#“take my car” like dude it's a thirty second walk across the parking lot

[jonathanrook]

#i was watching hallmark's “a mystic christmas” w my parents earlier for shits and giggles #bc it's only like a town over from where we live #and nothing made sense like. spatially. #like at one point this kid is walking to school and apparently she had to go through a shopping mall to get there?? #and later the main character is at said mall and needed to go to the aquarium and her love interest is like #“take my car” like dude it's a thirty second walk across the parking lot #it'll take longer to find a parking spot this time of day #BUT ANYWAY the thing took place at the aquarium and it reminded me #of this^ argument i got in w my friend the other day #rachel rants

[harryimaginedstories]

on your side

genre: au (while I don’t like the term ‘au-fic’ at all imagine the two characters are in college together and in their early twenties.) angst and some fluff as well.

about 5k words

it’s entirely different than anything I have ever published and I really love it. please let me know what you think and stay safe during these wild and often scary times. 

read more here: my stories

photo: taken from instagram, previously taken by somebody from the movie AWC, which also inspired me (kinda) to even write this.

They started arguing pretty much the second the car door fell shut behind them and even ten traffic lights, countless of turns and getting honked at twice, didn’t stop their heated exchange of words. Harry’s hands held on to the seat tightly, an attempt not to touch her thigh like he normally would, while hers curled around the steering wheel until the white of her knuckles showed. It wasn’t uncommon for them to fight. They had never been one of those couples who didn’t call each other out on their bullshit or who tried hide anger when there was reason to feel it. However, this was the first time that they weren’t on their way home, where their argument could be settled in private. Instead, Harry and Y/N, both infuriated with each other, were on their way to a party. With one generous rotation of the wheel, Y/N parked Harry’s black car in the last free niche on the street of the frat house. The vehicle gave an unpleasant sound and Harry closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. Before he got the chance to complain, Y/N swung open the door, stepped out and threw it shut hard enough to know it would set him off. 

“Jesus fuck!” Harry shouted, opening the passenger door and stepping out, too. 

She waited long enough to press ‘lock’ on the keys once he was out, then she walked away. With quick strides he caught up with her, and had he not been as angry as could be he would have probably felt hurt at her for not waiting up like she would have any other day.  Walking next to her he turned to look at her profile, trying to catch her eyes, but she refused. 

“Would you mind not taking your crazy out on my fucking car?”

“Oh, so you do care about that then. Good to know,” she snapped back. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N halted and so did he. They were standing on the pavement, one house away from where there could already be heard the dull sound of music blaring and a good meter of distance between them.  Any other night they would be standing there, too. Only not to deliver a few more blows before pretending to be alright while their friends were around. On any other night, Harry would have taken advantage of the warm weather, by letting his hands roam across Y/N’s bare arms. She would have given him a kiss or two and made him a laugh at least as much. He would have reminded her for the fifth time (at least) that she looked beautiful. There wouldn’t be any distance between them, let alone one entire meter.

“There is one thing I’ve been hearing clearly through all of the bullshit you’ve said today,” Y/N hissed, her lips barely moving and her hands curling into tight fists by her side, “which is that you don’t give a fuck about me.”

“Oh my god.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his head falling back before snapping forward quickly, “You’re being such a lunatic!”

Wind picked up some of her hair and pushed the loose strands into her eyes, breaking the angry stare she’d held with him and for a moment, Harry could have sworn she appeared to be younger. Then she brushed the hair off with shaky hands and back she was, angry and exhausted. 

“You’re a dick!” Y/N squealed, 

“Well, clearly we could go on,” he snapped and rolled his eyes, “but our fucking friends are waiting for us so do you think you can manage to avoid me for the next few hours so we can at least settle this at home?” 

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her cleavage which he had tried not to stare ever since she’d put on the blue dress. That damn dress. Focusing on it now it only irked him further. She knew how much he loved it when she wore this particular piece of clothing. It had spent the night on the floor of his bedroom or over the back of a chair often enough. He was certain she’d put it on specifically to spite him. 

“Fine, let’s go. But since you’re unhappy with my parking,” Y/N stepped forward and reached up, pressing the hard metal of Harry’s car keys into his chest, “you get to be the designated driver tonight.” 

Her fist lingered on the fabric of his black T-shirt. Feeling her touch him momentarily paused his thoughts. All anger was forgotten, as if the wind had picked it up, too, and carried it far away. Harry whimpered and her lips parted, their eyes connecting without any trace of hurt in them. Then his hand found hers and she dropped the set of keys into his palm, snapping them both out of their brief moment of peace. 

“I don’t want to see you right now,” Y/N stuttered, blinking rapidly until her eyes turned darker again.

“Don’t come look for me later when you’re drunk and feeling sorry,” Harry replied, before he stepped around her and walked towards the frat building.

Y/N lost sight of him the second he stepped inside. Despite still feeling angry with him, she couldn’t stop herself from briefly wishing he wouldn’t have left her alone. She didn’t like being left alone at a party. Neither did he, for the matter, but she refused to feel guilty for sending him away. Y/N drew a shaky breath and stepped inside, instantly greeted by the smell of alcohol, smoke and pot. A big banner had been hung from one side of the hall to the other, wishing everybody a cheerful start to the new semester. Underneath mingled numerous students, all of which held drinks in their hands. Already Y/N recognized a few of them from some of her classes, she didn’t feel like talking to them however. To her luck she spotted a few friends of her in the first room she entered and was quickly greeted with hugs and kisses to her cheek. 

Dena, a girl Y/N had grown close with through sharing an equal distain for their econ teacher, pressed a drink into her hand and smiled. “You look like you need at least two of these.”

Y/N smiled sadly. “That obvious, huh?”

“Well, you didn’t cheer in delight upon seeing us like you should have so,” said Clara, another friend Y/N had made whilst talking badly about her teacher.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

Dena nudged her. “Also, your boyfriend stormed past us earlier so we expected something was up.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Clara asked.

Y/N shook her head and took a long sip from her drink. It tasted of a mixture of beer and vodka, which on any other day she would have refused to drink. “I really don’t.”

“Great. Then let’s just cheer to us.”

The two girls raised their own cups and waited expectantly for Y/N to do the same. Dena grinned at her and cleared her throat. 

“To us, the coming semester, which we will fucking ace. And-” she paused, looking at Y/N, “to knowing when to kick your boyfriend’s ass. Cheers!”

“Cheers.”

Harry stood by the unlit fire pit in the lounge area, where the chairs had been pushed aside to create a dance floor. A scowl was deeply etched onto his face and he had yet to smile genuinely. He blamed the alcohol he wasn’t allowed to consume for how poorly he was feeling, but he knew even if he had drowned his veins in liquor, it wouldn’t be until he’d feel her touch him that he would be in a better mood. He stood back watching with a few of his mates, who were all except one, very drunk, as some freshmen clumsily turned the dinner table into a bear pong station. Matt, the only sober one left, had tried to get him to talk about why his mood was so sour three times already, receiving no answer each time. Harry rolled his eyes upon feeling him nudge his shoulder again.

“Where’s your girl?”

Harry shrugged. “Don’t know.”

He’d been cursing her short height since turning around and looking for her in the crowded hallway thirty minutes ago. She’d slipped past him without him noticing, and while he was too proud to go look for her properly, it annoyed him that he wasn’t able to casually spot her whenever he scanned one of the many rooms that had been turned into a club. He especially didn’t like it since he knew that she was drinking. Blindly he felt for his phone in his pocket, ensuring for the tenth time that its volume was turned up. Should she call him, he wanted to be sure that he wouldn’t miss it.

“Didn’t she come with you?” Matt pressed on, either oblivious to Harry’s annoyance or simply indifferent to it.

“Doesn’t mean she can’t wander off on her own, does it?” Harry replied, his voice rough. 

He’d never really liked Matt. Actually, he’d liked him a lot once. They’d even considered becoming roommates in their second year. He’d liked him, up until he’d gotten together with Y/N and noticed the gleam in Matt’s eyes the first time he’d introduced her to him. Their friendship dissolved fast after.

“I’m sure she can. She’s always been good at enjoying parties, hasn’t she?”

Harry didn’t reply. Once more his eyes scanned the room frantically, detecting every single face in hopes of recognizing the eyes to the one he loved.

“Dude!” Eric, a tall and broad looking bloke who’d just become team captain to the football team, stumbled into Harry’s side, knocking him back. 

“Sorry! Shit,” Eric laughed, doubling over, revealing that he was clearly drunker than he should have been, “I’m sorry, mate. Wow, I need to lay off a little.”

“No kidding,” Harry replied, but smiled when Eric slung a heavy arm around his shoulders. The unmistakable smell of alcohol fanned over his face as Eric talked, and his nose scrunched up. 

“You’ve been wearing a look as depressing as Matt’s sex life-”

“Hey, fuck you, Eric!” Matt snapped, unamused.

“-and I intend to fix that. C’mon.”

Harry didn’t fight it as the taller guy dragged him away, out of the lounge and into another room further down the hall. He certainly didn’t mind getting away form Matt. Regardless of them having been friends once, Matt was the last person he wanted to be around when he was having a rough time with Y/N. The smoke was thicker in this room and the music a little quieter. There were less people dancing and more sitting around on the couches and chairs. A few stood by the wall in small groups and some, the ones Eric was walking towards, were standing opposite a dart board. They cheered upon seeing the two guys approach, making more noise than anybody else in the room.

“You’re on my team and you’re gonna help me win, yeah? M’taking advantage of you being sober as a stone. Your aim is probably better than any of theirs.”

Harry laughed and nodded, accepting to be involved. “I’ll try my best.”

The first dart arrow was thrust into his hand by a guy named Kyle who appeared to be on the same team. Half an hour later and Eric was grinning from ear to ear, writing their leading score numbers onto a makeshift writing board that was really just the coffee table. Something the guys living in this house would be happy to find in the morning.  Y/N watched him. Despite being intoxicated, or perhaps because of how intoxicated she was, she noticed every muscle of his back move each time he raised his arm. Her heart fluttered whenever he laughed and she felt a heat grow at the pit of her stomach whenever he leaned his head to the side, revealing the back of his neck to her. And above his neck was his ear, which hid a spot right under his hairline where he liked to be kissed. Y/N’s lips parted at the thought and her toes curled.  He hadn’t noticed her when entering the room. She didn’t blame him though, since she’d successfully hid herself behind Dena and Eric’s big body also worked wonderfully as a shield. Despite anything she’d said before the party, she was immensely relieved to see him. The vodka-beer mixture which she’d learned had been invented by Clara, was disgusting but also got her drunk faster than she had expected. Or intended. Another round of cheers erupted as Harry scored another point for his team. 

“Not fair. You won’t give them as much as a chance to win.” 

A chill rushed down Harry’s back at the sound of the honey sweet female voice behind him, and Y/N, too, froze in place. Slender fingers touched Harry’s arm, caressing the skin despite being less than welcome to. Upon turning around he was met with Silja, who’s face wore a smile equally sweet as her sly voice. Though standing by the opposite wall, Y/N swore she could hear Silja as if she were standing next to her. She would always be able to detect her voice, especially if the words she spoke were directed to Harry. 

Dena followed her friend’s gaze and raised her brows. “Haven’t seen her in a while. I thought she dropped out.”

“Would have been too nice,” Y/N growled. 

She’d never actually talked to Silja herself and she surely didn’t intend to. Before getting together with him, Y/N had been mostly oblivious to who was genuinely interested in him and who she imagining to be. Only with Silja there had never been any doubt. Even before Harry had become hers, she’d felt a bitter taste collect in the middle of her tongue whenever the pretty brunette girl tried to talk to him. Once her claim on him had become justified, she disliked Silja and her upfront behaviour all the more.

“Hey, you know you don’t have to worry about her, right?” Dena said quietly, reading Y/N’s expression, “Harry has rejected her what, three times already? Even before he was with you. He’s not interested in her.”

“I know. I’m not worried about that,” Y/N said quickly, stepping around Dena to get a better look at her boyfriend and the girl that had yet to remove her hand from his arm, “I trust him.”

“Doesn’t make her less of a bitch,” Clara grumbled, also staring at them intently. 

The three girls watched Harry turn to look at Silja. He gave her a tight lip smile before he stepped away to make room for the next player, conveniently shrugging off her hand in process. To their dismay, Silja followed him.

“I haven’t seen you this summer,” she complained in an uncomfortably high voice, that was laced with feigned displeasure, “Where were you hiding?” 

Harry sighed, wishing Y/N would find him already, and rested his back against the wall. The last thing he needed for this party to become worse were the advances of the woman standing before him. “I wasn’t.”

Their summer had been great. They spent it looking for a flat to move into together. One weekend they’d taken the train out to the ocean and spent two days in a pretty bed and breakfast, where nothing distracted them from each other and everything, even their sheets, held the faint smell of sea salt. He wasn’t about to tell any of that to Silja though. 

The girl pouted, smudging her lilac lipstick at the corners. “Didn’t you miss me at all? Not even a little bit?” 

“No.”

She smiled. Her neck moved to the side as her eyes mustering him. “You and your attitude. I really missed that.”

Harry let his head fall back and for a moment Y/N forgot to eye the girl hitting on her boyfriend and instead stared at his throat. She longed to kiss him there, too. The darkened expression taking over his relaxed face quickly brought her attention back. Thinking about kissing him had made her miss the words Silja had said to upset him. 

“You’re wasting your time missing me.”

At last, Silja’s smile dropped. “You’re still with her, then?”

“Yep,” he replied shortly. 

 “Fine,” Silja pushed the long brown locks off her shoulder and crossed her arms, “maybe if she fucked you right you wouldn’t be such an asshole all the time.” 

“Fuck off, Silja,” Harry snapped, pushing himself off the wall to instantly tower over her.

“Harry! Your turn again, mate.”

Without giving her as much as a second look, Harry turned away and followed Eric’s call. Dena’s hand rested on Y/N’s shoulder, squeezing her gently whilst smiling at her. Y/N exhaled loudly and relaxed. She didn’t doubt Harry’s capability of getting rid of Silja. She’d also truly meant it when she’d said that she trusted him. But after their argument she wasn’t so sure that he didn’t want to receive some affection tonight, be it from anybody. While she would have hated it, simply entertaining Silja’s flirting wouldn’t have been cheating. A warm feeling overtook any worry left in her body upon watching him turn Silja away. He didn’t bother look at her again but walked back to his friends to resume the game, treating her like she wasn’t even there. He didn’t even give Silja the satisfaction of remaining angered by her words. Giving up her attempts, Silja walked away and left the room quickly, her cheeks slightly rosy in embarrassment. 

“Remind me to kiss him later for that,” Y/N said, her voice holding more love for him than she would usually let on whilst angry. 

Clara laughed. “So you’re not mad at him anymore.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me that I was or I might still be.”

“What were you two fighting about anyway?” Dena asked. 

Y/N took another long sip from her drink, before remembering that she’d wanted to not drink any more for the night. Oh well. 

“He didn’t come home last night. Without notifying me. He fell asleep at stupid Rick’s place and neither of them bothered shooting me a text or ringing me about it. I spent all night worried sick.”

Y/N’s expression hardened at the thought of waiting up for him. She’d paced around the living room of their new flat before settling on the couch, vowing to stay awake until he returned. She’d had half a mind not to call his mother or sister, not quite worried enough to ask them. 

“I didn’t see him until an hour before coming here ‘cause I had to work today. So we didn’t have time to properly fight about it.”

“Didn’t he say he was sorry?”

“Sure he did, as well as stating that I was overreacting and not his mother.”

“Ugh, men,” Dena grumbled, then she changed the subject, “Let’s get refills in the kitchen!”

Harry got bored of the game after the fifth round, but stayed to play until the team he’d joined won by a margin. Then he politely excused himself from playing another round. Though she’d told him she didn’t want to see him, Harry really wanted to see Y/N and he figured over an hour of distance sufficed for her to calm down. Maybe she would even allow herself to be happy about him finding her. He strolled around the room, then went looking in the hall and finally searched the lounge. If only she were a little taller, he thought once more. All of sudden he heard a loud shout. It wasn’t one of the usual party hollers, it was one that held no joy at all. With swift strides Harry crossed the room, turned left in the hallway and entered the kitchen. This time he didn’t have to search to see her. Y/N was sitting on the counter, her legs dangling down and her hands curling around the stone surface. Across from her was the kitchen table on which all of the different liquor bottles had been placed. It was also where the single shout turned into several. A guy Harry hadn’t ever seen around campus before stood next to a broken bottle of vodka. His hand curled into a fist and his face was red. Opposite him stood Dena, a girl Harry barely knew beyond her being a friend of Y/N. Next to Dena was a guy named Dylan, his face painted with guilt and worry. 

“You fucking broke my shit!” the stranger shouted. 

Y/N flinched. It wasn’t Dena who’d pissed off the wrong guy, but Dylan who had tried to make a drink for them. She didn’t feel any less involved if the guy were to be shouting at her. The second the bottle had broken and the tall stranger exclaimed that it’d been his, Y/N had felt fear curse through her. She hated it. She hated how a man shouting was so scary that she froze in place.  Just like she always did when afraid, her eyes began to search for Harry. Heavy like a wave and equally overwhelming was the relief when she saw him lingering in the doorway.  Their eyes met. Y/N visibly relaxed. She could read the question in the look he was giving her and she eagerly nodded. There were so few people scattered around the small place, Harry had no trouble reaching the counter.  Once in arms reach she held out her right hand, whimpering when his fingers slotted through hers and holding on tight. Any anger towards each other was forgotten the moment their skin touched. Y/N gave a determined pull until he stood next to where she was sitting, her legs touching his waist. Harry didn’t say anything, but he allowed her to let go of his hand to instead hold on to his shoulder. His own settled heavily on her thigh, relishing the feeling of her bare skin. He didn’t complain when her fingers curled tightly around the fabric of his shirt, nor did she mind how intimate it felt to have his hand on her naked thigh. His eyes quickly scanned her face, waiting for her nod, confirming that she was alright. Y/N smiled gently, relief mirroring in her eyes. Harry returned her smile. His heart clenching when he noticed the faint veil of alcohol before her eyes. Ever so slightly, their heads leaned towards each other, then his nose softly touched her forehead.

“He didn’t do it on purpose,” Dena said defensively, “and these bottles are for everybody to use.”

Harry shifted closer to Y/N but removed his nose form her hairline. Unwillingly he turned his attention back to where the argument grew. The stranger’s head, figuratively doubling in size by the minute, was red and looming over Dena like a balloon hovering in the sky. He had to admit it was impressive that Dena, equally short as Y/N, refused to back off.

“I wasn’t asking you! You and your friend better figure out how to replace my drink and you better do it fast!”

“Mate, lay off a bit, will ya? They didn’t do anything on purpose,” Harry interrupted, his voice calm and steady, “Why don’t you just grab one of the ten other bottles and leave ‘em alone?” 

The stranger, slightly shorter than Harry, turned to look at them. Y/N tightened her hold on his shoulder. She was mentally preparing herself to jump off the counter and at the stranger’s throat instead, should he as much as try to pick a fight with Harry. Noticing her shift beside him, Harry’s hold on her intensified.

“Leave them alone?” the tall guy snapped, “that was twenty fucking quid he broke!” 

“Bit embarrassing that you’re whining about twenty quid,” Harry said, wearing a smug grin, “and picking a fight like some kind of neanderthals who found out somebody’s pissed into his cave.” 

Dena giggled and so did Y/N, along with some bystanders who’d gathered to watch. The bloke narrowed his eyes, first at Harry, then at the girl sitting beside him. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N interrupted him. “Quit looking at me and spare me any sexist bullshit you’re about to say.” 

The guy rolled his eyes, then smiled. “You’re pretty for a bitch.”

Y/N’s hand yanked Harry back by his shoulder equally fast as he’d pushed off the counter to lunge forward and at the guy. The movement caused him to knock against the counter uncomfortably. She didn’t let go and didn’t move, despite Harry’s enraged breathing getting louder.  

“Fuck you!” Harry shouted, eyes wide. 

Anger oozed out of his pores and heat settled in the small kitchen. Calm and collected only a moment ago, he was all the more scarier now that he was enraged. Scary enough to make the stranger take back a step. Y/N loosened her hold on Harry’s shoulder, sliding her hand down to press against his back instead. She rubbed his spine gently, hoping to ease him by letting him know she was okay. 

"You need to leave,” Y/N stated, her voice calm.

“Definitely,” Dena agreed, her eyes trained on her friend before finding Harry.

He didn’t return her gaze, his eyes remained on the tall blonde. They stayed put until the guy lowered his empty cup to the table, the movement slow and deliberate. He clearly didn’t want it to look like he was leaving because he was told to, so he took his time. But finally he turned away, before at last leaving the kitchen and hopefully the party all together. 

Harry shuddered upon feeling Y/N’s nose against the shell of his ear. “I’m fine, Harry.”

