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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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meet clay, he knows how you'll die.

intro filler chapter sorry

☾ pairing: dream x reader

☾ cw: interact at your own risk; contains graphic depictions of various character death and violence, suicide, blood, gore, and other triggering material. angst, language, guns, adult content, mentions of sex, slow burn friends to lovers

☾ wc: ~4100

Clay pulled the strap of his backpack further on his shoulder as he wove through the mindless sea of college students, eyes scanning the crowd for you, his best friend and the only person he could stand at the early hour. His knuckles flashed white as he sighed, taking the blunt impact of someone walking into him. He removed one of his headphones, mumbling a quick apology and swatting off the enthusiastically apologetic sophomore girl. All he could focus on was how much she bit her lip as she stammered on about not seeing him. It wasn’t alluring to him when most girls tried to sway his affections by looking at him with a puppy dog expression; all his mind drifted to was the dead skin across the body of her lower lip.

He finally nodded and reinstated his headphone, turning on his heel and heading for the front of the building. He received a few greetings from his peers as they crossed his path, people who shared past lectures with him and who had cheated off of him during exams. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he stayed out of people’s business and didn’t express his opinions loudly, so people tended to like him. The autumn breeze picked up as he stood in the dwellings of political science majors on the front lawn, acting as if they hadn’t seen one another in years when it had been only a few days. Clay absent-mindedly looked down at his cellphone, flipping through music as he leaned against the cool brick of the hall’s facade, waiting for you to find him.

Clay’s usual brooding manner was often off-putting to outsiders, with the careless-hollow look in his eyes giving bystanders the impression that he was nothing but a machiavellian. But you always saw the brightness in him; the side that you always experienced was specifically for you, and he made sure to keep it that way. You had wedged herself into his life and he was ever grateful for the love you had given him.

Despite the understood truth between the two of you that nothing was to be left unsaid, Clay still found himself keeping one of the most important aspects of his character unknown to you. His bloodcurdling secret was his own curse, something that would only be poison for another soul to know.

“What’s up, stud?” Somehow a flush of relief rippled through Clay’s body as his eyes locked to yours, pulling him from his isolated shell. Your hair looked brighter today against the dark hoodie peeking out from beneath an all too familiar bomber jacket. The wind fluffed your locks slightly as you continued towards him.

His eyebrows perked up as if to signal he was attempting to downplay his excited demeanor. “Stud, huh?” You smirked at his response, taking one of his headphones and putting it in your own ear, her face angled up to Clay as you waited to recognize the song, swaying slightly.

He chuckled as you shrunk away from him after muttering the song’s artist disappointedly and rolling your eyes, pulling on his hoodie pocket to follow you. As chaotic as his life often felt, he could always rely on the consistency of you. You usually attached yourself to one of his backpack straps, handles, his belt loop, or ended up under his arm, wedged against his side. It had gotten to the point that he felt naked if you weren’t within arm’s length of him, which was rare for the two of you. “So, I have something for you.” He smugly looked down at you, green eyes masking a hidden sparkle as you handed him a can of root beer, making him chuckle.

“Aren’t you sweet?” He popped the tab, taking a sip as you waved at a group of girls passing the two of you before slipping your hand against the crook of his elbow where his hoodie sleeves were pushed back.

“Actually, I was hoping it could be payment for later. I need to head over to the cemetery for some rubbings. History 270 has me getting into some weird shit, huh?” He laughed again at you, offering you the drink.

“And you need wheels?” You nodded and smiled politely at him, beaming at his words. “Yeah, alright. I have to sketch something for art anyway.” He thought about the week’s assignment and then about your little project he had dealt with the prior year. You had acted like the two of you hadn’t been to the cemetery on a regular basis, but he was grateful that you wanted him to come along with you.

You quietly jumped once. “You are my hero in faded denim, Clay. You know that, right?”

The two of you parted ways to your select destinations, one of Clay’s least favorite parts of the day, which was only solidified as he sunk into his seat and attempted to look equipped for the lecture. He spotted an unfamiliar kid shaking his knee in a distant section of the classroom. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but the sie of the class had given him the pleasantries of getting his own personal curse out of the way on the first day.

He carefully watched the boy speak smugly to a few of the more athletic kids in the room. One of the athletes pointed to the general direction Clay was sitting in and they all moved towards him. He, yet again, took out his headphones, knowing full well that they would be talking to him for the rest of the class.

“Oi, Shaman,” one of the main guys greeted Clay like they always did: a strange pattern of slapping and shaking his hand. He was thankful he had gotten all of their first impressions months prior and didn’t have to worry about getting their scenarios again, but he geared up to meet the new kid.

“How are you, Punz?” Clay took a deep breath as the new kid was gestured to and brought into the light.

“This is Mark. He’s a transfer from one of the commuter campuses. Mark, this is the mastermind you pay for notes.”

Clay sarcastically smiled at Punz. “My, you flatter me more than any girl. Nice to meet you, man.” As soon as he touched Mark’s hand, Clay’s mind flashed to a dingy-looking barn out in the middle of nowhere before an older man in his mid-thirties came into view with a lever-action rifle in his hand. In another flash, Clay was in front of the man, now kneeling with the gun in his mouth, red, blurry eyes looking straight through Clay. A pang of guilt broke open in Clay’s stomach as he pushed against the handguard lever and pulled it back into place, squeezing the trigger and sending Ckay back to the class. He let out a sigh and fought to plaster one of his less absent smiles.

“Speaking of our lovely girls, Mark here has a question about her.” Clay’s head tilted towards Mark, not exactly squaring up to him, but sending him an amused look as if to warn him not to cross a line, knowing full-well this conversation would somehow involve you. “We all know that no guy would ever intrude on her without your blessing, but Mark sat near her on the bus before his first class and was thinking about asking her out.”

Clay bit back a laugh, feeling like the Vito Corleone. “Well, you know her, Punz, and you know she would be mortified if I told some guy to fuck off, so I would just ask her yourself?” Oh, how desperately Clay wanted to bash Mark for not even telling Clay himself and the fact that the boy before him was nowhere near your type, but Clay knew better than to burn bridges and he felt bad for the way Mark would meet his end.

Nobody, not even you, knew about Clay’s gift. In the going-on-five years of knowing you, he came breaths away from letting his secret slip but has always kept it hidden, hoping to bury it with him after being married to you for forty happy years.

The visions started around his fifth-grade year, beginning with vivid dreams of dying in the midst of the Civil War, feeling the warm gushing of blood leaving his system, and the stabbing pain of being shot multiple times beside a woman who oddly looked enough like you that he almost called out your name. He had lived what he presumed to be his death in the life before this one several times, each vision taking him a few clicks further.

Soon, he found himself catching glimpses of others’ deaths before they happened as soon as they touched him, but thankfully it was usually over with no time passing and he only endured the visions once for each person, fate having already sealed itself. The only person who seemed to mix him up was you.

It was love at first sight for him, but as soon as you touched his arm, bleak snapshots of a boating accident raced into his mind, only to have to re-experience the scenario a few months later with you stepping in front of a train. Even as a measly high school freshman, he promised himself that there was no way he was letting you die in the gruesome manners being predicted to you. He didn’t think changing fate was possible until he witnessed you in action. He hated seeing you so young in each of the glimpses, tearing him to shreds as he knew time and time again that there was no way he could change what was meant to be.

There were even times when he quietly promised you that he’d die by your side if he couldn’t stop it.

As his lecture let out, Clay found you tucked into a corner of the library, smiling to yourself silently as knew you had finally found what you were looking for in one of the massive books before you. There were many moments like this that Clay wished he could pause and remember for the rest of his life. He was proud that you were there for him even though you could have left instead of playing your own little game of library scavenger hunts.

Since knowing you, he had taken note of how you treated other boys, usually as first dates and never true pick-ups. You didn’t care if they called you the next day or not and he was sure you had never even been kissed before. Something about your guys’ relationship gave others the nod to leave it the fuck alone, and that your heart truly belonged to Clay; a responsibility he wished didn’t plague you with. Despite this, he couldn’t bring himself to be with you, only worried that what you had would be destroyed because he knew that as soon as he told you about his gift, you might leave.

You always brought a bag of marbles and a bouquet of flowers to the cemetery. You loved to find the tombstones that looked neglected or ones with older dates, knowing that the possibility of having family members who remembered the person was lower. The trees in the graveyard were reds and yellows with the changing season, leaves scattered over the grass, naturally piling in large masses. This was your favorite for how neglected it seemed to always be. You had a knack for making inanimate objects and lost souls feel loved; Clay often feeling like he was one of these disembodied figures.

Clay leaned his back against one of the massive trees a few paces from the tombstone you had picked, smiling as he watched you carry out her routine. He flipped to a clean page in his sketchbook as you sat cross-legged in front of the great stone resting place, pulling the long-dead flowers from the concrete gauntlet and replenishing a few flowers in their place while setting an equal number of marbles along the grass line of the stone. A daisy was tucked behind your ear as you ran her fingers against the worn chiseling of the dates, smiling slightly. He began to sketch you out. Your eyes drifted to him before the corners of your mouth curled up into a smirk and you returned to her previous position, straightening your shoulders. “Who is it?” He asked, blending a rough edge with the pads of his finger as you tilted your head at the script carvings.

“George McAfee. Born 1926. Died 1963.” The wind picked up, blowing your hair away from your face as you pulled your jacket closer around you. “What was happening in 1963?” You turned your head to him momentarily before looking back at the lucky man. “I mean besides Beatlemania and JFK’s assassination?”

Clay outstretched one of his legs, swallowing as he thought, his eyes fluttering from the page in front of him to you. “Well, Alcatraz was shut down, Studebaker stopped production, the USSR sent the first woman into space…” he trailed off, watching you as the gears began to spin in your head.

“Do you think he died in the Coliseum explosion?” You wet your lips and he couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Maybe he died in the USS Thresher sinking?” He was thankful that he could capture your thoughtful gaze in this picture.

“You’re smart, Dream. Have I ever told you that?” He chuckled at the sigh in your voice. He detailed the bomber jacket you were wearing---which you’d stolen from his closet god knows when---a bit as you placed a piece of paper over the engraving and rubbed a crayon against the stone, his name coming to life on the paper as you came to life on Clay’s. It didn’t matter why you two would be in the cemetery, you always had a type of bond with the dead, surprising Clay due to how bright you were and your power of holding onto so much compassion. He threw his sketchbook into his backpack and slug in over his shoulder, moving to help you up. You decided to give the rest of the flowers to George as Clay stood next to you, gazing down at his grave.

A high-pitched moan startled the two of you, snapping your heads to look over the hedges separating your section of graves and the one beside it. Clay’s eyes widened as they fell to a girl in all black with porcelain skin propped on top of one of the tombstones. You clasped your hand over his mouth pulling him onto the ground next to you as you peered through a hole in the bushes. His mind noticed your arms first. One of them was secured over his chest and the other wrapped around his shoulder from beneath his arm, holding onto him as he steadied himself in the weird crouching position. “Are you enjoying this?” He jeered, looking over his shoulder slightly as he heard you snicker. The girl began to ride the stone harder.

“How many times in your life are you going to see a girl humping a gravestone? Honestly, Clay, how many?” He shook his head as you both looked at the girl, giggling to yourselves. You dug her face into his shoulder trying to stifle the next laugh trying to rip through your body as the gothic girl moaned, letting out more labored breaths. Clay’s face contorted into a twisted look of disgust as the girl tugged on her own hair. “Oh, do you think that hurts?” You took the words out of his mouth, tightening your arms around him as he shrugged.

“I doubt it’s any rockier than sex with a human.” He bit his lip, a hollow sound interrupting him quietly laughing at his own joke as you thumped him in the chest. The girl moaned louder. “Alright, she’s climaxing. I’m uncomfortable now.” Clay stood and Willow popped up next to him, lacing your fingers with his, bringing color back to his cheeks as you slipped the remaining marbles into his pocket.

“Oh, hi!” In the midst of holding hands with you again and trying to slink back to his car, he hadn’t even realized that the moaning had stopped. The girl now stood near the two of you in what seemed to be a black slip. Clay found it hard to make direct eye contact with her. “Are you guys looking for someone?”

“We were, but we couldn’t find him so-” you began, gesturing for Clay’s car and pulling him next to you.

“Well, I can help. Who are you looking for?” A thousand sarcastically vulgar comments ran through Clay’shead but his eyes flickered from her face to the tombstone she was on previously.

“Uh, my grandpa. His name was Rupert Daniels,” Clay managed to choke out. Your nails dug into his arm while your hand squeezed his. The girl looked around at the surrounding stones.

“I don’t see him right now, but I can look?” You both shook your heads quickly and muttered various responses before finally slipping away from her and getting into his car. Neither of you said anything as you pulled off the gravel driveway until crossing the railroad tracks when Clay burst out laughing.

“Do you think she even knew who it was she was gettin’ it on with or did she just pick somewhere random?” Clay laughed harder at your stunned response. “I’m serious. Clay, what the fuck. How can someone even get off in a cemetery?”

“I don’t know, man. Would you hook up with someone in a cemetery?” Clay quipped, wiggling his eyebrows at you, causing you to laugh. You dug into his console, pulling out a bag of M&Ms you had stashed in there last week, popping one in your mouth.

“Only if it was you.”

He giggled. “Excuse me, what?”

“There are just some things you do with certain people, Dream. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered I’m the only one you would have sex with in a cemetery, or like, disgusted?” You laughed at his reaction.

Within ten minutes the sun had begun to set and Clay sang loudly with you to the song playing over the radio as Clay sped along one of the county roads near your apartment complex, not wanting the night to end. He loved these moments with you. You turned down the radio and threw your hair back into a ponytail. “So, what do you think of that new kid, Mark?” Something in Clay shifted, taking away the free feeling he had recently possessed next to you. He thought carefully.

He chewed his bottom lip. “Depends on what you think?”

“Well, he seems like a wannabe Punz. And he asked me out. Naturally, I said ‘yes’ because maybe he’s different?” Clay chuckled at your sarcasm, putting his car in park on the side of the street your flat was on and getting out with you. The radio still hummed in the air lowly. “He insisted on Friday, though.” Clay dramatically acted like you had stabbed him in the heart, even though it did hurt. Friday night was their night. It had been a running tradition for movie night every Friday since your freshman year and you had never canceled on Clay for a date. “I know, I know. But I figured that I’d tell him I had diarrhea when it hit eight o’clock and be over at your place with an extra pizza? Your roommate’s working right?” He chuckled with a nod, walking you up the first three steps to your place as you made it to the concrete landing. You turned to him. “And he said he was taking me somewhere fancy, so I’ll snag you some breadsticks.” He tilted his head at you as you winked at him.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Wanna be Punz might be fun. Maybe I’ll call up Minx and hang out with her?” He joked. Minx was a friend of yours that hung out with the two of you sometimes. He had never really liked her, but she was friends with you and thus he was always civil.

“You’re still my number one, babe.” You pushed him slightly as you climbed a few more steps, leaning on the railing as he waved to leave. “Hey, Dream?” He turned on his heel as you forced yourself to make eye contact. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “You could kiss me, you know? For science.” You smiled softly at him from where you were perched. He wet his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to scale the steps and close the space between you, to knock you off your feet and show you just how much he was in love with you.

He hated himself. “A first kiss should have more magic in it than just for science. As a romantic, you should know first hand.” You smiled at the ground in front of you.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The two of you seemed to shake off the serious moment as you stuck your tongue out at him and slipped inside your house as both giggled.

“I love you,” he murmured as you left, punching himself in the shoulder as he got back into his car.

Clay’s heartbeat pulsed in his ears, making him truly believe he was going to pass out. He had lost his gun at least a mile back. He was running mindlessly now, not knowing how long or where he was going. He trudged through the forest, hearing dogs barking and gunshots erupting around him, the ringing in his ears building with every step he forced himself to make. He wanted to rip open the front of his jacket to release the body heat drenching his collar, but he didn’t move other than propelling his body further and further away from the soldiers. You ran beside him, holding your skirt up while your hair danced around your shoulders like a great waterfall. As soon as his body felt like it might just give out, he would look at you and somehow find more of a drive to pull forward. His breaths were brittle and hoarse as he drew in borrowed oxygen. His lungs felt shallow like they were giving out on him.

You reached back, grasping his hand and pulling him into a sharp corner, hoping to lose the group. You both had managed to weave into the forest, but the dogs were somehow still picking up on your scent. The pair of you finally came upon a clearing and kneeled down out of sight, spotting a house in the middle of a glen. Bullets were streaming through the air. The forest was catching fire and cannons were echoing through the distant air. You squeezed his hand tightly, looking at him with terror in your eyes. He had gotten the two of you into this mess, but he was glad he was beside you.

He pulled you to your feet as the pair of you sprinted for a distant house. A sharp pain stabbed into Clay’s back, making him drop to the ground. How did he not hear the gun? You dropped to your feet, your eyes welling with tears, ripping at his jacket, but he pushed you off, telling you to leave quickly. He leaned forward, eyes locking on the soldiers in gray coming towards them, reloading their rifles. He groaned, pushing himself up, but only having the same stabbing sensation two more times in his chest. He heard you scream, but he couldn’t see you.

His hands were going numb as he touched where the bullets entered, feeling the warm and sticky crimson substance seep between his fingers. The soldiers reached you before you had made it to the house, pulling you to the ground next to him. You were crying heavily as you looked at him. Everything began to run quiet as you held onto him tightly. You were saying something to him, but he couldn’t hear you. He was only aware of his jacket soaking with blood. He coughed, wanting to tell you he loved you one last time, but you were tugged away from him, pressed to one of the men in gray. He raised a hand to you as you fought against the man. And then everything went dark.

Dream Tag List: (hopefully this works)

@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @unstableye @tinyegg @behzzyboo @twist3dtinkerbell @sparkletash @shroomieissmall @clubfairy @camerondiaz48104 @victory-is-here @rat-poisin @alm334 @acidluvs @pachowpachowbucket @bbigbbrainn @cdizzlevalntyne @idiotinnit @generallysleepdeprived @sacvf @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @essencee @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity @jenlouvre @victoria-a567 @miilliiie @bunnylotl @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t @carlyferrell @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @nyxieahh @quivvyintheclouds @sarcasticmichelle @book-of-anarchy @millavalntyne @lightdreamy @baddiesforcorpse @sunnynapp @fantasy-innit @rat-poisin @wreny24 @deepestofwaters @exenestea @indecisivehusky @fallxnly @alm334 @skaratjung @punzcanrailme @sap-naps @denki-exe @angeltears18 @silvemistxe33 @andreamalik6 @kris-stuff @sun-fiower-seed @where-thesundoesntshine @dilfdream @esmegregory04 @itsparasocial @mlqcool @mcgoddess404 @rinatdawn @chaoscait @peppermintkisses @libbynotfound @speedrunningtherapy @lunxramour @aoonai @loraleiix @ghoulpixiie

#dream x you #dream x fem!reader #dream x y/n #dream imagine #dream x reader #mcyt au #mcyt x reader #cw gore #cw language #tw violence #tw death #tw angst #tw gore #tw suicide #tw blood

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pawfulsofmischief · 2 years

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Intro and Masterlist

Hallo, hallo!! I'm Nova, a pleasure to see you on my blog!! <33 I'm a Wolfstar addict, Belladora ship captain, Marylily/Dorlene admirer, Ao3 author, Dnd player and furry digital artist. I also post the occasional drabble here on tumblr when I get hit with inspiration but can't make the fic long enough (for me) to post on ao3.

My dm's are always open if you want to chat!! I mean about anything, really. Just chatting, questions about anything, etc etc. I love talking to people, but I'm real bad at reaching out first. My anons are also open if you want to send me anything <33 (If you send hate, I will simply use it as an exercise into descriptive writing of ways to say 'fuck you', but go off I guess.)

Anyway, here's my fics for those curious!

Ongoing Fics

They Never Expect the Squibs (TNES) Planned to be a long fic, 75k+ at least. squib!trans!Regulus and genderqueer!Sirius are the main POV's, and there's lots of queer stuff planned. Possible violence, but no explicit smut planned. Mentions of past trauma. Updates every other Friday (bar any life issues).

Sirius only remembers glimpses of a sister he once used to have when he was tiny before she vanished without a word. Regulus first remembers the dingy orphanage, which he was rescued from by a wonderful, accepting couple that raised him as their own. Imagine their surprise when the two meet years later, in the middle of a raging war that was getting quite out of hand. They look almost identical, they could almost be twins. How are they supposed to handle a surprise sibling reunion when the world is crumbling around them? And how are these muggles managing to survive Death Eater attacks, and even win the fights while they're at it?

Freak Like Me (FLM) Also planned to be a long fic, 50k+ words at least. trans!Sirius as the main POV, with bassist!Remus and werewolf!Regulus as major focuses. Also very queer. Wolfstar and Jegulus + other pairs. Explicit smut planned, as well as mentions of past trauma, addiction, etc. Updates alternating Fridays with TNES and CitF.

They're still young, barely in their twenties, and they want to have fun in a world that's a bit shite. When Marlene drags the group to an underground, magical concert, they don't know what they're getting themselves into. Music, werewolves, and rebellion flood Sirius's life all in the course of one night. A bassist with golden-amber eyes and tawny curls, a familiar grey eyed drummer he hasn't seen in years, and a singer with the most obnoxiously pink hair he's ever seen. What could this band possibly bring into his life that wouldn't be worth the way the bassist makes his stomach flip and breath hitch?

Corruption is the flesh that covers every bone. (CitF) Definitely look at the tags before reading this one. James's POV with the occasional POV from Sirius. A dark!Marauders fic that will be filled heavily with dark themes with this such as explicit violence. Rosekillerstarchaser and Wolfstar pairings with other background pairs. Also baby Harry and Teddy (adopted, not with Tonks)!!

In the midst of a war, with a baby on his hip and best friends at his side, James Potter begins uncovering a whole treasure trove of things he never could have imagined. Lies, deceit, slander, and more. Things about himself and Sirius and Peter that they should have realized with the kinds of pranks they pulled, and things about Lily that disgust him. Perhaps they really are more suited for the Dark side.

Kind-Of-Sort-Of-Dad-Uncles MixedUpWritersFest collab with @therealrjlupin!! Wrong number texting fic. PoV swaps between Sirius and Remus.

Remus is more than excited for his kind-of-sort-of-son-nephew to be born and attempts to text Peter the exciting news! Except, it isn't Peter that he texts, it's some stranger who he continues to text because, well, they're quite interest, if a bit egotistical. Sirius winds up getting an unsolicited “in active labour” text one evening from a random number. They find it quite amusing and decide to keep texting this curious stranger that has gotten them so invested in this child they don't even know! Perhaps taking a gift to them in the hospital would be nice if they're going to be updated more.

Oneshots/others below the cut

Oneshots

Beggin' 5.8k words. NSFW Belladora (Bellatrix/Pandora) fluff and smut. The first half is smut free, with a bit of cute toddler Luna before the smut begins~

Bellatrix has just finished 'taking care of' a group of Order members with Fenrir and has found some distressing news. She returns home to her partner Pandora and daughter Luna later that evening, and Pandora soon helps her to stop thinking about it for a while.

Hell's Welcoming 12.9k words. NSFW Priest!Remus just got dropped into hell and is welcomed by Devil!Sirius in a way that surprises both of them ;) Beginning of a series of stand alone one shots that build on each other

Remus has spent the last forty-some odd years as a wonderful priest, following his vows to the letter and working to help to make the world a better place. He believed he would walk through the pearly gates of Heaven when he finally met his end... Except that's not at all what happens. Rather, he wakes up and soon finds he's been dropped down to Hell without a second glance. Sirius has been doing their job as the Ruler of Hell extremely well for centuries. So they'd seen plenty of souls that would theoretically go to Heaven be dropped down to Hell simply because 'God' doesn't want them. None have ever been like the priest that landed on his desk one evening just after his death, though. Remus and Sirius come to realize this arrangement is perfectly alright with them, however.

Special Nights 9.8k words. NSFW trans!Sirius ends up in a weird mutual masturbation situation on accident with James and Remus... It works out very well in the end

Remus came back for sixth year hot and of course Sirius noticed it. He managed to get through the first week just fine, he distracted himself well enough to not indulge in fantasizing too much. Until they go to bed early, high off adrenaline from a good day of pranking and he just wants to sleep, but he also keeps imagining Remus. Then he hears a moan from somewhere else in the room. From James's bed, in fact. But that's just the beginning for our delightful Sirius.

Gender Adventure 3.6k words. trans!James helps gn!Sirius come to terms with who they really are and protects them when needed. Second part will come out... eventually :D

When Dorcas comes out as nonbinary in the beginning of fourth year, it kick starts Sirius's thoughts into his own gender identity. With the help of best mate James and his wonderful parents, as well as wonderfully accepting friends, Sirius starts the journey- or adventure, as one may call it- into figuring out what it all leads to.

Coffee and Tea 888 words. Real simple Harry and Draco bump into each other at a coffee shop.

Harry's there to just get his morning tea, like he does most days. He isn't, however, expecting to hear the one voice he'd never thought he'd hear again. After all, who would have expected to find Malfoy in a muggle cafe of all places?

A Very Sassy Potter

748 words. Possibility of more in the future. Harry is a sassy Slytherin and he talks back to Snape in the very first potions class of first year.

Harry has grown up not taking any shit, so when Snape comes at him trying to make him look stupid, Harry shows him he's far from it.

Love of a Mother 3k words. Molly Weasley focused, multiple pairings mentioned. Tells a story of how Molly protects all the kids she can through the war~

When Molly Weasley sees Vernon Dursley and how he treats Harry, she decides to take Harry instead. She gives him a home and family, and against Dumbledore's wishes, doesn't let him go back to a place such as the Dursleys. When Narcissa comes to Molly with a request, she takes Draco in with open arms. She gives him the kind of love Narcissa was never able to while around Lucius. Molly loves her children, she just wants them to be happy.

Yule Ball Confessions 3.7k words. Drarry fic with vague Pansmione. Pansy and Hermione are fed up and make the boys dance at the Yule ball together.

Harry takes Hermione to the Yule Ball, but he doesn't quite realize that she's up to something. In what seems to be a coordinated plan with Pansy Parkinson herself, Hermione manages to somehow convince Draco bloody Malfoy to 'teach' Harry to dance... Which somehow leads to something highly unexpected?

On hold/Being rewritten

Another Black Sheep 79k+ words. 5 chapters so far. Currently being rewritten very slowly to be more cohesive and shite. trans!OC + twins focused. It follows their time in school and beyond during the war. Regulus lives, as do Sirius, Remus, etc. This was the first fic I wrote after coming back from a long ass hiatus and jumping from Wattpad to Ao3.

Fox Black has always been a bit strange. Ever since he was little he stood out. Auburn hair, always playing in the mud, and quite loudly wondering why daddy was always so mean about blood status. Of course, he was also once known as Vulpecula Bellatrix Malfoy, eldest child and sole daughter of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. But he's always been trouble for the Malfoys, and that doesn't stop when he gets to Hogwarts. Instead, it gets worse, as on the very first train ride to Hogwarts, Fox meets a pair that became the most unlikeliest friends for a Malfoy: Fred and George Weasley.

#masterlist #fanfiction list #i sort of stole the format from @de-sire-blog :) sorry-not-sorry #it's a nice format #will update periodically #wolfstar #jegulus #starchaser #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #regulus black #fanfiction #hp fanfiction

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raeandwhatnot · 3 years

Text

Lucky Charm – Luke Patterson

Summary: Luke is reminiscing about his relationship with you in the past.

Warnings: it’s a bit sad and angst… but also fluff

Words: 4.3k

A/N: (Y/D/J)= your dream job. This is 3rd person unlike my other imagines where I do it in 1st person. Might make a part two to this if y’all want it! I will be getting to y’alls requests ASAP! I’m so excited to write them! Also, italicized is flashback!

