good Brother Gabriel, Protective Gabriel, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, POV Castiel, Castiel is a Novak (Supernatural), this story is all over the fuckin place, kind of a wild ride with plenty of twists, enjoy!!

Have a link to the art and you can read this story on AO3 as well! 🧡

“Castiel!” Michael calls across the office floor. Castiel looks up from his papers. “You’re going back into the courtroom.” His brother drops a clip of loose-leaf paper on the desk next to him. “Read up. We need you on this case.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “What’s the turnaround?”

“Thursday,” Michael informs him.

Castiel hisses through his teeth; four days isn’t a lot of time to familiarize himself with the case and Michael knows this; what’s his play? “Who’s the defense?” he inquires.

Michael shakes his head. “I’ll tell you, but you aren’t gonna like it.”

Castiel is instantly on edge. Zachariah? Naomi? Metatron? A few names flash across his mind as he speaks – “I didn’t like Thursday, so give it to me straight, I’m sure I can handle it” – but he never even considers…

“Sam Winchester.”

Idiot, Castiel, he berates himself harshly. Goddamn motherfucking absolute idiot. Stupid stupid stupid stupid—

He sighs. “And I suppose this is an order, not a request?”

Michael purses his lips. “I wouldn’t phrase it quite like that, but no, you don’t have any choice in this assignment.”

Castiel just nods. “Thank you, sir. I need time to work now.”

Michael takes that for the dismissal that it so clearly is and steps away from his desk before disappearing down the hall. Castiel hangs his head limply from his shoulders for several minutes before forcing himself to sit up and examine these new papers he’s been given.

Rape case. Rape cases are tricky, especially as the prosecution of a man. And a cis white man at that. He has a feeling that Sam doesn’t particularly want to take this man’s defense, but as he has indicated many times, defending black youth at a flat rate of no charge doesn’t put food on the table or keep a roof over his head; he’ll have to make some concessions.

Castiel puts together the best case he can with the time and information that he has and prepares to enter the courtroom on Thursday.

He truly didn’t expect his world to be rocked so when he saw Sam again.

But here he is, staring at him pathetically from the other side of the courtroom. The first time they make eye contact, Castiel grins at him like an idiot and Sam looks away immediately. Castiel’s heart sinks into his stomach as he remembers Sam may never forgive him. From Sam’s point of view, Castiel was lying to and manipulating him the entire time. He can’t even know whether Castiel was actually attracted to him or if he was simply trying to get Sam to open up.

Castiel knows the feeling, and he hates being the reason Sam has to feel it.

He can’t talk to his friend – if they even qualify as such anymore – about it because he knows Sam will shut him down. He can’t apologize. He can’t explain. He must live and suffer in silence with the consequences of his decisions.

This is what he deserves for thinking he could replace Ezekiel.

“You weren’t trying to replace him, you were trying to move on from him.”

Gabriel does make an excellent point.

Not trying to replace him, but trying to move on from him. Using Sam as an attempt to heal, to repair, to perhaps become whole again after being rent so from himself for so many long years.

Not that it matters; he was still using Sam. Sam is right to think him manipulative and cruel; he is. He does not deserve the pure, loving goodness that is Sam Winchester.

He will never deserve another good thing.

He voices this thought to his brother, and Gabriel sighs, shaking his head. “Cassie,” he says. “You give yourself too much credit for all the wrong things.”

In later years, he’ll tell Castiel that he thinks that’s the first time anyone has voiced that particular concept in a way that got through to him. He’ll explain that something appeared in Castiel’s eyes, a sort of spark – call it hope, or life, or a lifting of responsibility – that had been rekindled for the first time in two decades. But now, not knowing any of that, Castiel responds the way he knows how.

Which is to say, he lights a blunt, pours a mug of tea, and doesn’t respond.

Gabriel pulls him into a hug, however, and Castiel’s eyes water. “I love you so very, very much,” he gasps. Gabriel nods sympathetically and kisses his hair.

“I know, Cassie. Believe me, I know.”

They stay there together for a long while, and Gabriel doesn’t allow Castiel to feel bad for needing help.

Four days after the case concludes, Castiel wakes up to… quite the surprise.

1 new voicemail – Sam Winchester

He bites his bottom lip as his finger hovers over the delete button, but in a moment of weakness he presses play instead.