“What a wanker.”

“A fucking wanker,” Y/N replied, her smile practically audible in her voice. 

Harry turned around to face her, all of his attention returning to where it belonged: her. His eyes looked into hers intently, reading every answer to all of his unspoken questions.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. Are you?”

He nodded. “Did he try anything before I came?”

“I noticed him about zero-point-five seconds before you arrived, Harry. I’m fine, I promise.”

Her hands gently took hold of his face. The fingers of her left hand traced along his jawline as tenderly as one would the rim of a glass in hopes of eliciting a sound. That’s how Harry sometimes felt when she touched him. Like she was being as tender as she could possibly fathom to be. 

“Does that mean you’re gonna go back to being mad at me?” As he spoke, Harry moved closer. His hands rested on each side of her hips, allowing his body to get closer to hers as he leaned forward.

Y/N laughed and shook her head, their faces so close they almost touched. She enjoyed the warmth of his breath fanning against her throat. 

“Are you? You were at least as pissed off as I was.”

He shrugged, then playfully nudged her nose with his. “No.”

“Then I think I’ll let it go, too,” she answered, faking to be coy, “For now, you still owe me an apology later.”

Harry laughed. “That’s fair. Promise to mean it this time, too.” 

Her eyes narrowed. She took hold of his chin, holding him still so she could kiss him without giving him the chance to deepen it. The feeling of his mouth slotting with hers, be it as briefly as it was, ignited her like nothing else could. Any remaining worry was pulled from the corners in her body where it had hidden, and was thrown out not to return. Harry took over. All of the space inside her that could belong to an emotion, now belonged to him.

“I knew you didn’t mean it earlier,” she breathed accusingly against his lips. 

“I meant it a little,” he said, curling his hand around her wrist to pull away the hold she’d taken and he kissed her a second time before she could complain. 

Despite their desperation their teeth didn’t clash together, nor did their noses unintentionally bump. They’d kissed too many times not to blindly meet each other without missing. His tongue glided along her bottom lip, hers pushed his aside so it could trespass into his mouth. Frantic hands held on to her hips and her thigh, eager fingers remembered to be gentle as they settled on the back of his neck. Harry moaned and Y/N pulled away.

“Thank you,” she whispered, just enough space between them so she could speak. 

Harry’s kisses trailed down from the corner of her mouth to her cheek and her jaw, his lips warm, wet and determined. He allowed one kiss to last a little longer, followed by a small lick to her earlobe.

As satisfied as could be as long as they weren’t alone, he raised his head to look at her again. “What for?”

“Being on my side even when we’re fighting.” 

The smile gracing her features was so genuine he could have melted, just like her words were spoken with more love behind them than he could detect. He smiled and willingly moved his head to the side, so she could kiss below his ear. The heat in his belly grew and he let her know by squeezing her hips.

“Ditto.”

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[thatdeaniegirlsworld]

Sexual Tension-Roman Reigns

It was supposed to be a casual night out with friends, until he showed up.

He catches your eyes from across the room, smirking at you as he cockily walked over to you. "Did that boyfriend of yours finally let you out for the night?" Roman asks you, and you roll your eyes.

"He's not my boyfriend." You tell him, and the bartender hands him a drink.

"Is that why he's staring?" He asks, and you turn your head to see that he was in fact, staring.

"He's just a friend." You tell Roman, who chuckles lightly. "What?"

"If that's what it takes to be friends with you, maybe you should upgrade." He says, and you roll your eyes at him again.

"Is that so?" You ask him, and he scoots closer to you.

"Don't tempt me, baby girl. You have no idea what I'm capable of." He tells you before venturing off.

"You two are something else." Carmella tells you when you walk back over to your table.

"He's an ass." You tell her, and she shakes her head at you. "What?"

"Oh come on, you can cut the sexual tension with a knife." She says as yall sit down at the table.

"Who has sexual tension?" Corey asks. "Roman, and Y/N?"

Carmella laughs, nodding her head. "Will you two stop? There's nothing there."

"Y/N, I love you sweetheart, but that tension is so fucking thick." Nia says, and you roll your eyes looking over at Roman who was looking at you.

"If she says there isn't any tension, then there isn't any. So stop pestering her." Baron says, and you roll your eyes again. He was so in love with you, it was insane.

"How about you all shut up about it, and we take some shots?" You ask, and they all start cheering.

***

The following week, Roman had somehow got your number and wouldn't stop texting you about the dumbest little things.

You were currently at a local coffee shop, working on your article when he walked in. He approaches your table, and sits down across from you. "Busy here, Reigns." You tell him, and look up.

"Oh come on, just five minutes?" He asks, and you sigh, setting down your pen. He smirks when he sees he has won momentarily. "So, how's your day?"

"Fine." You tell him, shrugging your shoulders.

"Just fine?" He asks, and you nod your head. "Anything I can do to make it better?"

"Very cliche, but no. I have a deadline, and really need to get this done." You say, breathing out in frustration.

"What is it you're working on?" He asks, walking around to slide into the booth next to you.

"Oh, it's nothing, really." You tell him, but he's already looking over the pages.

"Wow, this is really good." He says, sounding surprised. "Your writing style is unique."

"Really? You think so?" You ask him, and he turns to look at you, nodding his head. "Well, thanks."

"You really are just full of surprises, aren't you?" He asks, and you look into his eyes, shrugging your shoulders.

He places one hand on your right thigh, patting it before sliding it up, and down. When he notices that you don't move his hand, he leans in closer to you. "What else are you hiding?" He whispers, his lips inches from yours.

"Hey, there you are!" Baron yells, making Roman squeeze his eyes shut, and pull away from you. "Sorry, did I interrupt?"

Roman stares a hole through him before grabbing his keys, and saying nothing as he walks out of the coffee shop.

***

You were back at the club again, sitting at a table with your friends, looking to see if Roman would show. "Looking for Roman, huh?" Alexa asks you, and you laugh knowing you got caught.

"Uh, yeah actually." You tell her, and she goes to say something else when he walks in at that moment. He quickly scans the room before meeting your eyes, and he smirks at you.

"Go talk to him." Alexa says, and you shake your head. "Come on, what's the harm?"

"I'm actually going to use the bathroom, I'll be back." You tell her, and make your way there when Baron stops you as you're about to go in.

"Y/N. Listen, there's something I need to tell you. I've liked you for a while, and I wanted to see if you'd like to go out sometime?"

"I appreciate the gesture, but I'm just not looking for anything at the moment. You're a good friend." You tell him, and disappointment flashes over his face.

"It's Roman, isn't it? The dude doesn't know personal space, Y/N." He scoffs.

"First of all, it doesn't matter who I'm spending my time with. That is MY decision, and I will not have you or any man tell me what's best for me."

"Fine, be a dumb bitch then. Because once he fucks you, he'll never call you again. Especially with someone of your weight." He says, and your jaw drops.

"What the fuck did you just say to her?" Roman appears out of the dark room. Baron looks like he just shit himself. "Are you seriously that insecure that you're targeting her weight, which by the way, is not a problem, to try and win here?"

"Fuck off, Roman. Everyone knows how you are. You'll fuck her, then leave her crying for weeks because you don't show any affection towards her. She's stupid for even being affected by you."

"And now you want to name call?" Roman asks him, and grabs him by the collar. "You have exactly thirty seconds to get the fuck out of here before I do something I'll regret." He let's go of Baron, who walks off.

"Thank you. I didn't need you to do all of that, but thank you." You tell him, and he steps closer to you. "He's right though, I mean I could lose him few pounds."

"No, don't do that. Don't let him in that brilliant head or yours. He's just insecure. He was upset that you turned him down." He says, and takes your hand, pulling you into a private bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He sits you down on the counter, and you hand him some wipes from your purse to fix up your face. "You dont have to do all this, Roman. Go back to your boys." You tell him, and he throws the wipes away.

"If I didn't want to he here, I wouldn't be." He says, and steps closer to you. His thumb brushing over your cheek, and he leans in, brushing his nose against yours before closing the distance.

His lips were soft against yours, and you grab the back of his neck. He wraps your legs around his waist as he pulls you closer to him.

He pulls away, slowly, resting his forehead against yours. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." He says.

"Really?" You ask him, and he nods. "Then do it again." He looks at you before connecting your lips again. You tug at the roots of his hair, and he groans into your mouth before pulling away again.

"If I keep going then I won't he able to stop." He tells you, and you pull him closer to you.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" You ask him, and he stares at you.

"I'm not sure you're aware of what you're asking for, baby girl." He says with a chuckle.

"Please?" You ask him, and he pulls you from the counter.

"My place or yours?" He asks as you reach his car.

"Yours." You tell him, and he smirks before pulling out of the parking lot.

***

"Holy fuck your place is huge." You tell him as you pull in his driveway. He shakes his head at you before leading you inside.

"Follow me." He says as he makes his way upstairs, and into his bedroom, which is filled with books.

"Wow." You gasp, as you take a look around. "You have so many."

"Mhm." He says, his hands on your waist. "What's your favorite?"

"Book? I have a lot of favorite books." You tell him, and reach out to grab one.

"Tell me about one or your favorite books." He whispers before placing his lips on your neck. You stumble over words as you try to talk to him while his lips were all over your neck. His hand trails up your inner thigh before rubbing you over your lace panties.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, and he continues to tease you. "What do you want, baby girl?" He whispers in your ear.

"You. I need you to touch me, please." You bed, and his fingers move your panties to the side.

"You're so wet for me." He says as he finds your clit, rubbing it in circles. You gasp at the contact, and he bites down onto your neck. "Feel good baby?"

"So good." You tell him, and your knees start to grow weak as he held your body to his. He slides his fingers down to your hole, inserting two fingers inside. "Fuck."

"You're so tight." He groans, his thumb finding your clit again. "You're already squeezing my fingers. Need to cum already?"

"Please." You beg. "It's been so long."

"You want my tongue?" He asks, and you nod your head. "Words, baby."

"Yes." You tell him, and he removes his fingers from you, picking you up, and taking you to the bed.

He bunches your dress up, removing your panties before pressing his tongue to your clit. You moan loudly, and he slides his two fingers inside of you. "Fuck, Roman."

"That's it baby, scream my name." He says, and your back begins to arch.

"I'm not going to last long." You pant, and look down at him. The sight, knocking you over the edge as you grab onto his hair, and ride his tongue as you ride out your high. "Fuck."

He pulls you to stand, pulling your dress over your head, and he starts to unbutton his shirt, peeling it off his body. He had a massive tribal tattoo. "Samoan." He answers the question you were asking mentally.

You sit up on your knees, tracing over it, and you see his goosebumps rise from the effect. "I'd like to learn about it one day." You tell him, and he nods at you.

He throws his belt to the ground before pulling off his pants, and you look at the bulge in his pants. "Not going to run off now, are you?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Good."

He grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss, and you dip your hand into his boxers, grabbing his length. He pulls his boxers all the way down, and you begin to pump him. "You going to wrap those pretty lips around me, baby girl?" He asks you.

You lay down on your stomach while he was on his knees, and you lick up the base of his cock. You swirl your tongue around the head before taking him all the way in your mouth. He tenses, and grabs onto your hair as you begin to bob your head up, and down. "Fuckin perfect." He groans, and you moan onto his cock, making him grip your hair even tighter.

You reach down to cup his balls in your hand while you take him as far as you can get, choking on him. "Such a good girl." He groans, and you pull off for air. He grabs you by your chin, pulling you up so that he can kiss you again before pushing you back onto the mattress.

"Fuck, I think I'm out of condoms." He curses.

"It's okay, I'm on the pill." You tell him, and be nods before bending down to kiss you again.

"You want me to fill you up with my cum, don't you baby?" He asks, and you nod at him. He sits up, dragging his cock up, and down your folds before pushing in. You gasp at the size, and he pushes all the way in.

"Hoky fuck." You groan, and look at his biceps that were on either side of your head. Jesus.

"You are so fucking tight baby girl." He groans, bending down to kiss you again.

"Move, daddy." You tell him, and watch as his eyes flick to almost a solid black. You bite your lip when he pulls out, and slams into you.

"Oh no you don't. Let daddy hear you, baby." He says, pulling your lip from your teeth.

"Go faster then." You taunt him, and he raises his eyebrows at you. He sits back, grabbing your hips, pulling out, and slamming back into you over and over.

"This what you wanted? Hmm?" He asks, his thrusts picking up speed. "Daddy's little slut is just greedy, isn't she?"

You reach for his hand, wrapping it around your throat, and he realizes this, laughing. "Dirty fucking girl."

"You mad about it?" You ask him, and surprise him by pulling him toward you to flip the two of you over. You sink down onto him, and ride his cock.

"Fuck, who are you?" He gasps, his hand still wrapped around your throat. "That's it, ride daddy's cock baby."

"You like that?" You ask him, bending down to kiss him. His hand comes down hard on your ass, and you moan against his lips.

"You really think you're in control right now, don't you?" He asks, and you shrug your shoulders. He quickly flips you over, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, going deeper. You moan loudly, and he smirks down at you. "That's what I fucking thought."

"Roman." You whine, he moves to bite down on your neck. "Fuck. You feel so good."

He moves up to suck on your earlobe, driving you insane. "My girl. Aren't you baby?"

"Yes." You breathe out, and he kisses down your neck again until he takes one of your nipples in his mouth.

"Now, look at daddy while you cum all over his cock." He tells you, and you whimper at the words. "Be a good girl for me, and cum."

"I'm go-" you can't finish, as your orgasm rips through you, and he rests his forehead against yours.

"That's it. Good girl." He groans as he fucks you through your high.

"Fill me daddy." You tell him, and he thrusts into you fast, his head in the crook of your head, and shoulder.

"Fuck, Y/N." He groans, and you feel him cum inside you. "God damn." He pulls his head back to look at you before kissing you softly. "You are something else."

"I hope that's a good thing." You tell him, giggling.

"Trust me, it's a good thing. How am I supposed to stay away from you now?" He asks, and you kiss him again.

"You don't." You tell him, and by the look in his eyes, you can tell that he won't.

Tags: @omg-im-such-a-masochist

@galens-mistress

@drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

@wickedsunfire

#romanreignssmut #romanreignsxreader

[toothpastecanyon]

A Name From the Mailbox, Chapter 4

Dipper finds out the author's name before Not What He Seems. It's not the person he expected.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

“The end times?”

The ride home had been strange so far. Dipper and Mabel exchanged glances before looking back at the old man sitting between them.

“There’s a doomsday device under Gravity Falls?” Dipper made a face. “No offense, but is this, uh, like the Gobblewonker situation?”

“It’s real! Look at these gravitational readings, kid!” He gestured at a matrix of numbers on the screen. “Waves of anomalies! And once it activates - you best be holding onto something, cause you’ll start floating up!”

Soos looked back. “Whoa. That sounds pretty cool, dude.”

“It’s not cool! It’s tearing a hole in our universe!”

“Aww.”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Dipper raised a hand. “We can shut it down, right? Where is it?”

“Ohhh… I used to know, I don’t recall!”

“Maybe it’s in that old bunker?” Mabel sat forward. “We should go back there!”

“Maybe…” He frowned. “After the Shack, yeah.”

At that moment, Soos turned into the parking lot. Mabel’s frown deepened.

“Why after?”

“We’re already here, right? It’ll just take a second.” Dipper opened the door and jumped out. He held it for McGucket, and raised an eyebrow when Mabel remained in the car. “Mabel? Come on!”

“We should find the bunker, Dipper.”

“Yeah, we will, just-”

“We should go look for the bunker, now.” Mabel crossed her arms. “We just got told there’s a big scary thing that’s gonna end the world and you still want to look for Stan stuff? He’s not gonna know about a doomsday thingy.”

“Well, we don’t know that-”

“Dipper.”

Mabel was looking at him with a very knowing expression. He took one look at it, and then sighed.

“Well… if Stan’s the Author, he’s gotta know where it’ll be, right? He probably built it.” He watched Mabel raise her eyebrows. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Because I don’t think Grunkle Stan’s the Author, Dipper.” She pulled her hands into her sleeves. “You know that, right?”

Dipper hesitated. He looked back towards the house; Soos was opening the side door. “I mean, it’s very possible. And we’re already here, we might as well-”

Mabel got out of the car and pushed past him without a word. He frowned and hurried to catch up with her.

“Come on, Mabel. Don’t be like that.” A pause. “I don’t think it’d be in the bunker anyways. We looked all over that place.”

“Hey, dude!” Soos waved him over. “What are we looking for? I forgot.”

“It’s…” Dipper glanced one more time at Mabel, then jogged forwards. “It’s a big stack of papers, it should be in the living room. Come on.”

They entered the kitchen, and Dipper suddenly froze - was Stan back? He listened for a couple seconds, but the house was silent… eerily silent. They headed into the living room and were greeted by an empty chair - and no thesis, no picture to show Fiddleford.

“Of course,” Dipper frowned. “Stan must’ve put them somewhere.”

“...What is this place?”

A strange question - he glanced over, and found McGucket looking around the room.

“Oh, it’s just our house,” he said, and then cleared his throat. “I bet he still has it somewhere. Soos, you know where he hides stuff, right?”

“Yeah… he says I’m supposed to keep them secret, though. Like the money under the squeaky step on the stairs, the arrest warrants under the rug in the gift shop…” He counted them off with his fingers. “The wallets in the Sascrotch…”

“Okay, cool, you can take the gift shop.” Dipper looked over at McGucket. “And, uh, take him too, I guess. Mabel and I- oh, you know where it might be? His office, we’ll go there.”

“Okay,” said Mabel. He cringed a bit at her tone, but continued.

“Alright, if we find it, we can meet back up. It’ll be hard to miss, it’s like a giant stack of paper, and it’ll have Stan’s picture on top.”

“Got it, dude.” Soos shot finger guns at him as he backed away. “Come on, McGucket, it’s this way.”

The two of them shuffled out of sight, and Dipper nodded to Mabel.

“Alright, let’s, uh, go.”

“Yeah, to the office.”

Mabel turned and started walking to the back. He trailed along behind her.

“Yeah, it’ll just be quick,” he said. Paused. Then: “It’s worth checking out. I mean, you saw the same stuff I saw. It’s not at least a little weird to you that he’s got a whole PhD on anomalous events even though he never-”

“Yeah, Dipper, you told me already.”

“Then why doesn’t it make sense to check it out?” He opened the door to the office. “If he’s not the author, then we can just go to the next thing, right?”

Mabel snorted. “Oh yeah, and you’re totally ready to let this go. I know you, dum dum. You’re gonna spend the rest of the summer obsessing about this, and not in a fun way. In the ‘arguing with Grunkle Stan every night’ way.”

“Well… well, it’s weird, isn’t it? Stan is hiding something.” He made a beeline for the paper shredder, and picked it up. “Look, look! This thing’s stuffed - ugh, I bet he shredded it! Now why do you think he’d do that?”

“I dunno?” Mabel poked at the paper copier. “Hey, do you remember that dance party we had? Maybe we could ask Grunkle Stan to throw another one!”

“Oh, that? Oh, that…” He started going through the papers scattered around the desk. “I remember that. I didn’t really get to spend a lot of time at it, I was, uh…”

“Trying to nerd your way into dancing with Wendy?”

“Yeah, yeah... Mabel, look!” He grabbed a piece of paper. “There’s one page he didn’t shred for some reason - and it’s the one with his picture! Yes!” He flipped it over to show her. “Look, it is him, right down to the glasses! And he’s building the Mystery Shack - tell me that’s not him!”

Mabel frowned at the photo. She started to open her mouth, but-

There was a sound. A yell. A cry. Both of them locked eyes, and without a word they ran for the gift shop.

“Are you guys okay?” Dipper said as he burst through the door. The first thing he saw was McGucket, on the floor, trembling. “McGucket?”

“I seen it!” McGucket stabbed a finger at - the vending machine? “I seen it, right down there! It’s there!”

“What’s here?” Mabel tried to help him up, but he scrambled away. “What’s wrong?”

“The machine… my mind… I’m not going down there again! You can’t make me!”

Then he bolted for the door. Soos tried to grab him, but he was gone in a flash, the door slamming shut behind him. Dipper blinked, and then looked to Soos.

“Uh… what happened?”

“I dunno, dude! One minute he was fine, I turn around and suddenly he’s freaking out!” Soos picked up a case on the counter. “He left his laptop, too.”

“Weird.” Mabel took it from him. “What do you think he saw? Dipper?”

Dipper wasn’t right beside her. He had walked a couple paces forward, towards the vending machine.

“Dipper?”

It looked normal, mundane. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d passed by this thing without sparing it a second glance. There was nothing really to draw the eye; no flashy colours, no display lights on the snacks, no attempt from Stan to dress it up as any sort of attraction. It was maybe the most normal looking thing in the gift shop, but…

He reached out. Felt the sides. There was decades’ worth of grime caught between the metal edge and the wooden wall, but as his fingers slid down, they came across something - a bump?