It’s been 25 years since Luke, Alex, and Reggie have died. The first thing that Luke thought of when he died wasn’t just his family, he thought of (Y/N). He thought of how he just left her. They were supposed to be together forever, but that forever was cut short from tainted hot dogs out of a car. The boys have been in the band with Julie for a while now, but Luke couldn’t help but think something was missing while he performed. (Y/N) was that missing puzzle piece. He always called her his lucky charm because he would always perform his best when she was in the crowd.

“Are you going to come to the dance tonight, (Y/N/N)?” Alex asks as the Sunset Curve group walks with the girl to their shared class.

“Hmmm,” (Y/N) hums. “I’m not sure. I have a lot of homework I need to catch up on.”

Luke groans and rolls his eyes at the girl’s excuse. “Oh come on, (Y/N)!” he exclaims, walking in front of her, making him walk backwards. “You have got to live a little every once in a while! All you do is worry about school work. You need to come to the dance. The best band is going to play at the dance!”

(Y/N) tilts her head, “Oh yeah? What band?”

“Sunset Curve, duh!” Reggie says. (Y/N) giggled as she already knew the answer to her question.

“Please?” Bobby pouts. “It’s going to be a lot of fun!”

The group stops outside of the classroom door and she looks at the boys. They all had pleading looks on their faces.

“(Y/N), please!” Luke begs, grabbing her shoulders. “I need my lucky charm tonight. I promise tonight will be worth it!”

(Y/N) looks down at the charm bracelet the boys got her for her 17th birthday. The boys collectively got a charm for her bracelet that meant something to them. Luke got her a clover as she is his lucky charm. She looks back up at the green eyes staring at her waiting for her to answer.

“Fine,” (Y/N) sighed. “I will go to the dance, but you have to promise me that you guys will dance with me!” Luke smiles and pulls her into a quick hug. The rest boys cheered and high fived one another.

Luke wished he could go back to that night. It was a few months before they started dating. He and (Y/N) slow danced together which made him realize that he that had feelings for the girl in the first place. He realized why she was his lucky charm, why his heart would always skip a beat when she laughed, why his palms would get sweaty when she held his hand, why he would always want to be around her because she made him feel safe. He couldn’t stop thinking about her even in the afterlife. He would wonder where she is. Did she get married and have a family? Did she follow her dreams to become a(n) (Y/D/J)? Did she live her life to the fullest? Did she-

Luke’s thoughts were interrupted by a voice calling out to him, “Hey, Luke!” His eyes tore away from his journal he zoned out on. He saw Alex and Reggie standing in front of him.

“Hm?” Luke hummed, sitting up from leaning against the piano.

Alex took a step closer and asks, “Are you okay?”

Luke tosses his journal on the couch and takes off the acoustic guitar that was wrapped around his chest. “Yeah! Just thinking about a new song!” Luke said. Alex tucks his hands into his jacket’s pockets as he doesn’t believe that Luke is okay. He has been spacing out a lot recently.

“Cool! What is it about?” Reggie questions.

“Uh, I’m not sure yet,” Luke answers. “I was just brainstorming. Trying to think of a meaning to it.” Alex turns his attention to the journal. Luke had doodled clovers around the edges of the paper. Alex taps Reggie with his shoulder and tilts his head at the journal. Reggie analyzes the book, realizing what Luke has been thinking about.

“You making another song about (Y/N)?” Reggie wonders, still looking at the song book.

Luke glances at what Reggie was looking. “I don’t know. She’s just been on my mind recently,” he sighs and looks at the floor. Alex and Reggie nod in agreement as they too have been thinking about their friend.

Alex takes another step towards Luke, “Do you want to talk about it?” Luke kept his eyes glued to the ground. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk about her. He didn’t know if it would make him feel better, or if he would just burst into tears.

His thoughts were interrupted once more as Julie skips into the room. “Ready to rehearse, guys?” Julie smiles.

Luke puts on a happy face, “Hell, yeah! Let’s rock out!”

Alex and Reggie look at one another, concerned for their best friend who seems to be hurting. The group walks to their respective spots in the studio.

“What song should we start with?” Luke asks as he plugs his electric guitar into the amp.

Julie flipped her song book. “Should we warm up with Finally Free? We haven’t done that song in a while,” Julie suggest.

Luke look at the boys who were nodding their heads in agreement. “Sounds good to us!” he answers for the group.

Julie starts off the song with her intro, and the rest of the band joined in. As they were performing, Luke messed up here and there, but not enough to notice. At least Julie didn’t notice as she was rocking out with the boys. When they finished Finally Free, they decided to do a new song Julie had started writing. They hadn’t settled on a title just yet which was okay because it was still in the works. They started to practice the first verse going into the chorus, but Luke wasn’t 100% focused. He kept playing the wrong chords.

Because he messed up, he let out a load, frustrated groan. The rest of the band halted their actions to look at Luke. “Woah, you good?” Julie asks concerned.

Luke shakes his vigorously to try to get his mind straight, “Yeah! I’m just not used to the pattern yet. Let’s try again.”

Julie looks at Alex and Reggie. They both shrug their shoulders, and they start the song again. However, this time Luke could barely get past the intro without messing up. He tried to continue, but he couldn’t do it.

“Damn it!” Luke shouts, dropping his guitar to hover over his chest as he roughly runs his hands through his hair.

Julie stands up from his keyboard. “Luke?” she softly says. Luke could feel the tears welling up in his eyes.

“I-uh,” Luke stutters as he takes off his guitar. “I need s-some air.” Luke suddenly then poofs out without another word.

Julie looks at the empty space where Luke was standing. She couldn’t figure out why Luke wasn’t in the right head space. He was always focused on the band, or at least he always seems to be. Julie takes her eyes from the dead space to Alex and Reggie who had sad looks on their faces. Reggie takes his bass off and sets it next to Luke’s guitar.

Julie steps off to the side of her keyboard. “What’s up with him?” she asks Alex and Reggie. They glance at each other before Alex steps away from his drums to standing next to Reggie.

“We’ve been thinking about an old friend from back in the 90’s,” Alex confesses.

Julie shrugs her shoulder, “Who? Bobby?”

Reggie shakes his head. “Gosh, no. I wouldn’t want to spend my spare time thinking about that song stealing dummy,” Reggie says in disgust.

“She wasn’t part of Sunset Curve. At least she didn’t perform with us. Her name was (Y/N),” Alex states, ignoring what Reggie said about Bobby.

“(Y/N)? How come I’ve never heard you guys talk about her?” Julie wonders. Both Alex and Reggie shrug their shoulders, unsure why they never talk about one of their best friends. “Well, who was she then?”

A slight smile grew on Alex and Reggie as they thought of (Y/N). Alex started to reminisce the memories of his old friend, “She was one of the most important people in our lives. She helped us with our struggles, helped us study, came to almost all of our gigs, helped us get gigs… she was just the glue of Sunset Curve. We wouldn’t hardly function as a band if it wasn’t for her. She was even the one who got us the gig at the Orpheum…”

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and Sunset Curve was writing a new song for their new demo. They wanted to make new songs as they always perform the same songs at every gig. “Hey boys,” Luke calls out. Bobby was playing random notes on his guitar, Alex was trying balance his drumstick on his index finger, and Reggie was catching dust. They all turned to Luke who had written some stuff in his song book. “How does this sound? When all the days felt black and white those were the best shades of my life!” Luke sings.

“Dang, Luke!” Bobby exclaimed. “That’s really good! How did you come up with that?”

“I don’t know. It just came to me!” Luke smirks. “I’m also half way done with the song!”

“It’s been, what, 30 minutes and you’re already half way done?!” Alex says. Luke nods his head as he writes down more in his journal. Next thing they know, they hear clicking heels coming from the driveway. They all look up to see (Y/N) with a huge smile on her face.

“Uh, oh. Here comes trouble,” Luke teases. “What’s got you all smiley, babes?”

(Y/N) stops at the entry way of the studio. “Well, I have some pretty big news to tell you boys!” she says, shifting her weight from the balls of her feet to her feels.

“What? You got the best SAT’s scores of the school?” Bobby asks.

“You’re graduating a semester early?” then asks Alex.

“No! You got us a puppy?!” Reggie asks excitedly. The boys looked at Reggie as if he asked the most absurd question ever.

(Y/N) giggled, “As much as I would love to give you a puppy, Reggie, you are incorrect. All of you are incorrect. I just did the best thing that is ever going to happen to Sunset Curve!”

Luke raised an eyebrow, curious at what his girlfriend could have done. “What did you do?” The group slowly walks towards (Y/N). Her smile thinned out as she took a pause for dramatic effect. However, the boys were anticipatingly waiting for her to say something. “WHAT?!” they outburst.

(Y/N) chuckled at the band, and she took out a piece of paper from her back pocket. She cleared her throat dramatically before readings out loud, “Dear Miss (Y/L/N). Thank you for sending us Sunset Curve’s demo and sharing their amazing talent. We would like to offer them the chance of a lifetime. On July 22nd, we would like to invite Sunset Curve to perform here at the…” (Y/N) looks up at the guys who got even closer to her and each other.

“Perform where?!” Reggie shouts.

(Y/N) smiles even wider than ever before she throws her arms in the air and shouts, “TO PERFORM AT THE ORPHEUM BABY!” All four boy’s eyes widened and screamed out happy cheers. Luke tackles (Y/N) in the biggest hug. She wraps her legs around his waist as he ran to the drive way to spin her around.

“This is amazing!” Luke exclaimed, putting his girlfriend down. “You really are our lucky charm!” (Y/N) blushes at the compliment. Luke then presses his lips to hers to give her a sweet kiss. She smiles in the kiss as she is the happiest she has ever been.

“Hey, Patterson. Let us give (Y/N/N) some lovin’!” Bobby tugged on Luke’s shoulders which makes the couple pull away from each other. Alex, Bobby, and Reggie then take their chance to hug (Y/N). Luke joined in by hugging her from behind. They boys thanked the girl over and over again as they were in their group hug.

“Guys!” (Y/N)’s voice muffled from the inside of the hug. “One of you guys need to put on deodorant. Plus, I can’t breathe in here!” They all laughed at her and pulled away from the hug, but Luke kept his arms wrapped around the girl from behind.

“What would we do without you?” Alex smiles.

(Y/N) let out a playful sigh, “I don’t know. Never be able to play anywhere?” She giggled at her own joke. Luke sneaks in a kiss on the cheek. “Alright boys, you need to start rehearsing now that you have this mega-important life changing gig! I will order some pizza and soda so we can celebrate even more tonight!”

“You’re the best (Y/N)!” Bobby says before walking back into the studio with Alex and Reggie.

“You really are the best,” Luke whispers in (Y/N) ear. She turns around and gives him a peck on the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too”

Julie felt her heart drop at the thought of Luke hurting even more for leaving behind two of the most important women in is life. Luke is not that open about his past life. Julie couldn’t imagine the pain he has been going through. Alex and Reggie had tears welling up in their eyes as they finished telling the story of how they booked the Orpheum gig. Her mind wandered to a song that she saw when she was flipping through Luke’s song book when Luke wanted to show her Sunset Curve songs. She remembered walking to the studio to hear Luke singing a song she never heard before, but she recognized some of the lyrics from his song book. “She sounds amazing. Do you guys have an old photo of her at all?” Julie questions.

Reggie looks at Alex, knowing he has a picture. “Yeah, I do actually. However, Luke doesn’t know, so please don’t tell him we have this,” Alex says, walking over to his fanny pack that was near his drums.

Julie tilts her head to the side in confusion, “Why doesn’t he know about you having a picture of her?”

Alex grabs his fanny pack and unzips it. “Luke’s been pretty happy recently, but I know that thinking about (Y/N) makes him a little sad. I would hate to show him a picture that brings back all these happy memories to make him sad that they didn’t get to have more of a life together,” Alex explains. Julie slowly nods her head.

Alex reaches in his back and grabs the polaroid picture. He walks back to Julie and hands her the photo. She slightly smiles at the picture. It was of (Y/N) and Luke. (Y/N) had a big smile on her face as Luke was giving her a kiss on the cheek. You could see the pure happiness radiating from the photograph. “Wow, she’s really pretty. Luke was a lucky guy!” Julie compliments. “You know, I’m sure Luke would love to have this picture. I think it’s time you guys should give it to him.”

Julie hands the picture back to Alex. Reggie started to play with his fingers nervously. Alex analyzes the picture in his hand and puts it in his back pocket. “We should probably go look for him,” Alex says quietly. Reggie nods his head and stands closer to Alex. Julie gives the boys a slight smile before they poofed out of the studio.

*****

Luke was sitting at the beach, the water hitting his feet when it came to shore. He watched the sunset which was helping him calm down. Him and (Y/N) liked to come to the beach and watch the sunrise, the sunset, and star gaze all the time! This was their spot when they wanted to get away from everyone and have a bit of privacy with just them two. They would invite the band sometimes to have bonfires and eat s’mores after a gig. Luke watched the lifers around him playing in the water and having fun at the beach. He wished he could join the teenagers jamming in a big circle across the beach.

Suddenly, he hears a poof behind him. He turns around to see Alex and Reggie. “Well, you guys found me,” Luke quietly says, turning back to face the sunset. In his peripheral vision, he saw his friends sit on both sides of him, Alex on his right and Reggie on his left.

“I figured you would be here. You are kind of predicable sometimes,” Alex says. Luke nods his head slightly, agreeing with Alex. “What’s up, Luke?”

Luke lets out a heavy sigh. He takes a handful of sun and lets it fall in-between his fingers. “I just..” he starts. “I just wish I could see her again. I wish I could hold her. I want to know how she’s doing. I wish I knew where she was, so I could see her one last time…”

Reggie patted Luke’s back to try to comfort him, “It’s okay, buddy. I know we all wish we could see her again.”

Luke shakes his head, angry tears forming in his eyes. “Sometimes I wish we didn’t die when we did. There was so much we wanted to do as a band, and there was so much I wanted to do with (Y/N),” Luke exclaims.

Luke shifts his weight to the left to reach in his front pocket. What he takes out of his pocket shocks Alex and Reggie. Luke is holding their best friends charm bracelet. “Wait, you’ve had this this whole time?” Alex asks. Luke nods his head, a tear finally falling on his cheek. Luke turns the bracelet to have the clover charm facing him.

“I found it at my parent’s house. When I first went there to visit them, I went to look at my room to see if anything changed. I found it on my bed with some of my flannels she stole. I don’t know why she would give it back. Maybe because looking at it gave her so much pain. I can’t imagine the pain she went through,” Luke explains.

Alex glances at Reggie who had tears brewing in his eyes as well. He suddenly became anxious as he wasn’t sure how Luke was about to react with what Alex was about to give him. He nervously fidgets before he speaks, “I actually have something to show you.”

Luke turns his gaze to Alex. Alex opens his fanny pack to reach for the photograph. Luke looks at his friend’s hand to see the polaroid picture. He hesitantly grabs the photo. He lets out a sad chuckle. It was the picture of (Y/N) and Luke. “Where did you find this?” Luke asks.

“I found it when I found our stuff upstairs in the loft. I’m sorry I didn’t give this to you earlier,” Alex apologizes.

Luke shakes his head to dismiss Alex’s apology. He studies the picture of the two of them. He remembered this day vividly. It was him and (Y/N)’s first date. He had taken her to a drive-in movie and ice cream. The picture was taken right before the movie had started. (Y/N) had always taken polaroid pictures for the memories. She had given this to Luke because she wanted him to remember that day, but how could he forget? He would never forget her or the memories they shared.

(Y/N) and Luke were setting up the back of his truck before the movie. Luke was spreading out the blanket and pillows while (Y/N) was grabbing the snacks from the front. Once they finished, they jumped in the trunk and started to get comfortable. “Are you excided?” Luke asks (Y/N).

She pulls the blanket to her lap, “Yes! I’ve always wanted to go to a drive-in movie!” Luke smiles at her excitedness.

“I know!” Luke says. (Y/N) slightly smiles and looks down at her lap, blushing. “Which snack would you like to eat first, m’lady?” he asks in a dramatic British accent.

(Y/N) giggles. “Hmmm, why sir pass me the sour gummy worms!” she replies too in a silly British accent.

Luke chuckles, grabs the snack, and hands it to her. She opens the bag and takes out a blue and red gummy worm. She eats the blue side first and looks at Luke who was watching her the whole time. She could feel her cheeks getting warmer. She flicks her wrist to give the red side of the gummy worm to Luke. He looks at the gummy worm before grabbing it and taking a bite. “This is crazy, you know?” (Y/N) admits.

Luke sits up a bit and furrows his brows. “How?” he questions.

She shrugs. “I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Sitting here.. on a date.. with one of my best friends who I’ve had a crush on for forever. I never thought it would actually happen.”

She kept her gaze on her lap, playing with a gummy worm. Luke cocks his head to the side to try to get her to look at him. However, she continues to look down. He takes his hand and pushes her chin gently to face her towards him. She looks into his green eyes. “Well, you better believe it because I wouldn’t want to be on a date with anyone else,” he says. He tilts her head down and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

(Y/N) then remembered that she had her camera in her bag. “Wait!” she exclaims. Luke moves to the side a bit as she reaches for her bag that is behind them. She unzips her bag to grab her polaroid camera. “I want to take a picture!”

“How come you always bring that where ever you go?” Luke wonders.

She fidgets the camera in her hands. “I want to create memories. I want to remember my adventures and experiences. I want to remember it all, so I take pictures,” she says, checking to see if she has enough film.

Luke smiles, “That’s amazing!”

(Y/N) scoots closer to Luke and angles the camera up to get them both in frame. They smile, getting ready to take the picture. He then had an idea for a great picture. Right as she pushes the button, he kisses her cheek. (Y/N) smiles even wider and lets out a slight giggle. The film shoots out and she grabs the photo. She looks at Luke who was smiling like a kid in a candy store. You could see the love and adore in his eyes. Luke flicks his eyes to her lips for a second, but it was enough for her to notice. He leans in, but she stops him. “I thought you weren’t supposed to kiss until after the date. Or even on the first date at all?” (Y/N) jokes.

“We can be different,” Luke smirks before giving her a kiss. As his lips touch her, she takes in a large breath and leans forward in the kiss. He takes his hand and places it on her cheek to deepen the kiss. Butterflies were flying around in their stomachs. (Y/N) pulls away slowly.

Luke opens his eyes to see her cheeks were bright red. “The movies about to start,” (Y/N) says. He chuckles and pecks her lips one more time. They shift around to where they were laying down, resting on the pillows behind them. (Y/N)’s head rested on Luke’s shoulder. She grabs the bag of sour gummy worms and takes a handful out. “Gummy worms?” she asks Luke.

Luke looks down to see her handing him some gummy worms. “Don’t mind if I do,” he says and takes the candy out of her hand to place it on his chest. As the movie starts, Luke smiles to himself. He’s on one of many dates him and (Y/N) will be on, and he couldn’t wait.

Luke didn’t notice that he was full on sobbing when he was reminiscing on the past. He suddenly felt a hand rubbing his back, trying to comfort him. He looks to see Reggie comforting him. Luke pats Reggie on the back to thank him. “It’s okay to be sad, Luke,” Alex says. Luke looks at Alex and nods. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

Luke thins his lip in a sad smile. Luke puts the photo and the bracelet back in his front pocket. He wipes his wet face and sniffs the snot that his slightly falling out of his nose. “Let’s get back to the studio. Even though we don’t sleep, I need a nap,” Luke says, getting up and wiping the sand off of his pants.

Luke looks around the beach once more to see the lifers having fun. Alex and Reggie follow Luke’s actions and stand up as well. Luke walks towards the teenagers still playing their guitars and singing around the fire. He watches them smile and laugh with one another. Alex places his hand on Luke’s shoulder to signal that they should leave.

Before they poofed back to the studio, Luke noticed someone in the distance. He saw someone watching the group of teenagers like he was. He noticed the (Y/H/C) girl wiping away a tear from her eye. Then, their eyes connected. He recognized those (Y/E/C) eyes. He squints and walks closer to get a better look. He halted as he got a little closer. His heart beat quickened at the sight of her.

“(Y/N)?” he whispered before the girl poofed away. Luke’s breath started to quicken as he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Luke?” Reggie called out. Luke turned around. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I just saw (Y/N)!”

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #jatp luke #japt #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagine

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sp00kworm · 3 years

Text

Who needs lights?

Pairing: Durzub (Goth Male Orc) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warning: Suggestive Themes

This wonderful piece is based off a very lovely OC by @of-devils-and-drawings. Durzub belongs to her and I adored him too much not to make this for him. I’m a sucker for anything scary and/or orc.... and/or metal....and/or goth.

---

You’d always found a little bit of comfort being in the alternative scene, even when others stared and watched in the street as you went past, going about your business, bundled in black layers or flares and platforms. It was something unique and different and it was very much a part of your life. The bars were always better places too. You laughed at the bar at your friend as the bar tender tied his platinum, lilac streaked hair back and started to mix the cocktail for the jug. It was easier to order in large pitchers and watch the band playing from the platform the bar was on. You watched the alcohol mix as the Fae grinned at you, revealing incredibly dangerous, sharp teeth and placed two straws into the jug before sliding it closer to the two of you.

You paid for it before laughing and turning a straw to the Faun, “To our health! Well, and my new job!” You cheered.

“Oh, for sure, finally you’re not broke and can pay for drinks!” She jeered as she pursed her lips and leaned down to take a few long sips, “Jesus Christ, Flix!” She coughed, “You trying to get us drunk and make us easy, or something?”

Flix rolled his eyes as he flipped a cocktail shaker over and caught it, “You wish Pip. You two haven’t ever been my type.” He snorted as his lilac, gossamer wings fluttered behind his back in irritation. He laid his burning black eyes on a group in the corner, “Though, I like the look of those troublemakers.” A claw raised to point at the group of Orcs who were gathered in the corner.

Pip’s brown ears flicked before her hooves clicked against the black floor, the sparkly tiles reflecting the strobes from the stage. She grinned and flicked at the ring in her nose, her shaggy black hair flopping back over her dark eyes, “Oh,” She purred, “I didn’t know you were into the rowdy muscle-head sort.”

Flix flipped the cocktail again before giving her the middle finger and moving to serve the cocktail to a woman who had just come out of the crowd watching the band.

“Who are they?” You asked after taking a long drink of the cocktail, “I haven’t seen them here before?” You looked over at the group again before realising how perfectly they fit in here in the bar. All were dressed in a variety of fashion, from heavy leather, to chains, to netting. Others donned fancier items with flowing sleeves and long, tailored skirts and trousers. The majority were green in skin tone, but you looked at a few lighter coloured, grey toned orcs with interest as they were from the mountainous regions of the old country.

Pip clicked her tongue, “Muscle heads and trouble, the lot of them.” She took another few drinks before hopping back onto her bar stool and adjusting her net top over her ripped shirt. Around her waist was a thick leather belt, the studs dripping with thin metal chains that hung around her furry hips, “They come to shows like this and usually start fights.” She commented off-handedly.

With a frown, you looked from her, to the group again, “They just seem to be drinking and watching?” You commented.

Pip snorted a short bleat again, “Yeah, wait until this gig really kicks off, then you’ll see what I mean. Last time I was here with them one of them decided it would be a great idea to upturn tables, and by that, I mean, upturn my drinks over my new dress.” She hissed venomously, “They’re assholes, the lot of them.”

“They don’t look like it…” You uttered as one of the Orcs stood from the group and dragged his friend up with him to get drinks. The rest of them hollered their orders before some of the group split off to join the crowd watching the band.

“Oh great. Here they come!” Pip cheered before moving two seats down and dragging you along with her.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Pip.” Flix commented with a hiss and flutter of his wings, “They’re all lookers, I don’t see why you can’t look past that.” He shrugged his shoulders before smiling at the two male orcs at the bar, “What can I do for you two handsome fellas?” His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings at them and you snickered at the scent of lilac flowers that drifted from him like a thick perfume.

“Come on, Flix. Lay off it for one night will ya!” One of the orcs laughed before he elbowed his friend, “This guy’s new here. Don’t go scaring him off already. You lot need our custom.” The orc leaned back and scrubbed at his mohawk, adjusting his heavy cargo trousers. Fabric belts hung between the legs and down them and he wore a heavy half tartan kilt over the top. His face was littered with piercings and you could see why he looked like the sort to be causing problems.

“You know I love you all equally, Xurek.” Flix laughed, “But I was more excited for your lady friend over there. She’s new too huh?”

“Jesus, you never give up! Anyway,” Xurek took the other orc around the neck, “This is Durzub. He’s new in town. Just moved in from out from the sticks. He might look like a foul piece of work, but you’ve met Rakuh, so he’s not as scary.” Xurek laughed before he let the darker skinned orc go. The other male reached up to brush his black hair from his eyes. Most of his long black hair was braided in tight long threads, the braids sequenced with small beads along them with the rest straight and hanging over his shoulder beneath the wide brim of a black hat, emblazoned with a silver trim around the base. He turned, dressed in a black long shirt and coat, the end trailing behind him as he ducked out of Xurek’s grasp, brown eyes angry.

Durzub snorted and tossed his head, the braids sliding back out of his way over his shoulder before he reached up to move his tangled chains from the ends of his hair, the necklaces hanging with silver teeth, “Will you stop dragging me around like a child, Xurek!” He snorted as he dragged his arm out of Xurek’s grasp and adjusted his hat again before sighing and taking it off, “Any way I could get you to store this behind the bar for me? Its new and these lot have a habit of throwing beer the later it gets.”

Flix fluttered his eyelashes again, “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He took the hat and turned around to hang it near the aprons, “Just grab me before closing and I’ll get it you.”

“Thank you.” Durzub rumbled before pulling his hair back again, tucking the straight length on his left side behind his ear, revealing rings of silver and studs of obsidian, which matched the rings, linked by a chain, on each of his short tusks.

“Don’t be nice to him, Durzub, he’ll eat you alive given the opportunity.” Xurek snickered behind his hand as he flapped his band shirt, trying to cool himself down, “His family ate children back in the day.”

“That was five hundred years ago!” Flix scoffed as he slammed two, pint glasses down on the bar, “So, was it two ales or two lagers?”

“We were thinking mead actually.” Xurek stuck his pierced tongue out before he played with the bar, “And not that piss water Weldrick buys for the goblins!” Flix ignored him and turned for the taps down the other end of the bar.

Pip scoffed at the exchange, but you found your mouth opening at the sight of the long-haired orc and his scowl. He watched Flix’s wings before he turned away from Xurek’s chattering and pushed his hand over his mouth. You watched the exchange as Xurek stuck his tongue between the other’s fingers and couldn’t help but laugh loudly as Durzub cringed and recoiled.

“You’re fuckin’ disgusting.” Durzub rolled his eye and took a napkin from the holder to wipe the spit from his fingers and the skull rings which sat above his knuckles.

“Mmm, you taste like fresh meat.” Xurek hissed like a comically bad vampire, and you laughed again, but this time louder. It was loud enough that the two orcs looked down the bar to where you and Pip were sat with your cocktail jug.

“Well done! Now we have their attention.” Pip hissed in your ear before she kicked at your chair with one shoed hoof, clanking the metal with a vicious bang.

Xurek’s smile made you regret everything, as you watched his gaze shift from your face to the larger orc stood next to him, “Looks like we have an audience, Durzub.”

The other male turned slightly on one heel, looking at you both with a raised eyebrow, looking over the two of you perched at the end of the bar, “Don’t mind this freak. He’s got a way of making everyone hate him.”

“Oh, that’s fuckin’ cold!” Xurek hissed at him, “After I introduce you to those bands too!”

Durzub rolled his eyes again as Xurek slinked around him to laze across the bar on one arm, his head propped up on his fist, “Bands which have given me nothing but persistent headaches.”

“Headaches but three magazine features!” Xurek wound his middle finger up before he smiled at the two of you again, “Ignore him. He was castrated at birth.” The statement earned him another gruff noise from Durzub.