“H- hey Castiel. Cazzzzzztieeeeeeeeel. Heh heh. I like your name.”

Sam is drunk.

Amazing. Sam drunk-dialed him to tell him his name is nice.

“Iz preeeeeeeetty. You’re pretty. Your stupid… jerk face with your jerk eye blues- uhh… blue eyes and your jerk pretty lips. Stupid pretty gorgeous funny talented sexy lawyer-types.”

Castiel’s eyebrows are practically knitting themselves together. What is going on?

“I’m an idiot, Castiel. I such… I’m such an idiot… for loving in- for falling in love with you. Wasn’t supposed to, that was such a… such a dick move. But you know what was a bigger… dickier move? You, you, you- you knew how I felt… and you slept with me anyway. What’m I, just a… night-one… one-night stand to you?”

“No…” Castiel whispers, despite knowing that Sam can’t hear him. “I wanted you forever.”

“You should… you should come back.” Sam laughs here, like he’s told himself a joke no one else would get. “If you walked… into my firm and me- and told me you still wanted me I’d be too dumb to refuse. I’d follow you anywhere… even to my own doom.”

Suddenly, his voice gets very loud. “DOOM!” he yells, causing Castiel to flinch, and in the background there are mouth-made explosion effects. So Sam wasn’t alone when he sent this. “That’s where you’re leading me Caz-tee-el. Gonna doom. Gonna… gonna… gonna… gonna die. Gonna die for you. Gonna die loving you, you… stupid beautiful angel of a man.”

Castiel’s phone falls to the floor as he drops his head into his hands. Sam’s voice is hushed as he says his last nine words.

“I wish I didn’t love you like it hurt.”

There’s a rustling sound on the other end, followed by inaudible shouting, then a click. And silence.

“Sam,” Castiel sobs. “I’m so, so sorry Sam. I didn’t want to hurt you this way.”

It takes a few more seconds for the content of the voicemail to catch up with him and then the realization washes over him all at once, unflinching and merciless as an ice-cold shower in the middle of January. Sam loves him.

Sam loves him. Sam still wants him.

Could Sam forgive him? Could Sam ever let go of the things he’s done?

Cas pulls his pillow into his chest, sobs into it for a while. He punches a hole in the plaster of his wall – there goes the deposit – and manages to crawl his way downstairs to drink a mug of tea and contemplate the horribly monumental cacophony of poor life choices that led him to this moment, sitting in his kitchen wearing nothing but boxers and a pair of socks, drinking tea, contemplating his life choices.

He sighs and slumps into a chair, finishes his tea in one long gulp, and then reaches for his blunt. He sticks it between his teeth and he’s seconds from lighting it when Sam’s words ring in his ears.

Get clean, Castiel.

The memory of the resigned look on Sam’s face is bad enough, but the quietly disappointed tone of voice Sam used is what shoves him over the edge. He flips his lighter closed and sets it on the table, then pulls the roll of paper out from between his teeth and flicks it across the room with two fingers. It skitters across the floor and comes to rest under a cabinet.

Gabriel, I’m going to rehab, he thinks to himself, and he imagines he can hear his brother’s response.

I’m so proud of you, Cassie.

He smiles softly.

Maybe he can turn some things around, with or without Sam.

July 29, 2020 - 18:32 From: Sam Winchester ([email protected]) To: Castiel Novak ([email protected])

Sincerest Apologies

Castiel,

When I came to the other day and discovered the voicemail that I had left for you, I was appalled at myself. I would like you to know that anything I may have said in that message I said in error; I was grieving and impaired and I should not have done what I did. I will refrain from contacting you in the future. I promise that this was an isolated incident that will not be repeated.

Many thanks, Sam Winchester, SJD (he/him) Sam Winchester Law Firm www.samwlaw.com

It’s mid-August when Castiel sees Sam again. He discovers that Sam’s brother Dean frequents a bar that he likes to attend, and one boring evening discovers the two of them sitting at a table not far from his own barstool, conversing in low tones. He watches them with a mixture of apprehension and fondness. He misses having that closeness with Sam.

Then Sam’s eyes flick up and meet his, and surprise makes itself evident on his face. He quickly replaces it with his carefully calculated emotionless mask and turns back to his brother, obviously pretending – whether for Castiel’s sake or his own – not to have noticed Castiel’s presence there at all.