He looked.

A hinge.

______________________________________________________________

Shit. Shit, shit. Did he lose them?

Heart beating in his chest, Stan slowly raised himself up, and looked out the side of the van he was driving. Through the cracks in the grass, he could see lights from the highway silhouetting the trees he looked through. White lights - no red and blue, though it was harder to tell with the feds.

He grit his teeth, and forced his shoulders down. It had been quiet for a while. If they were gonna find him here, they would’ve done it by now.

“Alright, Stan,” he grunted. Opened the door. “Hard part’s done. Now I just need to get it home.”

He rubbed his forehead as he got out of the van; there was a split in it that had stopped bleeding not that long ago. He cast one look to the front, to the smoking engine crumpled into the side of a thick trunk, and limped his way to the back - past the side of the van that read ‘OFFICIAL WASTE DISPOSAL VEHICLE’ in large letters. He unlatched the rear doors, opened them, and shone a flashlight inside.

There was the shine of several metal cylinders. One of them had flown up a little in the collision and was resting sideways on the others. It looked like it had a pretty bad dent in it, but nothing looked to be leaking out; not noticeably, at least.

“Hmph.” He nodded a little. “I can work with this. Alright.”

There was a tarp and a couple construction signs thrown about the back; he covered the van, set up a few signs to keep away curious onlookers, then started off through the forest. It slow and dark, but, as he checked his watch, not dark for too much longer. The kids’d be up if he took too long, so he groaned and forced himself to walk a little faster.

Shouldn’t’ve tried to rush this job, he thought. Should’ve learned his lesson from Columbia. If the feds weren’t onto him before, they sure were now. Maybe he should get out of town for a bit, take the kids on a little road trip…

He made a face. Miss the portal opening, probably. Thirty years of work, and he might not even be there to see it pay off.

There was a tug and a ripping sound as his pantlegs brushed past a thorny bush, and he swore under his breath.

“Great. Just great.” Finally he trudged his way out onto the Shack’s parking lot. “Alright, focus. Gotta work quickly.”

Stan grabbed some supplies stashed by the outhouse and loaded them into his car. He put the seats back, started it, and drove right back to where he’d hit the trees; for once he was driving carefully, following the speed limit. Once he saw the flash of construction signs down in the forest, he turned off his headlights and drove slowly down to the van.

There, he stopped. Pulled the tarp off. The words emblazoned across the sides of the van were really gonna catch the eye of whoever found this thing; he took a can of spraypaint and quickly covered them, paused, and then replaced it with ‘PROPERTY OF TENT OF TELEPATHY’ After that, he opened the back and loaded as many drums of waste into his car that he could. When he ran out of space, he wrapped two in the tarp and tied them to the roof.

Stan tightened them one last time, and stepped back to catch his breath.

There. Now all he had to do was get home.

The sky was just barely beginning to lighten as Stan pulled back into the Mystery Shack. He pulled off his gloves as he made his way toward the gift shop, opened the door, and walked towards the vending machine.

Something did catch his eye, though. There was something on the register with a little red light; he picked it up, and immediately he could feel it was a little camera… A camera that was currently recording. Stan frowned at that, and looked up, up to the vending machine it was pointed at.

He had a bad feeling about this. And a second later when he heard a strange creak from the corner of the gift shop, he reached down, grasped the baseball bat leaning against the side of the counter, and made his way to the sound.

He stepped silently, avoiding the squeaky floorboards. There was definitely a figure in the corner, but… smaller than he was expecting. It didn’t look like an agent, actually, it looked more like…

“Kid?”

Dipper squinted when the flashlight came on. Stan breathed a sigh of relief - yup, it was just him - before a new fear started churning his stomach.

“What are you doing here kid? It’s late, you should be in bed!” He shone the flashlight lower. “Are those IDs? Did you go rooting through my room?”

“It is late. Where have you been, Grunkle Stan?”

Stan glanced back to his car. He really didn’t have time for this.

“And what happened to your face?”

“Eh… woodpecker.” Stan motioned him up. “Cmon, kid, off to bed with you. Your parents’d kill me if they found out how late you’re up.”

“Since when have you cared about how late we stay up?”

“Since right now, kid, so-“

“No!” Dipper crossed his arms, and there was a strange shine in his eyes. “What’s wrong with me sitting here? In this room?”

“Dipper.”

“You’re hiding something, aren’t you!”

“Dipper, you’re trying my patience.” He glanced back again. “Look, how about I cut you a deal. You go to bed, tomorrow we can have a proper talk about this, alright?”

“What, so you can tell me more about how you aren’t the Author?” He rose to his feet. “You know, ‘Stan’, at first I thought you weren’t telling me because you wanted to ‘protect me’ or whatever, but now I know what you’re up to. McGucket, he saw what the machine was gonna do to the world, but you kept going, didn’t you?”

“McGucket? What?”

“It’s too late to play dumb, Stan! I know what you’re really hiding. There’s a doomsday machine under the Mystery Shack!”

Stan heard that, and the first thing that came out of his mouth was a startled snort. “What?” He managed. “You spent this whole time trying to figure me out, and you came up with that?”

But the look in his eyes… wow, he was serious about this, wasn’t he?

“You really think I’m building a doomsday machine?” Stan laughed again, but it rang hollow against Dipper’s unsmiling expression. “Have a little faith in me, kid, come on. I’m not trying to end the world.”

“You’re lying.” He said, trying to puff out his chest. “And I’m not gonna let you do this. I’m gonna stop you.”

At that, Stan let out a deep sigh. He looked up at the first morning rays peeking through the blinders, and then back at his nephew.

“Go to bed, kid.”

“No. I’m gonna stay here, I’m- hey!”

In one move, Stan picked him up and hoisted him over his shoulder. He started towards the back, wincing a bit as Dipper pounded on his shoulder.

“Let me go, Grunkle Stan! Let me go!”

Up the stairs. Dipper tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he held him firmly in place.

“You’ve just proved I’m right, you know! You’re not gonna get away with this!”

Stan made his way up to the attic, opened the door, and set dipper down in the bedroom. He blocked Dipper from squeezing past him as he started swinging it closed.

“Stan!”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow. You get some rest.” As the gap narrowed, he saw the light landing on Mabel’s bed. She almost looked asleep, but he could see her staring back at him. “Night, kids.”

Then he shut the door, turned the lock… and after a second of hesitation he dragged a chair over and slotted it under the handle. A bit extreme, he thought, but the kid was smart. Tonight wasn’t the night to take chances.

Stan backed away, and started back down the steps.

He was so close, now. So close.

And no one was going to get in his way.

Hours later, when Dipper was slumped half-asleep against the door, he grunted at a strange light. It wasn’t like the sunlight; it was strangely blue, and as he bolted up and rubbed his eyes, he could see it shining up from between the floorboards.

Then he felt… strange. Light. He yelped as his feet suddenly left the ground, and suddenly everything in their bedroom was starting to float up, up; McGucket’s laptop, slowly spinning in the air, beeped and displayed a message that made his blood go cold:

MACHINE STATUS: ACTIVE

And then suddenly the weightlessness vanished, and he dropped back down, scrambled over to the laptop.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he said, his face lit red from warning signs. “Stan, what are you doing?”

#gravity falls #toothwrites #dipper pines #mabel pines #stan pines

[the-edge-of-great]

Can you do number 1? Maybe with Luke and Reggie getting arrested and using their one phone call to call Alex? It would take place prior to the series. Or if you have a better idea that's cool too

this kinda got long; I hope you enjoy! :)

1. “We got arrested.”

-----

It’s one AM, apparently. Luke wakes Alex with the phone call. Whoops. He excuses the short, grumpy responses when he asks the time. Then, when he feels Alex is awake enough to understand, he drops the bomb: “We got arrested.”

Alex inhales sharply. “We?”

“Reggie and me.”

“Oh my god,” Alex mutters. “For what?”

“We, uh…” Luke looks at Reggie over his shoulder. They’re both sheepish, neither wanting to admit what happened. “Public intoxication.”

“No way.”

“… Yeah.”

“Dude, I can’t bail you out for public intoxication! They probably won’t release you unless a parent is there.”

“Yeah, but that obviously can’t happen,” Luke reminds. “That’s why I called you.”

Alex groans, and Luke can imagine him dragging a hand down his face. “There’s no way my parents are going to help. Maybe I can call Bobby…?”

“One minute,” the officer barks from the doorway.

“One minute?!” Alex repeats. “Wait, I don’t even know where you guys are!”

“Alex, chill. If we run out of time, Reggie will call next.”

“Luke,” Alex whines. “You know I’d love to help, but legally, I don’t think I can.”

“Don’t you have a fake? Just bring that.”

“One, I said legally. Two, did you just tell me to bring a fake ID in to fool police while standing in a police station?!”

Luke breathes an exhausted laugh. “Just trying to help.”

“Time’s up!”

Alex makes a noise of protest. “That was not one minute!”

“I know, it’s okay,” Luke says hurriedly. He’s eyeing the officer, who’s making his way over to the phone. “Reggie’s gonna call back, alright?”

“Okay, but—”

Click

Luke chews on his lip, training his eyes on the ground to stop himself from glaring at the officer. That was hardly thirty seconds, he wants to say. But Reggie is already reaching past him for the phone, and it’s okay anyways. Alex will think of something, and they’ll be out of here in no time.

Reggie plays with the zipper of his jacket the whole walk back to the cell. There are two other men in the cell when they arrive; they were there before Reggie and Luke and haven’t been any trouble all night. One is still asleep against the wall, stretched across a cold metal bench with his arms as a pillow.

The other is standing under the only window in the room, basking in the moonlight and picking at the dirt beneath his fingernails. He looks up when the door unlocks. Reggie and Luke actively avoid eye contact. They return to their bench against a side wall. While Reggie takes a seat, Luke leans against the wall. His butt still hurts from sitting on the metal for two hours prior.

Once the officer leaves, the window guy makes his way over. He doesn’t look much older, maybe a few years on them. A few years is much less intimidating than the forty-year-old in the corner. Still, when Luke moves in front of Reggie and blocks the guy’s path, his legs are fear infused jelly all the same.

The guy stops in his tracks. He has Luke locked in a staring contest, and every passing second, Luke’s throat is closing with fear. This guy has sleeves of tattoos and an eyebrow cut with a scar. When he smirks, it’s actually a snarl. The room is dead silent. Luke wonders how long it would take someone to come back and break up a fight. Then, he wonders with a heavy heart if anyone would even come back.

To his utmost relief, the other guy backs off. He returns to his spot under the window. Luke stays put for a few seconds longer, rocking on his heels, waiting for something more. He doesn’t realize his hands have been in tight fists from the fear until he uncurls them and his hands tingle.

Reggie grabs his wrist. “Sit down,” he whispers in the smallest voice Luke has ever heard from him. It’s weird because Reggie isn’t quiet. Ever. Usually, the other can’t get him to shut up.

Luke finally takes a seat, and already, he feels the pain in his back from the bench. Reggie leans against him, close enough for their shoulders to touch and their knees to bump. Luke wonders if he’s doing that as a reminder, like him looking back to make sure Reggie was still there.

He’s not sure how much time passes between Reggie falling asleep on his shoulder and the cell doors opening again. It’s been long enough for him to almost doze off twice and jerk awake both times after remembering where he is and what could’ve happened with the window man. The last time he’s beginning to drift off to sleep is when the locks echo through the room, and they both jolt awake.

Then suddenly, Alex is there. He’s frantic, speaking and moving as if the building’s on fire. There are tears in his eyes, down his face. His hair is disheveled. Luke sits up quickly, stomach leaping to his throat.

“Guys,” he’s saying, grabbing them both by a shoulder, and that’s when Luke realizes how hard he’s breathing, “we have to get to the hospital. We—Uncle Brian—He’s—”

Like a switch is flipped, Reggie is talking again, “Alex, buddy, slow down. Breathe, okay?” He takes his own deep breath for demonstration. “Breathe.”

Luke eyes the guy in the corner. “Let’s go somewhere else,” he mutters, shoving them toward the door. As soon as the door shuts behind him with them on the outside, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he’s been holding.

They have to stop at the front desk before they can leave. Luke handles paperwork and retrieves their belongings, since Alex has Reggie’s hand in a death grip and is still panicking for some reason. Once they’re free to go, they hurry out the front door.

Alex doesn’t let go of Reggie’s hand until they’re in the parking lot around the corner. He leans against his car, running his hands through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey, hey,” Reggie says, grabbing his arm. “What’s wrong? Talk to us.”

“What’s wrong?” Alex repeats, breathless. He rolls his eyes. “My best friends are idiots who got freaking arrested!”

“Well it wasn’t a picnic for us either,” Luke mutters.

“I didn’t know what to do to get you guys out, so I was just hoping a fake family emergency would work.” Alex presses his fingers to his chest. He pauses to work out his breathing. Luke and Reggie share worried looks. “Then,” Alex explains with a gasp, “I panicked over lying to the police, and that’s where the show came from.”

“Great job, though,” Reggie praises, laughing weakly. “It worked.”

“You guys owe me. Big time.”

Luke cracks a smile. “How about this: I’ll buy you lunch after band practice tomorrow.”

“After the next three practices.”

“Sheesh, you drive a hard bargain.”

Alex shrugs. “Shouldn’t have gotten arrested.”

When Luke and Reggie look at each other again, they’re laughing. Finally. Finally, they feel like normal again.

“And I’m crashing with you tonight,” Alex adds. “Don’t think I can handle being caught sneaking back in too.”

Luke nods. “Yeah, I get it. Thanks for saving us.”

Alex rolls his eyes as he unlocks his car. “You guys are so lucky to have me.”

As he walks around to the driver’s side, Luke turns to Reggie. They’re grinning, both from how right Alex is and the night they’ve just had. Scary? Yes. Exciting? Also yes. Bobby will find it hilarious tomorrow.

Luke slings an arm around Reggie’s shoulders and steers him toward the car. Toward home. Toward safety and a comfortable couch and the company of his friends, not the window man.

On the way, Luke falls asleep on him. Alex refrains from teasing (he’ll have all day tomorrow). And Reggie smiles; a reminder that they’re still together. 

-----

send me prompts!

#Julie and the phantoms #JATP #luke x reggie #eog writes

[majesticbrownjawn]

Delicate

Violet reluctantly goes to a house party with her bestie. Meets Erik. Is subsequently turned out. 😩

————————————

"So you coming girl? It's gon be lots of niggas there."

"I'm good. I'm not tryna meet no niggas. I'm tryna meet a man."

Violet was thirty-three and far past the time for games. She was focused and didn't want a man to come and throw her off her game. That's what her 20s had been for and she'd left them behind almost four years ago.

"I need you to be my wingman though. Pleaseeeeee."

"Fine. I'll come, but I'm driving and just know I'm leaving yo ass when I'm ready to go."

Three hours later she was in her car listening to Siri giving her directions to the kickback.

"Girl, where the hell we going?"

"Uhhhhh..." Trina knew if she'd told Violet where the party was, she wouldn't have come. She loved her friend, but she could be uptight and snooty.

"Um, hello. I'm not talking to Siri's ass, Trina.

"Oakland," she squeaked.

"Trina!"

"I know. But I really wanted to come. This is Devante's best friend's party and I didn't want to go alone. I won't know anyone else there."

Trina was the opposite of Violet in that she was blinded by her desire for companionship. Most times she'd end up hurt or used, or both, only to make the same mistake with the next guy. Devante seemed to be a little better, but Violet hadn't met him yet, so she couldn't say for sure. Violet had a keen intuition and she rarely read people wrong. She was eager to see what Devante was all about.

Violet looked at the GPS and saw they only had about 10 minutes left on their ride. If they hadn't been so close, she would have turned back in the direction of her condo.

They pulled up to the home and compared to the others on the block, it looked out of place. It was, well, nice. No doubt an anomaly among the rest of what comes to mind of what people like Violet might think stereotypical Oakland looks like.

Violet groaned when she realized they'd have to park about a block down the street. Cars lined the area and she hoped the people who drove those cars weren't in the same place they were headed. It was a futile hope and as they got closer, the smell of ganja overwhelmed them. They were hit with another wave when they opened the door to the home.

"You're paying to get my hair washed, Trina!"

Violet was forced to yell in her friend's ear. Music was blaring from a wall of speakers to her right. It was artistic in a way. They resembled something she'd seen at a museum last summer in Brooklyn.

The pair weaved through the crowd of people. Some looked like Oakland natives, some looked like hipsters, others looked like something else entirely. It was just mid-afternoon but there were already people here and there passed out drunk.

A group of older men sat around playing spades and cracking jokes at each other. The sight was strange, down to the cheap fold away table. The house was immaculately decorated and the table just didn't fit in. Violet figured one of the men probably brought it with them. Maybe they lived just on the other side of this house on a block that looked more like the Oakland she saw on TV. She and Trina squeezed around the men to enter the kitchen, where they found Devante, but more importantly for Violet—drinks. She was already eager to leave and they'd just arrived. She meant what she said about leaving when she got fed up, but it wouldn't have been fair to tell her best friend she was ready to go now. Especially not after she saw the way Trina and Devante made heart eyes at each other.

"What up doe? I'm Devante." He extended his hand to her and she took it hesitantly.

The first thing she noticed was his strong accent. He was an Oakland native. Devante also wasn't yelling. The kitchen was far away enough from the speakers that one could have a conversation without risking losing their voice from screaming. They talked for about 20 minutes, but it was a one-sided dialogue that consisted of Violet asking him questions and him answering. He took her interrogation in stride, responding patiently and thoughtfully. At the end of it, she decided he was corny as fuck. But in a good way, kinda like Nick Cannon, but with a West Coast vibe. Her gut told her he was OK, for now. She wasn't interested in watching the two of them carry on like teenagers, so she made her way out of the kitchen and back out into the crowd.

She quickly regretted her decision as she was tossed about in the sea of people. She held her drink close to her chest, a strategy she hoped would save the Henny in her red Solo cup. Violet huffed as she finally made it to the front porch and glanced inside. There was a corner left and she scowled at it like that would magically refill it. She shotted the remaining liquid and licked what was left of the spillage from her index and middle fingers.

"Damn girl. That's how you feel?"

Violet nearly broke her neck moving her head in the direction of the voice. It came from across the porch. A shadowy figure stood just out of clear view, which was strange because it was still daylight outside. She hadn't noticed before, but the porch was of the wrap around variety and this person stood just as the porch took a turn for the other side of the house.

"Excuse me?" She was embarrassed that someone had seen her, but she'd be damned if she let one of these Oakland dudes shame her.

Shame.

Hmm.

The shadow man took a step forward and revealed himself to be quite interesting. She had a habit of looking at men she met from foot to head. She used to judge a man on his shoes first. She wasn't as shallow as she had once been, but the habit of doing it never went away. He wore a pair of those sock looking sneakers, gray joggers and a fitted long sleeve Henley tee. His thick muscular frame filled in everything beautifully.

To put it simply, he looked good.

"You ain't never been to the Town before, have you?" He took a few more steps into view and sat on an outdoor couch on the opposite side of the porch.

"What town?"

"Guess not," he scoffed.

She scrunched her brows confused and annoyed. She didn't like not knowing something. Was the Town a club? Maybe he thought he'd seen her there befo—

"Oakland. That's what we call Oakland."

Oh.

She watched him as he rolled his sleeves up casually, but there was anything casual about the way his forearms looked. Violet's intuition sensors started going haywire. The alarms in her head were about as loud as the music inside the house.

"Want more?" A sly half grin swept across his face as he tempted her, waving a nearly full fifth of Hennessy at her.

"You looked like you wanted more...the way you were licking those fingers a second ago."

She stared at him, fuming. Even more embarrassed now.

"C'mere."

She didn't want to, those alarms were still warning her to stay away from this man.

But Hennessy.

She took a deep breath as she rose and walked to him. The few steps felt like miles.

"Sit."

Violet plopped to the far end of the outdoor couch.

"Why you all the way over there? You scared?"

Yes.

She hadn't been close to a man this fine since—never, actually. He was the finest man she'd ever laid eyes on. She was certain of it now that she was up close. The realization made her nervous.

"What's your name babygirl?"

"I'm not your baby or a girl. Are you going to give me some or not?" She raised her empty cup to his face. Her attitude and entitlement was almost unattractive but it was something different than what he was used to. She intrigued him.

He grinned again, shifting closer to her.

"Yea, but first lick your fingers again for me."

Violet yelped at the request. She'd never been asked something so vulgar in such a forward manner, by a complete stranger. Had she not been in the hood and had this man not been so damn fine, she likely would have slapped him and got up to find her friend. She instead just stared at him appalled, offended and anxious.

He crept closer, as close as he could get, approaching her like a jaguar ready to pounce. The shadow man's arm rested behind her head on the back of the couch, the smell of him refusing to be ignored.

Mahogany.