“We don’t want your attention, Xurek.” Pip gave him a sardonic smirk, “Not unless you’re replacing those drinks from last time.” She leaned on her own open palm and bared her teeth at him, her hoof clicking against the bar stool.

“You’re a cold bitch, Pip. You know that was an accident.” Xurek whined, “Highlander honour.” He crossed his heart, “Anyway, why don’t I introduce you to my new friend here?” He wrapped his arm around Durzub, making the other spill mead down his fingers as he dragged him over to the two of you, “This is Durzub. He’s a music producer, and part time good looker.”

“You’re a music producer?” You asked in awe before you turned and looked at the stage, “Are you here for these guys?” You pointed at the industrial band on stage as the lights went low and they started the intro for their next song. At the back here it wasn’t as loud, and you could readily hear the two orcs.

“Yeah. They’re a new signing.” Durzub rolled his shoulders in a shrug, “I never really sign their sort, but it seems like they have a decent following.”

“Come on, mate, we’re here to chill out, not to talk work.” Xurek groaned and laid against the sticky bar top before recoiling in disgust.

“I know, you great oaf.” Durzub placed Xurek’s drink next to him, “Are you both here to see the show?” He asked, his voice slipping from ‘totally pissed off’ into something that was ‘gruff but polite’. Either way, his soft country accent made you smile before you took a few mouthfuls of cocktail for courage.

Pip answered before you could swallow, “We come on a Friday to wind down. The gigs are always just a bonus.”

She shot a look at you with her dark, goat eyes, warning you from speaking as she steered the conversation, “What about you guys? You here to bother people on their nights off?”

“Well, we know where we ain’t wanted.” Xurek shrugged his shoulders at Pip’s rudeness, “Sorry to harass you, but you don’t have to be a salty asshole about spilt drinks, you know.” He watched Pip’s temper flare and you ducked back as she slammed her hand against the bar top.

“You listen here you little asshole!”

“Little?” Xurek scoffed, “I tower over you, babe.”

Pip gave a bleat of anger before she swept her leg around you and cracked Xurek in the shin, “It was my new dress you ass for brains!” She hissed at him before she stood up to walk around you and face the orc head on.

“What do you want me to say, huh?!” Xurek goaded, “Oh I’m so sorry that my accident ruined something I couldn’t stop. Get over yourself thinking I did it on purpose!” He fumed with anger.

You leaned back before hopping out of your chair, taking the jug of cocktail in one hand and a tall glass in the other before you turned to Durzub, “Hey come on. They’re going to be screeching for a while. Want to go and sit on the balcony and watch?”

Durzub seemed a little taken back by the offer, “Oh, sure.” He uttered as he pulled Xurek’s drink away from him and then took his own in hand and following you towards the stairs, leading to the viewing area above the pit. You found two stools and a table and happily placed your drinks on it before leaning on the railing to look down at the band as they headbanged together on stage.

Durzub sat awkwardly for a moment before he coughed behind his head, “So, what is it that you do?” He asked as he leaned over the table, eyeing the mixture of liquor and fruit juice in your jug.

You turned from the show and smiled, “Oh nothing as interesting as music production. I just got hired at a new modelling agency.”

“Do you model then?” He asked with wide eyes, “Because you’re certainly…”

“Oh, God no. Nothing like that. I work with brands and secure deals and shoots. I work with Skull Crusher and Tombstone mostly.” You smiled and sipped cocktail through your straw.

Durzub tucked his hair back again with a sweep of his hand, “That explains the look then.” He smiled softly, “Do you get some sweet discounts?” He asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s never been cheaper to be a goth!” You cheered as you looked down at the rowdy beginnings of a mosh pit, then back to the bar.

You gave a great laugh, “Well, looks like their argument is sorted.” You pointed at Xurek with his bruised cheek. He slammed back his drink before storming away into the pit, rushing through a mosh pit before his eyes caught sight of a human among the others. You grinned at his expression. Dumb struck.

“Jesus. I hope they’re ready to be pestered.” Durzub chugged a few mouthfuls of mead before he scoffed, “Whenever he gets that look, he ends up heartbroken a week later.”

“Well, it might be different this time, you know?” You smiled back at Durzub, “Maybe this is the one!” You cooed.

“You’ve got fairy tales in your head and cotton candy to go with it. He’s going to have a one-night stand then not shut up about her for the next three weeks.” Durzub held up three fingers as he drank some more, “Or he’ll relay every little detail to us on our next outing. He has zero filter.”

“I can tell that much.” You laughed as you shuffled back in your seat, “What about you then, have you met your one?”

“My one?” Durzub scoffed, “Hardly. How old do you think I am?” He leaned on his fist and pointed back at himself, giving you a curious look.

You felt like this was a trap, “Are you doing this so you can get mad when I guess wrong?” You asked as you pushed the ice around in the glass.

“Hardly. I’m not sensitive.” He grumbled as his painted fingers tapped against the side of the pint glass.

“Hmm, if you say so.” You leaned over the table to squint at his face. You’d worked with a few orcs before, but most were young models, sharp featured and tall, broad in the shoulders. Durzub was the same, though his face had wrinkles in places which would suggest he was far over twenty years old, “Thirty-six.” You decided with a smile.

Durzub let out a low laugh, “Not far off actually. I’m thirty-eight.” He pointed to the stage, “And I used to do that. Played in a band until about five years ago. Started as a producer then. Never looked back.”

“Oh wow. Who did you used to play with?” You asked in awe.

“A gothic rock sort of deal.” He replied before he looked into your pleading eyes, and relented, “Zi Gijak.”

“No way.” You rushed to stand from your seat as you recognised the Orcish name, “Black Blood!?”

Durzub ducked his head, reaching for where his hat had sat before he realised, he wasn’t wearing it, “Keep your voice down, please.” He begged quietly, “I don’t need people in this place to recognise me.”

“How could they recognise you now? You look nothing like you did back in the day.” You stated before realising what you said sounded rude, “Not that you look bad now it’s just…”

He laughed at your awkwardness, “I know. I ditched the netting and bones a while ago.”

“You didn’t look half bad in it though, even five years ago.” You winked at him with a sudden rush of confidence, “Though I think this outfit suits you just as much.”

Suddenly, it was as though the intimidating exterior melted, and you watched Durzub’s face go flushed with embarrassment, “Thanks. It has been a change.”

Without making him any more embarrassed you changed the subject a little, “So what bands do you produce for now?” You asked.

“Quite a few. I used to work with SIREN before they got huge, but that sort of metal was never something I could do rather well, I thought.” He shrugged, “They’re with a more focused label now.”

“No way…This keeps getting better and better!” You uttered again.

“Better and better for you. They were a headache and a half for me!” Durzub chuntered into his drink before he swallowed the last bits of it, “I’m glad they’ve moved up. They were good for business.” He smirked over the edge of the pint glass.

“Only thinking of the money.” You tutted playfully, “That’s no way to treat your bands.” You joked.

“Oh no, but that makes me feel better knowing my weekly migraines are worth the agony.” Durzub chuckled as he watched the band on stage, “These guys ain’t half bad for a show though. I think I picked the best from the bucket.”

“They have an interesting ensemble.” You smirked at the leather clad demoness as she slinked along the stage before she growled from her stomach, a crop landing against the hand of a handsy looking fan in the front.

“Interesting but it’s the sort of thing that gets you recognised.” Durzub noted as he watched, “This place is a refuge for all kinds of people. I’m glad Cal has got this place running with Weldrick.”

“Who’s Cal? I’ve met Weldrick. Giant bright white minotaur, right? Build like a brick shit house with all the piercings?” You recalled.

Durzub nodded, “That’s him. He’s about eight foot tall too. Scariest mother fucker I ever did meet.” He shifted in his seat, “Cal is the co-owner, but he’s not around that often. He’s a vampire, but he’s not people fond.” The orc shrugged before offering you half a smile, “We all used to work together, believe it or not.”

“Wait…” Your mouth dropped open, “I’m actually stupid.”

“Cal was the singer of Black Blood. Weldrick ran our security back in the day.” He laughed at your open mouth before he leaned over to close your mouth with two large fingers. He brushed his fingers over your chin before leaning back and pointing to your drink, “Do you want anything else?”

“I’m okay thanks. I’ll keep your seat warm.” You joked as he stood up with a nod and grumbled about having something better than ‘shitty mead’.

“I’ve never seen Durzub ever sit and talk with someone in a bar.” A deep, gravelly voice rang out from behind you. You turned around in your chair to see a tall, human looking male watching you, his sunglasses perched on the end of his nose as he regarded you with a mild amount of curiosity from over the lenses. He reached out a hand awkwardly, “Cal.”

“As in…” You took his hand, and flinched at the stone coldness of his grip, “Co-owner of the bar, Cal?”

“The very same.” He shook your hand lightly before his hand disappeared quickly back into his pocket, “I just came to say hello. I was curious. He hates attention in these kinds of places…”

“Just like you then, apparently.” You observed as you turned on your seat to face him. He was a giant man, but stony cold, and overly pale, looking almost grey around his reflective, steel-coloured eyes. They shone red as he turned, the bouncing curls of black hair spilling over his shoulders before he reached for a cigarette packet and cursed, seeing it was empty with only his lighter inside.

“Cal?” Durzub returned with a large looking ale in his hand, “Weird time to show yourself. Unless you were planning to steal this one for a snack, hmm? As usual.” He scoffed.

“You know I’ve been off the blood for years…” Cal whispered as he rummaged in his other back pocket, before finding a small, slim packet of chewing gum, “I don’t…”

“Yeah. Save it. That’s what you said last time, Clarence.” Durzub huffed into his drink.

Cal’s back went ridged before he stooped over and unfolded the wrapper of his gum, “You don’t get to call me that.” He whispered again, his gravelly tone rumbling in the back of his throat before he slunk away, back into the shadows, and disappeared in a shadowy wave of his black hair.

“Sorry you had to see that.” Durzub rumbled from across the table, “Its…complicated.”

You span back around and smiled, “Don’t worry about it. I think Pip had more of a fight with Xurek.” You snickered as you turned to spy her sat at the bar, batting her eyelashes at Flix as he served, “Though I think she’s okay now. She’s turned her eyes on a certain someone.”

Durzub looked down at the bar and laughed as well, “Well I guess you know her type now.” He joked as he sipped at his ale.

“Yep. Scary pretty boys, who aren’t part of your friends.” You snickered as you sipped at the last of your cocktail and refreshed the glass.

The band on the stage purred their final song as you took another drink, and you looked at your phone with wide eyes at the time.

“I have to get up tomorrow for errands.” You lamented, looking at the clock. It was almost midnight, and you knew Pip would be here for hours if you left her to her own devices.

“So, this is where the night ends.” Durzub laughed before he finished the last of his own drink, “Here.” He tugged out his phone, “Let me give you my number?”

You nodded and took your phone out to exchange numbers before checking it was working and showing him the message came through okay.

“Thank you for tonight.” You smiled at him, “We should do this again.” You leaned over and carefully placed a kiss on his flushed cheek, “For an grumpy music producer, you’re funny to be around.” You took your bag and looked at Xurek, who was busy pressing a human against the far wall, “And look after Xurek, huh? Looks like he might just get himself into trouble again.” You descended the stairs just as the orcs started cheering for the male and shook your head.

After speaking to Pip, and confirming she had a taxi to get home, you exited the bar and shivered in the cold, before you felt a warm presence behind you, and a hand catch your own.

“Hey!” Durzub grunted as he caught your hand, “Let me walk you home?” He asked, “No way in hell I’m staying to watch those lot gawk at Xurek strip a human down.” He sneered. His sneer softened as you interlinked your fingers together and squeezed his hand before looping an arm through his own, leaning into his body heat.

“Sure. You can walk me home.” You leaned into his arm again and smiled, “I live three blocks away, so it’s a bit of a short walk.”

“Better to spend time with you.” Durzub whispered before he looked at the night sky, “I’m still sorry about what happened with Cal…”

“Honestly, it never happened, okay?” You patted the orc’s large arm, “We all have our differences and reasons.”

“Still. I was rude.” He huffed before he reached for his hat and tugged at the brim, “I’m glad I got to meet you at least tonight.” You tried to ignore the way he tugged at his bottom lip before he adjusted the decorative chain over his lip and smiled, still a little awkward.

“Me too.” You purred back at him.

The messages started off polite between the two of you, but it was quickly a regular thing for you both to message back within a minute or two depending on if Durzub was working in the studio or you were in meetings. You were both enamoured. It didn’t take long for you both to meet again, eating together in a restaurant which was a little bit too expensive for you. It was high end, and suited Durzub as he sat there eating, looking intimidating as he ate couscous and chopped vegetables before smiling and blushing with embarrassment as you complimented him and his outfit. For such a giant orc, with a bigger scowl, he was softened whenever you said something nice. Several nights together on dates lead to this one, finally going to his studio to see what he did, and to listen to something he had been working on. Excitement churned in your gut as you looked at the choker around your neck and touched the spikes around its surface before flicking the dog tag and grinning at yourself before you rushed for the door to meet Durzub.

“Hey!” You shouted at the orc. He was stood out on the pavement, dressed in an old print of a Black Blood shirt with a screaming orc and vampire on the front, blood dripping from both of their mouths. He was dressed in dark jeans, littered with pocket chains and a heavy leather duster to combat the cool breeze. He looked up from beneath his broad rim hat. Instantly, Durzub’s perpetual scowl turned into a small smile, and you took hold of his hand before leaning up to kiss his cheek before placing a soft kiss against his bottom lip. He was always a little slow to catch up, but he returned the kiss with a gentle rub of his tusks to your chin.

“Hey stranger.” He rumbled before he gestured to the building, “My studio is on the sixth floor.”

“This doesn’t look much like a record label building to me.” You hummed as Durzub led you into the reception. A naga waved him on up with you, looking back at her work with a hiss and a grumpy frown.

“Not yet it doesn’t. Wait until we get into the actual building. This is just the polite front for greeting people.” The elevator dinged as he pressed the button and the two of you climbed inside. He pushed the button for the sixth floor and you jittered with anxiety as it moved upwards slowly.

“I’m excited and nervous.” You whispered as the doors opened on floor two and let some more people in.

“Don’t be, baby. You’ll be fine.” Durzub soothed as you continued up.

The sixth floor was littered with records on the walls, gold, red, black and mixed dyes. You looked along the walls before Durzub tugged you down the carpeted hall. You followed a step or so behind, trying to read the framed records as you toddled behind him, little out of your depth. Durzub’s coat trailed behind him and you moved to not step on it as he stopped at his door. He unlocked it with a click of an electronic card and you watched the black door swing open to reveal the sound room.

“Wow.” You stepped inside in front of him and looked at the expensive sound equipment, keeping your hands to yourself to avoid being told off or ruining anything, “This is some expensive gear.” You grinned at him, “And pretty.” You peered past the soundproof glass to see the guitars and drum kit in the recording box and smiled at the pointed-v design one, knowing it was from when he played with Black Blood.

“I knew you’d spot that one.” Durzub said mildly before he threw his coat over a speaker and collapsed into his large office chair, the leather making him shiver with the cold against his arms, “This is where I spend most of my life, making kids realise that riffs are stupid in the wrong places.” He scoffed before tugging you a chair from the other soundboard and patting it, “Come sit. I have some things to show you.”

Carefully, you placed your coat on top of Durzub’s before joining him by the large computers, eyeing the two screens as he logged in, squinting at the screen.

“Fuck. Glasses.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled free a set of circle frame glasses, putting them on before cringing and looking back at you, “Not as young as I used to be…”

“You look cute in them.” You gushed as you scooted the roller chair forwards and made sure to sit as close to him as possible, “Being able to see is important, even if you don’t look as scary with glasses on.” You teased.

“Yeah…” He let the words drop off as he found what he was looking for and pulled free two sets of expensive headphones. Durzub leaned over and gently tucked them over your ears, holding them and holding up an ‘okay’ sign before he donned his own and pressed play. He leaned back in his chair and you sat impatiently before the noise of a gentle synth graced your ears, opening with a gentle melody before a guitar followed the same rhythm before chugging to life with slow riffs. It was gentle somehow still as the guitar started on a slowly moving rhythm along into the beginnings of a verse, sung by a vocalist you recognised as Durzub. The lyrics lilted about roses on a hill, growing in a graveyard around a forgotten tombstone before you grinned at the references to old vampire movies that the two of you enjoyed. The chorus was met with a litany of soft guitar and synth before a drum solo full of soft cymbal carried on. It was something made for the two of you, and you wondered just how long Durzub had spent making this song. Looking at the poorly hidden bags under his eyes, you figured it had been most nights after work.

In the closing synth of the son, you laid your head against Durzub’s arm, against the tattoo of the roses around the gravestone. You pressed your lips to his skin gently before smiling and tugging the headphones down to around your neck, smiling up at the orc. Durzub copied the motion with another small smile, reaching to stroke at the top of your head

“That was beautiful. It’s hard to believe you made that just for me.” You whispered against his warm skin as the orc flushed with embarrassment, “Did you mean the part about making love on graves?” You teased gently before you slipped from your own chair, and into his lap, your fingers sliding up over the tattoos on his arms, tracing the thorns of the roses down before you traced the edge of the stem curling over his collar bone.

“Maybe not. Stone gives you a bad back.” He rumbled as his pupils went wide, watching your fingers as they slipped under the collar of his t-shirt, “But I would worship you just the same.” His hands moved from the computer to your hips, his fingers pressing into the meat of your backside before he leaned forwards to kiss you. You gladly accepted the advance, kissing the orc back, your tongue licking at his lips before you traced the rings around his tusks and wrapped your arms tighter around his neck.

A soft moan escaped Durzub’s mouth as you pulled away. His lips were puffy and you leaned forwards to bite his lip, enjoying the second croak that escaped him as you leaned back on his thighs.

“What about this desk?” You asked under your breath.

Durzub grumbled, “There’s a lot of…” Your hand meeting his crotch shorted his brain for a moment, “I can make room.” He grumbled before he pushed the keyboard and monitor aside, leaving the desk free for you both. You laid back over the wood and grinned as you tugged on one of his tusks, forcing his face down so you could lay another kiss on his lips. Durzub moaned again as you reached up into his dark hair, tugging the braids at his scalp.

“Maybe you should make good on your song lyrics.” You purred as you kissed his cheeks and then bit at his neck before sucking a mark under his ear.

“Fuck.” Durzub hissed before he leaned over you, his fingers tugging at your clothes before he admired the collar around your neck and gave it a tug, “I hope you didn’t have any other plans.”

Neither of you saw the audio recording button flashing red.

‘Everything was recorded. I’m keeping it. See you at the bar. x’

#orc x reader #male orc x reader #orc x gender neutral reader #orc #orcs #monster x reader #monster bf #monster bf x reader #monster boy x reader #monster boyfriend #my writing #original works #reader insert

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ilikemesometaetaes · 3 years

Text

Don’t Hold Your Breath ~ jjk

Chapter Six (M)

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes

•••> Summary: As the CEO of an international government security company, you have the world at your fingertips. Living life lavishly and extravagantly has become the norm. Behind closed doors, however, you host a past that renders you lonely and, quite frankly, miserable. It’s only a matter of time before your past comes back to bite you right in the ass.

•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader, Taehyung/Reader (slight)

•••> Inspo: This fic is inspired by the song “SAVAGE ANTHEM” by PARTYNEXTDOOR. Thank you to @dariangarcia, @btssmutgalore, and @junghoseokit for supporting my work. To my mamas, Kaitlin, Adora, Lauren, Lanie, Lu, and Sher.

•••> Word Count: 7.81k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Warnings: angst, dirty talk, sexual teasing, heartbreak, cursing, pining, depression, breakup, emotional instability, arguing | Warnings are written specifically to chapter.

Taglist: @dariangarcia @apurpledheart @itsgottabeyoo-ngs @hytibm @namjinsbaby @ggukkieland @fan-ati--c

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, say so in a comment to this chapter or the DHYB Main Page, or send me an ask!

NAVIGATION: Chapter Five (M) <- | -> Chapter Seven (M) -> Mini-Masterlist -> Series Masterlist

•••> Official Playlist

~#~

“I put the dirt into dirtbag. Still got your jacket in my bag.”

THEN.

“Kookie!” You screamed in between breaths, eyes watering at the struggle. “Stop! Please!”

“No way!” His laugh was buried in your hair as he pressed his face against the back of your head. “Apologize!”

“For what?” You wheezed, attempting to get away from the curling fingers that tickled your ribs relentlessly. His long legs were wrapped around your body, restricting your movement and effectively taking away almost any opportunity to escape.

“For calling me a singing demon!” His hands continued their assault, sending you into another laughing fit. You fought helplessly against his tattooed arms.

You wanted to bite back, but the lack of air in your lungs prevented you from doing so. Your heart beat wildly, adrenaline spiking and arms flailing against his grip. Desperation flooding your mind, you wrapped your hand around the one that caged your neck and dug your nails into his flesh in hopes that the pain would get him to weaken his hold.

Jungkook only laughed again and hummed teasingly. “Oh, just like that. Harder, baby.”

Squirming didn’t help much, but when you shifted your hips and felt something poking into your spine, you huffed with defeat on the horizon. His obvious boner signified that he liked your struggle- a clear indicator that there was no way he was letting you go any time soon.

Unless…

With another shift of your hips to grind your ass upwards on him, seating his dick between your clothed ass cheeks, you let the situation take over your body with your brain rewiring into a horny mindset in order to distract him.

“Jungkook,” You whispered through a gasp, hoping the change of pace would throw him off. It was a stunt you always pulled; whether it be during an argument or sex, changing the pace would unfocus your boyfriend’s attention and give you the upper hand.

Sure enough, Jungkook’s embrace around you loosened so that he could give himself more room to slide his manhood against you.

“Oh, baby...” He grunted into your ear with a sliver of surprise tainting his lust.

Slowly, so as to not trigger him, you slid one hand down his stomach and slid two fingers below the waistband of his shorts. With your body on top of him, you couldn’t go further inward, so you settled on harshly scraping your nails across his hip while you dug your other hand harder into his forearm.

“Please.” You said with more air in your lungs. Finally, you could breathe.

“Are you begging for me to fuck you?” His dick twitched against you, desperate to bury itself between your thighs. “Or are you pleading for mercy? Tell me, Y/N,”

Jungkook flipped the two of you over so that your chest pressed into the bed and his entire body pinned you to the mattress with a swift cant of his hips. “Which one is it?”

For a moment, you rolled your eyes and struggled to look at him from your compromised position. It wasn’t until your eyes caught sight of the numbers on the clock sitting on the nightstand that you began struggling with a new burst of concern in your mind.

“Jungkook!” You wheezed. “The time!”

“Answer my question, Y/N. I can stay here all night. The stage can wait.”

“But you’ll be late!” Your voice increased in volume.

“Only if you continue avoiding my question…” Jungkook trailed off for a moment before he leaned down to murmur softly in your ear. “Well, I’ll only be late if you refuse to let go of your pride to ask for mercy and beg for my cock instead. I will rearrange your guts if that is what you’re asking for.”

You huffed in frustration, the desire to fuck your boyfriend dissipating with his words. You knew that Jimin would be through the roof by now, searching high and low for the lead singer of BTS to dress him properly.

“Mercy.” You finally grumbled in defeat, not wanting to delay him any longer.

Almost disappointedly, Jungkook grunted as he removed his weight from on top of you. “Fine.”

“I’ll go turn on the car.” You got up and swiped the keys off of your dresser, thankful that you were still dressed in your internship clothes.

“You go do that.” Jungkook chuckled whilst sliding his shorts off of his body to reveal a very obvious boner tenting his boxers that you pretended to be oblivious of. “You’re a master at turning me on so I trust you with that.”

“Ew.” You grimaced at the poorly-delivered joke. “That was terrible.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was clever.” Jungkook chided.

“Not at all.” You quipped. After you watched him slide a pair of jeans up his muscular legs, you turned to leave. You just needed to make sure he got dressed. “I’ll be in the car.”

~#~

Jimin’s knowledge of art always mystified you. His prowess wasn’t the type of intelligence like knowing how Picasso depicted the loss of innocence in Guernica or how the melting clocks of Dali introduced surrealism to the world of art- no, that was Taehyung’s strong-suit.

Jimin knew how to create his own version of art that left viewers wistful and in absolute awe by making a stage the vessel of his masterpieces.

As you sat on the balcony, overlooking the crowd while they all thrashed and jumped to the beat of Hoseok’s bass drum and the duo of guitars that was Namjoon and Jungkook, you just had to sit back in your chair and stare at the composition that was Jimin’s show.

Flashes of blue and red lights swept across the crowd, printing themselves temporarily into the crowd’s retinas so that when the opposite color came back, a light hue of purple was brought into the experience for a fleeting moment. Short puffs of fire whenever Namjoon strummed a power chord warmed your face, even from the distance in which you sat from the stage, and lasers shot through the crowd every time Yoongi penetrated the sounds of his group with the keys of his keyboard.

Graphics on the jumbotron behind the band, which were also of Jimin’s creation, outlined each member with curls of dark, tentacle-like wisps that matched the purple hue of the crowd with its raven color.

The last song of the setlist, Blue and Grey, was one you were all too familiar with. The lights faded to a soft blue for a moment as Taehyung began the first strong notes with his bass and the crowd in the venue whooped and hollered in excitement- Blue and Grey was BTS’ most popular song. A year and a half into their journey of being a band and they already had a crowd favorite.

As Taehyung continued his bass line with his guitar and tattooed strumming arm put on display by Jimin’s spotlight, Jungkook leaned into the mic and began strumming his own guitar.

“Where is my angel?”

You sighed and leaned forward in your seat, loving the way Jungkook’s voice carried throughout the performance hall.

Taehyung accompanied Jungkook with the intro until Hoseok joined in to transition into the first verse with his high hat and snare drum.

Once the chorus hit, you couldn’t help but stand from your seat as you began to feel the power of BTS’ music rocking the venue.

“I just wanna be happier. To melt the cold me.”

Jungkook’s neck veins bulged from his skin as he belted out the notes, sweat dribbling down his temples from exertion. Even as he huffed for breath in between his lines, the image of him dressed in all black and owning the stage while ripping his fingers through his guitar strings was one you could never get tired of.

The songs were full of angst- the dark, unspoken feelings that not many people talked about- and you loved how you heard them from Jungkook through music. If only he were this honest when it was just the two of you.

“Don’t say it’s okay, ‘cause it’s not okay.” Jungkook closed up his lines with a heartbreaking tone that every fan in the crowd sang along with as Namjoon prepared to sing his part. For a brief moment, your boyfriend met your eyes across the large venue.

“Please don’t leave me alone. It hurts too much.”

~#~

NOW.

You walked into your building, grateful for the warm protection it offered against the freezing winter of New York City.

Noticing the lack of staff around, being that there was only the elevator operator and the receptionist sitting behind the marble counter, you glanced at your watch to check just how long you spent working.

20:17, your watch read. You had been working in front of computer screens and reading contracts for almost 9 hours.

“Greetings, ma’am!” The receptionist stood from his chair. “May I be of any service to you this evening?”

You shook your head to the man and continued on your path to the elevator where the other employee in the lobby waited to take you up. “None needed. I’ll be leaving momentarily.”

“Very well. Please let me know if you need anything.” He sat back down and turned his gaze to the computer in front of him.

The sound of your pumps echoed against the vast but empty room until you stopped in front of the elevator where the woman already had the doors opening in preparation.

“Good evening, ma’am.” She said lowly.

“ ‘Evening.” You responded, stepping inside without another word. The woman kept the conversation at that, which you appreciated, so you smiled at her in gratitude after you placed your key in the penthouse slot. She returned your smile with her own before the doors closed to encase you in silence.

The ride up was quiet, warranting you to pull out your phone so that you could read over your conversation with Taehyung again.

Why am I wearing think socks? I hate thick socks.

Read at 8:01 pm

Trust me. You’ll regret it if you don’t.