So Castiel does something rash, impulsive, and incredibly fucking stupid; he walks over to Sam’s table and rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Hello, Sam,” he murmurs in his deep, gravelly whisper. Sam purses his lips and looks up.

“Castiel,” he greets formally. “Please leave, we were having a private conversation.”

“Sam, I—”

“I asked you to go,” Sam says again, his eyes narrowing and his voice sharpening. “If you want to preserve any shred of the relationship we used to have, I recommend you do as I asked.”

Castiel steps back, accepting that for the well-deserved reprimand it is. “I am sorry, Sam,” he sighs. “I just wanted to tell you that… I love you too.”

He turns away and walks out of the bar, back toward his car, toward his home, toward the comfort and safety of the world he’s known for so many years and the boundaries he’s never allowed himself to leave for exactly this reason—

A hand falls onto his shoulder this time, and pulls him around forcefully.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Sam demands, staring him down. Behind him, Cas can see Dean silhouetted in the doorway, paying for their drinks.

“Home,” he replies. “You asked me to leave.”

“No, no, no,” Sam says. “You can’t just— you can’t say something like that and walk away, that’s not fair, Castiel!”

Cas sucks air in through his teeth in preparation before he launches into a tirade he didn’t know he had in him. All the anger and guilt and blame he’s been transforming, redirecting to himself for the last few weeks because Sam can’t have done anything wrong comes flooding out of him all at once. “And I suppose you’ve been entirely fair to me? Cutting me off, never giving me a chance to explain or to defend myself? I suppose it’s completely fair to toy with me, to never be quite clear enough about how you feel for me to be honest about how I do? All of that is perfectly fair and kind and good, isn’t it?”

Sam stares at him. “Cas, I— no, that’s not it at all!”

“Then what is it, Sam?” Cas snaps. “Please, tell me, I would love to know.”

Instead of retreating like Cas expected, Sam seems to get angrier. He’s fired up now, and nothing’s going to stop him until this runs its course; that much is crystal clear to Cas.

“Look, Cas, this isn’t your fantasy world where you can control all the pieces and make them exactly like you want!” he yells. His eyes appear nearly yellow in the dark of the cloudless night sky that shrouds them, obscuring them from the rest of the world in deep blue mist. “This is real life, and real people have real feelings and react in real ways that you can’t predict and your real actions have real consequences so stop acting like you’re blameless!”

“I have done nothing to indicate that I am blameless,” Castiel contradicts. “I have spent every day since you left me drowning in my own guilt over this. I didn’t want to hurt you, Sam, I have very real feelings for you. I want you always to be safe and happy and loved and protected. I want you to know that you belong to yourself and that I will never try to take your autonomy from you. I wanted to believe that you understood me like no one ever did, save Ezekiel, but—”

“I’m not Ezekiel!” Sam sobs. “I’m not him, okay, so stop comparing me to him.”

Castiel sighs. “Goodbye, Sam,” he whispers, and then he slides into his car and slams the door shut. He bangs the heels of his hands on his steering wheel in frustration.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he shouts, collapsing forward onto the horn.

He stays there until long after the sun comes up.

“Hello, this is Castiel with Novak Represents. Who am I speaking with, please?”

“Wait, what did you mean by too?”

“Play it again.”

Sam Winchester is sitting in Castiel’s living room, staring resolutely at the black screen of the inactive television with his palms pressed together, lips pursed, elbows resting on his knees.

“Sam, you’ve heard it six times. You know what you said, what more do you need?” Castiel sighs exasperatedly.

“I just need you to play it one more time to pinpoint the person who’s doing an impression of me so I can track them down and murder them,” Sam says casually. Castiel rolls his eyes.

“Samuel Winchester, you are a lawyer. I sincerely doubt that that would go over well in a court of law. And besides, this is not someone doing an impression, this was you.”

“How would you know?” Sam asks with just a touch of bitterness in his voice. “You barely know me.”

Castiel rolls his eyes again. “Because Dean was with you when this happened and he confirmed that you said all of these things.”

Sam inhales deeply, exhales slowly, and slumps into a chair.

“I don’t want that to be me,” he says after a long silence, looking out the window to avoid seeing his friend’s face, “because then I have to deal with your response to that. And I don’t want to see it.”