Coconut.

Cedar.

The combination of sweetness and spice made blood rush through her veins like whitewater in a rapid. He leaned into her neck and her eyes fluttered at how close he was. She could feel the heat leaving his body.

"I don't like to repeat myself, babygirl." He rested his hand on the curve of her neck, his thumb rubbed back and forth across the length of her throat. He finally gave her a bit more breathing room, but his hand stayed put.

Violet was a deer in headlights. Completely struck by the situation. His boldness. His beauty. His dominance. And that she was fighting the fact she liked it. She glanced down at her own hand seriously contemplating doing it. Not for the Henny, but because she wanted to please him.

She looked back up at him.

"I-I dunno—"

And suddenly her fingers were in her mouth. He'd grabbed her hand while she was distracted trying to make a decision.

Violet's eyes widened and she let out a soft whimper as he guided her fingers in and out her mouth.

"That's right. Look at me. You got some pretty ass eyes." He spoke his words slowly and carefully, allowing her to see the slugs on his lower canines for the first time.

She cursed herself in her head as she now willingly sucked and licked on her fingers, giving him what he wanted.

After he was satisfied, he removed her fingers from her mouth and studied how wet and blush her lips were now. The thought of sliding his dick between them made him twitch.

"Open up." He tapped the bottle to her lips and gave her a shot's worth before pouring more in her cup. He got up and headed for the front door.

"Where are you going?" Her question sounded desperate. He heard it too, the smug look on his face was a clear indication of such.

"We going back inside. C'mon."

Violet sprung up like a weed. She was surprised to see his hand outstretched to her. She didn't want to take it so easily, but she knew the mass of people standing around on the other side of the door would likely separate them if she didn't. She held his hand and marveled at how warm it was. She felt this odd sense of comfort holding it.

Violet's gaze then became fixed on his arms and those scars. She moved her hand above his wrist and gently padded the first few rows on his forearm. The touch made him jerk his head back at her and the look he gave scared her enough to move her hand back to his and keep it there.

She noticed her and Shadow Man's walk was much easier than hers and Trina's. People seemed to move out of his way as he approached them. Some moved out of the way with a look of awe, it seemed. Or was it respect? Maybe even fear? His stride was smooth and confident as he parted the crowd like Moses and she wondered just what she was doing with him. What possessed her to follow him in here, holding his hand? What did he have planned for her?

She was relieved when they approached that table with the men playing cards. Maybe they were headed for the kitchen and Trina could talk some sense into her.

"Y'all old niggas still playing? Ain't it time for y'all to report back to the nursing home?" The table erupted in laughter. Violet even snickered to herself a bit. The Shadow Man had a sense of humor it seemed.

"If you don't get yo' mop head ass outta here, E," one of the old men replied.

Another gentleman threatened to 'whoop his ass' like they used to for wearing that size ‘smedium’ shirt.

"Watch ya mouf unc!" Shadow Man joked. Or was it E? The first man called him E. It should've mattered. She didn't plan on telling him her name anyway.

Violet was disappointed to see that her best friend wasn't in the kitchen. That meant she was on her own in trying to be rational about this situation.

"Why you looking like that?"

She raised a brow at him.

"All worried and shit." He pressed his thumb against the wrinkles between her brows. She was sure he didn't mean for it to be, but the action was calming. She shrugged at him and that seemed to be answer enough.

There were still a few people milling about in the kitchen, but it mostly cleared out when they entered the space. He seemed to know the few stragglers still there and it made her wonder just who he was.

"Who are you?"

He laughed at her question as he leaned on the counter across from her. He was taking too long to answer and her mind raced with the possibilities of who he might be.

"I don't like repeating myself either...E." She took a satisfied swig from her cup.

That'll teach him.

Shadow Man didn't seem to like it though. He quickly stepped to her and forced himself back into her space, clenching his jaws.

"You went to college, huh? Prolly grad school too." Not the response she expected but he was right, nevertheless.

"Yea. And?" She didn't feel as intimidated as she had before.

Had to be the Hennessy.

"You smart." She smiled at his compliment.

"Problem is," he continued, "You think you smarter than me and everybody else in here."

E was also a good read of people. He knew her type and she stuck out like a sore thumb here, but only because of her bougie ass disposition.

"You not though." He cupped her ass firmly.

"See, I know I'm smarter than yo uppity ass...Cuz I knew you'd like my hands on you like this."

He slapped her behind and the sting rang across the kitchen. The short, thin dress she wore did nothing to muffle the sound. She started to look around her to see if anyone was looking but he grabbed her chin, keeping her eyes and focus on him.

"And you weren't smart enough to stay away from me." Her heart pounded. He was telling her everything she knew already.

"Why should I stay away from you?"

"Exactly, babygirl."

What? That's wasn't an applicable answer to her question.

He was watching her lips again, but this time she noticed. His tight little eyelashes blinked slowly at her pout before traveling back up to her 'pretty ass eyes.'

"You wanna kiss me,” she whispered.

"That's a question or a statement?"

"You tell me, since you so smart, E." He slapped her ass again for her sarcastic remark. This time she didn't try to scan the room for a potential audience. She didn't seem to care.

His frame enveloped her, despite her being a good 5'8" and thickly. She rarely felt small but she did now and it was a complete turn on.

One hand on her ass and the other on her face was how he started the kiss. She started it with a gasp. His lips were velvety soft. Her eyes were open at first. She had to make sure he was really kissing her. When she saw his were closed, she followed suit and was thrust into a kiss unlike any kiss she'd had in her life. Who knew thug type niggas kissed like this? It was rough, yet gentle and hot all at the same time. He pulled away from her only after suckling her full lips and finishing their kiss with a surprisingly sweet final peck.

She was stuck there for a moment, eyes still closed and leaning towards him. Until she realized he was gone. She looked back out the kitchen, past the old man card table and saw his short, stiff, dreadlocked ponytail hovering just above the crowd. She darted out the kitchen after him.

She found the courage to muscle through the crowd, because this time she had good reason to. Her own height assisted in her effort to keep an eye on the tips of his locs. Where the fuck was he going? The fact that he'd abruptly left after their kiss made a swell of insecurity rise up in her, yet she continued following him.

Violet felt some relief when she saw him heading up a flight of stairs above her. She hurried to the base of the steps and took a deep breath. She didn't want to be here just an hour ago and now she was following the Shadow Man up the stairs in some stranger's house.

Those pesky sirens in her head were blaring now. She could barely hear her own thoughts.

When she saw him disappear into the darkness of the hallway upstairs, her feet involuntary took the first step, and the one after that, until she found herself at the top looking down into the sea of people below. She continued down the dark hall looking for him. There was a slightly ajar door at the end of it that had a light shining from underneath it.

She pushed the door open slowly. There were sketches and what looked like computer parts all over the room. She gave herself a tour of the room and assessed that whoever lived in this house was probably a genius or at least smart as hell.

Impressive.

She was intrigued to the point that she momentarily forgot about him. When she was done being nosy, she headed for the door, flipped the light off and simultaneously felt two hands around her throat. The strength of the person was terrifying. It had only been a few seconds and she already felt lightheaded. Violet's arms flailed around, trying to grasp the light switch. If she was going to die tonight, she would at least see her killer. They must have sensed her plan and pulled her closer to them.

Mahogany.

Coconut.

Cedar.

"E...," she croaked as her hand made contact with the forearm of her attacker. His raised skin gave him away. She felt relieved that she knew it was him, despite the fact that his grip hadn't loosened around her neck.

"Please...I'm gonna...pass out..." she tapped at his hand and he released her.

"The fuck you doing up here, babygirl?!"

#erik killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x black!reader #killmonger x oc #erik killmonger #killmonger smut #killmonger x reader

[thetriggeredhappy]

I love your idea of scout bein born early. Would it be too much trouble for you to write abt him bein in the hospital? And maybe possibly spy findin out?

this feels like a slightly different angle than the prompt, anon, but in my defense that’s what always happens

(warnings for alcohol mention, non-graphic injury and briefly being in a hospital)

-

The phone rang three times before it was picked up, and Scout used all three of those rings to try and get his story straight in his head. Then it was picked up and a familiar and very pleasant voice said “Hey, this is Pauling,” and he wasted exactly zero seconds to start talking.

“Alright so I kinda need some help, Miss P,” he opened with, because frankly those were some cards he knew were gonna end up on the table no matter how he played this.

“What did you do?” she asked immediately, and fuck, she was on to him.

“I—listen, I didn’t even do anything.”

“What did you do?” she asked again.

“...So, okay, promise you won’t be mad.”

“I’m already mad, Scout. What did you do?”

Scout worked hard for about three seconds to figure out a good way to phrase the next few sentences. “...So I was just at this bar, right, and I was minding my own goddamn business—“

“Scout.”

“I was!” he said, a little defensive. “Seriously! And this guy sees me across the bar, and, y’know, figures out I’m one of those guys from the newspaper who keeps causing trouble—“

“Were you in uniform?” she asked dryly.

“Nah, but, uh, Soldier and Cyclops were there, and some of the other guys were there earlier, and Soldier had his stupid helmet on, so, y’know. Bunch of foreigners and some G.I. Joe lookin’ guy, wouldn’t be hard to piece it together. And most of the guys left, and Soldier and Demo walk off, and I’m left alone just finishing my drink before I head out, like ya do.”

“Like you do,” Miss Pauling hesitantly agreed.

“And this guy goes, hey, three dudes is a lot, but I could take this one guy. And he comes up to me, right, all like ‘Hey what’s up I’m a drunk dude who wants to get in a fight like an asshole’ and I’m like ‘Hey nah I’m good actually’ because like, I’m busy and that’s stupid, right?”

“Right,” Miss Pauling agreed. “Really stupid.”

“Right! So I’m like, ‘Hey, fuck off pal’ and he just takes a fuckin’ swing at me, and I’m like ‘Hey actually fuck this I already paid I’m just gonna get outta here’ and I try to leave, but the dude just like—just grabs me by the arm and breaks my fuckin’ wrist, and I knock my whole glass over because holy shit, and a whole fuckin’ brawl kicks off, right—?”

“So long story short you need me to pick you up from jail again,” Miss Pauling cut in, voice laced with heavy exasperation.

“Nah, bartender saw everything and I didn’t get in any trouble. I, uh. I need you to pick me up from the hospital, actually,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as a nurse wheeled a cart by.

“Scout.”

“Look, I would’a just headed back to base, but it was like two in the morning and Medic was probably asleep and the bartender guy was bein’ all nice about it and how am I supposed to tell him I’ve got this crazy German guy who fixes all my bones and shit and don’t gotta go to a real hospital?” he asked, a little defensive. “Then they wouldn’t let me leave unless someone drove me because I’ve got a cast on and can’t drive, and I figured I shouldn’t wake you up or whatever at like four in the morning, so, I ended up taking a nap on a bench, and now it’s like ten so I figured you wouldn’t be mad.”

“Well, I can’t drive you back to base—“

“Aww, what?” he whined.

“—because I’m currently in Japan on business.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s fair,” he admitted.

“But I’ll send someone to pick you up,” she said. “Be ready to go in two hours.”

“Sure thing. Who are you sending?” Scout asked.

“I’ll send Spy,” she replied, and kept talking before Scout could start to complain. “Look, maybe now you’ll learn not to get in bar fights.”

“Miss P, c’mon!” he whined.

“I’m sending him. Two hours,” Miss Pauling said, and hung up on him, at which point he sighed so hard he got looks from two nurses down the hall.

Spy pulled up in his nice shiny car an hour and forty-five minutes later, and gave him a look that immediately made him feel guilty even though it totally wasn’t his fault that he was in this situation. He shifted on his feet for a second before heading over to the car. Silence.

“Wanna sign my cast?” Scout joked.

“Just get in the car.”

He did, deciding that maybe further hilarious commentary wasn’t going to help him out this time. Silence for a second. 

He reached for the radio. Spy smacked his hand away. “Put on your seatbelt,” Spy said flatly, and Scout did, although it was a bit of a struggle one-handed, and they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

About thirty seconds of quiet again before Spy broke it. “So you’re a hired mercenary, but one drunk man in a bar can break your arm?” Spy asked.

“Go to hell, Spy,” Scout mumbled.

“I just find it interesting is all,” Spy said, tone light. “That we apparently need to babysit you or else you’ll end up in the morning paper.”

“What?”

Spy reached down between his door and the seat and pulled forth a newspaper, which he promptly tossed into Scout’s lap. “Third page.”

Scout flipped the newspaper open and found that there was indeed an article there. A brawl at the bar, minor property damage, five people arrested and several more fined, two sent to the hospital. He wasn’t mentioned by name, but he did see himself in the background of the picture beside the title.

“You’d think you would have the awareness not to get caught in a... brawl, I believe they called it?” Spy asked.

“Hey, I keep my head on a swivel,” Scout defended, closing the newspaper and tossing it into the backseat. “Everything was fine until Cyclops and Helmet-Head ditched me.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was,” Spy hummed.

Scout frowned. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“No, I’m just certain that you’re giving the full unbiased truth, even though I theoretically have no way of verifying anything you say to me about what happened,” Spy shrugged, eyes on the road.

Scout frowned further. “You callin’ me a liar?”

“No, I’m calling you a bad liar,” Spy said dryly.

“Well it’s true, that’s really what happened,” Scout said, a little offended.

“It doesn’t matter to me either way, I just wanted you to know that you need better cover stories if you want to continue getting away with your usual shenanigans.”

“Whatever, Spy,” Scout scoffed, glaring out the window.

About a minute and a half of complete silence. Scout got bored glancing around his side of the car and spent a good minute just picking at his cast before he realized he probably shouldn’t do that. He ended up reaching for the radio.

“No,” Spy droned.

“Aw, c’mon! Can’t we listen to something?” Scout complained. “It’s like forty minutes until we get back to base.”

“If you didn’t get in a bar fight and break your arm, it would be zero minutes. But you did, and I’m not listening to your terrible taste in music for forty minutes just because you can’t keep yourself out of trouble.”

Scout pouted over that for a minute or two before he thought of a good retort. “...Y’know, technically the guy probably only even jumped me because I was alone,” he said.

“Correct.”

“And I was only alone because you and all the other guys ditched me.”

“Succinct.”

“So this is kinda sorta basically your fault.”

Spy’s expression didn’t change. “...My fault?” he repeated.

“Yeah. If you didn’t ditch me, I wouldn’t have gotten jumped.”

Spy’s expression didn’t change.

“So you should let me turn on the radio.”

“Mon dieu, perhaps you should have been a lawyer,” he deadpanned.

Silence. “...So can I turn on the radio?”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Spy said, and Scout leaned over to fiddle with the dial, grinning.

He really didn’t think Spy would put up with the sort of stuff he usually listened to in the car, so he ended up putting on a station with something old enough that Spy probably didn’t hate it. And Spy didn’t turn it off or pull over to dump him on the side of the road, so apparently he picked something alright.

Ten minutes without talking. Scout looked out his window and tried to remember not to pick at his cast. Because he was looking out the window, he pretty easily caught sight of a sign advertising a diner.

He looked over at a Spy. Spy didn’t look back.

“Can we get diner food?” Scout asked.

“No,” Spy said.

“Please?” Scout asked.

“No,” Spy said.

“Please?” Scout asked.

“Tell me you aren’t seriously going to try this game,” Spy said, already looking annoyed. “You’re a grown man.”

“I’m hungry!”

“Then get something to eat at the base,” Spy said.

“I’m hungry and I have a broken arm and I’m gonna have to deal with Medic fixing my broken arm and also all the guys making fun of me. Can we please get diner food?” Scout asked,

Spy paused for a long moment. Scout’s eyes kept flicking between Spy and the upcoming exit. Spy sighed heavily and moved to take the exit. Scout cheered. “I can still change my mind,” Spy threatened. Scout shut up.

Scout double-checked his pockets for his wallet twice before they even pulled into the parking lot. It didn’t look particularly busy, but Spy didn’t pull up near the door anyways. He put the car into park and gave Scout the single most unimpressed look of his life.

“I’m giving you five minutes to order and get back in this car or I’m leaving without you,” he declared.

“Did you want anything?” Scout asked, fumbling with his seatbelt.

“Do I want terrible greasy American diner food?” Spy scoffed.

“Look, just thought I’d fuckin’ ask, alright? Jesus,” Scout mumbled, managing to get his seatbelt off. “And that doesn’t answer my question. Do you want anything?”

“Four minutes and fifty seconds,” Spy drawled, and Scout quickly got out of the car.

There wasn’t anyone in line, and luckily the diner was staffed by the kind of people who didn’t ask questions beyond giving a pointed glance towards his cast. He kept his order simple and kept an eye on the clock on the wall, and bolted back into the parking lot with the paper bag of food in hand wondering if Spy would seriously actually ditch him.

Surprisingly, Spy had left on the radio, and raised an eyebrow at him as he tried his best to bundle himself into the car one-handed. He managed to get his seatbelt on with only a minor scare about almost spilling the food, and promptly started digging through it as Spy pulled them back out of the parking lot.

“Here,” Scout chirped, holding something out to him. Spy frowned, glancing at his mirrors and taking what was being handed to him distractedly. They were out of the parking lot and back on the road by the time Spy actually looked at it.

“What is this?” he asked dryly, looking at the paper-wrapped something.

“Chicken sandwich,” Scout replied, pulling his own food out. “I uh, I think I got ketchup in here too—“

“Why did you get me a sandwich?”

“Why not?” Scout shrugged, unwrapping his burger and glancing it over before taking a bite and frowning. “Aw, man, I wanted cheese on this. Damn.”

“I didn’t ask for anything.”

“I mean, if you don’t want it, I’ll probably eat it.”

“No,” Spy said, and hesitated. He waited until they were at a stoplight before moving to unwrap the sandwich, glancing it over with a critical eye. Scout noticed that he didn’t take it completely out of the paper even when he did move to start eating it, instead using the paper to hold it. Probably worried about grease or something on his dumb gloves. Usually Scout would make fun of him about it, but he was pretty sure he was very close to getting kicked out of the car.

He wolfed down his hamburger (even without cheese) and started getting to work on his french fries, being extra careful due to the fact that he was pretty sure Spy would kill him if he dropped a fry in his nice, fancy, very very clean car.

He could only play it cool for so long once a joke occurred to him, though. He grinned, taking a fry and holding it between two fingers up near his face. “Hey, look, I’m you,” Scout joked, pretending to take a drag.

Spy spared him a glance and promptly rolled his eyes, returning to glaring at the road. “Not even close.”

“Aww, what?” Scout complained.

“First of all, I’m better dressed,” Spy quipped. “Second of all, I’m taller, and third of all, I didn’t get my arm put in a case because of a bar fight. Shall I continue? The list goes on.”

“Well why are you gettin’ personal about it?” Scout asked, bristling. “I was just makin’ a joke, sheesh.”

“How was I meant to know? Usually jokes are funny,” Spy said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Scout didn’t have a good comeback for that, just sinking in his seat and moving to look back out the window.

A good ten minutes of silence again, broken only by the radio and the hum of the car. Scout finished his fries and put his trash back in the bag the way that Spy seemed to be doing, then crossed his arms over himself and just looked out the window at all the nothing. Silence. Road.

Surprisingly, Spy spoke first. “You’ve missed two Volkswagen Beetles,” he noted.

Scout didn’t say anything.

“Usually when we pass one of those you punch me very hard on the arm and I almost crash the car because you’re an idiot.”

Scout sunk further in his seat, but didn’t say anything.

“Am I meant to gather from this that the way to get you to stop doing that is by making you angry with me? Because if so, clearly I’ll need to be much worse to you from now on if I want to keep this vehicle in one piece.”

“Like that’s even possible for you,” Scout said under his breath.

“I didn’t need to come pick you up from the hospital, nor did I need to let you turn on the radio, nor did I need to pull over to allow you to get food from the diner,” Spy pointed out. “All things considered, I’ve been very nice to you so far.”

“What a saint,” Scout mumbled sarcastically.

Silence. “Do you have something to say?”

“I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk about this, alright Spy?” Scout finally huffed.

“And why not?”

“Look, I’ve had a shitty night, okay?” Scout snapped, glaring hard at the desert outside the window. “I got my arm broken in a stupid bar because the guys got annoyed and ditched me and I was up until like four in the morning getting my arm set and put in a cast and then I had to sleep on a shitty bench in a hospital waiting room and then Miss P sent the one person on the planet who hates me more than anyone else to pick me up. I’m not fuckin’ doin’ this right now, okay? Just lay off.”

Silence. Thank god for the radio, or he would’ve suffocated in it.

“Surely I’m not the person who hates you the most in the world,” Spy said after a few moments. “There are nine men being paid to kill you on a daily basis. I’m sure they hate you much more than I do.”

Scout didn’t reply to that.

“And I’m sure none of them would have pulled over to let you get something to eat,” he added.