Is that so? Why?

Read 8:03 pm

Just wear the damn socks, Y/N.

Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?

Read 8:04 pm

Negative, captain

Why am I a captain now

Read 8:04 pm

Cuz I said so. Now stop talking or you’ll make me give away my position

Alright.

Read 8:05 pm

I said stop talking

…?

Read 8:05 pm

Fucking hell.

You let a small giggle slip past your lips at how normal the text conversation was. It was as if you never stopped talking to him, slipping into the normalcy of having Taehyung back in your life as quickly as it had been to cut him out of it. You zoned out for a moment in thought.

The strange sensation of friendship didn’t take any getting used to as it settled itself back into your bones and filled your heart with warmth like it never left- like the ice covering the beating organ was only temporary. As you stood alone, staring shallowly at the increasing floor numbers, you smiled in content.

The elevator slowed as the cabin came close to reaching the top floor, bringing you back to your senses. Sliding your phone back into the pocket of your slacks, you looked up once the elevator doors opened, only to drop your briefcase to the floor loudly.

Jungkook sat against the wall beside your door with his knees tucked under his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs. At the sound of your clumsiness clattering on the ground, his gaze snapped to you as he scrambled to stand up.

Anger flooded you immediately. You wanted to backhand him and rip his hair out. You wanted to scream and cry and lose your shit. However much you wanted to hurt him, though, you could not afford catching an assault charge on the man who defaced you once before.

There was a break of silence as you stood staring at him, unsure of how to handle the punch in your mood while the memories were forced to surface in your mind.

“Y/N…” Jungkook trailed, breaking the tangible barrier of tension. He took a step forward whilst obviously hesitating. “I-”

Instead of screaming at him, you went for the more sophisticated and controlled route to keep your lividity at bay whilst stopping his sentence in its tracks.

“How did you get up here?” It was a sensible question to ask. You just wanted to prevent him from deepening the conversation.

“I pulled some strings.” He murmured, looking down almost shyly, before piping up with more confidence. “But listen, I-”

“Save it.” You cut him off again, unable to control your facade much longer. “Get the fuck out of my face.”

His anxious expression turned worried- desperate. You didn’t miss the way his eyes became more expressive than you’ve ever seen them. “Please, Y/N.”

“Please what, Jungkook?”

“Please just give me a moment to speak.”

For a beat, you pondered his request. Taehyung’s words weighed heavily on your mind. We needed to talk.

Fuck talking. You have been done talking for ages.

“Wow.” You scoffed coldly, ice barriers slamming back into place over your heart. Taehyung had been able to melt them away, but Jungkook put them right back with fierce determination to completely ruin you. “You just want to take everything from me, huh?”

“Y/N, what-“ He blinked cluelessly, caught off-guard by your sarcasm.

“I gave you years to speak, Jungkook. I gave you everything.” You stepped forward, the boiling rage overtaking your body, and came to a stop in front of him with the fury of a charging bull. You wanted him to feel small and vulnerable.

“What else could I possibly give you? I have nothing left.” He took everything. The veins in your body were emptied and exhausted of every single ounce of energy to fight for someone.

You were unaware of the way Jungkook’s fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white and his nails dug into his palms.

You failed to notice how much he trembled under your gaze, physically struggling to protect his butterfly from your wrath.

Your vicious swings at the dainty being of hope were nothing compared to what he, himself, had done to it. Jungkook found it ironic that you gave him an aspect that he was just barely strong enough to protect yet took the darker things from inside him and destroyed them as if they were mere placeholders- as if you were his puppeteer.

You were too stressed to realize the toll it took on Jungkook to keep his act together. He needed to keep the door open long enough to be your friend. Anything to prevent losing you. Earlier, his demons swooped in and overtook him, suffocating him to silence once again, but for the first time, they ebbed away at the mere thought of you.

As he walked down the street with his stage persona flowing, the simple thought of your name empowered his butterfly to beat its wings so fiercely that it blew away all of the impending smoke and dark tentacles of smog that threatened to overtake his vision.

Once he thought of you, he thought of everything.

Your anger was justified. He understood that now. Watching you huff breath after breath following your question was somehow relieving- you still cared enough to be pissed off. Jungkook forced himself to look on the bright side of the encounter with you; he made himself see that you were still passionate about the past. You were passionately upset and he couldn’t be happier.

He had seen you with Taehyung. He saw the way you were happy again. Jungkook wanted a part of that because he was too selfish to back off and stay dormant in your life- too determined to make you silence his demons.

Even if it was just as a friend. He could deal with that.

“You’re right.” Jungkook stated.

You paused in your tracks at the concession. Anger no longer blazing- staying right where it was- you quirked an eyebrow at him. Any time the two of you fought, he would never come even close to alluding that you were right.

“You’re right and I’m sorry, Y/N.”

An apology.

Words always seemed minimal to you. Unless to communicate information, you found that words filled with feeling didn’t mean much from someone you didn’t know.

After Jungkook, anyone that told you they loved you was promptly deemed a liar. Kate worked hard to make sure you were aware of the fact that she would actually take a bullet for you because of how much she loved you. She spent moment after moment proving to you that she cared deeply even though she didn’t have to put up with you.

Your parents, despite not talking to you much, expressed their love and gratitude whenever you sent them money. You knew they were hard workers like you and didn’t have time to worry about trivial things like words. Instead of taking the easy way out by simply telling you that they loved you, they showed you.

But Jungkook, who claimed to love you in the way that a lover would- the only person to actually do so- lied.

You could never trust the words in that way again.

Still, you couldn’t help but be taken by surprise.

“I’m right? Really?”

“Y/N, you’ve been right since the beginning. I took and took and just stopped giving back. I understand that you’re angry and I want to fix it so that you don’t hate me anymore. I want to make it right.”

You were silent. You hadn’t expected him to admit his fault so easily. Jungkook changing the pace of your conversation ruined your momentum, sending you stumbling and scrambling for thoughts.

Jungkook sighed for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line as he let his eyes drop to the floor in your silence. He wasn’t about to lose the opportunity to elaborate further, though.

“Look, I know I fucked up. Bad. I know you can’t possibly forgive me right now, but I want you to know that I’m sorry for the things I’ve done to you.”

Your automatic reaction to being emotionally pushed came back, closing you down and disguising you as a cold woman.

“What the fuck do you know? What the fuck do you know about how badly you fucked up? I don’t need your lame-ass apology, Jungkook. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. Stop pretending that you do. Sure, we fucked a little and kissed a few times, but that’s all that it was.” You grit out the last few words, lying through your teeth. “Now please move. You’re blocking the door.”

Shockingly, Jungkook obeyed. He stepped aside and clasped his hands behind his back without another word, allowing you to walk to your door and open it.

Don’t look back. Don’t look back.

No matter how many times you repeated the words in your head, commanding yourself to abide by the mantra as if it were law, the emotions in your head managed to break through and force your head to turn back after stepping through the doorway.

Jungkook stood as still as a statue, staring at you with a blank expression that was almost eerie. You glanced down quickly, unable to maintain the eye contact, and noticed that his knuckles were clenched.

It was almost as if he was a completely different person because of the fact that his appearance was drastically different from that of BTS Jungkook. The man that stood in front of you was no rockstar. He was not an idol nor a role model that millions looked up to.

He was a scared boy. The fear that riddled his eyes was extremely difficult to miss and it made him seem almost small whilst standing in the small junction between the elevator and your penthouse.

You shut the door in his face impulsively, hoping that you wouldn’t have to see him again.

Backing away from the door slightly, you waited until you heard the elevator signal that its doors were closing before going to look through the peephole. You finally released your breath and slumped against the door when you saw that he had left.

Without his presence putting you on edge and keeping you on your toes, you could finally reflect on the conversation that just transpired.

He admitted his wrongdoings and apologized for them. He showed you his belly and became vulnerable. He admitted defeat.

Jungkook wasn’t an apologetic person in the slightest; he wasn’t a forgiving one either. In all the years that you had known him, he was headstrong and stubborn- if you looked past the part where he closed himself off and cheated, of course.

This Jungkook, the one you had just spoken to, was not the one you remember. Maybe you were right. Maybe you didn’t know him anymore.

Your phone vibrating in your pocket distracted you from pondering any further over the epiphany, prompting you to pull it out and fumble with it to get away from the confusing subject. You were thankful for the distraction.

Kim Taehyung (BTS)

I’ll be out front in 15 mins

Cursing internally, you left the idea of Jungkook behind you and rushed to change into clothes better suited for the cold weather.

It was a given that a small smile pulled at the corner of your lips when you slid thick tube socks over your ankles. You hadn’t actually worn tube socks in ages because they didn’t exactly go with your usual professional style of suits and heels.

You zipped your coat up about three-fourths of the way before turning to look at yourself in your mirror with a huff.

Suddenly, you were bombarded with a memory as it flashed before your eyes.

“You know you look good, babe.”

You giggled as Jungkook came up behind you to look at you in the reflection, setting his chin on your shoulder while he used his tongue to toy with the hoop pierced into his lip.

“Thanks, Kook. Just want to look my best is all.” You met his eyes in your bedroom mirror, smiling softly.

“Well, you look beautiful.”

You were left staring at the empty space where his face was, unsure of how to react as you stumbled back from the intrusion. Another meaningless scene came barging into your senses before you could process the first.

“Wow…” You trailed off as you looked at the angry red spot on Jungkook’s chest. A brand new tattoo, the size of your hand, raised out of his skin and shined under the luminescent light of the tattoo parlor. With the tattoo artist cleaning up his station behind the two of you, you were left to admire his beauty in his reflection.

Jungkook stood shirtless in front of the full-length mirror as he smiled brightly at the last tattoo to complete his set. Your eyes drank in the way each exhibit of inked art contrasted with his smooth, caramel expanse of skin while you stood behind him.

The new piece, which was almost large enough to touch the Chinese characters stamped onto the side of his neck and the back of his ear, was a depiction of an angel falling from the heavens. The detail in the blackening feathers attached to the angel’s back was mesmerizing, drawing all of the attention from the rest of the tattoos covering Jungkook’s chest.

“Is there any special meaning behind it?” You asked, knowing that your boyfriend had a few meaningless tattoos that were part of his ‘woke-up-and-it-was-there’ collection.

For a moment, Jungkook stayed silent as he studied the work of art in the mirror. It wasn’t until you called his name again that he answered your question while meeting your gaze in the reflection.

“Nah. It just looked really cool to me.”

You pressed your hand to your forehead and looked away from your mirror, wondering why- now, of all times- you just had to remember those small memories.

You didn’t miss him- you know you didn’t. But something within you twisted at the thought of being with him- the memory of how it felt to be his.

The disconnect between the feelings of your heart and the thoughts of your mind, ever so obvious, shifted. His apology was unexpected, to say the least, but it was also surprisingly heartfelt and pulling on your need to forgive.

Saved by the bell, your landline phone began to ring.

You rushed to the bedside table and grabbed the phone from its dock, pulling it to your ear.

“Ms. Y/L/N? It’s the front desk. Mr. Kim Taehyung is here and waiting for you.”

“Got it. Thank you. I’ll be down in a moment.” You hung up the phone and grabbed your wallet and keys before shuffling over to your desk to grab your briefcase on instinct.

“Wait,” you spoke aloud, laughing at yourself and withdrawing your reach. “I don’t need that.”

As you opened the door to your penthouse, the sound of something lightly hitting your door had you looking down.

A small, navy blue bag, the size of your palm, swung from the doorknob and hit lightly against the wood from the momentum of you opening your door. Confused, you unhooked the loop from the doorknob and looked inside the bag to find a familiar-looking box inside.

Gingerly, you pulled it out and opened it. In the way of the box’s contents was a folded piece of notebook paper with your name scrawled across the top in Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

You held your breath after reading the note and looked down at the small charm.

Since you gave me yours, I’ll give you mine. -jk

In the fabric of the satin display lay the familiar gold chain that Jungkook gifted you those few years ago, but, instead of the small J that you were so familiar with, lay your own initial.

You knew Jungkook’s way with words well enough to know that the small note connected his intentions to the chain. You were instantly pulled back to the night that he gifted the necklace to you in the first place.

“It’s beautiful. Happy one-year, babe.” You whispered onto his lips with a smile.

After you sat back into your seat, Jungkook walked to your side of the table to put the chain around your neck. “I obviously have the describe how much this necklace means so that you never take it off.”

You laughed. “I wouldn’t even dream of taking it off, Kook.”

“I still need to explain. It was like a message from heaven when I saw them in the jewelry store.” He pouted, returning to his seat. “So the idea with these is that we’re wearing parts of each other. You’re wearing the part of me that belongs to you and I’m wearing the part of you that belongs to me.”

Jungkook continued as he raised his glass. “So even though you think this necklace is yours because it’s your letter, it’s actually mine.”

You cocked your head in confusion, struggling to understand the concept. “What are you talking about?”

“It sounded so much better in my head, I swear.”

You understood the idea now.

Push off the emotions. Don’t think about them.

You were hellbent on ignoring the weakness, knowing full well what path you would go down if you let them get to you.

Instead, you made your way down to the lobby with the bag gripped tightly in your mitten-clad hands, heading to the desk with determination furrowing your brow. Even as Taehyung stood from the small sofa in the lobby upon seeing you, you did not spare him a glance.

Forcefully, you thrusted the bag into the receptionists’ face, internally wincing at your rude gesture.

“Please put this in the lost and found. I have no idea where it came from.”

The receptionist did well at hiding his expression, however, you could still see a sense of somber recognition behind his eyes. You decided not to press him seeing as you want to avoid the topic of Jungkook like the plague.

“Understood, ma’am.” He took the bag from your grasp before you had the chance to rethink addressing his slip of emotion, placing it in a drawer by his knee. He looked back up and gestured to Taehyung after locking the drawer. “Mr. Kim is here for you.”

You sighed in a mild sense of accomplishment, forcing yourself to shut out the regret and sadness for giving away a formerly precious memory, before turning to face Taehyung with a small smile to mask your inner turmoil. Your smile faltered when you noticed that Taehyung mirrored the same expression on his face that the receptionist wore.

“What?” You asked, walking to him.

“I just-” He looked down for a moment, scowling, and you noticed he had placed his small barbell back into his eyebrow. “-nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Why won’t you tell me anything?” The two of you had walked to the door, stopping before going out into the cold so that you could finish your conversation.

“Like I said before, it’s not my place to say or judge.”

Taehyung opened the door to an icy gust of wind before you could protest, chilling you into a mind-numbing stupor as you whispered, “Holy fucking shit.”

“Good god, it is freezing.” Taehyung mumbled, linking an arm around your body and ushering you towards his SUV across the sidewalk.

Once sat inside the warmth of the cabin, you shivered in satisfaction at the heat gracing your body.

“Please tell me we’re not going to be outside for whatever we’re doing.” You pleaded to him. The light from the city was filtered by the darkened car windows, however, you could still see Taehyung’s shoulders moving up and down when he chuckled.

“Unfortunately, we are, but fortunately, I brought some heat packs for us.”

You whined in protest, looking up to the GPS screen in front of the driver to see if you could identify where the two of you were going. Without a route plotted, you were left even more curious.

About twenty minutes of small talk and a brief roast session targeting Hoseok later, you sat in front of the ice skating rink at the Rockefeller Center.

“We’re ice skating?” You asked, suddenly in shock. You hadn’t been ice skating since-

No. Stop it. Your mind warred with itself as it suppressed the memory threatening to spill over into your eyes.

“You’re quite the detective.” Taehyung’s sentence was drenched in sarcasm, functioning as the perfect distraction, and prompted you to lightly shove him with a giggle as you exited the vehicle.

“I thought I was a captain.” You pouted against the cold, pulling your hat down on your head even further in hopes of retaining your body heat and warmth from the van.

“You are.” Taehyung laughed again. “Captain Detective.”

You only rolled your eyes at his playfulness before you turned to face the rink from the sidewalk. A person passing behind you and bumping into your back lightly had you cursing New York City’s busy and bustling population.

Seeing all of the people on the rink, you instantly remembered that you did not inform Jay of your whereabouts.

“Do we have security?” Worry riddled your brain as you turned to look at him with your eyes widening in a panic. You became hyperaware of all of the possible outcomes to Taehyung being identified in such a crowded place.

Taehyung sighed as he walked you up to the ticket booth. “We don’t. I just want to have a normal and plain but fun time with my friend- without someone glaring at me like they don’t want to be here while they breathe down my neck.”

Despite understanding his statement, you couldn’t help the automatic stress to being in public without any form of protection.

“Taehyung,” You warned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N,” He mocked your tone childishly before leveling it to his regular voice. “Relax, weirdo. We’re here to have fun and people are too busy having their own fun to notice us.”

“I doubt that.”

It wasn’t until you got your rental skates tightly secured onto your feet and began walking toward the ice that Taehyung mentioned a vital detail that he definitely should have mentioned prior to arriving at the center.

“You what?” You were baffled to say the least.

“I can’t skate.” He sheepishly brought his hand to the back of his head and adjusted his trapper hat under your scrutiny.

“Then why did we come?” You were almost yelling at that point.

“Because Brian told me that you liked ice skating!” Taehyung gripped at your fingers tightly, anxiety getting the best of him.

Fucking hell, Brian.

“Did he?” Your laugh was almost hysterical because of how wrong he was. You were becoming increasingly hesitant about giving your personal assistant a raise now.

Still, it was worth the effort. Brian was just trying to help the world’s most popular bassist when he came to him in need of information. It was a decent attempt.

“Yeah,” Taehyung huffed. “He did.”

“Well, Tae, I’ll have you know,” You moved towards the ice rink with determination. “I haven’t been ice skating in ages and I hardly like it. Hopefully, I still have muscle memory.”

“Oh god.” Taehyung groaned, tipping his head back as the feeling of imminent and utter chaos ensued. “Fucking hell, Brian.”

As soon as you stepped on the ice, you realized that you were still perfectly coordinated enough to complete the task.

Taehyung, on the other hand, clung to the walls like the world was attempting to swallow him into the ground. Dutifully, you stood next to him with a cautious hand on his back in the case that he went tumbling.

The sight was one to behold.

Kim Taehyung, hard core rockstar- the physical definition of a stereotypical ‘bad boy’- with tattoos littering his skin and a glistening eyebrow piercing that was winking at you from under his gray trapper, stood hunched over and afraid as he moved baby step-by-baby step to proceed further around the rink. You couldn’t help but giggle as the man who possessed the prowess of an elegant panther on stage adopted the likes of a stumbling newborn giraffe within the span of five minutes.

You were still concerned for him despite how funny it was. Tentatively, you reached your hand to grip his shoulder and urged him to look at you.

“Tae, are you okay? We can do something else if you’d like.”

“No, it’s okay.” He wheezed in effort. “I got this.”

Making a show out of how brave he was, Taehyung stood up straight on shaky legs and began progressing forward by attempting to walk on the ice.

“I can show you how t-” Taehyung cut off your offer before you could finish it.

“I’ve been shown countless times how to skate and the best I can do is walk and maybe slide forward a little. I’m a lost cause, Y/N.” Even though he seemed upset, Taehyung couldn’t help but crack a smile at how clumsy he was.

You smiled pitifully at your clumsy friend before you stepped in front of him. “Here, hold onto my shoulders and we’ll slide forward together.”

All Taehyung could do was begrudgingly agree, hating the idea of having to lean on you for support but wanting to remain close to you for the majority of the night. Once he placed his hands tightly on your shoulders, you moved.

At first, you skated slowly so that Taehyung could adjust to the feeling of being pulled forward. Once he got the hang of keeping his legs locked so that you could move around easier, you skated at a normal speed.

After about ten minutes of joking around and catching Taehyung’s slipping form a handful of times, your mind was left free and without defense.

You hadn’t realized how vulnerable you were because of it.

“Y/N, slow down! I can’t go that fast!”

Your breathing came to a halt at the voice that echoed in your ears.

“Here, hold my hand and we’ll skate together.”

Panicking, you rushed your mind to shut it out. No. Stop.

Unknowingly, the chaos in your mind and the desperate need to get away from the memories had you gradually increasing your own speed to subconsciously escape your thoughts.

Taehyung’s nervous laugh and call of your name in warning fell on deaf ears while you furrowed your eyebrows in concentration.

“See? It’s easy. Just step and lean. Step- and lean.” His hand clutched yours as if he was trying to squeeze all of the blood from your fingers but you only squeezed back in reassurance.

“Don’t let me fall, please.”

Taehyung’s skate crashing into the back of yours served as the perfect distraction, yet it only lasted for a split second as the two fo you went tumbling to the ice in a hauntingly familiar manner.

In the process of falling, Taehyung had managed to wrap his arms around your waist and twist his body so that he could take most of the impact from the ice. Landing on top of him with an ‘oof’ reminded you of the last time you went ice skating.

Even with your face mere centimeters from your friend’s, all you saw was him.

Taehyung’s small puffs of air against your lips were an indicator of how close you were to kissing him. Truly, you could kiss him if you wanted to, needing only to relax your neck and let your head fall to close the rest of the minimal gap between you. He looked up at you with wide eyes, holding onto your gaze with an unreadable expression on his face.

All you saw, however, was a small mole dotting the underside of his lips. Fuck, you wanted to kiss Taehyung and rid yourself of the nightmare, but you couldn’t shake the sensation of how wrong it felt to kiss anyone but Jungkook.

“Y/N,” Taehyung called your name cautiously and pulled you from your thoughts. Instantly, your eyes welled with tears at the realization of how fucked you were.

You yanked yourself from him with abandon, needing to get far away from the reminder that you couldn’t move on.

Kim Taehyung was mature. He was kind and respectful- everything you could ask for in a man- yet the thoughts of Jungkook and the good memories you had with him outweighed the bad, preventing you from truly letting go.

Before Taehyung could protest, you stood and left him on the ice, making for a quick exit. You wanted to go back and help him up so that he wasn’t in danger, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face in this setting.

Instead, you skated off the rink and walked to the skate rental area, plopping down on the bench weakly to untie the laces. Once you did so, you set them on the counter and waited for your boots with your eyes on the ground. You didn’t want anyone to see you on the brink of crying.

“Y/N!” Taehyung’s voice was loud and attention-grabbing. You had half the mind to be concerned that he would cause people to notice him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you finally got your boots and rushed to put them on. Taehyung was finally off the ice when you slid the first boot on.

“Y/N,” He called your name again, awkwardly approaching you with the blades still on his feet. “Please, talk to me.”

You could only sniffle in response and continue to put your boots back on, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You’d kept them at bay thus far but Taehyung was making it extremely difficult as his comfort approached you. The welcome yet heartbreaking aura he exhumed paired with your teetering emotional stability wouldn’t fare well in such a public setting.

Without hesitation, you stood and walked away once you were done securing your shoes back on your feet. Again, you felt the urgent need to be alone.

And again, Taehyung was right behind you as he ran without putting his shoes back on.

“Y/N!” He grabbed you as he called your name more sternly, forcing you to face him. Your eyes met his briefly before you looked back down to the pavement and cursed yourself once a tear slipped out. “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Because I-” Your breath caught in your throat as it constricted due to the beginning of a sob building in your chest. You cleared your throat and struggled to breathe your way through your response- one you had trouble communicating. “-I just can’t.”

Taehyung grimaced, looking around with concern, before he ushered your body to begin walking away from the busy area.

Once you were a good distance down the street, he grabbed both of your shoulders and forced you to face him once again. Away from the well-lit area of the ice rink, the only light that shone in the middle of the dark night was that of the street lights. With bated breath, you looked up at your friend with your mouth closed tightly so that the sob in your chest wouldn’t come barging past your lips.

The pain was nearly unbearable. It anguished you, knowing that you were stupid enough to think that you could eventually move on from Jungkook. It pained you, being aware of the fact that Taehyung had offered himself to you and you did nothing but continue to look at Jungkook.

But most of all, it hurt that you still wanted Jungkook.

If only you could reach into your chest and tear your heart out so that you couldn’t feel anymore. If only you could shut off your feelings so that it didn’t agonize you like this. If only it were that easy.

Under the light of the street lamps with Taehyung’s look of pity- the one he held as he looked at you across the club on that dreadful night those few years ago- on you, you broke.

As you began sobbing, Taehyung pulled you against his body and backed up into the darkness to give you the privacy to cry without being seen.

The pain stabbed your heart repeatedly; quick blows, shallow at first, became increasingly deep as you drowned in the memories of what once was.

Falling so passionately in love became your biggest regret. For so long, you hated the idea. You hated the fact that you still loved Jungkook notwithstanding the things he had done. You denied the fact until you started seeing the good memories again- until it was an unavoidable and objective truth.

The truth that you still loved him.

As Taehyung held you tightly in his embrace while you held your hands to your face and dug your nails into your skin, you sobbed uncontrollably at how completely and royally fucked you were.

“W-why-” You blubbered into your palms. “-why do I-I still lo-ove him?”

“Because your heart wants what it wants, Y/N. You have no control over that.”

At this point, you had to tell him how you felt- how you truly felt.

“I w-wish that it wa-anted you. I’m so sorry, T-Tae.”

“Hey, now. Don’t say that. It’s a waste of time to wish for things that you have no control over. Don’t waste a wish on something stupid like that.” Taehyung pressed his face to the top of your head, pressing his lips there to leave a small kiss. “Besides, I have someone waiting for me back home so you don’t need to worry anymore.”

Instantly, you looked up at him in shock while still hiccuping. “You do?”

“Of course.” Taehyung laughed warmly, smiling down at you. “I wasn’t gonna be stuck on you forever. One way or another, you move on.”

“It’s been years since I’ve even seen him, Tae. The fact that I still haven’t moved on despite that has to tell you something.”

“Which is why I told you that you still need to talk to him. You can’t move on or do anything about the way you feel unless you communicate it.” He pulled back to bend his body to become eye-level with you so that he could look you in the eyes as he spoke. “There’s things you don’t know.”

For a moment, you weighed his words in your mind. If they’re things that Taehyung can’t tell you because they’re ‘not his place’ to say, then you figure that the matter must be a serious one. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. It wasn’t long before you gave in.

“Yeah…” You trailed off in hesitation, suddenly regretting shutting out Jungkook. “I guess I do need to talk to him.”

“Please just… take your time and be patient with him.” Taehyung winced slightly. “He’s hot-headed but he’s a lot better than he was before. I promise you that.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Taehyung.” You scowled as you backed out of his embrace.

“You know I don’t. I would never suggest that you talk to him if he was the same as he was before.”

A few beats of silence passed before you asked the question that had been nagging at your mind since your revelation of remaining love for the lead singer of BTS.

“Do you think we still have a chance?”

Taehyung answered immediately. “That’s not my place to judge. All I know is that you guys did something sad like being broke up even though you had life.”

“Good god, Tae,” You huffed out a laugh. “Are you quoting Lil Dicky right now?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Taehyung crossed his arms and let out a small ‘hmph’ as he lightly stomped his foot onto the sidewalk. “And you can’t stop me.”

For a while, Taehyung let you catch your breath and calm down while looking up and down the street. It seemed as if he was planning something.

Before you could process what he was doing, Taehyung took you by your arm, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and began walking across the street. You looked up in the direction of your path and noticed that you were heading towards the quaint coffee shop that seemed to be the only open place at the current hour.

Your eyes hurt from crying. Your chest ached from sobbing and hiccuping. Your heart and head hurt as they came to blows with each other. You were slowly beginning to freeze as the calming of your emotions slowed your heart and cooled your body. It was so fucking cold.

You could use a coffee right about now.

~#~

Thank you for reading, reader! If you’d like to check out the rest of my work, feel free to visit my Masterlist!

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ddaengyoonmin · 3 years

Text

-Hotel For Demons- (Intro)

Pairing: eventual ot7 x reader; the first few chapters are very Yoongi x reader centric.