Castiel walks over to him and kneels in front of him. “Sam,” he murmurs. “Did you mean anything you said in that email? Would you, sober you, actually think any of those things?”

Sam shakes his head, closing his eyes against the onslaught of Castiel’s pleading blue eyes. Finally, a single word falls from his lips, followed by a lengthy confession. “Yes,” he breathes. “Yeah, Cas, I’m in love with you, and I think you’re amazing and gorgeous and perfect and I want to be with you forever but you hurt me so much and I’m so stupid because I let you take advantage of me just like everyone else does and I thought you were better, I thought you were different than the other people, but you aren’t really, you’re just… better at hiding it. And it stings, thinking about you, thinking about how close I let you and how easily, and how badly I wanted because fuck, Cas, I wanted it. I still do, I still want you, I would fall back into your arms right this second if you asked me to which is why I’ve stayed away. You hurt me. I keep having to remind myself that. You hurt me…”

Castiel gently places a hand on Sam’s knee. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he breathes, and he feels tears burning the back of his throat. “I didn’t want to hut you, Sam, I wanted nothing more than to make you happy. I could’ve— I should’ve done better by you, I’m so so sorry. I just want—”

And the tears make their grand entrance, spilling silently down his cheeks, choking up his sentences as his voice thickens with emotion. “I want to start over,” he gasps. “Can we start over, Sam? Can you give me another shot at your heart?”

Sam looks at him stone-facedly for a long time, and with each moment that passes his heart sinks lower in his chest until it comes to rest in the pit of his stomach, a heavy weight like lead. Sam won’t forgive him, he thinks. This will be the end of his second great romance. Maybe a guy like Castiel just isn’t made for romance; perhaps his calling is drugs.

Then Sam nods and all of those notions shatter like sheets of glass on a stone floor. Sam pulls Cas up, into his lap, and Cas braces himself on the back of the couch and looks down at Sam’s beautiful, angular face. “Hi,” he whispers, his eyes still a little puffy, his voice still a little hoarse, his face still a little red. Sam reaches for a napkin and wipes off his shimmering wet cheeks.

“Hi,” he says back.

Cas smiles confidently.

“I feel bad now,” he confesses.

“I know one thing that will make you feel better,” Sam whispers.

“What’s that?” Cas asks, his blue eyes darting between the hazel pair in front of him and the lips just below them. Sam laughs.

“This,” he answers simply, and he tilts back his chin to kiss Cas softly on the mouth.

“Tell me it’s real this time,” Sam begs halfway into their make out session. “Promise me, swear on your life that you’re not going to break my heart again.”

Cas nods and tugs at the bottom hem of Sam’s shirt. “I will never hurt you again,” he promise, kissing Sam’s shoulder. “Not if I can help it.”

Sam wraps his legs around Castiel’s waist and his arms around Castiel’s neck. “I believe you,” he murmurs, and pulls his new old lover down again.

Sam and Castiel go on a date.

A real one, this time.

“I remember wishing our last meal together was a real date like this,” Cas breathes as he looks at Sam’s beautiful face over a plate of salmon. “I kept wanting to kiss you or hold your hand and forcing myself not to. I’m glad that I can now.”

Sam grins and takes Cas’s hand, as if given an invitation. “I’m glad we can now, too,” he says happily, grinning across the table at his boyfriend.

“Sam?” Cas says softly.

“Hm?” Sam replies.

“I love you,” Castiel says factually.

Sam snorts softly and kisses Cas’s knuckles. “You know something?” he says nonchalantly.

“Yes, Sam?” Castiel asks in amusement, smiling at him. Sam chuckles.

“I might just love you too,” Sam replies.

Castiel grins at him and squeezes his hand before releasing it to eat his dinner. It’s been far too long since he had anything to celebrate, but he does now. He’s nearly a month clean, he has a beautiful new boyfriend who really truly does love him, and they’re going to make it through the rest of their lives together. Things are good.

Perhaps there are, after all, reasons to fight.

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#sastiel #angst #sastiel big bang 2020 #deansil writes #fluff #happy ending #castiel #sam winchester #michael #zachariah #naomi #metatron #lawyer!sam #lawyer!cas #email #drugs #drugs tw #tw drugs

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