“Yeah, holy shit, your Peace Prize is in the mail,” Scout huffed.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Scout snapped, finally looking over at him. Spy couldn’t hold eye contact for long, needing to watch the road. “What was that supposed to mean?”

Spy sighed hard, looking extremely irritated. “It means that have you ever considered that perhaps the team worries when someone goes missing? And that occasionally your teammates might worry about you?”

“How was I supposed to know? Usually teammates are supposed to be nice,” Scout sassed, echoing Spy’s earlier joke.

He watched Spy take a measured inhale, a controlled exhale. When he spoke a long few seconds later, his voice was level. “Fine,” he said. “Alright. You’ve made your point.”

Scout just turned to look back out the window.

“...And I’m sorry we left you alone at the bar.”

His head whipped back around, eyebrows furrowed. Spy wasn’t looking at him.

“And I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier, and thank you for also getting me a sandwich when you didn’t need to,” Spy continued.

Scout waited a good few seconds for the catch, for the ‘gotcha’, for the punchline. For the part where Spy would twist the words around and hit him with something really biting once his guard was down. But nothing came. Just silence.

He needed a long moment to figure out how to reply. “...Thanks,” was all he could manage, and he knew it was lame, but Spy just shrugged and made no further comment.

Minutes of silence. Scout looked out the windshield, picked at his cast. “Punch buggy,” he quipped a few minutes later, slugging Spy on the shoulder with his good hand, and Spy made an appropriate sound of disgust and annoyance and offhandedly threatened to make him walk the rest of the way, but Scout just laughed.

#dad!spy #tf2 #team fortress 2 #my fanfiction #shut up me #everybody talks #spy orders one black coffee and keeps driving like the john mulaney bit

[awkbo0b]

Two of a Kind:1

A/N: Hey everyone, I finished Outer Banks on Netflix about a week ago and I fell in love with the Pogues. Mainly JJ. So I after reading some of there really creative writing about JJ x Reader i came across an idea for my own spin off story. the girl in the story will be named Mae Clemonds, this helps my flow with writing. Also this chapter is going to be a bit boring since i need to introduce my characters and give background on them, but once this passes it should be better and will have much more of JJ and the rest of the Pogues!

Now imagine JJ meeting a girl who is so much like him he can hardly stand her, and same goes to the girl. Can you already feel the sexual tension?

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking

~~

As I pack my third suitcase that i have strictly made for my art supplies, I hear a knock at my door. “Hey, Mae, how is it going in here?” I turn to see my mom standing in the doorway, she has dry clay smeared across her forehead, as usual, and her curly ginger hair is somehow managed into a bun on top of her head.

“Oh you know, it’s going. Got all my water colors here,” I say as i point to them in my suit case, “and my notebooks here, and all my brushes, pencils, and pens are in the pocket.” I smile as i close the suit case and zip it up. “Now I am all set.” I glance at the other two large suitcases that are full of clothes and bathroom necessities, then up to meet my mom’s bright blue eyes. “How about you and dad?”

Mom returns a smile, “Good, your farther finished packing this morning and we just finished the piece as planed. Once I am washed up we will be ready in about thirty minutes, go ahead and load these into the car.” she responded as she pushed herself away from the door frame and began to turn away from the room. “It’s going to be a great summer, I can feel it!” mom adds as she gracefully moves down the hallway, throwing her hands in balled fist above her head as if she just won something. 

A couple months ago my aunt Sadie called my mom and dad offering a once in a life time opportunity. Something that you should know about my family is that we are artist, all of us. My great grandma Allison was the one who started the line of artist. She was an amazing painter, oil was her favorite but you could give her mustard and she would still create art. Her and my great grandpa Clemonds opened up their own gallery, and it has been passed down through the generations. The artistic touch also ran through the family. Not all of us are painters, some are photographers, and others are sculptors like my mom and dad. I like to draw/sketch and use water colors.  But no matter what their choice of media is, my family creates art and adds it to the gallery. The Clemonds family is widely well known in the art community.

So back to the once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity that my Aunt Sadie called my mom about a couple months ago, is the chance for them to create a series together.

About two years ago my Aunt Sadie and her family moved to the coast of North Carolina for a new scenery for their photography. Living in Chicago does give you a lot to work with but my Aunt needed something with more green and less buildings. This move included my cousin Tony, who also happens to be my best friend.

Tony said that where she lives is called Outer Banks and the elite class of the area are a different level of filthy rich. Nose up in the air, refuse to look at anyone who makes anything less that six figures a year level of filthy rich. And these people did their research on my cousin’s family the second they moved in down the street and instantly started asking for personalized art they could buy.

My Aunt agreed to set up her own business to start selling her art there without the ties of the family gallery back at home, and then one day she came up with a great idea. She wanted my mom and dad to come to North Carolina and to work with her. Neither me or Tony know what our parents had in mind but after two years I’m going to see my best friend, and the plane leaves in 2 hours.

-

The drive from the airport to Tony’s house felt hours, I am so excited to see her. We facetime every day but it’s not the same and seeing each other in person. Once the rental car pulls into the long driveway leading up to one of the biggest houses I have every seen, I see Tony running down the porch. Her long, wavy, blonde hair flying behind her with the biggest smile on her face.

“Dad, can you just stop right here for me, so I can get out?” I almost whine, just as happy to see Tony and as she is to see me. Dad chuckles and bring the car to a stop long enough for me to hop out.

Tony and I clash together in a clumsy hug. “Oh God Mae, I’ve missed you!” Tony squeals, hugging me a little tighter.

“Same here, dude,” I pull away to look at her face, to see she is crying. Tony and I are so different in so many ways. She is that cute soft girl who wears skirts, always her hair done, and is emotional. Where as with me and my dark brunette hair, I like to wear worn down t shirts and shoes with denim shorts that are frayed at the end. I speak everything that comes to mind, down for almost anything, and communicating emotions is my weakness.”Lets get my shit inside so you can show me around.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and we make our way to the parked car to unpack.

~

After unpacking Tony told me about a ‘kegger’ that was going to go down near the beach called the boneyard.

“Fuck yeah, lets do it!” I say in a loud whisper so her parents didn’t hear.

Tony laughs, “just to remind you though, remember when I told you about the rival between kooks and pogues?”

“Um, yeah vaguely, why?”

“Well I live in figure eight which is technically kook territory so when going to this party to avoid any drama we should probably stick with the kooks.” Tony’s voice got quieter at the end of that sentence. She knows when she tries to give me advice I typically tend to ignore it and cause issues.

“Well,” I begin, plopping myself onto her bed, “I guess I can try, but if I remember correctly, the kooks are the one who are in the wrong most of the time?” My parents (Tony’s parents too) raised me to not see someone as a social class, judge them on how they treat you not by how much money they have.

“Yeah, normally they talk down on the pouges because they are from much less but,-”

“But that’s not cool Tony, we both know this.” I cut her off a little more harshly than intended.

“But,” Tony’s tone is desperate for me to hear her out,”I had a lot of troubles making friends and fitting in when I first came here two years ago. And I’m just starting to not be the weird new girl who sits in the art studio all day.” Tony sits down next me. “I’m not asking you to be rude or to look down on people, just to help me keep some of the friends I have finally made here.”

I let out a long sigh, “I’ll do my best.” Tony jumped from the bed and did a little victory dance, she only did this when she got her way with me. “Well, lets start getting ready.” Tony laughs as she start going my clothes to help me find something to wear.

~

As we walked down a sandy pathway through the trees, a bonfire came into view, along with a large group of people around the ages of 16 to 19. The sight of the fire inspired an idea of a drawing that I will probably start tomorrow. “where should we place our cooler?” I asked Tony.

“Looks like everyone is placing theirs over by that tree, most of the time its help yourself at these things so don’t become alarmed if you see someone getting into our cooler.” Tony shakes her finger at me knowing that I wouldn’t hesitate to confront anyone. I raise my hands up in surrender.

“I’m on my best behavior tonight.” I gave my best smile, causing Tony to giggle. “Now lets start the night off right.” Once we got our cooler placed we opened it and took out a sandwich bag that contained two limes, and our small bottle of tequila. It’s tradition for us to start our nights drinking with a shot together. Once the first shot is down we drink what we want. “Cheers,” I say then take a chug from the bottle and hand it to Tony as I bite my lime, and she does the same. Then we place the tequila back and grab ourselves a beer and walk towards the crowd of people.

Tony introduces me to a couple people she has become friends with in the last school year. They all seem nice but the entitlement that radiates off of them is insane. “So, you guys are from the same family, right?” asked one of the boys who i didn’t bother to remember his name.

“I mean, that’s what cousins normally means, right?” My tone came out harsh and Tony bumped me with her hip to remind me to play nice. The guy rolled his eyes in annoyance, causing me to raise an eyebrow. “If you don’t want a sarcastic answer don’t asked a stupid question.” I finished my beer in one big gulp.

“I was just making sure because you don’t seem to be the one who lives a life like Tony’s,” I feel Tony put her arm around my shoulder to try and calm me down, but the smug express the guy had on his face pushed me over the edge.

“Oh? Because how I look really defines my social class, right?”

“Hey, we are going to take a walk.” Tony steps between me and the guy, “Enjoy your night.” she says over her should as tony pulls me from the group.

Tony and I walk toward the coolers so I can get another beer. “can’t beleive that dick head.” I utter under my breath. Tony begins to giggle, she knows there is no point in trying to lecture me, because in the end we both know I was in the right. “Seriously Tony, I’m sorry you have to be around people like that.”

“Yeah kooks are no fun,” I turn to see a blonde guy with a red baseball cap going through coolers to find a beer of his choosing. “But at least they bring good beer.” The blonde is dressed in cargo shorts and a stretched out tank top, not khakis and polo shirts like the guys Tony had just introduced you too. I notice him make his way to our cooler. He pulled out a beer, shut the lid and used it as a seat to look at you and Tony.

“Hey, lets go back to the fire, we can get a beer in a minute.” Tony’s giggling has stopped and now she’s grabbing my arm trying to pull me away.

“Ah come on princess kook, no need to be scared.” The smirk on the guys face sent excitement through me.

“Mae,” Tony started but I cut her off.

“T, you can go back. I’ll get a beer and meet you there.” I try to sound as soft as Tony does when she tries to assure me. Tony looked at the guy then back to me. She nodded and then turned to make her way back to the group of people we were just at.

“You must not be from around here, a tourist?” The blonde pulls a lighter out of his pocket and pops open they beer. “If so, I’m as local as the come and you seem to need a guide.” He then winks and take a takes a swig of the beer. I return a smirk, trying to come off as flirty and make my way towards him.

“How often does that line work for you?”

“Well, normally tourist don’t ask that question.” as I get closer I lean down to be at the same level as him, I notice the blonde look down at my lips.

“Well I dont need a guide but,” I stand up straight and take the bottle from his hand, “for a local you are a very good host, thank you for opening my beer.” I place the bottle against my lips and take a drink.

the blonde shoots up from where he was sitting and takes the bottle back from me. “Dude find your own.”

I give him an innocent smile, “Well you see, that is mine, its from my cooler.” I take the bottle back and turn on my heels, “The name is Mae, hope to see you around blondie.”

“Wished the feeling was mutual!” The blond hollers after me then I hear slight chuckles come from him. I make my way to Tony who is now with a group of girls.

~~

A/N hey so there are probably a handful of mistakes, I was just excited to get this out. Once again, sorry for it being slow in the beginning I was trying to build Mae up so you could know her a little more. the more notes the faster the second part will come out!

UPDATE: I HAVE MOVED THIS FANFIC TO WATTPAD, HERE IS THIS LINK! LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU FOR THE NOTES!

#jj #jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj x #jj x reader #rudy pankow #north carolina #imagine #jj fanfiction #outer banks netflix #writng #TwoOfAKind

[commorsicoclub]

The First Beat (When Red met Penny)

Prequel to The Good Chase.  

(G/T soft vore. M/F. Human Prey, Giant Pred. Fearplay. Mouthplay. Belly rubs. Magic tricks. Snarky prey. Non-fatal. )

“You’ll be on your own starting tomorrow,” said the portly fellow in the driver seat. Maynard was thirty something years Red’s senior and was mere days away from his retirement. He’d been shoved onto the man last minute with vague orders to show the newbie his beat and aquatint him with the idiosyncrasies of the department. “I’ve got a few things still to wrap up before the end of it. It’s not a hard assignment. Boring really. You’ll be glad of it at first, but believe me. It gets old fast.”  

Eldridge Park was a middle class neighborhood on the west end of the city metro with its white marble apartment buildings and brownstone townhouses and tree lines streets. It was a nice place and crime was shockingly low so Red was more than a little disappointed to learn he’d been assigned to this particular precinct. He had hoped to be placed somewhere closer to the city center where they had actual crimes. Murders, arson, and armed robbery. Not petty larceny and littering. But he supposed it would look good on his record to have a year or two before jumping to another precinct.

“So, all I do is walk around the park in the middle of the night?” he asked flatly, looking out the window and then to Maynard.

“Not just the park, but that’s the better part of it,” Maynard replied. “It’s a big place, but don’t expect much real action. Worst I ever came across was a homeless fucker feeling up a girl on her way home from a late shift. Other then that, it’s just you and the humans.”

That got Red’s attention. “Humans?”

Maynard’s expression for the entirety of their shift thus far had been a placid neutrality leaning into boredom. But with this exchange, he looked at Red and grinned wickedly. “Oh yeah. Eldridge park is a hot spot.”

Red was no less enlightened. “So I’m going to be keeping hobos in check and arresting vermin.”

“You don’t arrest humans, kid,” Maynard said with a laugh. “Well, on the books we do. But there’s a lot of paperwork that goes with it, so none of us on this beat ever bother.”

“So, what do you do then?”

Maynard reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal case. He flicked it open with one fat finger and pulled a cigarette out. Holding it between his teeth, he struck a match and lit it. Only after taking a long draw from it did he looked back at Red to answer him. “You eat them.”

………………………………………….

The night was cool and crisp against his face as Red followed Maynard through the traipsing paths of the park. It was dark, but the moon was full and they had no difficulty seeing their way. He watched Maynard’s movements, noting the way the older officer walked and where his head turned to look at certain areas of the park. Old habits he’d developed over an entire career and he as eager to know them.

“They’re not too dissimilar to dwarf, but not as sweet tastin’ as elves,” he was saying. “And not as fast either.”

“And the Chief's okay with us just...eatin’ up suspects like that?”

“Humans are an invasive species, kid,” he said. “They pop through these…cripes, what the hell are they called again. Black hole kind of things. The just pop out of nowhere from some other dimension or something. Rivers can explain the science to you if you really want, but for my purposes tonight, we just gotta catch one.”

“How many do you normally find?”

“As little as one a week to as much as eight. You probably won’t see more than two a shift at most. And you better be real hungry if you get three in one night or you’ll have to file the paperwork for the one when the other two are in your belly. And they make a racket too.”

Red wasn’t unfamiliar with eating creatures smaller than himself whole and alive. He was quite partial to Elf, but the wild ones were so expensive and the farm raised just didn’t taste as good. Dwarf was all well and good, but they tended to give him indigestion. Goblins were tolerable, but they always needed a good wash before being anywhere near edible and their skin was an odd texture. They were a bit of an acquired taste and one he never really developed, even if they were the cheapest of all live prey available on the market. But he would treat himself to wild Elf on his birthday or special occasions when he could justify the hit to his wallet.  

He normally just stuck to sandwiches.

“If they’re so delicious, I wonder why no one’s tried to farm them,” Red wondered.

“Oh they’ve tried,” Maynard replied. “But they don’t reproduce as quick as other prey so the price of them once they reached eating size would be three times the price of top shelf wild Elf. That and most folks just see them as rats on two legs.”

Rev grinned. “More for us then.”

Maynard laughed and slapped the junior officer on the back. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s see if we’ve got any biters.”

Red obligingly followed his senior officer as he left the main path walked towards a cloister of bushes. Settled inside the thicker portions of the shrubbery, he saw a metal cage. It was empty and had not been tripped. The metal was dark and blended amazingly well within the bushes. He’d only seen it when Maynard pushed aside the leaves and the metal had caught the moonlight.

“I’ve got a good many of these all set up in the park. I’ve got a map in the car of where each of them are. Most human pop through confused and disorientated and try to find small hidey-holes to rest in. Most mistake these cages for a safe little place to stow away.” He looked up and grinned at Red. “Easy lunch.”

Red only nodded, feeling rather curious now. He’d had a good breakfast and he wasn’t particularly hungry, he wouldn’t refuse a little treat. The checked seventeen more traps over the course of the next five hours and none of them had been tripped. Maynard was begging to get a little impatient.

“It’s the perfect night for one to pop through,” he was muttering bitterly. “Cold clear nights are a good sign you’re gonna find one. I still have three more traps to check. Come one, rookie.”

They hit pay-dirt at second to the last trap. Even from a good distance away. Maynard spotted the his trap had caught something and he gave a gleeful hoot and waddled excitedly over. Red jogged to keep pace and could not help but privately ponder to himself that if Maynard hadn’t spent so much of his shifts stuffing himself full of humans, maybe he would be so darn fat.

His attention was abruptly pulled back when there came a shrill cry. There was a small creature inside the metal contraption and he tried to get a good look at it, but Maynard’s fat hand was pawing at it as he tried to open it up. Red was about to offer his assistance when the fat officer let out a “Ha ha!” and he wretched the little metal door open and drew out the prize from inside. The human was a pale pink color and was wearing clothing that looked much the same as an ordinary person would and it looked almost silly to behold it. But he didn’t get much of a chance to study it before Maynard held it up to him.

“Consider it a ‘welcome to the team’ treat,” he said with an oily smile. “She’s a fighter, so probably best to get her down as quick as you can.”

“Let me go, fucking piece of shit, giant ass fuck!” The human was very unhappy and was thrashing against Maynard militant hold on her, but Red was able to smell the distinct scent of fear and her and despite his curiosity to look at her more, to study her, he was all at once rather peckish. Maynard chuckled and pressed the little body into Red’s hands. “Down the hatch, rookie.”

Red laughed, swallowing the excess saliva and tipped his head back as he brought the little human up in the same gesture.

“You can’t be fucking serious right now, dude. No way. No! Holy shit, no, no, no, no, no, no, no...don’t you fucking dare!”

He ignore the panicking mantra from his lunch and slipped her feet onto his tongue. There was a sweet burst of flavor very reminiscent of elf, but it quickly faded into the more deep savory flavor more along the lines of dwarf. Oh, humans were delicious! Complex in their taste and her skin was so smooth. No where near the leathery lumpy affair that was goblin. He hummed in pleasure as he fed her upper thighs into his mouth and gave his first swallow.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, PLEASE DON’T!” Her shrill voice brought him back to reality and his eyes focused in on her face. She trembled in abject terror and struggled as much as she could given her lower half was in his gullet and her top half was firmly being held by his large fingers. He found himself smiling. It was a cruel gesture, but it was instinctual and he relished in the letting the true predator side of himself lose. He wasn’t in a fancy restaurant or a cafe where he needed to mind his manners. This was wild and free and without rules. The true manifestation of what it meant to be the top of the food chain. And Gods did he love the feeling...

He swallowed again and brought the girl’s torso into his mouth. He closed his lips around her neck and let go of her, letting her hang inside him and wiggle as much as she might. She was thicker bodied than an elf, but taller than a dwarf. A perfect middle ground of the two. He felt her little hands pressing against his lips and he almost laughed when one of her hands slipped and ended up slapping his gums. He supposed he’d tortured her enough and gulped hard twice in quick succession, sucking her down into his gullet and sending her on her way down to his belly. 

He breathed deeply now that his airways weren’t blocked and he looked to Maynard with an almost fanatical grin.

“Told you,” he said simply. “Tasty little fuckers, huh?”

“Fuck,” was all Red could manage. The human had spilled out into his belly and was now making all her complaints and protestations known by kicking and punching his insides. Such treatment was usually why he did not often partake in dwarf, but the human was no where near as strong and her strikes tickled more than anything. They were actually rather pleasant and he found himself licking his lips, trying to get one last taste of her.

Maynard laughed loudly, watching his junior partner’s sagging belly bounce and wiggle with his lunch’s frantic movements. He reached out and slapped it playfully. “How’d you like your first human, Red?”

“I think I’m a convert,” he replied, wiping the drool off the corners of his mouth.

………………………..

The human did not stop her squirming for the remainder of his shift. But by the time he slipped through his apartment door, roughly an hour later, she had gone quite and he figured she had finally succumbed to his stomach and would soon digest away like his other live meals. Though, he had to admit she had lasted a good while in there. He was almost impressed.

He pulled off his coat and shirt and sat down on his bed to pull off his boots. The maneuver required him to lean down over his own bulging belly and as he pulled off his first boot he heard it. A soft whimpering. And a voice. “..fucking stupid way to die...so fucking hot in here...can’t breathe for shit...smells like ass...”