Warnings/tags: Stripping, teasing, gambling, mentions of some dark/mob activity

( eventual )Smut-angst-fluff

Summary: You work as a stripper at an extremely secretive casino resort that caters to people of a dark nature. You are used to strange and ignoring your fears. Yet one night a man, more scary and more intriguing than any other seems to grow fond of you while you dance. You play a game with him that takes you away from everything you’ve known and into an even darker world than you’d ever known...and now he’s calling you his wife.

a/n: (this is very unedited sry for typos and things if they appear) taken some inspiration from the anime ‘Kakuriyo: Bed & Breakfast for Spirits.’ It starts out a bit dark but it's going to be a lot more lighthearted in some chapters. Once I get the initial set up to the story, this fic will just be a bunch of short episode like stories with y/n having different moments with each member or a few members, not always directly connected to future chapters or the chapter before, just set in the same world. Let me know what you think!!

------

It felt to the men in the crowd like they were hypnotized watching you.

You were the one hypnotized though, by the music, and by the thudding of the bass in rap song you’d picked for your dance vibrating through the club.

You could feel it in your chest, each thump pushing your hips forward as you grinded against the pole, sticking your ass out as you jumped onto the pole and spun. You swore you heard one man in the crowd gasp as you did.

The purple stage lights flashed to blue as the song hit a slower beat. You slid down the pole slowly, your hands gently moving down to the floor with the rest of your body.

As you continued on with your floor work you could practically feel the eyes of one man in particular sitting on you with an almost unblinking stare.

You could only see his eyes, the lower half of his face was covered by a black mask with a pattern that made it look like blood was dripping all over it in a very cartoonish way.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to wear masks like that here, but his was quite an interesting choice.

You could see bits of black hair peeking through his black jacket’s hood, which was also strange. He seemed so secretive with his appearance. Maybe that's what was giving him the confidence to stare at you so obviously.

Most men tended to get shy when you stared them down.

No...maybe he really hadn’t blinked once…

You realized you’d been focusing on him a bit too long and quickly danced your way to facing away from him.

Though you couldn’t escape the powerful gaze that you felt on your backside the entire time.

You knew the ending of your song was coming up and you took to the pole again to finish the dance.

It might have been obvious to everyone in the club that whether it was intentional or subconscious, you had started dancing for him.

When you ended your dance, the last step you took had you facing right at him, chest heaving from putting a bit of extra effort into your moves than usual.

You weren’t sure why, it didn’t make sense. You never usually got this worked up over someone in the audience, but his attention was exciting.

Some men clapped, and a few threw some money on the stage. You gave a twinkle wave to no one in general as you turned to walk back to the dressing rooms behind the stage.

The girl that would come out and collect your money off the stage for you squeezed your shoulder as you walked by and gave you a smile.

“I haven’t seen you perform like that in forever!” she praised loudly over the song that was playing while they set up for the next dancer.

You mouthed a thank you and from the corner of your eye you caught the mysterious man standing up from the table and leaving.

Your heart dropped a little bit. You had a second song still later that a part of you had hoped he’d have stuck around for. He hadn’t even paid you. He paid the entry fee to enter the strip club area of the casino resort, bought one drink, watched just your song, and left.

It was strange.

You were used to odd people. Sometimes even dangerous people. The casino you worked at catered to a very particular crowd of very rich men.

They weren’t the type of rich men you’d see on the news or in magazines. They were all a very secretive type. You were told when you’d been hired two years ago that you weren’t ever to ask the men about what they did for a living.

It always made you wonder, but it never bothered you. The amount of money in their wallets was enough to make you not need to read too deeply into any of it. Why mess up a good thing.

It's not that you only cared about money...but everyone has their amount. Everyone has a number to where they’ll turn their eyes the other way.

At least that's what your boss had told you the first time he’d sat you down in his office and handed you a blank check with his name already signed on it.

The day that you’d seen something that you never want to think about again.

Now you don’t have to.

Aside from the anomaly that was that man today, the diamonds on your wrists that would dance while you did were enough of a distraction from the things you’d seen.

With some of the things you’d witnessed go down in this casino you were glad that your number was as high as it was.

When it was well past 3 in the morning and your shift was done you put on your coat and began to walk towards the main entrance of the building to leave. Almost everyone besides those who worked there had left for the night, either returning to their hotel rooms or getting up to some business you’d rather not think about.

Just before you’d walked past the last of the blackjack tables you heard a voice call out to you.

“y/n right?”

A chill ran down your spine. You never used your real name at the club, it was a rule that you’d never tell customers your real name.

Your head whipped around to see that same man from earlier sat down alone at the table, shuffling through a deck of cards.

On closer look the cards were definitely not ones from your casino, almost as if he’d brought his own with him, another rule broken.

“No…” You lied. “You must be confused.”

You heard a chuckle from behind the mask. “I’m never confused. Sit down.”

He spoke so sternly and with a low gravel that spiked some fear into your body.

But you sat anyway. Maybe it was fear of what he’d do if you said no, but more likely it was that you were still wildly intrigued by this strange man.

“How do you know me?” You spoke as you sat down in the seat across from where he sat in the dealers chair.

“That's not important right now.” He muttered. “Want to play a game?” He spoke those words with such a smooth and beautiful compelling tone.

“Why not.” You decided, shifting in your seat and trying to get a better eye on the cards he was still shuffling through.

You wished you could see behind his mask, but all you could see was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He laid out three cards in front of you face down. They were black with the images of blood dripping down them, the same as his mask.

“Pick one.” He demanded.

“Shouldn’t I know the rules first?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Rules don’t really matter here do they. Surely you know that better than anyone.” He replied.

“There are some rules that matter.” You debated. “Like you calling me by my real name.”

“Not to me.” He then tapped on the table in front of him with a closed fist. “Pick a card.”

You sighed and figured ‘What's the worst that could happen.’

You stared at the cards in front of you, not sure if it even made a difference which one you’d pick, but still, you studied them before finally pointing to the one in the middle.

He then reached out and flipped the card, revealing a very detailed drawing of two golden rings intertwined together.

He seemed to sigh a big exhale of relief.

“Good.” he muttered.

“That's good? For me, or you? What game are we playing here!” You were starting to get frustrated.

He then flipped over the other two cards, revealing one that was a painting of a gravestone, and one that was a painting of flames.

“Good for both of us.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice, though you were only growing more confused.

“Pick up your card. Don’t touch the other ones.” He ordered.

With a small huff you listened to him, grabbing the card with the rings on it.

“In both hands.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.” he seemed to growl in an almost inhuman way.

Your fear now made your blood run cold, you didn’t want to anger him so you did as he said instantly.

As soon as you did, you felt a rush of wind hit you from behind. It was so strong the other two cards flew off the table. The man stood there with his arms crossed and started laughing a maniacal laugh.

The whole table then seemed to start to spin, you wanted to grip onto something but your hands seemed to be glued to the card you held.

Everything got faster and more blurry, everything except him. Before you could comprehend how, it seemed that the whole place you’d been in was starting to fade away into a bright white light.

As the spinning movements quickened you squeezed your eyes shut tightly and let out a small scream.

It only lasted a few more seconds before you felt everything still.

“Open your eyes.” His voice spoke to you much softer.

Slowly you did, opening up to a sight you were not expecting to see.

You were now in a large room with wooden floors and a wooden ceiling. Lots of art and architecture that seemed to be at least a thousand years before your own. It was very decorative and ornate, it seemed almost like a palace.

“Welcome to your home my wife.”

146 notes · View notes

marsbutterfly · 3 years

Note

Hey there! I been really enjoying your written work. I was wondering if you could write a scenario about porco and his s/o 'getting it on ;) maybe a college AU? if not, just ignore it~

Covalent Bonding

WARNING: NSFW

Summary: Porco is struggling to finish his organic chemistry lab report and comes to you for help. The lesson quickly goes off-topic.

Note: First of all thank you SO much for requesting this, we really hope you enjoy it. I wrote the intro and the outro. All of the smut was written by my amazing wife @tsukidrama ALSO the word count on this is around 5.3k so this is a long boi.

tsuki’s note: ok the porno i watched for research purposes while trying to conceptualize this fic started with the lines “wow, i hope no one comes along to fuck me in the ass and jerk my dick off” and then the girl walks in holding a strap on and says “oh hey, i just came here to fuck you in the ass and jerk your dick off.” i did this for you, anon. i accidentally pulled out all the stops for this, and i regret nothing. i had so much fun writing this, and i am now madly in love with Porco also?? everyone always writes him as such an edgy bitch or a headass dom and i’m sitting over here like....... but he is... a soft baby.... who cries during sex, falls in love, and gives kisses...... just sayin

Colab with @tsukidrama 💕

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

“We’ll cover Chapter 23 on Monday.” The professor’s voice echoes through the silent classroom. “Please make sure to submit your lab reports by 11:59 PM on Saturday night. E-mail me if you have any questions.”

Before you finish putting all of your belongings in your backpack, you share a look with Porco, who sits by your right side. He looks just as ready to leave this chemical filled room as you are.

Once you stand up, you feel his hand on your shoulder. As you turn around, he smiles brightly at you.

“Have you done your lab report yet?” Porco asks for the fifth time that week. You let out a burst of laughter. Butterflies soar in your stomach as his cheeks blush lightly, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

“I did the intro and the outline,” you answer, tilting your head as you place a hand on your hips. “You want help with yours, don’t you?”

He starts laughing and avoiding eye contact with you.

“Well I was going to suggest that we could do it together.” He smiles at you once again, and the butterflies in your stomach now travel through all your body. “But I would accept your help, too.” Even though he tries to look tough, Porco has always been shy, especially when it comes to asking for a favor.

You simply nod at him before grabbing his hand, “Let’s go get to work then!”

The setting sun spills into the large, windowed hallway, casting long shadows against the wall beside it. The two of you clatter down the stairs to the level below your classroom, where all the different labs are located.

After peering through the dark window of a lab door labeled: ORGANIC CHEMISTRY, you punch in the security code that unlocks all of the orgo classrooms and labs (courtesy of your professor). The door unlocks with a small beep and the flash of a green light. Porco takes a few steps ahead of you, turning on the lights and checking to make sure nobody else has claimed the lab as a study space.

You sit down at the lab table farthest from the door, and before you sit you take your laptop and notes out of your backpack. Porco thumps a textbook between the two of you as he sits in the chair beside you. He smiles gratefully at you, a gentle red blush still coloring his face. Once you’re settled down, you frown at him quietly.

His face drops. “What wrong?” he asks, eyes filled with worry. You touch his hand and pull your chair closer to him, close enough for you to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Much better!” you say, and Porco clutches his chest in relief.

“I thought you were mad at me!” he exclaims, “bitch.” he adds under his breath, but his voice is quiet and gentle, even more so than usual. He shoots you a playful look. The fluorescent lights of the lab makes his hair look blonder than it already is, and you reach up to tuck a strand back into place amongst its slicked-back brothers. You put your free hand on his neck and you notice goosebumps on his arms. A smile on your face, you speak again.

“Where would you like to start?” You look at him and notice he has his thinking expression on, consisting of his lips moving one side to the other and his eyes focused on the ceiling. A few seconds pass before he looks at you.

“Alkanes, alkenes, and alkynes” he says, squeezing your hand. “I still don’t know what the fucking difference is.” You look away, trying to hide your burning, red cheeks from him, but his words still bring a smile to your face.

“Yeah, you better figure that shit out, huh?” you quip jestfully, and exaggerate your squeal as his hands shoot forward to tickle your stomach for your comment.

An hour passes while you two focus on his report. You spent most of that time explaining to him the types of bonds that differentiate aliphatic compounds, and end up just writing the opening paragraph for him. When you flip the textbook to the page that displays a chart that shows differences between the different structures, you can see from the corner of your eye that he very much does not care about the positioning of hydrogens and carbons. He's been staring at you for the past three minutes.

You bite your lower lip gently, though you’re already losing focus as he’s undressing you with his eyes. You take a deep breath and stop typing.

“This isn’t my lab report, you know,” you say, as shifting your body to fully face him. “You could at least grab your note-” But before you could finish your sentence, you feel his lips on yours. It takes you a moment to realize what’s happening but, once you do, you wrap your arms around his neck as he touches your thighs.

“I’m sorry. I really do appreciate you helping me with this, but you look so beautiful tonight.” He says, flustered. He looks at you with stars in his eyes. You tilt your head to the left as you try to hide the smile creeping across your lips. You try to look away but you feel his cold fingers touching your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re ridiculous, Galliard,” you say before closing the space between the two of you once again. You can feel him smiling against your lips. He quickly changes the focus from your lips to your jawline, leaving a trail of wet, gentle kisses as he makes his way down.

A quiet moan involuntarily leaves your throat when you feel his fingers against your skin, slipping underneath your shirt. Your left-hand travels from his neck to his head as you disrupt the perfectly swept-back coif of hair. The smell of his hair gel and cologne mixed with the scent of your own perfume excites you even more.

Suddenly, he removes his lips from your skin. You let out an annoyed whine, and open your eyes to glare at him.

“Is this ok?” he asks, touching your hand. Your annoyances melts into a gentle smile as you lift a hand to touch his face. He snuggles his cheek against your touch.

“Yes, Porco,” you reply, “Of course.”

He nods, the faintest glimpse of a smile visible across his lips before he moves in to kiss you once again. One arm wraps around your waist to pull you closer, his other hand quick to travel from your face to underneath your skirt. He plays with the waistband of your underwear, trying to slip his hands lower. You softly hold his hand in place.

“Wait,” you say, a mischievous smile creeping onto your face, “I have an idea.” Porco wordlessly tilts his head and looks at you, incredulous. He looks confused yet adorable.

“I have something. From last time,” you continue, pulling away to dig in your backpack. You toss aside a notebook and a pencil case before you find the drawstring bag you’re looking for. You pull it out by the strings.

“Ta-da!” you say, presenting him with the bag. His eyes go wide with realization.

“Shit,” he says under his breath, “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

You nod, accidentally smiling a little too brightly.

Porco chuckles nervously, a dark blush spreading across his cheeks. “Here? In the lab?” he asks.

You nod. “Here. In the lab.”

He looks at you, then at the bag, and then at the door and the closed blinds covering the windows. His eyes come back to you, and again to the bag, then to finally lock with yours. His face is burning even redder now, but he nods.

“Okay, let’s do it,” he agrees, “I trust you.”

Excitement stirs deep in your gut. You pull open the bag and take out its contents to place them on the lab table. It thuds lightly against the table, bright pink textured silicone standing out against the dark wood. From its well-defined head to its base, the dildo sits about six inches long. A metal ring holds it in place against a black nylon harness, with another inch or so of silicon balls underneath. A small, half-empty bottle of lube clatters next to it along with a couple of brightly colored condoms you snagged from the free bowl in front of your RA’s door.

Porco looks away, nervously scratching his neck as you pick up the harness.

“Come on,” you tease, sticking your leg through the maze of straps and buckles, and then the other. You pull it all the way up, securing it at your hips underneath your skirt, which tents around the pink phallus betwixt your legs. “Now… do I need to tell you to bend over?”

He shakes his head and shoots you an eager look, quickly unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper. His jeans hang loosely around his hips as he rests his forearms against the lab table, stretching out and arching his back, ass on display.

You admire that shit for a moment before you press yourself against him from behind. You kiss his cheek, and softly brush your lips against the outer shell of his ear, relishing the shiver you feel travel down his spine.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispers, grinding his ass into your hips. You giggle, bucking your hips into him playfully as you kiss his cheek once more.

Your hands rest gently on his hips as you slip your fingers into the belt loops of his jeans. Once they’re hooked around your fingers, you gently pull them over his ass. He doesn’t even give you time to get it halfway down before he reaches down with one arm to pull down his boxers as well. The giggles come back to you as you help him free himself of clothing.

“Don’t laugh,” Porco whines, covering his eyes with his hand, “it’s embarrassing.”

“You’re just cute,” you assure him, “I’m not making fun.” The cap on the bottle of lube pops open with a snap, and you pour a generous amount of it on two of your fingers. You take a step closer to him, setting the lube down on the table as one of your arms snakes under his shirt to wrap around his chest. The other slides down his spine, over his tailbone to trace the curve of his ass. Porco’s breath hitches in his throat when your fingers reach their destination, softly prodding at the entrance.

“Ready?” you ask, speaking softly in his ear. He nods vigorously, breathing hard.

“Please,” he says. So you give him what he wants, and slowly push in your slicked fingers.

Porco just gasps in response, his head dropping below his shoulders. He isn’t nearly as tense as he was the first few times you did this, and your fingers easily sink to the second knuckle. You gently move them in and out. With your other hand, you gently trace your thumb against the soft skin above his solid pectoral muscles. Gently, you plant a kiss on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” you ask, rubbing his chest.

He turns his head towards you, his face flushed. “Totally fine,” he says breathlessly, and you feel him opening his legs wider to accommodate you.

You press your cheek against his shoulder, shifting your weight to a more comfortable position. Porco tilts his head to look at you. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with wide eyes. You move your fingers inside of him, trying to find the angles he likes. You press against something you find promising, and he confirms it with a sharp intake of breath.

You thrust deliberately and carefully, and once he starts to get more into it, you begin to scissor your fingers ever so slightly. Porco gasps, and gently rocks back against you. His eyes slip closed, his lip parted and his blush darkening in his cheeks and spreading down onto his neck.

“Y-you can put another one in,” he mutters, so quietly that you can barely hear him.

“Hmm?”

Porco grunts in frustration. “You know exactly what I said, you asshole!”

You can’t help but smile as you oblige his request. You slow your pace as you ease in the third finger, but the combination of lube and his enthusiasm makes it a short-lived adjustment. He grinds into your hand, and you tilt your fingers to again find that sweet spot inside that elicited the little gasps and moans he was trying so hard to muffle. You soon begin to move more freely, thrusting nearly all the way inside. Your fingertips twitch inside of him, and to your absolute delight, he lets out the sweetest and most delicate moan, though he tries to muffle it with his fingers. His shoulder blades jut into the air as he pulls his own hair, hips squirming.

“Fuck,” he says into his hands, “fuck, you’ve got to give me more.”

“What do you want, Galliard?” you ask, though you’re fairly confident that you know the answer.

“Damn it, put it in!” he exclaims, still muffled. “Fuck me, Y/N...”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” you say in a tantalizing manner, smiling cheerfully as you reposition yourself behind him. You squirt a generous amount of lube into your strap on, careful to coat the length entirely. Your hands lay gently against his hips, lining yourself up with him before you use one hand to guide the head of the pink silicone dildo into place.

“Okay,” you say, partly to ready yourself, and partly (mostly) to ready him. Porco whines in anticipation, and you don’t deny him. He spreads his legs just a little wider to lower himself, and you rise up on your toes to meet him.

You push your hips forward slowly, making sure to listen for signs of discomfort. Porco moans, this one poorly muffled and loud. One of his hands slaps against the table for support.

“Don’t stop,” he says, his breath hitching in his throat, “please, don’t stop.”

No discomfort, then. You continue on.

Your fingers tighten their grip against his hips, digging into them for leverage as you thrust your hips. Despite the fact that you aren’t quite as tall as he is, or you aren’t as practiced in your thrusts as he is when he fucks you, you like to think that you’re good at what you do - based on the low moans and intermittent gasps and whines, Porco certainly seems to be having a good time. After all, he let you fuck him again. And in the lab, at that.

Porco shifts positions, and you notice one of his hands has disappeared in between his legs. You notice pressure building between your own, but ignore it in favor of grabbing the bottle of lube. The cap clicks open, and you pull your hips back just long enough to squirt a little bit onto the silicone dick before you push it back in. Another haphazard squirt into your own hand, and you reach around his body, nudging aside his hand to replace it with your own.

“Some for you, and some for me,” you say, snorting at your own joke. Porco just moans in response to your touch, biting his knuckles.

Your hand wanders up from his hips, fingers wandering up to brace against the muscles on his back, through the shirt (but better than nothing). Still wandering, your fingers rake through his hair from the back, twisting the blonde locks hard enough to tug, but not painfully. Porco’s shoulders slump, his arms and head both flat against the table top.

You let go of his hair, raking your nails down his back until you dig your fingers back into his hips. You pull out slightly, readjusting your foot stance for a better angle and shifting so that you can better reach around to stroke his cock.

When you push back in with the new angle, Porco lets out another exclamation of pleasure, much louder this time than any of his previous vocalizations. Warmth pools between your thighs at the sound, but you can’t help but get a little bit nervous at the idea of actually being caught.

“Shh,” you hiss. Between his (admittedly, wonderful) noises, the slapping of your thighs and the creak of the wooden lab table, you’re pretty sure that anyone who walked within 10 feet of the door would know exactly what was going on behind it.

Porco mumbles something unintelligible, and he doesn’t make any attempt to clarify. You quicken your hips’ pace while your hand stays tight around his cock. You rub your thumb over the tip gently before stroking down the entire length. The lube is slippery, and it makes you work to keep your grasp - your grip tightens as it slides almost entirely out of your hand, and Proco loudly groans again at the increased pressure.

“Shh,” you reiterate, more forcefully this time.

Porco groans, lifting his head to look at you. “Oh… You shut the fuck up.”

“Ooh, sassy. Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?” you chide, lightly smacking his ass with your free hand.

“Do not talk about my mother right now,” he says, voice strained.

“Mm,” you agree. Your hand cups around his ass before you allow your fingers to drift up the curve of his back.

His cock twitches, and you again rub your thumb around it’s head before you go back to pumping along the shaft, twisting your hand the way that you know he likes.

“Oh,” Porco whimpers. His cock pulses in your hand, and you stroke him hard and fast as you feel the rest of his body going rigid. “Oh fuck.”

His back arches as he cries out, shuddering beneath you as his cock spills hot cum over your hand. You slow your hips’ pace and rub his back soothingly. You press your cheek against his back, the closest you can get to him.

“I got you,” you say over and over again as he twitches below you. “I got you.” Another rope of cum drips down your hand. Where his arm overlaps yours, he holds you to his body tightly. You notice that he’s still shaking, so you continue to rub his back.

After a few seconds of heavy breathing, you raise your hips and pull the dildo out slowly and carefully.

You touch Porco’s back softly and hug his shoulders from behind. “You okay?” you ask softly.

He nods, turning his head to face you. His face is flushed and sweaty, his normally impeccable hair skewed out of place in every direction. He looks at you with glazed-over eyes the size of the moon. You lean in to kiss him.

Porco pushes himself up from the table to cup your face with his hands, kissing you back deeply, with passion. You smile as he kisses you.

“What’s so funny?”

You nuzzle the tips of your noses together. “I’m not laughing, I just love you.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, and this time, you can feel him smiling too.

The two of you stay like that for a moment - kissing, and of course, Porco’s hands (predictably) end up wandering underneath your shirt. As he explores the expanse of skin beneath, you become acutely aware of the way he’s pressing his leg between yours. Your breath hitches as he nudges the strap on harness up in a way that a strap brushes right up against your clit. His hand finds your breast, and circles your nipple with his thumb.

“Again? Already?” you ask, bemused, but still very willing to be convinced.

“It wouldn’t be fair,” he pouts, still thumbing over your nipple torturously, “You got to fuck me.”

“Well, you’re the one who’s scared of getting caught!” you exclaim, and gasp at the sensation.

He takes a moment to think, and his hand moves back down to your waist. “I would rather be caught fucking you than be caught with you fucking me.”

You laugh while you shrug your shoulders, then loosen the straps from around your hips. The harness falls, but you catch it on one of your ankles and toss it on the table near your bag. The pink silicone dick points upwards, the shaft glistening with lube.

“Okay,” you agree, slipping your underwear off and tossing it the same way next to the strap on. “You can fuck me.”

Porco’s lips curl into a smirk you know all too well. You prop your elbows up on the lab table, sticking your ass out in the same position you fucked him in.

“No, no. Turn around,” he tells you, “I want to see your face.”

Your fingers lightly cover your mouth in embarrassment. “Awww, Porco. You love me…” you tease.

He blushes and looks off to the side. “Shut up. Of course I love you.”

“I love you too,” you remind him soothingly, stepping into his grasp. His arms snake around your waist, and you rise up on your toes to kiss him. It doesn’t take long before his hands wander to slip underneath your already hiked-up skirt.

You flatten your hand against his chest, and as his fingers brush against the apex of your thighs, your fingers curl, and take a fistful of his shirt with them as you gasp. He kisses your cheek, and makes his way down the side of your neck. You squirm against him, slapping your hand against the table blindly until your fingers feel that familiar crinkle of a condom wrapper, and you pull away from him with a huff, and then yank his shirt.

The two of you stumble backwards into the counters at the back of the classroom, with you guiding him. You spin him around so that his ass is backed up against the counter.

“Get up,” you say, releasing your hold on him and gesturing.

Porco laughs as he looks behind himself, then uses his arms to boost himself up to sit on the countertop. He slides a box of microscope slides closer to the scope they were meant for.

“We would be so fucked if we broke those,” he says.

You look at him hungrily as you tear into the serrated plastic edge of the condom wrapper. “You’re gonna get so fucked anyway.”

He smiles before lunging to grab you beneath the arms, tugging you up on the counter with him. You laugh and kick your legs as you scramble to balance yourself on the smooth linoleum.

“Technically, you already did fuck me.”

“Yeah, and now I’m gonna fuck you again.”

Both of you burst into laughter as you straddle his lap. You throw the condom wrapper off to the side, and focus on rolling the condom itself down Porco’s cock. Once your hand reaches its base, you lift your hips to position yourself above it, but Porco’s hand touches your wrist to stop you before you have the chance to lower yourself down.

You look up at him expectantly, only to be pulled into another kiss. Immediately, you forget what you were doing as you feel yourself being wrapped up in his arms, his smell, his lips. His hands wander up your body, flattening against your stomach and cupping your breasts. You shudder as his thumb circles around your nipple again, and you instinctively grind your hips into his. When Porco finally breaks the kiss, he reaches between you to line himself up.

Some kind of noise rushes out of your throat when he finally guides your hips down, and you finally get the gut-punch you had been aching for as you let your knees slide apart further to take him in. Thighs trembling, you brace yourself against his shoulders for support until you can’t go any further. He guides your hips back up again, and then again until you find the strength to move on your own.

Once you’ve established a rhythm, Porco kisses you again, sloppily this time. You grind your hips down, and he groans into you.

“Mmphh,” he mumbles into your lips, “you’re so fucking sexy.”

As you bounce up and down, you swivel your hips in tight circles. Porco keeps one hand on your waist and lifts the other to grasp your breast, twisting the nipple just enough to make your eyes roll back into your head.

“Tell me more about it,” you tell him, voice cracking. You double down on your efforts, bouncing faster and now squeezing down around his cock.

Porco digs his fingers into your skin, and bucks his hips up to meet yours. “You feel so good. If I hadn’t — fuck,” he chokes as you bounce down particularly hard, “—if I hadn’t just come, you’d already have me in pieces.”

Another bounce and purposeful grind of your hips and his head drops forward with a whimper. You smirk, though you know he can tell you’re coming unraveled, too.

“I can get you there again.”

Now that he’s worked up again, that beautiful flush has come back to stain his cheeks. You feel yourself losing purchase as you move against each other, but you don’t care.

“You sure as shit will if you keep going like that.” Porco gasps, thrusting up into you hard, and you couldn’t control the noise that comes out of your throat if you tried.

The both of you are breathing heavily, moving against each other with an increasing desperation as you both get closer to finishing. Porco’s hands are back at your waist, gripping so hard that you fear it may bruise, but this only encourages you. Your arms snake around his neck, and you cling to him as you press your forehead to his. Your fingers rake up into his hair, pulling gently and further knocking it out of place as you wrap your fingers in the long strands on top.

You whimper as you feel the pressure inside of you building, every stroke inside you stirring up more and more inside of you. Your body moves on its own against him as you feel yourself reaching the edge. Everything from the sweat sticking against your skin, to the way he pulls your body into his like you’re all he needs, excites you. You love the way you’re completely wrapped up in him, with his touch against your skin and his smell in your nose and his cock bottomed out in you, pulls you over the edge.