Red started to laugh and that seemed to offend his lunch enough to spur her into one last kicking fit accompanied by a cry of, “YOU’RE A FAT FUCKING ASS HAT!”

He sat back up and looked down at his belly. “Well if I’m fat, you’re to blame.”

He wasn’t sure if her abrupt silence meant she had passed out or was too surprised to that he spoke to her to reply back. But then she did answer him.

“COUGH ME UP YOU FUCKER! YOU CAN’T GO AROUND EATING PEOPLE JUST BECAUSE YOU FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT!”

Red patted his belly, amused. “Funny you say that. Because I’m pretty sure I just did.”

She kicked him, lower than before and he winced. She’s struck a kidney or something.

“Dude!” she yelled again, but her voice had lost the volume. “Please, just...please let me out...”

“Why?” he asked, rubbing his gut in an almost affectionate manner.

“Because I don’t want to be your fucking food!”

“And yet, you are in my belly. Where food normally goes.”

“That was your mistake, not mine!” He was grinning. He’d never even spoken to his food before. More so because he didn’t speak elvish and the dwarf accents were so hard to understand that he just never bothered. And he wasn’t even sure Goblins had a real language. It was a pleasant change of pace.

“Tell you what, morsel,” he said, his voice low and almost growling. “If you can give me one reason why I should swap you out for the cold sandwich in my fridge, I’ll let you out.”

The human was silent for a moment. “...you promise?”

“Sure. I promise.”

“Like...pinkie swear and shit?”

“Well, I can’t exactly do a pinkie swear with you in there so...”

“Symbolic pinkie swear then!”  

“Okay. Symbolic pinkie swear. You just have to convince me you’re worth more alive then as lunch.”

After several moments, he felt the human suddenly shift. “Magic!” she said. “I can do magic!”

That got Red’s attention and eyed his belly dubiously. “Really now?”

“Yup! I can do magic.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I can’t show you from inside your fucking stomach now can I?!”  

Red stood up and walked to the kitchen. He flicked the light on and went to the sink. “OK. I’ll bring you out and you can do your magic, but I warn you now morsel. If you’re lying, I’m gobbling you back up and this time...” he paused. “I might just bite a little.”

It was surprisingly difficult to push his food back up once he’d swallowed it. Putting his fingers down his throat didn’t really do much other than make him wretch and his stomach clench. Which the human really did not appreciate. After the fourth failed attempt, he was ready to say fuck it and just go sit and watch TV until his belly finished her off. But he was genuinely curious now and he was spurred on more by annoyance and stubbornness than anything.

“Should...should I...like...help?” the human asked tentatively.

Red growled. “Might be nice.”

He tried one more time was shocked when he felt the warm lump push up into his esophagus. Once it had a good hold on the human, the rest went much more smoothly and after only a few moments, he felt her push up from the back of his throat and her little hands were grabbing onto his tongue and trying to pry herself out. He opened his mouth and plucked her from inside, pulling her from his jaws and setting her down onto the counter. She wobbled on her feet before falling hard onto her knees, too weak and disorientated to remain standing. Her skin was flushed and red from where his stomach acids had began to burn her and he felt a soft pang of guilt. It looked like it hurt. But he steeled himself and looked down at her with a frown.

“Alright, human. Let’s see this amazing magic of yours.” He knew some Elves could do magic and most fairies, but he had never seen any of it. Maynard hadn’t said anything about humans being able to perform magic, so maybe only some could?

The human held up both her hands, showing him the back and her palms as though to prove she held nothing. She presented the back of one hand, the thumb bent inward and used her other hand to place the tip of her other thumb so it aligned with the profile of its fellow, index finger and middle finger bent over to hide the gap. She slid the hand with the tip of her thumb visible back and forth as though she meant it as an impressive deed and the clapped her hands together and presented them both. Each hand still in possession of their thumbs.  

It was a parlor trick. A silly hand illusion to trick simple minded children that one could sever the tip of the thumb and magically reattach it with a simple wave of their hands. And almost as though to add insult to injury, the human finished their performance with a tired sounding, “Ta da.”

Red starred, expecting more and when the little human only starred back, he realized that he had been had. There was no magic. Just a magic trick, an illusion and it should have angered him. It should have made him furious and he should have devoured the wretched little liar right then and there…

...but instead he started to laugh. Loudly. He leaned back against the opposite counter and covered his face as the laughter turned into a fit of giggles and when he peeked between his fingers at the human, who was now looking at him with a fearful uneasiness, his laughter was renewed. It an absurd bargain she had made with him, betting her very life on the idea he might be impressed by such a paltry little showing. It was stupid and reckless and oddly...brave.

“S-so...” her shivering voice brought him back. “So...are you going to...let me go?”

He composed himself and regarded the little creature for a long moment and then said, “No.”

She scowled at him. “I knew it! You’re a fucking liar!”

He scoffed. “Me? What about you? That wasn’t magic.”

“It was a magic trick,” she replied firmly. “I just omitted a word. I didn’t lie.”

“Well, in any case I didn’t say I’d let you go,” he replied with a smug grin. “I said I would let you out. Never mentioned anything about releasing you or even that I wouldn’t be putting you back in later.”

The human’s scowl was gone and she bite her lip. As she began to scoot back across the counter, she started shaking in fear again. “Fucking liar...”

Red watched her shake and tremble, easily imagining she thought he meant to eat her then and there and he wasn’t in too much of a hurry to assure her of the contrary. He was having fun.

“I didn’t lie,” he purred as he loomed over her.

“You said all I needed to do was convince you I was worth more alive,” she spat, tears falling down her face now.

“And do you feel like you sufficiently did that?”

“I made you laugh,” she retorted. “Like...a lot. That should count for something, right?”

She was bargaining again, Red mused. “It was amusing, but if that’s all...”

“I didn’t say it was all,” the human snapped back. “I have more.”

Red regarded her with a flat, unimpressed look. “Oh do tell...”

“I can stick my tongue out and touch my forehead.”

Red blinked and his confused silence seemed to give the human the impression he was waiting for her display the odd quirk. But all she did was stick her tongue out at him and...touch her forehead with the index finger of her right hand.

Almost involuntarily, Red smiled and started to laugh again. He paced around the kitchen for a moment and then out into the hall before doubling back into the kitchen, laughing all the while. The human had taken his momentary absence as a chance to hide, but his kitchen countered were sparse and there were only two places to hide. Behind the toaster or inside the bread box. He could see the toaster well enough to know she was not there so he flipped open the box to see the human trying to hide under the remaining half loaf of bread. He chuckled at her and reach inside to pull her out.

She fought, but had grown very weak and could not do much of anything but smack his hand and kick her feet. “Please...please don’t kill me...”

He looked at the human and found that he didn’t want to eat her again. Not because she was not appetizing or that he wasn’t hungry, but she had succeeded in her original task; To convince him she was worth more than being his lunch. She was far too amusing a creature to sacrifice to his belly.

“I’m not going to eat you,” he said and watched her study him as though trying to figure out if she should believe him. “You’ve won your bargain, human. Congratulations.”

She sucked in a breath and shuddered, fat tears rolling down her face. “You’re not lying?”

“Nah,” he replied. “You’re a funny little thing. Might be worth keeping you around for a laugh.”

She held out her hand, little pinkie extended. “Pinkie promise.”

He eyed her. “We already did.”

“Real pinkie promise,” she said. “Promise that you aren’t lying and you won’t eat me ever again.”

He rolled his eyes, but obligingly offered his own pinkie of his free hand to her. “Fine, I promise I am not lying to you and I will not eat you ever again.” Their different sizes made it an awkward exchange, but the little human seemed satisfied enough. He sat back down on the counter and once she was standing under her own power, he grinned at her and licked his lips. “I make no such promises about eating any other humans though.”

She gaped at him, horrified. “Dude!”

He laughed and then asked, “Have a name, human? Or should I keep calling your morsel?”

“My name’s Penny,” she replied.

“Okay, Penny. I’m Red.” 

#soft vore #fearplay #non fatal vore #teasing pred #human prey #giant pred #male pred #g/t vore #vore writing #female prey #m/f vore

[winchester-fantasies]

Closer

Summary: After a less than pleasant goodbye, you run into Dean after four years and tensions are running high. Based on the song “Closer” by The Chainsmokers.

Word Count: 3033

Warnings: smut, fluff, swearing, light angst

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

Dean’s POV

     I sauntered into the hotel bar, exuding more confidence than I actually felt. This hotel was a major step up from what me and Sammy usually settled for. It felt weird. I mean, sure, the beds were freakin’ amazing, and my back hadn’t felt this damn good in...huh, I don’t even fuckin’ know, but this whole place felt stuffy. A little too good for me. I mean, even the people in this bar were highbrow, dressed in their fancy dresses and suits that would have cost me my soul to get. But me? Fuck, I stood out like a sore thumb - with my button down cargo shirt, jeans, and combat boots. I ran my hands down my shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles as I looked around, feeling like a fuckin’ fish out of water. Shit, I looked like a damn hobo.

     But Mick had insisted on staying here while we looked for Claire. This case was gonna fuckin’ kill me, and it wouldn’t be from that damn werewolf either. Sam didn’t seem to notice or even care that we didn’t fit in. Right now he was at the bar talking up some Ivy League looking dude. I didn’t understand how Sam could so easy fall into this. Maybe it was because he went to Stanford. I don’t know.

     I went to the bar and ordered a beer. The bartender cocked an eyebrow before turning to get my Corona. Maybe that’s not what fancy people ordered. Well, fuck them and fuck him, too.

     I rolled my eyes when I heard Sam’s laughter echo around the bar. Several people glanced toward him, scowling at his loudness. Fuck, Sammy, could you make it anymore awkward? I just wanted to get this case done and over with. I wanted to get back to squeaky beds, questionable rooms, and shitty water pressure.

     I glanced around, a little more self-conscious than I probably should have been. I was already tense, but my anxiety shot up even higher, and I swear my fuckin’ heart stopped for a few seconds. There she was.... That (Y/H/C) hair, those curves, that ass. God, she looked fuckin’ amazing, even better than when I last saw her. She hadn’t noticed me yet, and I used that to my advantage, watching her for a few minutes.

     She must have sensed my attention, though, because she turned, her (Y/E/C) eyes locking onto mine. My stomach knotted up at her gaze, her eyes catching the light just right, making them glitter. Recognition hit her and a wide grin spread across her beautiful lips. Damn, that mouth. I smirked and subconsciously licked my lips as I remembered just what that mouth could do.

     My own mouth went dry as I was shaken out of my thoughts. Fuck, she was making her way over! I swallowed hard, wincing. Shit, my throat felt like sandpaper. I took a swig - eh, scratch that - a big, fuckin’ gulp of my beer, trying to ease some of my discomfort, but all it did was make my mouth even more parched.

     “Dean?” she asked, a little too peppy.

     “Hey, (Y/N),” I greeted with a crooked grin as she pulled herself onto the stool beside me.

     “Wow, long time, no see. What’s it been? Four years?” she asked innocently. As if she couldn’t remember that fuckin’ emotional roller coaster.

     “Yep. Four years,” I said nonchalantly, desperately trying to cover up the feelings she was stirring up in me again.

     “Wow,” she said again. “So, what have you been up to?”

     “Hunting,” I said. “You?”

     “Hunting,” she responded, and we both nervously laughed. Awkwardness fell between us, and we both stared at the beers in our hands, not really sure what to say.

     “So what are you doing here?” she finally asked, and I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

     “Werewolf case,” I said before taking another swig of my Corona.

     Her eyes lit up. “Me, too!”

     My eyebrows shot up. “No shit. Wonder if they’re connected?”

     She shrugged. “Maybe.”

     “Maybe...maybe we could...exchange notes. See if there’s any similarities. Ya know. If you want,” I said, my eyes catching hers for a moment before looking down again at my bottle. I rubbed my hand nervously over the back of my neck. Fuck, I was acting like a kid with a schoolboy crush. I was a thirty-eight-year-old man, for fuck’s sake!

     I chanced another look at her. She was grinning, and if I hadn’t thought she was the sexiest woman on the planet, I would have laughed at her goofy grin. “Yeah, I’d...I’d like that,” she said, her voice smooth like honey.

     I smirked. “Okay, awesome.”

     She cleared her throat. “Well. It was nice seeing you again, Dean. But I better get going,” she said, sliding off the stool and grabbing her purse from the bar.

     My heart dropped at her hasty departure. “But why?” I frowned. I inwardly kicked myself at how fuckin’ needy I sounded.

     She shrugged. “I planned to meet a suspect here tonight, but I guess he changed his mind.”

     I nodded and she smiled slightly before she turned away without another word and started making her way to the entrance. I inwardly groaned as I realized I couldn’t just stay here and act like her not saying goodbye didn’t bother me. I had to make it a proper goodbye. “Can I walk you to your car?” I called after her. She stopped and turned. A slight smirk crossed her lips as she nodded.

     I followed her out, my hand instinctively going to the small of her back as we walked out the sliding doors of the hotel. She stiffened under my touch, but she didn’t pull away.

     We walked into the semi-lit parking lot, silence between us, our paces matched. Before I knew it we had reached her Land Rover, and I hadn’t even said a damn thing. We faced each other, awkwardness once again falling between us. I cleared my throat as I looked down at her. Fuck, I had to say something.

     “So.... Where’re you staying?”

     She chuckled as she jabbed a thumb toward her Land Rover. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “You’re living out of this?”

     She laughed, that beautiful sound I hadn’t even realized I missed. “Yep. Been living out of it since I left Boulder a year ago.” It really shouldn’t have surprised me. (Y/N) had always been a free spirit - a nomad. That’s what made her so perfect as a hunter.

     My breath caught in my throat as her eyes met mine. Those gorgeous, alluring orbs. I shouldn’t. I knew what would happen if I did. But I couldn’t stop. No. I was longing for a drink, and (Y/N) was the only thing that could quench my thirst.

*******************

Reader’s POV

     God, had Dean always been this fucking good-looking? you questioned. He hadn’t changed much in the four years since you’d parted ways. In fact, he looked even better if that was even possible. He had a few more wrinkles around his eyes, but you thought it made him look distinguished. Some people said men grew more handsome with age, and Dean was the epitome of that notion.

     Your heart had nearly stopped when you recognized him in the bar. Sure, it had been four years, but your feelings for him hadn’t waned. Not really. You had tried to move on, heaven knows you had tried. But you just couldn’t.

     But now Dean was here. Staring at you in the parking lot and all those old feelings you had so desperately tried to get rid of, to lock away and never take out again, came rushing back. Your stomach filled with butterflies, and you could have sworn your heart was beating so hard it would burst through your chest.

     Before you knew what was happening, Dean’s lips were on yours, fervent and bruising and filled with lust. You felt yourself give in, melting into him as his strong arms wrapped around your waist. You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. God, how you had missed his touch.

     You were both breathing heavily as you pulled away. “Shit, I’m...I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Dean said, swiping his hand over his face. “I’m...I’m gonna go.”

     He started to walk away, back toward the hotel. But you caught up to him, grabbing his arm and stopping him abruptly. He turned to look at you, his green eyes filled with a mixture of hope and disappointment. “Please don’t go,” you whispered.

     His expression changed to one of desire as he pulled you roughly toward him, your lips crashing into one another again. He backed you up until your back bumped into the cold metal of your Land Rover. Dean’s hands slid down your back and caressed your ass as the kiss deepened.

     You fumbled for the keys in you purse and unlocked the doors, your Rover beeping. You drew away from the kiss and turned to open the rear door, Dean coming behind you and pulling you back against him. He kissed your neck and you could feel his growing bulge on your lower back. “Dean,” you moaned as your hand reached up behind you, weaving your fingers through his soft hair.

     He groaned before spinning you around and hoisting you up into the rear of the vehicle. You both climbed in, Dean pulling the door closed behind him, before you settled down onto the mattress you had stuffed into the bed of your Land Rover. A spring poked you in the back and another must have done the same to Dean because he hissed in pain before sarcastically commenting on what a comfortable bed you had. You giggled before Dean’s mouth was on yours again.

     His hand slid under your shirt, his fingers brushing over your stomach. Your body contracted at his touch and Dean chuckled deeply. He pulled your shirt up and over your head then gently unclasped your bra. It was dark inside the car, but you could see just enough to make out the hunger in Dean’s eyes as his gaze roamed over your body. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered before he was once again kissing you, settling himself between your thighs, his hands moving up your sides before coming to rest on your breasts, his palms kneading the soft flesh.

     You moaned against his touch, wanting nothing more than to lose yourself in everything that was Dean, but after a few moments you gently pushed him away. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with confusion. “Hold that thought, love,” you breathed as you pecked his lips and slid out from under him. You leaned forward, your upper body now in the front seat. Dean’s hand slid over your bare back, his fingers caressing your spine, sending goose bumps rolling over your skin. You deftly turned the car on to where it was only the battery running. You switched on the radio, inserting a CD and adjusting the volume to low. Blink-182 came through the speakers, and you slid back until you were once again facing Dean. A smirk formed on his lips as the lyrics of “First Date” floated through the air.

     “Our song,” he said, his voice low and appreciative. 

     “Our song,” you repeated as Dean gently laid you back down on the mattress.

     Before you knew it, Dean had you in nothing but your panties, his own clothes long since discarded in the corner. You could feel his erection slide across your inner thigh, precum dotting your skin as he rutted against you. He groaned into your neck and your hands ran up and down his bare back. “Fuck, I missed you, baby,” he growled into your ear. He slightly shifted, biting down lightly on the anti-possession tattoo on your shoulder. You arched your back, moaning at the sensation. “Shit, (Y/N). Why’d you have to leave?”

     The arousal that had been building in your body suddenly died, and you tensed up at his words. He continued to explore your body, seemingly unaware of your sudden change in behavior. You closed your eyes, focusing on him, desperately trying to rid yourself of the bitter taste growing on your tongue.

     Dean’s fingers slid into the waistband of your panties and began to slide them down, his eyes meeting yours with a look of desire that should have had you groveling for him, but instead a sob rose from your throat, catching you off guard. 

     Dean immediately stilled, his hands moving from your body as your palms came to cover your eyes. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Dean asked in confusion and concern. When you didn’t answer, he crawled over to you, taking your hands from your eyes. “(Y/N)?”

     You bolted upright, the intimacy that had been building suddenly forgotten as you pulled your panties back up. You shook your head. “I...I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I think you’d better leave,” you said between sobs as you threw your shirt over your head.

     “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean said, reaching out and placing his large palm on your back. “What just happened?” You closed your eyes and bit your lower lip so hard you tasted blood. You didn’t want to cry anymore. You didn’t want to have to explain why you couldn’t go through with this. “(Y/N), talk to me,” Dean begged, his arm snaking around your shoulder and pulling you against his still bare chest.

     Anger suddenly replaced sadness and you violently shoved him away, his eyes widening at your outburst. “I didn’t leave you!” you shouted.

     Dean frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

     “I didn’t leave! You kicked me out, you fucking asshole,” you growled.

     Realization fell over Dean, and he sighed as his hand slid over his face. “Fuck. I knew this was gonna happen,” he muttered. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I....”

     “No, you don’t get to be sorry, Dean!” you said, cutting him off. “Do you even know how hard it was for me? You forced me out without anything. All I had was my duffle bag, a couple dollars, and that sorry excuse for a fucking car! No calls, no texts, nothing. For all I knew you were dead. I didn’t leave you, Dean. You left me!”

     Dean sat staring at you in shock, his voice catching in his throat. “I...I was in purgatory, (Y/N),” Dean finally stuttered. As if that would magically make everything better. 

     You huffed in anger. “Dean, I know.... I know you had it hard. But Dean, I had it hard, too. When Sam refused to look for you, when he shacked up with Amelia, I was there, constantly, desperately trying to find some way to get you back. I spent months, months, Dean, soaking up as much information as I possibly could. I even tried to make a deal.”

     Dean’s eyes widened at your revelation, but then his face hardened. “Why would you do something so stupid?” he growled.

     “Because I loved you, you dumbass!” you yelled, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Because even if I lost my soul, it was better than doing nothing.” You glanced away, your shoulders slumping as the exhaustion from finally spilling everything washed over you.

     Dean was silent, his gaze still intently locked onto you as you played with the skirt you had never pulled back on. The notes of another song came on, breaking the deafening silence. You sniffed and swiped the back of you hand across your nose as snot threatened to drip.

     “(Y/N),” Dean whispered. You glanced up. His eyes were tender and filled with remorse. “Baby,” he breathed as he came back to your side, his arm gingerly wrapping around your shoulder again. You didn’t fight back this time, not that you’d even have enough energy to. “I’m so, so sorry. I...I never meant to hurt you like that. I, shit, (Y/N), I had just gotten back from purgatory. I was so fucked up. Hell, I was hardly human. I was scared, still in survival mode. I had spent a year doing nothing but killing. I didn’t...I didn’t trust myself around you. Even though I was at my most primal instinct, I still knew that I loved you and that I didn’t want to hurt you. I couldn’t lose you. Not like that.”