He kisses you as you come, muffling the moan that rips itself from your throat. He wraps his arms around you tight, though he doesn’t slow his pace. You do your best to keep your legs open for him as your orgasm hits you. You crumple into him, toes curling as he thrusts up hard into your oversensitive core.

Within seconds, Porco buries his head into the crook of your neck, letting out a choked groan. His cock twitches inside of you as he comes for the second time that evening. You stroke his hair, gently kissing his temples as he finishes. His arms tighten around you, and you rest your head atop his.

You stay like this for a minute or two, enjoying each other’s presence as you wait for your legs to stop shaking. Once strength returns to your body, you reluctantly move your hands onto his chest for support as you push yourself up, shifting your right leg to the other side of the counter, you feel his dick leaving the warmth of your body as both of you let out one final moan.

As your feet hit the floor, you watch Porco quietly struggling to get the condom off and a gentle giggle escapes you.

He meets your eyes and you see his blush darken.

“The lube is making this harder than it should be.” He says quietly. You bite your lip, holding in a laugh. Hopping off of the counter, you walk towards your backpack and look around the inside for a few seconds before finding a small towel.

“Porco.” You call his name before throwing the cloth in his direction. A smile never leaves his lips as he grabs it midair.

“You really came prepared, didn’t you?” He says. You simply shrug your shoulders before flashing him a smile of your own.

“Of course, you never know when you’ll get to peg the boy you’re desperately in love with.” You say as you focus on fixing your own clothes.

He stays quiet for a few seconds before murmuring something underneath his breath. “Huh?” is all you say, trying to get Porco to repeat himself.

“You’ve never said you were desperately in love with me before,” he says as he wraps the (finally) removed condom in a piece of paper he took from his own notebook, “or that you were in love with me.”

You feel your cheeks burn as you look away, trying to avoid his gaze. “I thought it was obvious. We say ‘I love you’ all the time.”

Once his pants are back on, he quietly walks towards you before reaching for your hand. His cold fingers are soft and gentle as he pulls you in for a hug.

“I don’t know, it feels different for some reason,” he says softly.

You nuzzle your face against the side of his neck while wrapping your hands around his back. A sense of calm washes over you.

“But I’m in love with you too,” he whispers, and twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. You lift your head to press your lips to his. He kisses you like you’re the only two people in the world, and his smile against your lips makes your heart skip a beat.

After a few seconds, he pulls away and looks around the lab. On the counter, can see the perfect print of his ass cheeks in lube. He shakes his head and reaches for the towel yet again.

“We better clean this place up a bit,” he observes, and you nod in agreement.

While Porco focuses on making sure there is no lube (or cum) left on any surfaces, you put the dildo back in its bag, along with your study materials.

It takes a few minutes, but soon enough the room looks exactly like you found it. All you need to do is put Porco’s laptop away when suddenly you two are reminded of the reason you went into the lab in the first place.

“Shit, my report!” He says as he covers his mouth with his hand. You slap your face, and just one look at him tells you that your work isn’t over yet tonight.

“Let’s go to the library so that we won’t get distracted again.” you tell him, “and we’re going in a communal area because if we get a study room we’re gonna end up fucking again.” You grab your backpack and walk towards the door, the blonde-haired boy following closely behind, carrying his laptop in one of his hands.

“Aww, would that be so bad?” Porco teases.

“It would be bad for your chem grade.”

Neither of you say anything as you descend the final flight of stairs, but as you are about to leave the building, you feel him lacing his fingers with yours. A blush creeps over your cheeks as you walk right next to him, making sure that, not even for a second, your hands will drift apart.

Porco has been here for you ever since you enrolled in college, rooting for you and taking care of you. In your head, you make a promise to yourself to never let him go. Not only because he’s the perfect man for you, but also because there’s nothing you love more than the expression on his face while you fuck him in the ass.

One more look at him, and you turn ahead to face the lights of the street ahead of you, getting lost in your thoughts as you walk towards the library.

You appreciate all the time you spend with him and deep down, you pray that this lab report will take even longer than you think it will, all so you can stay close to him for as long as you can.

#porco galliard #porco galliard x reader #reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot smut #aot x y/n #aot x you #snk x y/n #snk x you #porco x reader #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction

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cucumbers-and-olives · 3 years

Text

Want You Back (Day 4 fic)

Summary: After an argument with Reggie, you move to NYC, where you reunite with him under- different -circumstances

Category: Angst

Fandom: JATP

Paring: Reggie x Reader (i- well...)

Word Count: 1.5k!

Warnings/Includes: implied cheating, angst

A/N: @reggiepetersappreciationweek preciationweek, thank you guys for creating this amazing week (also, was this half baked idea originally intended for @jatpx5sos week? *akwardly hides under a table* i blame the hiatus whoops sorry!

AO3 link here (yep ill get my shit together eventually)

Please don’t repost my work without my permission, in part or whole. My work can also be found on AO3 under the same username. Thank you!

“It’s like this every time Reg! You keep going out late and you don’t come back until it's morning!” You yelled at your boyfriend. “Do you even remember that I’m your girlfriend?”

“Really Y/N, this again? God, you are so childish,” He rolled his eyes and started to walk past you to the door of the dressing room. You didn’t even notice at first, but you grabbed his arm. Looking into his eyes, you could see the boy he used to be. The one that always had a smile on his face, the one that insisted on having a picnic every week, the one that listened to you no matter what. But that seemed to have faded, hidden behind a shield of the boy he was trying to be. “If,” You whispered as Bobby walked into the room. You ignored him as you continued. “If you walk out onto that stage Reginald, we are done. I’m not getting back together with you again. We are done, and I’m hopping on a flight in the morning and never coming back.”

“Fine,” He said. You could have sworn that at that moment- in that second -he broke. His bad-boy attitude seemed to fall for a moment, but as he walked out of the room and didn’t look back, he seemed fine.

“This will never work!” You shouted after him.

Bobby let out a small laugh. You pivoted to look at him and your hands found their way to your hips. “What?”

“Oh nothing,” He said, in a very nonchalant way as he turned away from you to his mirror. You punched him in the back to get him to talk. “Okay, okay! Geez!”

“Talk, Wilson.”

“He needs you. And you need him, don’t deny it Y/N,” Bobby said as you shook your head.

“He acts like he’s moved on from a relationship that hasn’t even ended! I need who he used to be, I need my sunshine boy back.” You said, promptly turning on your heel as you left.

Unfortunately for you, the fastest way out of the theater was across the stage, where he was warming up.

“Good,” You said to yourself. “I can give this damn shirt back.”

Walking onto a stage in a bra and leggings wasn’t something you ever thought you’d do. But it was worth it as Reggies face dropped.

You flung the shirt into his face.

“Guns n Roses, my shirt,” He whispered, as crew members all around watched your conversation.

“This is the last time you’ll see me,” You spat at him. “You’ll never change.”

It wasn’t until you stepped out of the theater that you noticed the tears pouring down your face. But it could have just been the rain.

You left a lot of things behind in that theater. Funnily enough, it happened to be your favorite thing to contemplate.

For starters, a broken relationship. Reggie was always on your mind. His faults and your faults as a couple were always right behind. Your phone, your favorite jacket, and an amazing group of boys. New York was a far move, but you fell in love with the city as soon as your eyes had fallen upon the wonder that it was.

The plan, of course, had been to find a place to stay in the very expensive city for the night, and then move to a different city. But, as is the case with most plans, it fell apart as you fell in love with the city. It was the perfect place for someone like you.

Your phone pulled you out of your contemplative trance as it buzzed. Flipping in over, you saw two texts from phone numbers that you had hoped to forget.

Unknown: He needs you. It’s been a month Y/N, we know that you are in NY.

It took every ounce of self-control to not curse out your mother at that moment. She was the only one that knew the boys and where you had gone.

Unknown: We are playing at Madison Square Garden in a week, here’s a ticket.

Reggie needed you now? A month later?

Y/N: Bobby? How did you get this number?

Bobby: Are you coming?

You sighed as you closed your phone. Reggie was your past, New York was your future. But something in the back of your mind told you that you were making the wrong choice.

“I just want to thank you all for being here. We’ve got one last song on the setlist, and then I hope you all have a wonderful night!” Bobby shouted, and your eyes drifted over to Reggie who played an unfamiliar piano intro. The crowd shouted with excitement at the song, but you had no idea what was coming.

“Can’t help but wondering

if this is the last time that I’ll see your face

Is it tears or just the fucking rain

Wish I could say something

Something that doesn’t sound insane

But lately, I don’t trust my brain,” The crowd seemed surprised that Reggie was singing, but it wasn’t long before they began to sing along with him. He had changed, he looked older now and more stressed. He just didn’t seem like himself.

“You told me I won’t ever change

So I just say nothing

No matter where I go, I’m always gonna want you back

No matter how long you’re gone, I’m always gonna want you back

I know that you know, I will never get over you

No matter where I go, I’m always gonna want you back

Want you back.” As the chorus ended, you could see that three of the boys were looking at you. Alex, Luke, and Bobby all seemed aware of your presence, but Reggie stayed oblivious.

“I remember the freckles on your back

And the way that I used to make you laugh

Cos you know every morning I wake up

And I still reach for you

I remember the roses on your shirt

When you told me this would never work,” The song seemed like too much of a coincidence. Too many things matching up to the past. His eyes seemed to see where the rest of the boys were looking and he squinted a bit. Bobby didn’t make it hard for him, as you were standing in the front row. Just your luck.

“You know, even when I say I’ve moved on

Yeah, I still dream for you,” The lyrics seemed more targeted this time, and Luke took over the chorus as Reggie moved around the stage, telling the boys different things. He disappeared off stage, and seconds later, one of the security dudes tapped you on the shoulder.

“Come with me,” He said, opening up a gate. You shouldered your bag and followed him. You were confused, but you had a slight bit of foresight cause reading fanfics never hurt anyone.

“No matter where I go, I’m always gonna want you back

No matter how long you’re gone, I’m always gonna want you back

I know that you know, I will never get over you

No matter where I go, I’m always gonna want you back, want you back,” As the chorus ended, you were shoved on stage. The other boys were gone, and it was just Reggie, looking at you from across the stage as he sang.

“You know even when I say I’ve moved on

You know even though I know that you’re gone

All I think about is where I went wrong

You know even when I say I’ve moved on

You know even though I know that you’re gone

All I think about is where I went wrong

Yeah I still dream for you

No matter where I go, I’m always gonna want you back,” You don’t know what compelled you to move closer to him as he sang, but by the time the other boys jumped back in, you were two feet away from him. And as the gap got smaller and smaller, you could hear your heart get louder and louder.

“No matter where I go, I’m always gonna want you back

No matter how long you’re gone, I’m always gonna want you back

I know that you know, I will never get over you

No matter where I go, I’m always gonna want you back,” Your face was inches away from his.

“Want you back

I’m always gonna want you back

Want you back.”

And then you woke up in your empty apartment in New York.

Send me an ask/fill out this form to be added to my tag list! Send me an ask to be removed from my tag list.

JATP Tag List: @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @badwolf00593 @screwunsaidemily @potterly

Reggie Tag List: @willex-owns-my-heart

All: @funsizearsonist

#reggieappweek #reggie x reader #jatp #julie and the phantoms #netflixwewantjatp2 #cucumber writes #more tags coming in an rn cause it’s 11:30pm #0 brain cells left whoops

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misssilencewritewell · 4 years

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Overall review of wizards. Spoiler warning. This is just my opinion. If you enjoyed it, I’m happy for you. I think it was far too rushed.

Five episodes in we finally started to get introduced to interesting characters. But the pace never slowed down long enough to understand their role, their personalities, purpose, etc. It was a quick flash of ‘Oh that’s cool-and they’re gone...but I wanted to see more and understand...’ The quick glimpse of Angor Rot (my boy 😭) Why did he fish Morgana from the river? He hates humans...I’m confused??? He has magic. Did he learn from the evil magic squad?

The graphics are incredible. It looks amazing but I feel like for me to have a connection to this part of the story it had to have been longer. Another ten episodes of us getting to know Douxie in Arcadia would’ve been nice. When you dump as much information and new things on viewers it’s just too much for us to handle. I was so distracted by going “the heck is happening” to ever bond with Douxie. This makes me sad because I was enamored with him in Trollhunters. Also, he went from super suave bad boy to derpy bard boy. Not necessarily bad...but personally, I enjoyed his confidence in Trollhunters. Straight up hit a gum gum with a guitar. Not a magic one...just a regular guitar. Chad move. But this...felt weird. I personally think it would’ve been a much better plot twist had he been Mordred. Would’ve given him a darker edge, a vendetta, an interesting character arc. His goal to be to avenge his mother Morgana and kill Merlin/Trollhunters. Instead we find out that he’s basically a edgy, awkward bard. Which isn’t bad but not enough character development for me to be excited about any apparent growth or newly discovered powers.

Steve Palchuk (while I love his character) was unnecessary to this plot. I would’ve preferred Eli. His brains would have been helpful and I think his comedic relief would’ve fit better than Steves. Steve’s jokes just didn’t seem to land. The comedy relief was not timed right. Again, I absolutely loved Trollhunters and 3 Below...but there was never a moment to stop and catch your breath to know the world and characters which made it difficult to enjoy.

I still don’t fully understand how magic works. Douxie taught Claire for a minute and that was it and now he’s her teacher? Morgana and Merlin walk to the other side and say that sorcery dies with them but Claire and Douxie are left. Magic is...emotion? Kinda? Idk they never explained. 🤷‍♀️

Arthur’s character was...confusing to say the least. He misses his love and hates “dark” creatures because they killed her. But he comes back from the dead...to atone for his sins...by being evil? That didn’t make sense to me. Same with Morgana coming back and him being like sup sis! Know I tried to kill you but we are blood family! His super quick switch to asking for trolls help and loving his sister again was unexplained and made 0 sense. Just make him a dislikeable character and leave it at that. Sometimes it’s better to keep things simple. Over complicated plots can be messy and unenjoyable.

Morgana going from villain to hero was expected but executed poorly. She would flip like a switch and I just couldn’t sympathize with her as much as I did when she was a villain. I enjoyed her passion while being dark. Her redemption arc could’ve been handled so much better. Her having a romantic thing with Merlin and Merlin betraying her becoming the true villain while she is thirsty for revenge would’ve been top tier world building. We got butt jokes from Steve instead.

Strickler and Nomura. I want to see them. Especially back then? Oh they would be so evil and dark and I LIVE FOR IT. Especially since we love them now. It’d be cool to be reminded of their past. Back to the Jim smelling of human without being a changeling. Could’ve seen more on that and an interaction with him. They’d be fascinated I’m sure. Morgana created changelings but that could’ve easily been explained that she was working behind Arthur’s back the whole time. Working with Gunmar and creating changelings to infiltrate the castle while pretending to be submissive in court to Arthur and Merlin. It would explain why Changelings value cunning even more so and it would’ve been more believable than her talking to Claire one time and saying “yes! I’ll just tell my bro he crazy and needs to stop! Thank you kindly foreign hand maiden with dark magic!” Like there’s no reason for Morgana to trust her. Use her...sure. She would want Claire power, but Morgana’s character was far too rushed to make sense. I miss it when she was just a villain.

Also...Jim gets stabbed by a blade and they don’t call his mom? They don’t let her know her son could be dying? She’s a doctor. She doesn’t know much about the dark Magicks but she’s so smart and Strickler is her boyfriend. She should’ve been told. She should’ve shown up. I love her character and she adds a lot to the dynamic. Steve was the focal point far too often.

Bular. (Inhaled deeply). I missed him so much. It was cool to see Gunmar and Bular again. Bular I feel could’ve been interesting to build more too and I’m grateful for what we received. He obviously was more impressionable than his father. Morgana saved him and he immediately vouched for her while touching his fathers shoulder saying softly “she spared my life.” Like...Bular is an excellent character because even when fighting Jim in his final moments, Jim talks to him about dad issues and you can see Bular think about it and ultimately decide his fate. Just...ugh yes I missed the angry tall charcoal man.

Confusing part though...Gunmar and Bular declare that forest their own. Jim and Deya are there and watch as they scare off Arthur. You’re telling me they just let them go??? When they’re trying to recruit trolls for the war? They just go welp...see ya. Nah. There should’ve been dialogue there. The strange troll that smells of human but isn’t an impure. Cue the changelings. Could’ve been an awesome Segway into the life of the gum gums because honestly...Arthur was a douche and I sided with the Gum gums. Like yeah they eat people but Arthur was so...weird and uncomfortable to watch that I’d rather see the Gum gums who make no qualms over what they want or who they are.

The...giant dragon that’s the familiars dad. No reason for him at all. An attempt at a quirky dad character that landed flat. He went from oh lemme get you a cup of tea to DONT ChALlenge Me BoY I KnOw KaRAte!!! And I was like...ummmmm excuse me??? And then he went on to give a lesson on grief and show pictures of his son and I was like Soooooo we aren’t burning Douxie to a crisp? We are just going to throw in a quick ill timed lesson on grief?

The fight between Krel, Claire and the gang vs evil Jack Frost, eye ball raven, and evil Arthur electric boogaloo. Instead of showing the fight they did a recap. That fight would’ve been so awesome to watch and instead we got a recap of them getting their booties kicked. It’s an effective time saver but lazy story telling.

The fawn earth bender woman is important because she was part of the secret magic club and decided she didn’t want to kill people anymore...or something. As if her club ever lied to her about what they were about to do. Like Oh we are killing people? I thought you were joking for millions of years.

They all need her back to do...something evil that I can’t remember which I assume the movie will be about. I want more lore on evil Jack Frost and eyeball raven. They just were like “Congrats Morgana! We are the cool super old magic squad. We are the dopest thing in this show and we won’t say anything about ourselves besides a vague description in under 3 secs that leave our viewers confused and disappointed because they want more.”

Like seriously. They were the best part. Their intro was on a flying castle and I kinda hate that their intro was Merlin yelling “Oh no! Them!” Like we are supposed to know what and who they are. Build up is so important for an aundieces understanding. Like who they are? What they want? What they are? I spent the first half of the show mostly confused and the last half moderately confused and bewildered.

In conclusion, not my fave. It lacked the charm and quirkiness of 3 below and the depth and character development of Trollhunters to deliver a mediocre segway to a film. I really want this film to do well...but they will be on a time crunch and I was not impressed with how they handled this one in ten episodes. Fingers crossed the movie does better.

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monst · 4 years

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More than Seven: Mineta!

A bnharem collab

Masterlist and Intro <-

All Characters 18+

Mineta x reader

Warnings: You might be surprised…. It’s wholesome ^.^

As soon as the lid was removed you dropped it. A loud gasp slipped past your lips when you saw the glimmering jewels. You rubbed your eyes thinking it might have been a trick of the light, but no. Inside the box was a beautiful necklace, a beautiful expensive looking necklace. Your jaw dropped when you picked it up. You were no jeweler, but it looked genuine.

You peered back into the box and saw a note. It was the size of a phone card and in gorgeous calligraphy it read. ‘For your troubles’ You had thought it odd and flipped over the pristine parchment to let your eyes absorb the address. Underneath the address was a time.

’10 p.m., I’ll be the one drinking the gin and tonic at the back table’

You felt your cheeks heat up, this person didn’t want to get straight to it but wanted to chat and have a drink. You couldn’t help but think it was almost like a blind date. Except… That you were fucking said date…. However, based on the presentation of his letter and gift? You could only assume that they were wealthy, and it made you wonder. What type of rich person would waste their time in this? Couldn’t they just order someone from a catalogue?

“Maybe the just wanted a thrill?” You shrugged.

All throughout the week you couldn’t help but fantasize about the person. Were they male? Female? Nonbinary? Were they old? Young? In between? What did they do for a living to be able to gift something so expensive so randomly? (Over the weekdays you had went to validate the pureness of the necklace)

Jeez you were so excited that when Saturday finally arrived you had almost walked out without your shoes! When you got to the classy bar butterflies raged war in your belly.

“C’mon (Name) you’re not a green horn here, just walk in.” You sighed, trying to give yourself an encouraging push. When you opened the door, your ears were assaulted with the sounds of a bass and saxophone. The smooth jazz made you feel as if you were in a movie getting ready to meet with an important person. The thought that you could be meeting someone high end made you feel giddy.

It was then that your eyes caught the back table. You made out the glass holding the drink mentioned in the note and you made out the tan hand that wrapped around it. You couldn’t see them from the angle you were in but as you got closer you saw that person’s wrist. Wrapped around the person’s thin wrist was a gold rolex and you suddenly felt very self-conscious.

You hesitated, and a million thoughts flashed through your mind. Were you underdressed? Would they be able to tell that your shoes were from a thrift store? What if you messed up and your gracelessly dropped your drink? Would they leave?! Would you be left hot and ready all alone with a tab you couldn’t pick up!!??!?! ...Great…. Now you really needed a drink. ‘C’mon (Name) we made it this far, and if they reject you and don’t wanna smash then at least we can get wasted and hook up with someone else here???’

You held your breath and walked till you were adjacent to the table… You had thought up so many things about this mystery person, but you were not expecting well…him?

“Your disappointed aren’t you.” He sighed, his dark eyes gazing into his cup. “Your free to leave if you want. The necklace should be enough to pay you back for troubling you.”

You frowned at his tone. Sure, you weren’t expecting the rank 30 hero but that didn’t mean you were so much of an asshole to up and leave. Instead you slid into the seat Infront of the purple haired- Balled? Man… You felt your stomach flip in sorrow when he looked up at you. A thankful smile was stretched across his lips and you could see tears rimming his waterline. You smiled back timidly as he called over a server.

Surprisingly the both of you spoke for hours. He wasn’t as unpleasant as you had heard. And you found the reason why quite inspiring.

“Actually, there was a petition to have my hero license removed.” He grimaced. “I think it was when I received the notice that I decided to change.”

“Was it when you felt up that guy thinking he was a woman?” You asked.

“He slapped me right across the face and I kid you not I skid all the way across the street!” He laughed. “I was awful when I was younger, I know that now. I had no respect and crossed one to many boundaries treating women as if they were objects to look at.” He paused. “I was wrong. And I realized that my entire outlook was wrong. I wanted to be a hero to be popular… To be noticed. It almost cost me the lives of the people closest to me. But that is no more as the kids say I drink my women respect juice”

You chuckled at that, but you were still curious about one thing, so you did what anyone with a question does, you asked.

“…I.. I don’t really keep up with hero news but you’re the 30th hero that’s not bad, so I’m guessing your change worked?” You asked.

“Sort of, I think it’s more because of my sponsors.” He mused. “As you can see, I haven’t grown an inch, I’ve been this height for around 25 years now. And well if you look around you can pretty much guess that I’ve become somewhat of a brand. Because of my hero name and costume.”

“That explains a lot.” You hummed. “But you still do hero work right?”

“Rescue and infiltration mostly.” He answered.

“That’s actually pretty cool.” You smiled but, then you frowned in thought. “But if you’re this popular now why’d you sign up for something like this?”

He sighed. “I’m tired of people wanting to have sex with me for money, I figured since this was a blind one-night stand, I wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

“But then why send the necklace?” your queries knew no bounds that night…

“To apologize.” He shrugged. “You came all the down here. And besides even if we did fuck, you’d be left unsatisfied… It’s what they all say since I’m not…big..”

You parted your lips to speak when one of the servers came up to the both of you to tell you that they were closing soon. When you checked your phone, you saw that it was already 3a.m. You looked back up to Minoru who was paying the tab. A small smile touched your lips, sure you didn’t get the sex you were promised but you had a good time. When the woman walked away (With a healthy looking tip) you stood up.

You leaned over the table and pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“You don’t need a fat cock to make a girl feel good.” You winked, before turning to gather your things. “We should hang out again.” You smiled. “I could show you what I mean if you want.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond and you left him red faced and slack jawed. But the smile that you left with was genuine. “Who knows” You spoke to yourself as you walked home “I might just find something meaningful with the most unlikeliest of people.” You hummed slipping a piece of grape juice themed gum into your mouth.

Wanna Rewind time and get another item? <- Click Here

#bnharem collab #Mineta Minoru #mineta x reader #bnha insert #grape juice #grape jucie x reader #No what ya were expecting :P

205 notes · View notes

notebooknebula · 4 years

Video

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Brad Smotherman on Flipping Real Estate

https://www.jayconner.com/brad-smotherman-on-flipping-real-estate/

Brad Smotherman manages a 7 figure flipping business, and hold notes across Middle Tennessee. We invest in multiple states, and have houses from Michigan to Georgia right now.

Real Estate Cashflow Conference: https://www.jayconner.com/learnrealestate/

Free Webinar: https://www.jayconner.com/training/wtgtmn-webinar-rev2-podcast/?oprid=&ref=42135

Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

The Private Money Academy http://www.JayConner.com/Trial

———————————————————————-

Jay Conner (00:01): Well, hello there! And welcome to another exciting episode of Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner. I’m Jay Conner, your host of the show. Also known as The Private Money Authority. And if you’re brand new to the show, here on this show, we talk about all things that relate to real estate investing. We talk about investing in single family houses, commercial projects, small apartments, self storage, land deals, notes. And we also talk about how to get funding for those deals creatively and with private money. Now, if you’re brand new to this show, I’m known as The Private Money Authority, because from 2003 to 2009, I relied on the local banks and mortgage companies to fund my deals. But then I got cut off with no notice in 2009, but it was one of the biggest blessing in disguise. I was introduced to this wonderful world of private money.

Jay Conner (01:02): Since that time I’ve never missed out on a deal. I’ve rehabbed over 400 houses. Done even more deals creatively. And the reason I’ve never missed out on a deal since 2009 is because I got the cash ready to buy those all cash deals. And as we know, most of the sellers require all the money. So I’ve got a brand new free gift for everybody that’s tuning here on the show. And that is, I just launched The Private Money Academy. Which is a monthly membership where we actually have two live zoom conference a month with yes, yours truly me. For at least an hour to an hour and a half answering all your real estate investing questions. Getting you plugged into private money and funding for your deals. And we also have a hot seat session where we will take one of the members of the Academy, put you in the hot seat, analyze your business, and create a plan to take you and your business to the next level.

Jay Conner (01:57): So I have a free gift for everybody tuning in, and that is four weeks absolute free access to The Private Money Academy. And you get to come on the next two live shows for the Academy membership. Absolutely for free! You can take advantage of that and learn all about it after the show today at http://www.JayConner.com/Trial that’s http://JayConner.com/Trial Be sure and check that out, come on in to the membership for free, and I’ll see you on the inside of those live zoom conference coaching calls.

Jay Conner (02:41): Well, as you know, if you’ve been tuning in to Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner, we have amazing guests and experts here on the show. And today is no exception. Before I bring my special guest out of the green room and here to the forefront. Let me tell you just a little bit about him. Well, my guest today is a real estate investor and a mentor. And he owns and manages a seven figure per year flipping business. So my guest and I, we’ve got a lot in common. Well, his passion is being a top house flipper in the nation. And his other passion is also helping other newer investors build a sustainable real estate investing company. Well, with 11 years, he started back in 2010 on the real estate investing side. With 11 years in the real estate investing business, he’s invested in over 15 States. And yes, today on today’s show, we’re going to be talking about how do you do this business remotely and totally virtually.

Jay Conner (03:41): He also has houses all the way from Michigan to Georgia. And today he has completed over 550 transactions today. Yes, he knows what he’s talking about from experience. In addition to that, he focuses on buying single family flips creatively. Using both subject to the existing note strategy, and he buys a lot with owner financing. In fact, he is known as the Owner Finance Guy. He also uses the strategy of selling retail or with owner financing, with creating wrap around notes. I know you’ve heard that terminology. Wrapping around a note. And if that’s sort of a new term to you or an old term, and you don’t know what it means, we’re going to talk about that on today’s show as well and how you can utilize that strategy as well.