     Your shoulders shook as another onslaught of tears washed over you. Dean pulled you against him, your head coming to his chest, your tears dotting his skin as you wrapped your arms around his waist, clinging to him as if you were about to lose your life. Dean enveloped you wholly into him as if he were afraid you would disappear if he let up even a little. Dean whispered sweet nothings, his voice cracking as years of unrequited love came rushing forth like a dam holding back too much water.

     Finally, your tears stopped. The music had long since ended and silence had fallen, the only sound being both of you breathing and Dean’s heartbeat in your ear as you and Dean held one another, not wanting to break the connection. “You can’t lose something that’s already yours,” you whispered and Dean’s grip tightened.

     He was silent for a while before he spoke. “You said you loved me.”

     “What?” you asked in confusion.

     “When you were talking about the past, when you were looking for me.... You said you loved me. Past tense.”

     You smiled before turning your head and placing a gentle kiss on his bare chest. “I love you.”    

     “I love you, too. (Y/N)...I don’t wanna let go,” he said, his voice quiet desperation.

     “Then don’t,” you said back, rising up and straddling his legs. You peppered his face with soft kisses and he melted into you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he closed his eyes against your touch.

     “I won’t,” he promised, burying his face in your neck. You smiled as he rolled you over, coming to rest between your thighs once more. “I won’t,” he repeated, his eyes swimming with love like you had never witnessed before. He smiled gently, capturing your lips in a tender kiss before feeling yourselves begin to drown in one another.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! 

**Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.                 

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #kaila writes

[bechloeislegit]

25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2019

DAY 3 - HIGH SCHOOL CHRISTMAS MUSICAL

Prompt from FanFiction User Hetwaszoietsals: HS AU, where Beca ends up singing in the Christmas show in school because of a lost bet with Stacie.

Beca Mitchell and Stacie Conrad have been best friends since the first day of kindergarten. Now, it was the first day of their Senior Year at Barden High, and Stacie was waiting for Beca next to her car. She was scrolling through her phone when she noticed a tall, hot looking blonde walking with Beca's girl crush, Chloe Beale.

"Hey, Chloe," Stacie said, raising her sunglasses to sit on top of her head. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, hey, Stacie," Chloe said. "This is Aubrey Posen, my cousin. Her family moved here over the summer. Brey, this is Stacie Conrad."

"Nice to meet you," Aubrey said.

"The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure," Stacie purred, taking Aubrey's hand in hers.

"Down, Stacie," Chloe said with a laugh. "Give her a chance to get her bearings before you sic the hunter on her."

"Oh, right, the hunter," Aubrey said, pulling her hand away from Stacie. "Chloe told me about you."

Chloe didn't hear anything else that was said. She was too busy watching Beca drive into the school's parking lot and park in her assigned spot. Seniors got all the perks.

"Give me a chance," Stacie said, pulling Chloe out of her trance.

"We'll see," Aubrey said flirtatiously. "Come on, Chloe. I still need to check-in at the office."

"Just a minute," Chloe said. "I want to say hi to Beca."

Just then, Beca came walking up to the trio. "Hey," Beca said.

"Hi, Beca," Chloe said shyly. "How was your summer?"

"Not bad," Beca said, smiling at Chloe. "How was yours? I didn't see you around much. I mean, not that I was looking for you. But, I mean, I'm sure I would have seen you, you know if you were around or whatever. But you weren't because I, uh, didn't see you."

Stacie smiled and shook her head at Beca. Beca's face was flushed, and she rubbed the back of her neck when she saw Stacie staring at her.

"I see what you mean," Aubrey whispered to Chloe. "Awkward."

"Brey," Chloe whispered, smacking the blonde on the arm. She looked at Beca and said, "Um, I spent most of the summer in Tampa with Aubrey. Oh, this is my cousin, Aubrey Posen. Aubrey, this is Beca Mitchell."

"Um, hi," Beca said. "It's nice to meet you."

"You, too," Aubrey said, before pulling on Chloe's arm. "Come one, Chloe, we need to go."

"I'm sorry, Becs," Chloe said. "I have to take Brey to the office. I'll, um, see you later?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Beca said. "I'll be here, around, for you to see. You know, later."

Beca watched as Chloe walked away with Aubrey. She blushed again when Chloe looked back over her shoulder and smiled at Beca.

"Oh, God," Beca said, dropping her head onto Stacie's shoulder. "I sounded so lame."

"Yes, you did," Stacie said. "You really did. You need to up your game if you're ever going to get Chloe to go out with you."

"I've known her as long as I've known you, and I still can't talk to her with turning into a bumbling idiot," Beca said as she started walking toward the school entrance. "And no matter how much I want her to, she doesn't see me in that way."

"Oh, my poor delusional, Becs," Stacie said, dropping her arm around Beca's shoulders. "She likes you. She even gave you a new nickname. Trust me; the hunter is never wrong."

"Gross, dude," Beca said. "I wished you'd stop calling your girl parts the hunter."

"Girl parts? It's called a vagina, Beca," Stacie said. "You've taken anatomy; you should know this."

"I hate you," Beca said, blushing.

"No, you don't," Stacie said, laughing as they entered their first class of the day.

~ Day 3 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases~

"Okay," Stacie said as she and Beca joined Chloe and Aubrey at their lunch table. "Do you agree to the bet?"

"What bet?" Chloe asked.

"I bet Beca that I could stuff thirty marshmallows in my mouth," Stacie said.

"Why?" Aubrey asked.

"These two are always making weird bets," Chloe responded.

"So, Beca," Stacie said, looking at Beca. "Is it a bet or not?"

"I think you're crazy," Beca said. "But, I agree to the bet." They shake on it, and Beca smiled. "I am so going to be using your parking space for the rest of the year."

"We'll see," Stacie said.

Chloe looked at Stacie. "What do you get if you actually do it?"

"Beca has to audition for the Christmas Musical," Stacie said with a big grin.

"Oh, my gosh, Becs," Chloe said, excitedly. "You should totes audition. I keep trying to get you to, but you never do."

"If, and this is a big IF, Stacie can stuff thirty marshmallows in her mouth, I'll do it," Beca said. "But if not, that would be a big fat NO for me trying out."

"What's the Christmas Musical?" Aubrey asked.

"Every year, we have a program where the students sing Christmas songs," Stacie said. "Chloe is so good that she doesn't have to audition. She needs to tell Mrs. Davis what song she wants to sing, and she's in."

"You should audition, Aubrey," Chloe said.

"Sounds like fun," Aubrey said. "I'll do it."

Chloe looked at Beca. "I wish you'd audition, too, Becs. It would be so much fun."

"Maybe for you," Beca said. "For me, not so much."

Chloe's face fell, and Stacie gave Beca a look.

"What?" Beca mouthed to Stacie.

Stacie nodded her head toward Chloe. Beca furrowed her brow and looked at Chloe. She realized then that she might have hurt Chloe's feelings.

"Um, Chlo, I"m sorry," Beca said. "I didn't mean you wouldn't be fun. I meant that it's not my thing. I'm not one for singing in front of people and stuff."

"That's okay, Beca," Chloe said with a small smile. "Um, I need to go. I have to stop at my locker to get my stuff for my next class."

Chloe stood, and so did Aubrey. "I'll go with you."

The two left, and Beca dropped her head on the table with a thunk. "I'm such an idiot."

"Yes, you are," Stacie said. "You really are. So, I'm going to fix this for you by winning the bet."

"Oh, God," Beca mumbled.

~ Day 3 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases~

A week later, Beca is sitting with Stacie, Chloe, and Aubrey in the auditorium waiting their turn to audition for the Christmas Musical.

"I can't believe you're making me do this," Beca scoffed.

"You lost the bet," Stacie said. "You should know better than to bet against me, Beca."

"I, for one, am glad you're here," Chloe said with a smile toward Beca.

"Does everyone have to sing the same song?" Aubrey asked.

"Yes," Stacie said. "This year, it's Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas."

"It is?" Beca said, sitting up and looking at Stacie. "I didn't know that."

"But, you know the words, right?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Beca said. "This is going to suck so bad."

"I thought you didn't have to audition, Chloe," Aubrey said.

"I don't," Chloe said. "I like to watch everyone else."

Mrs. Davis stood and addressed everyone waiting to audition. She mentioned the song and that they only needed to sing the first two verses to save time. She called up the first name on her list, and auditions began.

Beca was getting nervous and started bouncing her leg up and down. She watched as Stacie and then Aubrey finished their auditions.

"Beca Mitchell," Mrs. Davis called out from her seat at the piano.

Beca's face paled. She stood and made her way to the stage.

"Relax, Beca," Mrs. Davis said. "Start singing, and I'll let you know when to stop. Okay?"

Beca nodded and took a deep breath. She let it out, and Mrs. Davis started playing.

"Um, Mrs. Davis," Beca said, causing Mrs. Davis to stop playing. "Could you slow it down just a bit?"

"Of course," Mrs. Davis said and smiled.

The music started, and Beca began singing. After a few notes, everyone got quiet as they listened.

Beca looked around as she sang and caught Chloe smiling at her. She relaxed a bit more and continued the song.

After the second verse, she noticed Mrs. Davis making a motion for her to continue, so she did.

The song ended, and it was quiet except for a "Wow!" that came from Mrs. Davis. Suddenly, everyone started clapping.

Beca's face was redder than it's ever been as she hurried off stage. When she got back to the girls, Chloe pulled her into a tight hug.

"Beca, that was amazing," Chloe gushed.

"That was incredible," Aubrey said.

"Told you," Stacie said with a smug grin.

~ Day 3 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases~

A week later, Mrs. Davis posted the names of the students chosen for the Christmas Musical. Chloe was electric with excitement when she and Aubrey met Beca and Stacie in the cafeteria for lunch.

"Congratulations, everyone," Chloe said as she sat across from Beca. "I can't believe we're all going to be in the Christmas Musical together. What song are you planning to sing? I want to do White Christmas. Or maybe something more traditional like Silent Night."

"I don't know," Beca said, not looking too happy.

"What's wrong, Beca?" Chloe asked.

"I really don't want to do this," Beca said, running a hand through her hair.

"Come on, Beca," Stacie said. "It's going to be fun."

"Yeah, Beca," Chloe said.

"Beca, you have a beautiful voice," Aubrey said. "Why don't you want to share your gift?"

"Ah, just the two girls I was looking for," Mrs. Davis said as she stood by their table. "Beca, I was blown away by your audition. If I had known you could sing like that, I would have had you singing in every Christmas Musical."

"Thanks," Beca mumbled.

"That being said," Mrs. Davis continued, causing Beca to look up at her. "I would like for you and Chloe to sing a duet. I'll let you decide the song."

"Oh, my," Chloe said, her eyes alight with excitement at the thought of singing with Beca.

"What do you say, Beca?" Mrs. Davis asked.

Seeing the hopeful look on Chloe's face, Beca had no choice.

"Um, yeah, sure," Beca said. "I'll sing something with Chloe."

"Splendid," Mrs. Davis said. "Rehearsals start after the Thanksgiving break. I'd like to know what song you've chosen before then. And, I'm having you two close the show."

Chloe's eyes widened. "We got the finale, Becs! That's, wow. Thank you, Mrs. Davis."

"Yeah, um, thanks, Mrs. Davis," Beca said.

"Congratulations, you two," Stacie said.

"I'm happy for you both," Aubrey said with a big smile.

"Well, I must run," Mrs. Davis said. "Make sure you get me your song before the break."

"We will," Chloe said.

Mrs. Davis smiled and left the girls.

"Wow, Beca," Stacie said. "Your first time and you get to close the show."

"Is that a big deal?" Beca asked.

"Yes, it's a big deal," Chloe said, surprised Beca didn't know how big a deal it is. "The finale is saved for the best song or singer. I did the finale my first year, but someone else has done it the past two."

"That's because Mrs. Davis wanted to give someone else a chance," Stacie said. "Everyone knows you'd do the finale each year if it were solely based on who was the best singer."

Chloe blushed. "Thanks, Stacie."

"What song do you think you'll do?" Aubrey asked.

Beca shrugged. "Chloe can decide."

"We'll decide together, Becs," Chloe said. "Plan to be at my house on Saturday. We can look through songs and see which one we want to sing."

"Okay," Beca said. "I'll be there."

"I have to go," Chloe said. "I need to return a library book before my next class. Aubrey, do you want to go with me so we can walk to class together?"

"Sure," Aubrey said and stood to follow Chloe out of the cafeteria.

"So, you have a date with Chloe on Saturday," Stacie said when she and Beca were alone.

"Not a date, Stacie," Beca said. "Just going to go through songs and finding one to sing."

"Well, I predict that it will lead to you two dating," Stacie said.

"That is highly doubtful," Beca said.

"I have a feeling about his, Beca," Stacie said. "You'll have to rehearse, which means you'll be spending a lot more time together. I think this is exactly what you need for you and Chloe to become a couple."

"I hope you're right," Beca said. "But I don't see it happening."

"Stop being so down on yourself," Stacie said. "You're a great catch, and if you would just give her a chance, I know that Chloe would be more than happy to be the one to catch you."

"I have to get to class," Beca said and left Stacie sitting alone.

~ Day 3 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases~

By the last class of the day, Stacie had decided she needed to do something to help Beca and Chloe get together. As soon as she entered the room, she looked at Aubrey. She smiled and walked over and sat next to her.

"We need to talk," Stacie said.

"We do?" Aubrey asked, raising an eyebrow at Stacie. "What about?"

"Beca and Chloe," Stacie said.

"What about Beca and Chloe?"

"We need to get them together."

"I'm listening."

"So, you're okay with them being together?" Stacie asked, surprised at how quickly Aubrey agreed.

"Beca is all Chloe talked about when she was visiting over the summer," Aubrey said. "I probably know as much about her as most people around here. And the way Beca looks at Chloe, I'd kill to have someone look at me like that."

"So, you'll help me?" Stacie asked with a smile.

"I will," Aubrey said. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just talk to Chloe about Beca," Stacie said. "Tell her Beca likes her, and you think Chloe should go for it and ask her out."

"What are you going to do?"

"Talk to Beca about Chloe," Stacie said. "If we bug them enough, one of them will ask the other out just to get us to shut up about it."

Aubrey smiled. "I like the way you think."

~ Day 3 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases~

It was a week before the performance, and Stacie had been cornering Beca every chance she could to talk about Chloe. Beca was nearing the end of her rope.

"Just leave it alone, Stacie," Beca said, her agitation showing.

"I can't," Stacie said. "You two belong together. She's the mac to your cheese. You're the peanut butter to her jelly."

"I have to rehearse," Beca said and stomped away from Stacie.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the auditorium, Chloe and Aubrey were talking. Chloe's brows furrowed as she watched Beca stomp away from Stacie. She got up, and Aubrey stopped her.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to check on Beca," Chloe replied. "She looked upset."

"Maybe you can comfort her and who knows where that might lead," Aubrey said.

"God, do you ever let up?" Chloe said, sighing heavily. "You've been at me for weeks now about Beca. It's not going to happen because we're friends and nothing more."

"A little birdie told me she likes you," Aubrey said. "A lot."

"Was that little birdie Stacie?" Chloe asked. "You're both seeing something that's not there. So, please, let it be."

Chloe walked away to find Beca since it was almost time for them to rehearse their song. She went backstage and found Beca sitting with her back against a wall.

"Hey," Chloe said, sitting down next to Beca.

"Hey," Beca said.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked. "You looked upset when you left Stacie."

"Yeah," Beca said. "I'm fine. Stacie won't leave me alone about-. Never mind, it's nothing."

"You can tell me, Beca," Chloe said.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything."

"Do you, um, like me?"

Chloe chuckled. "Of course, I like you, Beca. You're one of my best friends."

"No," Beca said, shaking her head. "I mean, do you like me, like me? Stacie's been messing with my head and telling me that you like me. And I don't know what to think."

"Brey's been telling me the same thing about you," Chloe said, trying not to get her hopes up.

"Yeah?" Beca said. "If they're both bugging us, maybe there is something here. Do you think you could like me enough to, um, go on a date with me?"

"I definitely like you enough to go on a date with you," Chloe said with a big smile.

"You do?"

"Yes, I do."

"Wow," Beca said and smiled. "I guess Stacie knew what she was talking about."

"I guess Aubrey did, too," Chloe said.

Both girls sat there lost in thought. Chloe was trying to decide if she should kiss Beca; Beca was trying to figure out where to take Chloe on their date.

Beca looked to her left and saw Aubrey and Stacie talking and looking around. She figured they were looking for her and Chloe.

"We can't tell them," Beca blurted out. "Not yet, anyway. I'll never hear the end of it from Stacie."

"And I'll never hear the end of it from Aubrey," Chloe said.

"So, we'll date," Beca said. "But in secret."

"I like that," Chloe said. "Sounds very romantic."

"Beca Mitchell and Chloe Beale," Mrs. Davis' voice called out from the stage.

"We have to rehearse," Beca said as she stood.

Beca held her hand out to Chloe. Chloe took it and allowed Beca to pull her up. They ended up flush against each other, and before they knew it, they were kissing.

"Um," Beca said and cleared her throat. "We should, uh, go."

"Okay," Chloe said. "Can we do that again later?"

"Absolutely!" Beca said with a smile as they hurried to the stage.

~ Day 3 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases~

Beca and Chloe managed to keep their dating secret until the Christmas Musical. It was on that night, after the show was over, that Beca met Chloe outside the school to take her home.

Beca made it to the car first and laughed when Chloe came running toward her and didn't stop until she had pushed Beca up against the car.

"Hello to you, too," Beca laughed, holding Chloe around the waist. "Did you eat too many cookies? Are you on a sugar high?"

"Nope," Chloe said, giving Beca a quick kiss. "I'm on a Beca high. I'm addicted to your kisses, and I need a fix."

"I really shouldn't enable your addiction," Beca said, pulling back slightly from Chloe. "But, I'd be punishing myself if I didn't give in."

The two started kissing, and it morphed into a heavy makeout session.

"What the Hell?!" Stacie screamed when she saw the pair.

Beca and Chloe jerked apart and looked sheepishly at Stacie.

"Um, hey, Stace," Beca said, hiding behind Chloe.

"How long has this been going on?" Stacie asked.

"Um, a week," Beca said.

"A week?!" Aubrey's voice yelled out of the darkness, startling both Beca and Chloe.

"Shit, Aubrey," Beca said. "You scared the Hell out of us. Where'd you come from?"

"We're sorry, okay?" Chloe said, looking at Stacie and Aubrey. "I mean, we really like each other, and when we got together, we didn't want to hear you guys saying I told you so, so we decided to keep it to ourselves."

"I guess our plan worked," Stacie said with a smug grin.

"I guess it did," Aubrey said. "Merry Christmas, you two."

Beca and Chloe laughed. "Merry Christmas."

"Now that we got these two together," Stacie said, looking at Aubrey. "Maybe we should talk about us getting together."

"I'm listening," Aubrey said, smiling.

The two walked off talking, and Chloe looked at Beca.

"So, about my addiction," Chloe said, leaning in to kiss Beca.

#bechloe fanfiction #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale

[azritesx3]

“A Devil’s Love” Chapter 1: All Bad Things, I Promise

Description: Chloe's best friend is back, and Lucifer's charm can't seem to affect her either. Is she also a miracle child? Or something...more? [Story starts during S2 Ep4, Female Reader Insert]

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AN: Updated March 14, 2020 - Grammar AN: Updated July 14, 2020 - Grammar

Rating: G Warnings: None

Show Timeline: Season 2 episode 4

Spotify Playlist /// AO3 Fanfiction Net Wattpad DeviantArt

Tag List: @ayanna-wild​, @anushay1998, @emiwrites3reads​, @i-am-canada-13​, @heart-of-pots-and-pans​, @tinyybiceps, @jessicarene99​, @lucifersnipnips​, @givemebooksorgivemedeath​, @sailor-earth-1

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“Ladies and Gentlemen! We have arrived at our destination at the Los Angeles International Airport. We hope you enjoyed your flight and hope you ride with us again!” A smack to your chest wakes you from a deep slumber.

“Ms. Earth! We've landed. Can we please hurry off this plane?” your assistant, Alice Green, pleads to you.

“Geez, Ali,” you groan while stretching in your very comfy first-class seat, “The whole reason I got us first class was so you'd be more comfortable.”

“Over 6 hours, Ms.”

You yawn, “Alright, alright. Let's get off. I'm eager to go too, actually.” You give Alice the shooing motion and she's more than happy to oblige.

After grabbing your luggage from the always too fast conveyor belt, you treat Alice to the most elegant airport food you can imagine: McDonald's. As she went to town on her banquet you call a cab to pick you up in thirty minutes, then stare at a blank text message screen.