Jay Conner (04:34): Well, he is also the host of one of the top 100 business podcasts in the nation. And the name of his podcast is Investor Creator. And there on the podcast, he teaches new and seasoned real estate investors. How to take their house flipping business to a multiple six or even seven figure income without sacrificing freedom. After all, what do we want in this real estate investing world is, wealth and freedom. And my guest today is an expert in that area. My guest lives in Nashville, Tennessee. And with that, welcome to the show, my friend and expert, Mr. Brad Smotherman! Brad, welcome to the show!

Brad Smotherman (05:18): Jay, I appreciate you having me on. I have a feeling we’re going to have so much fun with this. I’m just going to have to take a nap after we get done.

Jay Conner (05:24): Yes, you are! My lands! Brad, I’m so excited to have you on. And I know just by your intro, your bio and the short period of time that we’ve been around each other, we’ve got a lot in common. In fact, my best guess, one of your core values, and one of your secrets to success is having the mindset and the framework of putting other people first, having their interests ahead of your interest. Would you agree with that?

Brad Smotherman (05:52): Hundred percent! A hundred percent!

Jay Conner (05:54): So Brad, first of all, you look entirely too young to be this successful, but anyway, I’ll go beyond that statement pretty quickly. You’re from Nashville, Tennessee. You grow up in Nashville?

Brad Smotherman (06:06): I did. Born and raised.

Jay Conner (06:08): You’re sing country?

Brad Smotherman (06:10): No. I don’t see anything. And that’s a good thing for everybody that would have to listen. So for the people that know how to sing it I’ll just listen politely like everyone else.

Jay Conner (06:20): But now you enjoy going to the Grand Ole Opry, right?

Brad Smotherman (06:22): Oh, certainly! And like I was telling you guys before I’m out taking my grandmother to see Merle Haggard there twice, and we saw George Jones once and just had a great time. So, absolutely!

Jay Conner (06:33): That’s awesome. Well, I’m excited to have you here on the show today. Brad, because you’re known as the owner financed guy. You’re an expert in the area of buying houses on terms controlling them creatively or whatever. So first of all, if you would explain to the audience, what is your business model look like?

Brad Smotherman (06:59): Well, I think my business model is a little bit different than most because everybody out there, especially the past five or six years, what they wanted to do is, you know, they wanted to wholesale something. They wanted to fix something and flip it. And you know, the past 10 years we’ve had an explosion of these fix and flip TV shows. And frankly, Jay, those shows just give me anxiety. Like I can’t watch them. Literally. I went to the dentist the other day and asked me what I wanted to watch as I’m sitting there in the chair. I was like anything, but this HGTV stuff, right?

Jay Conner (07:25): Well, wait a minute, Brad. Now, why would I, why would a reality show that I’m sure is real, that shows you how to make a hundred grand in 30 minutes with no headaches. Why would that give you anxiety?

Brad Smotherman (07:36): Well, just like, you know, I mean, it’s not real. And then, you know, secondly, I’m looking at what they’re spending on the kitchen. I’m thinking I could do it for a sixth of that. And then the person buying the house, it’s like, well, what do you do for a living? And they say, well, we catch butterflies and rainbows all day. And our budget’s 2 million bucks and it’s just like, it just doesn’t seem exactly genuine to me. But maybe they’re just in a different market, a better market than I’ve ever seen. Let’s just say that.

Jay Conner (08:01): Yeah! I get it, Brother, I get it. Sorry to interrupt. What’s your business model looks like?

Brad Smotherman (08:04): Yeah. And that’s a hundred percent fine. So, you know, I started in 2010 and my background was very similar to yours in a certain way, although I didn’t live it. So I worked for a builder developer. Well, I sold real estate through college and everything was going really, really well up until the crash of ’08. And in 2009, the bankers came in and said, well, sorry, we’re going to have to call your loan. You have 30 days to pay us off. And as you know, during that time, there’s really no way to refinance commercial lending, you know, especially a development loan. And so it bankrupted them. And luckily I was able to learn the lessons from the crash without actually having to be involved in the crash. And so when that happened, I realized very quickly, I didn’t want bank money in my business. Very similar to what you’re dealing with. Right?

Brad Smotherman (08:46): So it’s like, guys, being able to raise private money is paramount to this business. Like what Jay is talking about is super, super important. But, so I got started in 2010 and back then, you really couldn’t wholesale because no, very few people had an equity position that was big enough to where you could wholesale it. And then also the fix and flip model was very difficult because that couldn’t get money. And so I had to find another way. Well, what I found worked. Has always worked and what I feel will always work is creating owner financing. And so what we do is we buy creatively when we buy and then we sell with owner financing and a vast majority of our transactions. We still go retail at times and that’s okay. But what we want to do is we want to create longterm cash flow with longterm capital assets. And for me, I’d rather have that in mortgage notes. I feel like it’s far more scalable than rentals. We’re able to get paid to take the note in most of our transactions. It’s not like I’m putting cash out there to invest. We’re getting longterm assets given to us. And I just had to find another way because I couldn’t, I didn’t want to wholesale, I couldn’t wholesale. And the fix and flip model looked like really difficult to me during that time. And so we’ve been pretty much doing a similar model ever since.

Jay Conner (09:53): So to recap what you just said, tell me if I got it right. Your core model is buy on terms, buy with owner financing, buy with subject to, buying creatively without paying all the cash. Take that same property, turn around and sell it creatively to a new buyer with owner financing or what have you. So let’s break that down. First of all, you said, the reason you do that is because you want to build longterm wealth by leveraging an asset that’s going to continue to pay you monthly for a long time. Is that right?

Brad Smotherman (10:38): A hundred percent. That’s right.

Jay Conner (10:40): So in today’s market, I know from my own business, I know from my students’ businesses that finding a deal today in the multiple listing service is a bonus. The deals are not in the multiple listing service buying large. So we have to find our deals off market. We have to find houses that are not in the multiple listing service. So if you don’t mind pulling back the curtain for us just a little bit and give us a little sneak peek as to what is working for you today to find these people that have houses for sale, or maybe they haven’t considered selling their house. How do you find these deals?

Brad Smotherman (11:30): That’s a great question. Well, I mean, as we know, everything starts with a motivated seller. So the foundation of the business is marketing for motivated sellers. Now for me, real estate is a means to an end. I mean, if I can do this business with dump trucks or swimming pools, I would do that. I’m not in love with houses. They break, they smell bad. Some of them. One of my apprentices yesterday in San Antonio, he’s buying a house that has 70 cats in it. And I can’t imagine how bad that is, but you know, at the end of the day, marketing comes down to two different avenues. We can do sweat marketing, or we can do paid marketing. Man. When I started, I didn’t have any money. So I had to do the sweat marketing side of things. And so the examples of that would be, you know, putting out bandit signs, you know, although you’re paying for the sign, what I would do is I would put them out Friday night and pull them up early Monday morning.

Brad Smotherman (12:13): And so a hundred signs, a couple of hundred bucks would last me three or four months, right? So that’s more of a sweat technique as opposed to leaving them out. Another one that were having a lot of success with is actually networking with wholesalers because wholesalers are slave to the 70% rule. We’re able to go in and do deals that they can’t do, right? Because we buy creatively as opposed to just throwing cash offers around all over the place. Right? So I’ve got an apprentice in Texas. He’s done three transactions this month, where wholesalers are bringing him the deal. You know, one of them is at a 0% owner finance rate. Now why a wholesaler would want to make a $5,000 assignment fee on a deal where we’ve got like four years and this thing is going to be paid off and we’ve got an $80,000 note on it.

Brad Smotherman (12:55): I don’t really understand. Okay. So that’s a couple of options in terms of sweat marketing. What I hope for people is that they understand that marketing is an investment. It’s not a cost. So effective marketing should at a minimum of 25 X. So if you’re spending a thousand dollars in effective marketing per month, you should over time buy at $25,000 per month in equity. Right? As an average. Now, what I hope for people is that if you have to start with the sweat side, that you go to the paid marketing side, as soon as you can. Okay? So in my world, the best paid marketing that we can do is Pay-per-Click so being there on Google ads, whenever they’re there, like people are searching for us. Searching, sell my house fast, or companies that buy houses. We want to be there. When people have already realized that they have a problem and we can be there to offer a solution, but it has to be done very well. I know a lot of people that have lost a lot of money when it comes to doing Pay-per-Click campaigns, because they don’t understand how to drive traffic number one, and how to create conversion. Once someone is, has landed on a page number two, but those are examples of sweat marketing paid marketing that we use in our business.

Jay Conner (13:57): Excellent! So as we know, and most of our audience here knows. When talking to an off market seller, a person that owns a single family house, you know, they don’t have it in the multiple listing service. They have some type of motivation. Most of these people are going to be anticipating when you’re starting that conversation with them of you buying their house. Most of these people like 99% of them are more having their mind that, well, if I sell my house, I’m going to get all the money, right? I mean, it’s like, that’s the traditional way. I sell a house, I get all the money. But now, you come along and you are going to be talking to them about creative selling or them becoming the bank. Or there’s a note and they’re going to get payments. What are your secrets? And as our friend Eddie would say, talk off points. Well, what are you, what are your secrets or scraping that takes a person that’s never considered selling on terms and waiting for all their money over time, from the point of then expecting to get all the cash up front?

Brad Smotherman (15:06): That’s a great question. And what I would submit to you is the first thing that we can’t do is make offers. So in my world, I really feel like an offer is a commodity to shop. And I can’t even begin to tell you how many houses that we’ve gone in and bought because, you know, two or three other investors had gone in and left an offer behind for them to think about. And then we come in because we won’t give them our price. They’re giving us a price. We’re making sure that that’s the least that they will take. And then we’re going to switch it to terms. So let’s say that someone says, well, and we talk about things in terms of cash at closing. So if somebody owes a hundred thousand dollars and they want to sell the property for 115, then I’m going to switch it and say, well, so your cash at closing is $15,000.

Brad Smotherman (15:48): So assuming that they would sell to me for that $15,000 cash at closing, then I’m going to say, well, you know, I can do that. If we can do it another way, and this is how we can make it work. So I’ve never given them a price and they’ve given me the price. So I mean, what we’ve done there is we’ve made it very difficult for them at that point to really begin to pull back and think about it because we’re giving them their number. We never give a price ever. Now, Jay, there’s some times that we do pay cash for properties, we just bought one outside of Huntsville, Alabama, about a month ago that the people had paid $160,000 cash for it in 2012, we paid 15,000 for it. And, you know, it’s like at that price, I don’t really feel the need to negotiate terms.

Brad Smotherman (16:29): You know, it’s like, we’ll just pay the 15K. And I thought about it. It kinda hurt my feelings to not get 0% owner financing on that 15. But I was like, you know, they need the money. They need the 15 grand we’ll just go ahead and pay it. But the short answer is I think the real skill is to, to be able to negotiate with people, without giving them a price, giving them an offer. I feel like if you give an offer, it’s a commodity, a commodity for them to shop. I also think it’s kind of acrimonious. People feel like they’re good negotiators because somebody can say, well, I want $200,000 from our house. And you can say, well, how does a hundred thousand sound? I don’t think that’s negotiation at all. I think that’s horse trading. And like my family came from the agriculture world.

Brad Smotherman (17:09): So, I mean, we were pig farmers. I mean, and I saw that growing up all the time, you know, that doesn’t work for houses as well. Like if we can make people realize that we’re not there to take advantage, if we can make the number work, then we will make it work. But there’s equity. There’s two types of equity. There’s equity at price and equity in terms. So if we can create equity in terms, a lot of times that’s a better equity position for us to have as a longterm play, as opposed to just like really working in the 70%. If that makes sense.

Jay Conner (17:37): Do you ever offer or give multiple offers or multiple strategies of saying, okay, if you want your price, we can do it this way. If you’ve got to have all cash, we can do it this way. And if you want a third option, we can do it this way. Or do you, most of the time stay with say the the terms negotiation and conversation?

Brad Smotherman (18:02): And that’s a great question. So we don’t do like the three offer strategy of like, we can do it this way, this way, or this way, this way, because what I’ve found, at least in my own personal experiences that I had people say, well, I want this price with that term.

Jay Conner (18:14): They want to pick and choose the way they want it.

Brad Smotherman (18:18): Yeah. It was like, we’ll take this closing date. We’ll take that price with those terms. It’s like, well, that’s not really how it works. What I’ll say to that is it’s really common for us to, to bounce back and forth between price and terms. So if someone says, okay, this is the price that we want, they’ll say, well, if you want it like that, here’s how we can make that work. And they said, well, that doesn’t work for us. And then we’ll go back and say, well, is that price the least you would take? And so we start talking about pricing in. And I’ve had situations where we have to kind of go back and forth three or four times before we land somewhere. And it’s generally somewhere kind of in the middle that we find that people will work within kind of the median based on what they’re hoping for. You know, if we can substantiate pricing and values and costs to where we can show like, Hey, these are the numbers that you’re working with. Like, this is the value. This is the cost to get it there. Here’s my breakeven number. You know, what are you hoping for your cash at closing people generally tend to be a little bit more reasonable if we can substantiate why they should accept a lower price and what they were hoping for.

Jay Conner (19:15): When you have someone that is agreeable or at least open. They’re open to the idea Terms and, you know, taking payments or equity over time or whatever. Do you, in your, in your conversation, do you tell them how long or how long the term of the note would be? Or do you ask them what’s the longest they could go? Or how do you get to that agreeable length of the note?

Brad Smotherman (19:51): Yeah. So what we talk about is in terms of some now and some later, so we’re going to talk about it and say, okay, how much cash do you need at closing to make it work? And they’ll give us a number and we’ll kind of negotiate that. It’s like, okay, if I can get you X at closing, then how soon were you hoping to get, no, we do it this way. We can either do payments every month, like an annuity or retirement plan, or we can do a lump sum in the future, which were you hoping for? Generally, people kind of gravitate towards the payments per month. But the thing that we never mentioned is interest. Okay. We never really talk about terms. We’re going to talk about it in terms of, you know, $20,000 at closing and $500 per month until paid.

Brad Smotherman (20:27): And so people are kind of looking at that and saying, especially if they’re a landlord. Guys, if you’re, if you’re dealing with a landlord that has free and clear property and they’re tired landlord, you should absolutely be able to negotiate owner financing because these people are open to receiving payments. That’s what they bought the property for in the first place. Well, if we can just kind of segment it to being like, well, how much do you need at closing? What would you like a lump sum in the future? Or would you like monthly payments? Generally, they’re going to say, well, I’d love monthly payments and we can negotiate something, but we never really talk about it in terms of, well, it’s a 10 year loan and here’s the rate we never mentioned. Certainly we’d never mentioned interest. We don’t really ever talk about the term as well.

Jay Conner (21:03): So you would agree that most of the terms that you structure are payments with no interests?

Brad Smotherman (21:10): Correct. A hundred percent. I’ve only paid interest twice on owner finance deals. And both of those were properties I wanted. They were both lake properties and I was like, I’ve gotta have this. I think I paid a 3% rate on one and four and a half on the others.

Jay Conner (21:24): I love it! I love it! Well, Brad, now let’s really change gears from the owner financing thing and the term thing to this world that you’re in of investing remotely. My lands! You are in, you’ve invested in 15 States. You invest from Michigan to Georgia. And when I asked you a question that could take you three days to answer, but you got about three minutes instead.

Brad Smotherman (21:55): We’ll work with that.

Jay Conner (21:55): But how in the world do you invest remotely in 15 different States? And we know what, we know everybody’s concerns are. I mean, how do you find those deals, you know, out there in a different state, what’s your boots on the ground? How do you make sure you’re not being taken to the cleaners? How do you manage all that stuff remotely? And you know, my land! You can’t drive by it and see what’s happening to the property. I mean, what does that world look like?

Brad Smotherman (22:24): Yeah. And you’re right. That would be about a three hour answer. But to put it into three minutes, the first fundamental that we have to understand is that the farther away we are from our own personal market, the cheaper the property must be. So we have to have a higher discount. Now, I’ll buy something at 60 cents on the dollar cash in my backyard, but I’m definitely not going to do that, you know two States away, right. So we have to have a greater discount because you’re a hundred percent, right. We’re going to have issues that we don’t expect right now. We don’t have, you know, a large amount of like workforce that can help us in these deals generally. Right. So what we’re going to do is we market to areas that we like, okay. And because we’re marketing in big geographic areas, our lead cost is actually quite a bit lower.

Brad Smotherman (23:12): It’s substantially lower. So we can do one of two things. We can either have a lower ad budget, or we can keep our ad budget the same and have maybe three or four times a lead flow. Okay. So let’s just say we have four times the lead flow. Well, what that means is that, that deal that comes around twice a year, three times a year is going to happen for me roughly every two months. Or, you know, the deal that happens every four months is going to happen for me every month. So I can be a little bit more picky based on what I’m looking at. And so in terms of the value, the decisions are very easy, actually. So I mean, case in point, we just bought one in Montgomery, Alabama. The property had a comp across the street that sold in in February for 76,000, we bought this one for 13, so we have it under contract.

Brad Smotherman (23:59): And so once we have an under contract, we go into due diligence. So the first thing we’re going to look at is value. So what is the value based on what we expect right now? So we feel like roughly this thing’s worth $75,000 and I can probably owner finance it for 89 or maybe 99,000 with a 10K down payment. You know, at a minimum 10K. So with that, we’re gonna talk to two or three brokers in that market, real estate agents that are gonna give us CMAs. Give us an idea of value. And then we’re going to then once the value looks okay, we’re going to switch to condition. So we’re going to get actually a home inspection on this property. Okay guys, once we have three different CMAs from agents and they all kind of make sense for one another, like there’s congruency in those three CMAs, and then we go and we get the home inspection, we’re going to know really everything that we need to know in terms of that property, especially with the discounts that we’re buying.

Brad Smotherman (24:48): So, I mean, the question being is that a little bit more risky than buying it around backyard? It certainly is. Whenever, if you were paying dollar for dollar the same amount, but if you’re paying 60 cents in your own backyard or 20 cents in another state, then I would ask you, well, which is more risky at that point. Okay. So short answer, we’re going to get things under contract that we feel pretty comfortable with. Then we’re going to verify and find the facts that we know and what we don’t know. At that point, we’re going to make a final decision. Sometimes we have to renegotiate price most of the time we don’t, because it’s just such a severe discount on the front end. And I mean, in terms of management, the thing is that we’re owner financing most of these, almost all. And so if we’re owner financing things, we’re serving the least served in the most underserved buyer pool in the country.

Brad Smotherman (25:32): There’s a lot of people that need owner financing. And since March, this is what I heard from Eddie Speed yesterday. And Jay, I know, you know, Eddie. So he said that if a hundred people could get a mortgage in March before this COVID thing hit, then right now there’s 64 people that can get a mortgage that’s left out of those hundred. Well, what happened to those other 36 people? Did they just decide not to buy? Well, no, they need owner financing at this point. So we’re serving a very needed, a very underserved buyer pool that needs owner financing. So sell the house with owner financing, create the note. I don’t want ownership and property. I feel like property is liability. We want to own the paper. Okay. So we create owner financing. So the house owner financing to have a longterm cash flowing asset. And in a nutshell, that’s how we buy remotely.

Jay Conner (26:18): To what extent do you buy houses remotely with owner financing? To what extent is, are you comfortable with the amount of repairs or rehabbing involved?

Brad Smotherman (26:33): Yeah. I mean, we’re not going to rehab anything. So if the property means that the grass cut, somebody better go cut the grass because we’re going to buy it. We’re going to sell it as is, you know, the best example that I have with this. I had a house that I bought for $2,000 one time. And now I don’t understand why people do what they do sometimes. Jay, I know that doesn’t resonate with you. I’m sure that you’ve never seen anything that didn’t make sense. But for me, I see a lot of things that don’t make sense in my world. And this lady sold me the house for $2,000 and she had just done new vinyl and new windows on the exterior. They surely looked great, but she said, I don’t want you to go in the house because I’m afraid you won’t buy it.

Brad Smotherman (27:07): This was maybe six or seven years ago. And I’m actually going to look at houses. I said, well, respectfully, I have to go look at, you know, I have to go inside. And so this lady, the roof look kind of bad, but I didn’t realize how bad the roof was. She did new vinyl, new windows. She didn’t do the roof. And so water had been pouring into this house for like four or five years. And so like, literally the back half of this thing was gone. I mean, it was like molded. It was soft, the subfloor, you couldn’t stand in the kitchen, all this, it was a mess! But we sold it with owner financing. As is! Like, I’m not going to do that kind of construction. I’m not a construction guy. Literally I had to come over. I had to have a handyman come to my house and replace the doorknobs because I don’t know how to do any of that stuff. So like, I’m terrible.

Jay Conner (27:46): You and I have something else in common, my friend!

Brad Smotherman (27:49): Glad to hear that, man! I think we’re like kindered souls just, probably not from the same parents, just generationally, but you know what I’m saying? We’re cut from the same cloth.

Jay Conner (28:00): A brother from another mother.

Brad Smotherman (28:04): For sure.

Jay Conner (28:07): So you’re not gonna do any, you’re not gonna do any major rehabs. I get it. So my lands! How do you find, so are you finding most of these deals remotely in other States? Again, as you mentioned using Pay-Per-Click. Google Pay-per-Click.

Brad Smotherman (28:25): A hundred percent. So, I mean, these are people that are actively searching to solve a problem and we’re there when they need to be.

Jay Conner (28:30): I love it when people are looking for me and I’m not looking for them.

Brad Smotherman (28:34): Big difference because people don’t understand the difference in the negotiation structure. So, I mean, if I’m contacting someone to sell me something, versus someone contacting me to buy something, that’s a huge difference in the frame of negotiation. And so we always want to be where someone is searching for us. If we can be, of course, there’s always exceptions. You know, like anything works some of the times. So we can do the text, we can do the direct mail. I used to do 70,000 direct mailers a month. I don’t do any of that anymore because it comes down to, I don’t want to contact someone to sell something. I want people contacting me to buy something.

Jay Conner (29:08): Final question, Brad. At least almost final question I have to, I have to precursor that. So we know how you’re finding these deals. You got all these people that need owner financing. They don’t know there’s a way. So how in the world do you get the word out to all these people that you’ve got owner-financed terms available? How do you find the buyers?

Brad Smotherman (29:29): And that’s a great question. So our big three are Craigslist, Facebook marketplace, and then putting yard signs out that say owner financing. And so…

Jay Conner (29:38): My number one on a, so I sell, I don’t do owner financing out here in this market. That’s another conversation. I do a lot of rent to own. I love your model. Regardless. It’s the same buyer, whether they’re buying owner financing or they’re buying rent to own. But with that, Facebook marketplace, hands down. Is my best lead source for finding these owner finance buyers.

Brad Smotherman (30:04): Yeah. It’s really amazing. I’ve got a, I’d say she’s at least half time and probably closer to three quarter time. And the poor girl, she probably has carpal tunnel by now because like you post a house for sale with owner financing and all of these buy-sell-trade groups. And like, you can see like the computer almost begin to melt because it’s overheating from all the people responding. And it makes sense. I mean, it’s really common in a market. So I’m in Nashville, Tennessee. The last time I checked, there were 2,700 houses on the market on the MLS to service everyone that could get mortgage financing. Well, there were three that were offered with owner financing and they were mine. And so it’s like, if that’s the case, you can see the disparity in the supply demand curve. You have a huge group of demand for very, very little inventory. And so selling the houses never really been a problem.

Jay Conner (30:53): I love it! Brad, I know my audience wants to stay connected with you. How can they stay connected with Brad Smotherman?

Brad Smotherman (31:00): Yeah. So for those that are interested more on owner financing and what we do, then you can listen to my podcast, Investor Creator, on iTunes and the various other platforms. And if anybody wants to reach out to me directly, feel free to do so. At http://BradSmotherman.com

Jay Conner (31:13): That’s awesome, Brad! It’s so great to have you here on the show, Brad, I really enjoyed our conversation. I know the audience did as well. And so let me give it to you for parting comments and final advice.

Brad Smotherman (31:26): You know, the thing that I want to say to people is, always would try to instill the amount of hope that I can, you know, I think a lot of people want to do this business and they have a lot of fear. And I remember how that was in 2010 when I started, because you know, I started in the brokerage business. I was a realtor and not a super successful one at that. I made a living, but you know, whenever I decided to be an investor, I thought, gosh, like nobody’s going to leave a loan in place. Nobody’s going to sell out a discount. Nobody’s, you know, and it’s the same thing that I’ve heard, you know, and here’s kind of like the hierarchy of beliefs that fell down for me. I thought nobody would leave alone in place. Well, that happened.

Brad Smotherman (32:01): And then I thought, well, nobody’s going to sell at 50 cents on the dollar. And then that happened. And then I thought, well, nobody’s going to give me 0% owner financing. And then that happened. And then I thought, well, all of this is because we’re that good in person. We can’t do it on the phone. And then we started buying all of those on the phone. And so at the end of the day, I mean, this business works. It’s an amazing business. It changes lives. And if you feel compelled, you have a passion for the business and you have a passion to help people with their problems and you can do very well in this business. Stay with it.

Jay Conner (32:28): That’s awesome! Brad, thank you so much. And thank you! My audience for tuning in. It’s always great to have you here. And I know you found this episode very valuable. I’m Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority. Wishing you all the best and here is to taking your real estate investing business to the next level. And I’ll see you on the next show. Bye for now!

#Jay Conner #Private Money Lender #Real Estate Business #Real Estate #Real Estate Investing #Real Estate Investor #Real Estate Profit #The Private Money Authority #The Private Money Academy

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lawssword · 3 years

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Day: One Affection

Word Count: 1.8k

Luffy slipped his hand into Law's, lacing their fingers together as they walked through the grocery store. Law tried not to pay it any mind. Tried not to pay attention to the second glances thrown their way.

"What do you want for dinner?" Law asked. "There's still cilantro left, it would go well with tacos."

"Oh!" Luffy's voice hitched with excitement and he hugged Law's arms to him. "We can make those chicken tacos that Sanji made on New Years'."

"I think we could make it work," Law said with a small smile. "I think we'd need sour cream, lime, and chicken."

"Can we get rum and orange juice too?" Luffy asked.

"Captain Morgan's?" Law asked.

"Yep, the pineapple one!" Luffy agreed.

"Deal," Law said.

"You're the best Torao!" Luffy smiled and kissed Law's cheek. That definitely caught some second glances of people passing by. They gathered everything they needed for dinner and headed for the checkout.

"Oh, the rum!" Luffy said.

"I know, I'm going to grab it, you get the groceries and I'll meet you at the car," Law said. Law couldn't exactly get it with Luffy with him.

"Shishi, okay," Luffy said. "Oh, can we watch Pirates of the Caribbean when we get home?"

"Of course," Law said with a small smile. He let go of Luffy's hand and disappeared around the corner. Law found the rum that Luffy wanted and went up to the counter to pay. He set the two bottles he got in the back seat and leaned against the car, waiting for Luffy.

Luffy was coming out the automatic doors of the grocery store with the cart full of groceries in no time. Luffy propelled himself down the parking lot towards Law, standing on the cart.

Law shook his head as Luffy went horribly off course. He stepped out in the lane that Luffy was the middle of now. Law caught the cart and Luffy came to a halt, doubling over on the cart.

"I think you missed the turn," Law commented, he pulled the cart towards the car and opened the trunk.

"Maybe," Luffy said, smiling all the same. "But I knew you'd catch me."

"How corny," Law muttered as he started getting the groceries put away. Luffy grabbed a couple bags and got them put in the car too. Once the cart was empty, Luffy wrapped his arms around Law.

"Dinner is gunna be so good!" Luffy exclaimed, looking up at Law with a smile that made his eyes disappear. "I can already smell the chicken."

Law tilted Luffy's chin up just a bit and leaned in to kiss him.

"Oh," Luffy muttered, he stood on his toes and met Law halfway. Law pressed his hand to the small of Luffy's back and hugged him close. With his other hand, Law closed the trunk and they slowly parted.

Law smirked and looked at Luffy in that way that made Luffy curl his toes. "Get the cart put away and I'll start the car." Law's voice was quiet. He only spoke as loud as he needed to for Luffy to hear him.

"Okay," Luffy said. Law's hand fell from his back. Luffy spun the cart in the direction of the cart return and propelled it and himself forward with his foot. The car tipped back with Luffy's weight but Luffy took it in stride and took the chance to steer the cart into the return. Law chuckled to himself and got into the car.

Luffy hoped in and Law pulled out of the parking spot. As soon as they were on the road Law took Luffy's hand in his. He kissed the back of it as he drove and rubbed circles on Luffy's hand with his thumb.

It was only about ten minutes before Law pulled into his assigned parking space that was labeled the same as his and Luffy's apartment. Luffy's bike was parked in the spot next to them.

"Im so hungry I could eat 12 whole tacos!" Luffy exclaimed, jumping out of the car. "No, 14!"

Luffy started heading up the stairs.

"You're not getting even a tortilla if you don't help me with groceries," Law threatened.

"Oh!" Luffy gasped. "I forgot!" Luffy backtracked all the way to the back of the car and helped Law carry in the groceries. They for everything up to their apartment in one go. Luffy called it a win.

Law started putting the groceries away as soon as the bags hit the ground while Luffy got the movie ready.

"Torao," Luffy called. "Which one is the first?" Luffy asked.

"Curse of the Black Pearl," Law replied.

"It's not on Netflix!"

"Disney Plus."

"Oh!"

Luffy let the intro play out but paused it before the actual movie started.

"Do you need help?" Luffy waltzed into the kitchen as Law got the last of the groceries put into the pantry.

"Nope," Law said.

"Oh, that was fast."

"Mhm." Law already started unwrapping the chicken they had bought. Luffy stood by Law's side and ran his hand up Law's back.

"Can I help you make dinner?"

"Well, that depends, are you actually going to help, or are you going to eat everything when I'm not looking." Law glanced at Luffy as he poured seasoning over the pan.

"I wanna help you cook!" Luffy insisted.

"Hm, alright then," Law turned on the stove to heat up the pan and turned to Luffy.

"Promise you won't eat anything until all of dinner is ready and we're watching the movie," Law said.

"I promise!" Luffy assured.

"Ah, so I have your word," Law smiled like he had Luffy caught in a corner. "And you can't break your promise."

"I would never!" Luffy insisted.

"Alright, then," Law grabbed the onion and tomato he had left out to cut up for the tacos. "Cut these up for the tacos."

Luffy stood on his toe and kissed Law's cheek, he took the vegetables and set them on the counter next to the stove. Luffy dug out a cutting board and knife before he stared with the tomato.

"Am I supposed to cut it like little squared or like it's going on a burger?" Luffy asked.

"Squares." Law laid the meet onto the pan in front of him.

"Uhh," Luffy cut the tomato in half and chopped off the leaves. "I don't know how to do that. "

"Hold on," Law said. Law turned to the sink that was behind him and washed his hands before coming up behind Luffy.

"Hm?" Luffy looked over his shoulder at Law while Law put his hands over Luffy's, guiding the knife.

"Cut it in half like this," Law said. Luffy turned the knife sideways with Law and cut it down the middle.

"Oh! I've seen Sanji do this," Luffy said.

"Still need my help?" Law asked.

"I got it!" Luffy said with confidence. Law brought his hand from Luffy's to Luffy's waits and kissed his cheek.

Law turned his attention back to the chicken it wasn't cooked enough for Law to break it up for the tacos yet. Law opted to take care of the cilantro in the meantime. He cut off the stem and separated out all the leaves.

The knife Luffy was using slipped and Luffy jerked his hand away. The knife clattered against the counter.

"Did you cut yourself?" Law asked, he took Luffy's hands in his, checking Luffy's fingers for damage.

"No, it just slipped," Luffy said. There were no cuts on Luffy's hand to contradict the statement.

"Be careful," Law muttered, turning his attention back to the cilantro while Luffy finished up the tomato. Law set the cilantro aside and checked on the chicken, he flipped it and put more seasoning over it.

Luffy started on the onion, cutting it up the same way he had with the tomato. The onion was a lot easier since it wasn't so soft. Or at least that's why Luffy thought the tomato was hard to cut.

"You gotta peel the outer layer," Law said.

"What?" Luffy had no idea what Law was talking about. Law came over and took the onion.

"The outer layer is all dried up, we can't eat it, so you take it off," Law explained and he pulled off the outer layers.

"Woah!" Luffy watched in amazement. Law set half of the onion back down before doing the same to the other half. Luffy set back to cutting it.

In movies whenever someone cut onions, it made them cry, but that wasn't happening at all. It must be one of those things that aren't real. Or at least that's what Luffy thought before his eyes started to sting. Luffy squinted to ease the stick as he brought the knife down.

Onto his finger.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Luffy yelped. The noise made Law jump.

"Luffy-ya," Law sighed, though part of him knew that They'd end up like this. Law fond the cut on Luffy's hand. It wasn't too bad but Law wasn't going to give Luffy another chance to cut himself. Law reached past Luffy for the faucet and turned on the tap.

"Let the water run over it, I'm gonna grab the first aid kit," Law said.

"Oh," Luffy muttered, sticking his hand under the running water. "It stings!" Luffy yanked his hand away.

"Leave it, you were handling food, we need to make sure it's clean," Law said, he brought Luffy's hand back under the water. Luffy winced. "I'll be right back."

Law grabbed the first aid kit from under the bathroom sink and returned to Luffy in the kitchen. Law set it on the counter next to the sink and popped it open.

"You can turn the water off," Law said. Luffy did just that while Law grabbed some alcohol wipes and band-aids. Luffy let Law take care of the cut, watching him put Neosporin and finally the bandaid over it.

"How long until you're a doctor again?" Luffy asked.

"At least four years," Law said.

"I dunno, I think you could be a doctor now," Luffy said with a grin.

Law chuckled, "Maybe a nurse in another year.

"But look at how well you patched me up," Luffy said.

"It's a bandaid," Law countered.

"Still," Luffy said.

"I don't think a hospital would agree with you," Law said.

"I don't care." Luffy stuck his tongue out at Law just as Law looked up at Luffy.

"You're so childish," Law muttered with a small smile.

"Shishi," Luffy grinned, "I'm just fun, Torao!" Luffy leaned forward and kissed Law. Law wrapped his arm around Luffy and tilted his chin up just a little to get a better angle. The smell of the chicken starting to burn made Law pull away.

"You made me forget about the food," Law sighed and turned to the stove.

"Save the food!" Luffy leaned over the counter, with his head over the pan.

"You're in the way," Law muttered. Luffy moved as Law flipped the chicken, it was a little scorched but otherwise fine.

"YAY!" Luffy cheered. "You saved it!" Luffy hugged Law, wrapping his arms around Law's neck. "I love you! You're the best!" Luffy kissed Law's cheek.

"Love you too," Law murmured.

#LawLuWeek2020 #10 days of lawlu #one piece #trafalgar law #monkey d luffy #fanfic

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Changes - part nine Word count: ±4350 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part nine: Dean finds an unexpected guest in the bridal suite. Warnings: Smut, NSFW, 18+ only! To prevent spoilers, all spoilers for the entire story are listed in the masterlists. Music: One Of These Nights - The Eagles (opening scene), Skin On Skin - Queens Of The Stone Age. Author’s note: I couldn’t be more excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series with you. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer, @soupornatural & @mrswhozeewhatsis, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish, @winchest09 & @kittenofdoomage who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

With a grunt muffled by his pillow, Dean wakes up. He keeps his eyes closed, enjoying the blissful slumber for a moment. A familiar song echoes through the room; he recognizes the peculiar intro after a few beats, identifying it as an Eagles song. He sighs and smiles, relieved. He’s relaxed, well rested and pain free; thank God for vicodin. Strangely, though, he didn’t remember the radio playing when he fell asleep. Then he notices the sound of the shower running. It’s only now, when Dean opens his eyes, rubs his face and looks over his shoulder. While licking his lips, he stares at the purple clock on the wall; it’s almost 7 PM.

“Aren’t you a bit late for your play date?” he comments, loud enough for Sam to hear him, as he slides off the bed. Still a bit sleepy he pads over to the bathroom entrance, barefoot. As he does, Dean glances at the table, where he remembers Sam dumped most of his stuff. His laptop is set up, buzzing like it’s sawing down an entire forest. Next to the table he notices a half emptied duffel bag. Only his own old leather jacket hangs from the coat hanger; Sam’s is missing. The alarm bells start ringing in his head by the time he notices that his car keys aren’t on the little cabinet next to the bed where he left them; his brother isn’t here. But if he isn’t, who is?

In three large strides he is next to the bed and grabs his gun from under the pillow, then sneaks up to the bathroom again as he flips the safety switch off. Although he was fast asleep a minute ago, he’s wide awake now. Adrenaline rushes through his veins when he enters the bathroom, his weapon ready to fire between both hands. Instead of some supernatural creature, which he was prepared for, he stumbles on Zoë, wearing nothing but a bathrobe. “No, I’m right on time,” she answers, grinning. “Zoë?! For fuck's sake!” Dean lowers his gun and breathes out. “What are you doing here?” She turns to him and crosses her arms in front of her chest with the usual attitude. “Let's start over: ‘Hi, Zo, nice to see you!’” “Well, if I said that, I’d be lying,” Dean responds, not amused by her unexpected visit. “Oh, come on. You’re not still cranky, are you?” she chuckles. He walks out, pushing his gun under his pillow again. It’s just now that he notices the music is coming from Zoë’s Macbook, which she has installed near the window, the curtains hiding the device from plain sight. “I am still mad, as a matter of fact. So for the second time; what are you doing here?” he asks again, grumpily. “There was a fuss at the motel, I got into a fight with the shifter. Broke some stuff, police on their way. Yada yada. You know how it is,” she explains carelessly. “The shifter?” Now she has Dean’s full attention. “You got into a fight with the shifter?” “Yeah. The bastard followed me from the bar to the motel. Don’t ask, long story,” she says, apparently not finding it worth the elaboration.

Dean follows her with his eyes. “So he was at Beetle's.” “Yep, as Terry Cliffer. He almost had me fooled,” she admits with a chuckle. “But you got him, right?” Dean gets his confirmation, her raised eyebrow and a tilt of the head saying enough. “Who do you think I am?” she scoffs, insulted.

Dean takes a look at the huntress, eying her from top to bottom before a grin twitches at the corner of his mouth. He might still be cross with her, but having her standing in his hotel room in nothing more than a bathrobe, does raise a few dirty thoughts. Dean has to admit; she looks hot as hell. He wouldn’t mind having a peek at what’s under that robe, guessing that she’s not wearing anything else, since she just took a shower. Her hair is darkened by the water, droplets seeking a trail down her collarbone and into her cleavage. Although she washed off her makeup, she still has these warm, penetrating eyes, somewhere between hazel and chocolate. Her skin is smooth and a natural blush fires her cheeks. Zoë is one of those girls who doesn’t need to highlight her strong features with all that shit woman put on their faces to look pretty. “Do you really want me to answer that?” Dean counters sly.

“Oh, never mind.” She rolls her eyes and strolls to the window, glancing outside into the night. “I got him, but no thanks to your brother.” Dean's expression goes blank. Oops, Zoë might have a reason to be pissed off with them once again. “He fucked up?” he assumes. “Just a little,” she scoffs, raising her hand and putting her forefinger to her thumb, only leaving a small space between her fingertips. “He chased the shapeshifter and apparently had an encounter with him in his hideout. That didn’t go so well for your dear brother and he got locked up with the others. By the time I got there, the damn chameleon had already shed. So guess who I was facing?” Dean raises his eyebrows; Sam of course. Worry washes over him. “Is my brother okay?” he asks demanding. “He’s fine,” Zoë snaps. “Thanks for asking how I am, by the way. I was the one who got attacked from behind by a shapeshifter slash Sasquatch.” The huntress closes the curtains further, not wanting this to turn into a peepshow for people passing by. “Where is Sam now?” Dean questions, his nerves calmed a little, but still not totally at ease. “He volunteered to cover tracks. He mentioned something about you having a girl over for the night,” she recalls.

Again Dean freezes. Shit! Vicodin girl. He almost forgot about her. She’ll probably show up in two and a half hours or so. His gaze shifts to the scarcely covered woman in the room again. It would be the night of the century, two hot chicks in one evening. In a fucking bridal suite. Maybe Sam didn’t pick such a bad place afterall. He looks over, capturing the huntress with his emerald greens. He can't help it, but he knows his eyes are sparkling. “Looks like he was right.” She grins at that remark, amused by his attempt to woo her. Going along with it, she walks towards him, slowly and elegantly. “You would love to see that happen, wouldn’t you?” she teases.

Dean takes a shuddering breath, stunned to witness this seductful side of Zoë he hasn’t quite seen before. The song in the background fades to Skin On Skin by Queens of the Stone Age as the gorgeous woman approaches. He has to admit that he fantasized about her once or twice today, because - come on - just look at her. But with their rivalry, he never thought it would happen. Fuck, please let me be wrong about that one, he thinks to himself.

With lust in her eyes, she takes the collar of his flannel between her fingers and reels him in. When she moves closer, her mouth hovering over his, he reluctantly creates a distance. He expected a lot from Zoë, but this can’t really be happening, right? Was she playing hard to get all this time? He could've sworn Zoë wasn't into him at all; all they do is fight. She pouts. “Oh, don’t get awkward with me. You want to.” “Y’know, I normally don’t do this until the second date,” he says, referring to their talk this morning, when she patched him up. “The second date? I don’t think you’ve ever known a girl this long before you headed for your home run,” she counters.

Dean tilts his head slightly and nods, admittingly; she’s got a point there. Her arms cross behind his neck and she looks deep into his eyes when he returns her glance, challenging him. Her tongue peeks past her teeth, only just, but Dean notices, his focus flicking down to her lips. “Well then,” she responds. “What are you waiting for? You like to have fun, don’t you?” He stares back and can’t help his jaw from going slack. Automatically he reaches for her waist, fingertips softly pressing into her flesh. He seems to be looking in the eyes of Medusa, unable to move. She inches closer, pressing her hips into his, her pelvis rolling against the growing bulge in his jeans. Her grip around his neck tightens; he has nowhere to go if he wanted to. Their noses touch, he can feel her warm breath on his skin. “Dean?” “What?” he husks. She tilts her head and moves her mouth close to his ear, ready to share a little secret. “I am fun.”

Okay, that’s it. There’s no possible way that any straight guy in the universe could resist Zoë Sullivan, not to mention Dean Winchester. He gives in and meets her half way in a bruising kiss. Without any hesitation whatsoever, she opens her mouth to him immediately, swiping her tongue along his so unbelievably intense, that it catches him by surprise. His heart rate picks up as she grinds her body against his, her nails running through his hair, scratching his scalp to the point that it hurts, but in the best kind of way. He lets his hands explore her figure, feeling her shiver under his touch, even through the fleece fabric of her robe.

Leaving no time to waste, Zoë moves her hands down his toned chest, then lower, until she cups his erection through his jeans. The normally so fierce hunter, who always stands his ground no matter how challenging the fight or how crippling the pain, almost caves then and there. He breaks the kiss when oxygen becomes scarce, pressing her forehead against hers. Their noses touch, but she doesn’t kiss the hunter again. He can feel her grin against him, though, when she softly kneads his hardening dick through the fabric of his pants, breathing in his air when he groans. Dean sigh heavily; Jesus fucking Christ.

Despite the undivided attention she offers, he manages to undo the knot in the sash, opens her bathrobe slightly and slips his left hand between the fleece material and her skin. She feels warm, still heated from the shower, or is it something else? He travels down her body further, tracing the lines of her silhouette, slowly descending towards her core. With his palm pressed against the softness of her abdomen, Dean allows his touch to travel lower. Zoë stiffens, pausing her actions when the hunter opposite of her ghosts over her inner thighs, riling her up. Hungrily she buries her face into the crook between his neck and his shoulder, muffling a moan when the hunter parts her folds with his thick fingers and press into her. Now it’s Dean who smirks, pleased with her reaction and the slick he feels between her legs; she’s so goddamn wet already.

He repeats the act, dipping into her soaked center, gathering her juices before rubbing a small circle over her clit, finding the sensitive nub with ease. Zoë jerks, her grip on him tightening, a sound between a whimper and cry escaping her mouth. Dean can’t possibly imagine it, but judging from her response it seems like she hasn’t had sex in a while. She’s so eager, so willingly allowing him to please her; quite the opposite to the attitude he got from her so far.

The hunter pulls in a sharp intake of air when, despite approaching her own high, Zoë unbuckles his belt, flicks open the button of his jeans and runs down the zipper enough to have some space to work. She slips into his boxers, wraps her fingers around his hardened shaft and slowly starts to jerk him off. Dean tilts his head back and closes his eyes, grunting, a fiery sensation spreading to his limbs and rolling back to gather in his coil. Pre cum drips into her hand, smoothening the friction of the pumping motion. He collects himself, his jaw setting when she takes advantage of his exposed throat, sucking on his skin that without doubt will leave a mark. Fuck, the things he would do to have that sinful mouth somewhere else right now.

Trying to distract himself and prevent his climax from arriving embarrassingly fast, he pushes two fingers into her heat, the feel of the soft velvet of her walls delightful. His thumb flicks over her clit again while he curls his digits, letting them glide in and out in a steady rhythm. It’s obvious it has an effect on her, her sighs labored. The steady tempo in which she was pumping his erection until a moment ago, begins to falter. He feels her buckling forward and supports her, ignoring his injured shoulder, the dull pain suppressed by painkillers. The hunter pulls her closer to his chest and kisses her again, his arm snaking under the bathrobe she’s still wearing, his hand splayed between her shoulder blades.

Standing in the middle of the room while working each other over proves to be more difficult by the second, as he too feels his legs tingling and close to giving out, but it adds to the accelerating moment as well. For a second he considers taking her to that waterbed bed and fuck her into the waves until she comes, but he decides against it. He’s going to save it for later, because Zoë might think he’s a cocky bastard, he is determined to show her his arrogance when it comes to his skills in the bedroom are more than justified.

Her breathing picks up, the exhales more audible whenever her mouth leaves his, turning into sultry moans now that she’s nearing her peak. Unable to multitask at this point, her grip on his rock hard dick loosens further. Thankfully, because he was about to blow, and he’s nowhere near done with the voluptuous huntress. She clenches around him, her nails digging into his back now. He watches her as her mouth hangs slack, her lips red and full with arousal. The sounds she makes will without doubt travel beyond the walls of the suite, but she doesn’t seem to care; Zoë is anything but a prude.

Dean continues to rub the pad of his thumb in ovals, while pushing his fingers as deep as he can, three of them at this point. She begins to tremble, her eyes shut tight, her brows pulled together. “That’s it,” he husks. “Does that feel good?” “G-god, yes,” she manages to utter. “Dean, please… m-make me come.” He stares at the face, which is contorted with pleasure. Holy fucking shit, she just begged him. Zoë Sullivan just begged for an orgasm. Who would have thought he’d ever hear a plea like that fall from her lips. Dean doesn’t have to be told twice; he turns up both pressure and speed by a nodge. She stops breathing all together, her muscles so tight that they spasm. The build up is almost too much for her too handle, her painfully blissful grip and her quaking body telling him she’s almost there.

Right as Dean wonders how much longer she’s going to last without air, Zoë cries out, coming undone on his fingers. With a content smile on his lips he works her through it, her dripping walls pulsing as he slowly and gently moves out and back into her, while he supports her crumbling form. Watching a woman climax has always been one of his favorite aspects about sex, but witnessing the tough as nails huntress completely spent by his doing, has got to be the sexiest view he’s ever seen. “You alright?” he chuckles, low and gruff. She nods, regaining composure. Dean retrieves his digits from her and is stunned when she takes his hand and brings it up to suck his fingers into her mouth, her tongue collecting her own juices. He wets his lips, too, his dick responding to the sensual sight. Jesus, just when he thought she couldn’t get any hotter. Zoë lets go of him then, pushing him off, teasingly. He looks up from her lips on which the slick shimmers, into her hypnotizing eyes. She grins devilish as she speaks the words he hoped to hear. “Now it’s your turn.”

Without breaking the contact, she lets the bathrobe slide from her shoulders, watching confidently how Dean takes her in. It doesn’t happen often, but he’s lost for words. Before him stands a woman who could be on the cover of even the most exclusive skin mag. He felt her body under his touch and knew she was gorgeous, but to actually see her completely naked, shows that ‘gorgeous’ doesn’t quite cut it. Her beautiful hourglass-shaped waist, proportioned breasts, not too big for her frame, but small and perky. Slender yet muscular, clearly trained and prepared to take on evil. Shit, she’s the American wet dream.

When he looks closer, he notices the stories her body has to tell. Tattoos decorate her rib cage, her groin and the inside of her biceps, but right now Dean is too distracted to philosophize about the meaning of the ink. Scars inflicted by the things that she hunts damaged her tanned skin, but don’t take away her beauty. In fact, it adds to it, because before him stands a kick ass woman, a powerhouse.

Zoë grins when she witnesses the adoration in Dean's expression, walks up to him and kisses him eagerly. The fire in the pit of his stomach turns into a blaze again, his respiration soon quickening. Not having much clothing to pull off her body, he helps her unbutton his flannel without breaking their kiss. When she rips off the shirt, he can hear the stitching crack, but he doesn’t give a damn. His hands trace the lines of her figure, brushing past what seems to be a burn on her shoulder. When he touches it, she winces slightly. “Where you get that?” he wonders, a hint of worry in his voice. She shrugs. “Shifter tried to shoot me again. It’s fine, the bullet barely grazed me.” Dean, not so careless, lets his eyes linger on the damaged skin, before he reaches for her face and caresses her jaw softly. “I’m fine,” Zoë promises, smiling at the concern in his eyes.

The huntress closes the gap between them and presses her lips on his again, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind. She folds her arms around his neck and he lifts her up, the strain of his shoulder reminding him of his own injury. She giggles lasciviously and hooks her long legs around his waist, as he walks over to the waterbed and drops her on it a moment later. He hovers over her and kisses her pulsepoint, the moan that escapes her total blasphemy. “It’s your turn, remember,” she purrs. Impatient, the huntress attempts to shove his jeans down, tracing the hem of his boxers, but he stops her. “Who says I was done with you?” Dean teases, leaving a trail of kisses from her breasts to her stomach, before he retreats. Zoë pouts. “Don’t pull back now.” “I have a little something to make this even more interesting,” he says with that up-to-no-good smirk on his face, his eyebrow arched.

He slides off the bed and walks to the table, where he unravels the gift basket he received downstairs. Smirking he turns around and shows off the handcuffs, twirling them around his finger. “You have a dirty mind, boy,” she says pleased, liking where this is going. He crawls back on the bed, which waves like a light swell at sea, and while he leans over her, he gently grabs her wrists and cuffs them behind the steel bars of the bed. Then he sits up and looks at her naked form. “No, I just have a very bright mind,” he corrects. “Whatever you want, Dean. I’m all yours tonight.” She pulls at her bottom lip with her teeth, spreading her legs and leaving nothing to the imagination. “You sure are.”

He leans in again, but instead of kissing her, he takes the gun from under his pillow. Startled Zoë tries to sit up in her restraints, unpleasantly surprised by the sudden change of character. “What the fuck are you doing?” she asks, concerned. Dean gets off the bed and casually leaves his gun on the table, buttoning his jeans again and fastening his belt. He then proceeds to walk to his duffel bag, from which he takes a silencer. Slowly, he strolls towards the bed again as he screws it on. “I’m hunting,” he answers, as a matter of factly. “What are you talking about? It’s me, God damn it!” She tries to convince him, a hint of panic in her voice. “Yeah, about that. Zoë, right? I have to say, good impression.” He admits. “You almost had me. It wasn’t until you got out of that robe when I noticed you missed a tiny little detail.” They stare each other in the eye, him confident, her nervous, waiting for the other to say something. When the silence remains, Dean takes the lead. “You shot her, you son of a bitch,” he brings to mind, anger thick in his voice.

It’s just now that the person - or rather, the creature - in bed realizes what is going on. Stammering, she looks at Dean. The injury Zoë was left with after last night’s events is nowhere to be seen. Yet a bullet, probably coming from either her or Sam’s gun, has grazed its shoulder. “Ah, you forgot about that, didn’t you?” He chuckles triumphantly, aiming the gun. “No! Wait, Dean! I can explain--” “- I bet you can.”

A dim shot followed by complete silence, ending the life of the shifter once and for all. Dean breathes out and stares at the entry wound in its chest, where he sent the bullet right through the heart. He swallows thickly, because the resemblance with Zoë is uncanny. He twists the muffler from his gun and tugs the weapon behind his belt, quickly picking up his shirt from the floor. After pulling it over his head, he checks his phone. The list of calls shows none unanswered; Sam didn’t call. He grunts, realizing that his little brother is probably in trouble, and Zoë, too. He has to find them, for all he knows they could be dead. Fuck! This case wasn’t even supposed to be our case!

Pondering, he rubs his face, worried about his little brother. He has to keep it together; now is not the time to lose his cool. Think, Dean. He looks around, his gaze lingering once it captures Sam’s computer. The hunter stalks towards the laptop, moving his fingertip over the mousepad to activate the screen. 'Completed', it says. “Completed what?” Dean wonders out loud, frustrated. Goddamnit! Why did he get caught up in his anger? He should have tried to get that bastard to give up the location of his hideout. Now he has nothing!

Dean scans the screen, noticing a pop up asking if he wants to open the downloaded file. He double clicks ‘Yes’. A PDF file opens and a blueprint of the entire area fills the screen. He reads the title; it’s a map of the city’s sewer system. Sam apparently was trying to find out from which house or drainage the shapeshifter was working. He remembers his brother saying his hideout must be somewhere on 110th Ave NW, but that’s a damn long street. He sighs angrily; how the hell is he gonna find them?

Then he spots something unusual. A red sewer line follows the street, running from the main sewer all the way up to a house, far from the main road. When he reads the marginal note, he learns that the particular sewer line was put in the ground this year. Suspicious? Could be, most houses so far off the main roads have their own tanks. And wait a minute, isn't this the same place they checked out last night? He was quite sure it was clean, apparently they missed something. It’s not much, but it is the only lead he has right now. He closes the laptop, grabs his leather coat and rushes to the cabinet to grab his keys... “Fuck!” he roars.

How could he forget? Sam has the keys. Sam has the fucking car! He runs his fingers through his hair and curses again. He has to steal another vehicle, he’s got no other option. Then his eyes capture the shifter, lying naked and dead on the bed, blood leaking from the chest wound. Let’s rephrase that question; how did that filthy lizard get here? In three strides Dean is at the window and shoves the curtains aside. Relieved, he breathes out. The hunter wouldn’t have thought so last night, but he’s damn glad to see that shiny black Harley Davidson, with the keys still in the ignition, waiting for him underneath the window.

Dean opens the lid and climbs out, not wanting to be seen by staff in the lobby. Skillfully the hunter descents down the old fire escape and lands on the ground with both feet, bending his knees to cushion the landing. The Harley is a sight for sore eyes, especially now that it’s his only available form of transportation. He starts the engine, the headlight spreading a bright light ahead. The bike is heavy, it surprises him how Zoë is able to handle the cruiser so easily. One thing is certain, he realizes, as he gasses up and leaves the parking lot; he better not fuck up this bike. Because Zoë will either kill him or haunt him, depending if she’s still alive or not.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

Read part ten here

The Sullivan Series tags: @a-gir1-has-n0-name @destielhoneybee @fookinghelljensensthighs @idksupernatural @laphirablack @magssteenkamp

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