“You ok?” Alice asks after swallowing a mouth full of chicken nuggets.

“You know, it amazes me how you can eat like a potbelly pig and still be a size three,” Alice raises an eyebrow at you while stuffing more in her mouth. You sigh, “Should I text her now? Or just surprise her at work?”

“You've told me before that she usually doesn't like to be interrupted when on duty.”

“Yeah, you're right.” You start to form a devilish grin on your face and place your phone back in your purse, “Her job it is then!”

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“Seriously, Detective! Name three friends you could have drinks with right now,” Lucifer Morningstar pokes at Detective Chloe Decker.

“Well, I can't name three,” replies Chloe rolling her eyes, “I can name one, but she's on the other side of the country.” She pulls the car up to the crime scene and parks.

“Wait, you actually have a friend?” Lucifer smiles cockily. Chloe gives him an annoyance stare then gets out of the car, walking quickly inside the crime circle.

“Well, you need to make more friends! Especially since now I know it seems you're capable of doing so." Lucifer, very easily with his long legs, strides right next to her, “Stress is a terrible ager, Detective. Go to a bar, get drunk, and talk about your woes to the patrons! I promise it'll make you feel better.”

“Talk about my impending divorce and possible homelessness with an eight-year-old daughter to complete strangers? Yeah. Sounds super relaxing.”

“Doesn't it?” Lucifer smiles that grin again and Chloe responds with a pissed-off expression. Thankfully, Detective Dan Espinoza cuts in with the crime details.

“We've got a young female. COD unknown.” Dan looks back and forth between Lucifer and Chloe before settling on her.

“ID?”

“None,” Dan says with a sigh, “No personal belongings. Only thing of note is a triangular ink stamp on the inside of her wrist.”

“Oh wait, I think I can actually help here!” Lucifer stops the men carrying the woman's body and points to the stamp, “This is a very common thing you'd see at a nightclub. You know,” Lucifer looks at Chloe and raises his brows, “where people go to have fun.”

“And then get killed. Yeah, mhm.” Chloe shakes her head at her partner.

“Well, that part usually doesn't happen.” Lucifer pulls his phone out, all attention now on the tiny device.

“We did find an abandoned vehicle registered as an Uber.” Dan steps in, “No driver.”

Chloe nods in thought, then grabs Lucifer's phone and starts searching, “I was searching safe nightclubs for you Detective! Other than my own, of course.”

“Uber IDs are usually linked to the driver's phone,” Chloe says, ignoring Lucifer, “not the car, and now we've got his number...Looks like our guy is on the corner of Crescent & Third.”

“Impressive.” Lucifer smiles down at his partner.

“Yeah, it's called police work,” Chloe replies, hiding a smile as she hands him back his phone.

Lucifer places the phone in front of his mouth, “Let's solve a murder!” “I can assist you with that.” “Ha! You have to love these things!”

“Lucifer-” but before Chloe could scold him one of the K9s on scene starts to bark. The three of them look over in that direction and see an officer having trouble controlling the dog.

“I thought those things were supposed to be trained.” Lucifer cringes.

“That's Buster. Just turned a year old and still training.” Dan answers. The poor officer can't control Buster any longer, and the dog snaps free and runs to an approaching party.

“Oh my-” Chloe's eyes go wide.

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“Well hey there little guy!” You smile as Buster jumps on you and licks your face. Alice smiles and softly laughs, “You completely ruined my cover, dude! I was planning on sneaking up on my old BFF.” Buster whines softly, “Aw, it's not a problem bud. Now go back to your officer.” You point towards the officer, who looks completely embarrassed, and Buster follows your command.

You look to Chloe, smile and wave, “Hey Chlo-Chlo! Long time no see, huh?”

“Earth?!” Chloe gets the biggest smile on her face and rushes over to you. The two of you have what looks to be the biggest, and tightest, hug in the world.

“Well I'll be damned,” Dan says softly, then smiles and walks towards the trio of women. Leaving behind a very confused Devil.

“What are you doing here, Earth?!” Chloe smiles and holds onto your hands.

“Business over in New York is in good hands now. So I figured, why not open up a vet on the other side of the country too?” You smile and squeeze Chloe's hands, “Plus I get to be back home, work on my K9s again, oh yeah! And be with my BFF.” Chloe smiles and embraces you once more.

“Hey, Earth,” Dan comes up and holds out his hand, “It's good to see you back.”

“Daniel,” you accept his handshake and respond coolly, “You're lucky you brought Trixie into the world. Otherwise, I'd be living up to the threat I gave you at the wedding.”

“Yeah…”

Lucifer coughs.

“Oh, right,” Chloe composes herself, “Earth, this is Lucifer Morningstar the LAPD civilian consultant.”

“And her partner,” Lucifer smiles at you and holds out his hand.

“Ah, so you're the weirdo who thinks he's the Devil!” You smile back and accept his handshake, “Chloe's told me a lot about you. All bad things, I promise.”

“Is that so?” Lucifer's smile grows, “Well I wish I could say the same about you my dear, but I'm afraid the Detective has never mentioned you. Well,” Lucifer side glances to Chloe, “not until the ride over here.”

“Perfect timing then,” you reply, “and I'm not surprised she hasn't talked about me. She's very hush-hush about her childhood.”

“Yes, I've noticed that.”

“Earth!” Chloe eagerly moves the conversation in another direction, “Who's your friend?”

“This is my rising prodigy and assistant, Alice Green!” You properly introduce her to everyone.

“It's nice to meet you all!” Alice shakes everyone's hand, lingering longer on Lucifer.

“Nice to meet you too, darling.” Lucifer smiles seductively at your assistant, and you can see her blush.

“So!” You clap your hands together loudly, knocking Alice out of her daze, “I just came to say I'm back. Go on, go back to your investigation.” You make the shooing motion once more, “We're going to head to our hotel and get some rest. Going back in time is sooo draining. Text me when you're done and free to hang out, Chloe!” You wave your goodbyes then push Alice back to the cab.

“Well, Detective,” Lucifer smiles down at her, “Looks like you've got no excuse now not to go have fun.”

“Looks like it.” Chloe smiles back.

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The music's popping in Lux. People dancing, talking, and making-out all around the place. Everyone looks to be having the time of their life.

All except for a certain Detective who has yet to de-stress.

“...there was tissue damage to Daria's stomach lining caused by liquid nitrogen, the stuff that makes those fancy cocktails smoke. It's probably how she ingested the poison-”

“Amazing work as always Detective,” Lucifer interrupts her, “but you just made my trio sha-bang run away.” Lucifer looks longingly at the trio of beautiful women who are no longer in his arms.

“Second,” Chloe continues like she hasn't even heard him, “I assumed that Daria was at a club on Gower and we found an abandoned building on the corner. The place looked like it had a party recently.” Chloe moves over to one of the small tables by the bar as she talks, looking over the paperwork.

“Fascinating,” Lucifer says sarcastically, following her.

“I was wondering if you could make some phone calls to help me out?” Chloe looks to Lucifer, “You know, since you seem to have your fingers on the pulse.”

“I'd much rather be pulsing-”

“I know that hood.” Mazikeen Smith, Lucifer's demon bodyguard, was listening in from the bar, “There's a great tiki bar across the street from that building. I know the bartender.” Maze downs her drink.

“I'm not surprised.” Chloe shakes her head.

“Let's go have a drink there. Ask about the dead girls.” Maze pushes.

“That sounds like a very good lead, Detective!” Lucifer's smile practically covers his entire face.

“Did I just hear you guys talk about that tiki bar on Gower?” Ella Lopez, an LAPD forensic scientist, comes back from dehydrating in the bathroom, “I love their pina coladas!”

“See that Detective?” Lucifer smiles at Chloe as he takes a swing of a drink a waiter just gave him, “Why don't you text that lovely friend of yours too?”

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“Got to say, I'm surprised you guys didn't realize that this was Chloe's idea of a ‘girls night'.” You sit next to Maze and Ella, who Chloe briefly introduced you to before she ran off to ask questions of the patrons about her case.

Maze's eye roll was practically a growl, and Ella just smiles and shrugs her shoulders while she finishes her second pina colada.

“Well, I did manage to gain some new info.” Chloe finally returns to the bar and sits next to you. She opens up her case file and starts to go through the papers again, “The bartender said something was going on in that building. I put a call in for a warrant to the judge. Just waiting to hear back.”

“Great,” Maze forces a smile and shoves Chloe's abandoned drink into her hand, “have a drink!”

“Uh, no. I think I'm going to call it a night,” Chloe starts to pack up her paperwork, but you grab her left wrist to stop her.

“But I just got here!”

“Sorry, Earth...look we can-”

“Hey ladies.” Dr. Linda Martin, the Devil's therapist, gives a concerned smile as she sits next to Chloe.

“Linda?” Chloe looks shocked, “What are you doing here?”

“Maze texted me saying it's girls night.” Chloe looks over at Maze who just shrugs and motions again to the abandoned drink.

“Sorry Linda, but-”

“Oh no no no, now I'm stepping in!” You snap and Chloe looks at you, “Look Chloe, you've done all you can for tonight, and I know you've got a lot on your mind right now. Your weird partner is right.” You put a hand on Chloe's shoulder and squeeze, “You need to have fun and relax.”

“I agree.” Linda nods and you two formally introduce each other while Maze and Ella both share their agreement. Defeated, Chloe sighs, sits down, and slowly starts to sip her drink.

For a first night out since being back in LA, you aren't surprised that it turned into a bar fight. First it started slow, with the group sharing something about themselves or what was on their mind, and that seemed to make Chloe more comfortable. Then two drinks became four, and you find yourself singing terrible karaoke with the girls even though you only drank water. Maze tried to make you drink and you responded with, “You're here to get Chloe drunk, not me. I saw that phone picture to him.” Which seemed to shut her up, but she glared at you the rest of the night.

The fight broke loose when the detective in Chloe came back in full force. She noticed some slum of a guy with the same triangular stamp on the wrist and brought him over to question with Ella. Then, the slum's girlfriend comes up and just punches Chloe. You and Maze didn't stand for that and started fighting the people in the bar, while Linda hid under the bar table and Ella splashed water on people. When everything finally calmed down Maze stopped glaring at you and instead gave you a look of approval for your fighting skills.

Chloe got even more info on her case from the slum. He said the place he got the stamp was a sex club party that always moves to different places each night.

As the group dispersed, Chloe stopped you and said she will text you to meet at her mom's when she's officially over with the case.

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“I can't believe it was all a setup!” Chloe complains while she pours you and her a glass of water. You take a sip of the water and continue to listen to her ranting, “‘You need to go make friends, Detective’,” Chloe mocks Lucifer's voice, “‘Go get drunk and forget about your woes’,” Chloe sighs and slumps into the couch next to you, “Now, thanks to that drunkenness, I'm going to have Maze as a roommate.”

“I don't think it's so bad.”

“You've only known Maze for a night, and you can basically grasp her personality from that.”

“Aw, come on Chlo!” You nudge her leg with your own, “Yeah she seems kind of...scary, but she's an amazing fighter. Good protection for you and Trixie,” you take another sip of water, “and besides,” you wrap an arm around Chloe's shoulder, “Lucifer may have set it up, but you did have fun and de-stressed right?”

Chloe sighs and lays her head on your shoulder, “Yeah, I did.”

“See?” You smile and rest your head on hers, “And now you have a good group of girls to have drinks with on your own. You know…” You swirl your water in the glass, “I was scared when you told me about your new partner. I thought, ‘How could a guy who calls himself the Devil be good for my Chlo?’” You sit up and look Chloe in the eyes, “But I think...he's actually a good guy. A nice guy.”

“Yeah,” Chloe smiles warmly at you, “he is.”

“Good.” You cough, “So,” you place your water on the coffee table, “is it more than just partnership?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

Chloe laughs at you and smacks your arm, “No! Absolutely not!” You both have a good laugh before settling down.

You two talk for an hour before Chloe informs you she has to go pick up Trixie from school. You both say your goodbyes at the door, but Chloe stops you:

“Hey, Earth?” She looks and sounds concerned.

“Yeah?” You look back at her through the doorway.

“You sure you'll be alright coming back here? I mean…”

“Don't worry, Chloe."  You give her a reassuring smile, “I've dealt with my demons.”

“Okay, good, but you know if you ever need someone to talk to come to me.” Chloe smiles then looks like a light bulb clicked on in her head, “Or if you need a new therapist, I do recommend Linda. It may not seem like she's good since she's his therapist and he still insists on being the ‘Devil’, but she has helped Lucifer with other problems.”

“Thanks, Chlo. I'll think about it.” You smile and wave before you head to your rental and she to her own car.

“Yeah,” you say to yourself as you start up the engine, “it's good to be back.”

#a devil's love #lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer #fanfic #fanfiction #azritesx3 #azookiex3

[youarejesting]

BTS365

[Masterlist] Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester.

Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

Announcement: 600+ followers and I’m sorry to how dark some of these got but you know I kind of like when stories don’t always have a happy ending.

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    March 25th - April 1st

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Kim Seokjin: Makeup

Heading into work you had a headache, it was excruciating, the throbbing behind your eye and the tightness around your temples. Your face felt swollen, and you packed on as much makeup as physically possible and you knew it wasn’t a good look. There were no lashes or mascara, no eyeshadow, no lipstick. Just concealer and foundation to the max. 

You stepped into work and the receptionist gave you a weird look, usually; you got compliments when you wore makeup; you were pretty good and knew what worked well on your face. But today you looked strange. Your eye was too swollen to put anything near it and so you just looked like a one tonne alien. 

“Hey babe, what’s going on?” A voice said, “you bailed on our movie night last night and didn’t even text me?” Seokjin was your saviour he made your dull job manageable. He took one look at you and froze he knew this wasn’t right. “What did he do?”

“It’s not that bad it’s just a bump”

He dragged you by the hand to his desk taking his face wipes from the first draw he tried to grab your chin, but you turned away. “Please let me see” he gently wiped away all the makeup he liked when you had a clean face. It was like he was seeing the real you, that isn’t to say he didn’t like when you dressed up, he liked how you could accentuate your eyes and lips. 

But this, this was wrong. He felt sick, the more he removed the more the colours were revealed dark purples and blues stained your smooth skin, there was a small scab on your cheekbone where the skin had split on impact. He shoved the packet of wipes into your arms and turned declaring. “I will kill him”

Min Yoongi: On a stick

“It’s just meat on a stick?” You rolled your eyes at your best friend who was being lured from his apartment from his roommate Jungkook. You had planned to spend the afternoon together where you were going to tell him how you feel about him finally after all these years. Hell, you even stood by him when he dated girls through high school even though it nearly killed you.

“Yeah, why do you make it sound like a bad thing?” Yoongi scoffed grabbing his jacket, “Come along we can get some food and come back and watch the movie”

“Look you don’t have to come, we don’t need haters ruining our dinner” Jungkook sighed grabbing his keys, and you reluctantly slipped on your shoes and coat running after them. You didn’t even order before you snapped.

“Jungkook what is your problem with me, I just wanted to spend the afternoon with my best friend and maybe tell him that I have been in love with him since fifth grade and you’re out here making me feel like absolute trash,” You hissed Yoongi was frozen starring at his menu. He looked like he was deep in thought. Realizing what you said and how he had reacted to your blunt and unexpected confession you left.

“y/n!” Jungkook shouted he caught you quickly “hey, dude I am sorry, I thought you liked me and I was trying to push you away because… Yoongi likes you, said he has liked you since fifth grade and has never wanted to ruin the friendship. I really am sorry, go back inside he is in shock and is silently freaking out that he will never see you again. Lunch is on me, here”

Jung Hoseok: Smoke and Mirrors

Your son wanted to be a magician, and you spent a fair amount of money on all the books and toys and such but as his passion grew so did the hole in your bank account. You bought him front row tickets to see a world-renowned magician live on stage. It was an amazing performance. The magician was very good looking and was so bright and bubbly he danced he made all the sound effects. Your son insisted you see him backstage, and you took him back there. It took a long time but your son refused to leave. The dressing room door opened and there he was, his shirt buttons undone slightly. 

“Why hello, who do we have here?” he smiled at you and your son and you gave him an apologetic smile

“I am so sorry to bother you, my son, he is an aspiring magician and well he wanted to meet you and I really couldn’t say no to at least trying”

“No, don’t apologize,” he looked at his watch and grinned, “I got time, come in and sit and tell me about yourself. What’s your name? Do you know any tricks?” The two talked until your son had fallen asleep on the couch.

“Whatever you did, that’s real magic right there,” The two of you laughed.

“Do you need help to your car, he looks a little heavy, or I can carry your bags if that’s more comfortable for you,” He smiled and the two of you headed to the parking lot. Buckling your son into the passenger seat, you turned to say goodbye, and he swept his hand behind your ear. “It seems my number was behind your ear this whole time”

He placed the paper into your hand and gave you a grin, one hand slipping into his pocket to find his keys and the other waving goodbye.

Kim Namjoon: Walk in the Park

Namjoon was a smart man, he knew everything that happened in the neighbourhood. The street lights along the park path flickered off for twenty seconds every three minutes. The old lady Lady by the store shut her curtains at 6:15 exactly after watching her shows and feeding her cat. The walk through the park took Five minutes exactly, and that there were three security cameras on the path.

People were going missing and were usually found dead days later. He set off on his usual walk at 6:00 heading to the store; he stopped to pat the cat and waved to the old woman. He bought a single bottle of Soju as he did every night. Explaining how he had to get home before his slow cooker was finished, showing the timer on his phone. “It’s got 8 minutes left I should make it home by 6:15” 

Walking he saw you alone, he sped up a little and matched your stride. “Don’t look now but there is a drunk man a little way ahead, and the path lights are switch off for about thirty seconds every three minutes” Just as he finished his sentence the lights switched off. You grew stiff under the moonlight. “I am Namjoon”

He continued walking talking to you about the stars, the old lady was feeding her cat before bed, it was 6:10 she would soon close her curtains. He waved to the old and then to you. Thanking him for the help you both parted ways saying goodnight to the old lady. Namjoon smiled to himself walking out of the camera frame and the lights flickered out. You walked hesitantly in the dark but didn’t get very far before you were knocked out from behind.

Chained to an old metal bed frame when you woke, your eyes needing time to refocus you saw Namjoon standing there in a white coat. “Shh it’s okay, you are okay, you see I am an expert. My alibi and the camera footage, I just picked you up and tipped you over the stonewall of this apartment block and walked home.  As all footage and security cameras show me parting ways with you even the old lady saw you go off on your own, nobody knows. Nobody knows that is is me”

Park Jimin: Burn

You opened a sealed box, and you read the stupid script. You were using it as a chance to practice your reading and speaking Korean. But you had let it out, and it was chasing you. Its eyes blacked out and horns coming out from his hair. He looked eerie and was still recovering strength which gave you time to run hiding in a church. 

Stopping at the door it watched you and you were relieved until it reached in blackened nails gripping the door frame. It stepped inside calling your name sweetly, you could see the embers flaking off its body slowly not enough to kill it but enough to annoy. 

You ran hiding in the confession booth your breathing was shaky. It sang a haunted tune. Its voice layered a low sound that crackled and a high breathy sound like a whine. You held your breath as it passed, calling your name. You thought it was gone, but you didn’t want to take any chances. 

You opened your phone the words you had spoken in the translator the demon's name was Jimin and upon searching the name you found it was a demon of Lust, Deception, Chaos and Misfortune. It resides in the third outermost circle of hell with Preceding Taehyung and following from Namjoon. The strongest demon being Kim Seokjin. 

A hand busted through the wall of the confessional by your head and wrapped around your throat pulling you threw the thin and shattered wall. 

Kim Taehyung: Battery

You forgot to plug your phone in the night before so you charged it while you got ready; it was only at 28% and you sighed heading out to work. You met a client and discussed his hotel remodelling. 

Your phone which you had turned off when you weren’t using it at work was now at 16%. It was early in the afternoon and you were emailing a client important information and rushing across town to meet with a supplier. You crossed the road getting hit with a car laying in the rain you found it hard to breathe all the air seemed to have escaped your body. Dragging your arm across the concrete your phone held tightly in your fist you pressed the numbers for emergency services you hit the call button when your phone powered down. 

A face appeared about you looking horrified he called the ambulance shaking there was a light behind his head. It seemed like a halo and he was your very own angel. 

Jeon Jungkook: Beach  @live-2-fangirl

The beach was quiet; it was overcast and occasionally would sprinkle with rain. You were never deterred, and this weather was better for churning up the sea and creating a few gnarly waves. You laughed at the expression gnarly and swore on your life never to think nor speak it ever again. Getting on your surfboard you swam out to sea it was incredibly exhilarating weaving across the water. 

The water grew unforgiving in what seemed like a second pulling you out and you were dunked by a wave and tossed around. You didn’t panic swimming to the light. Breaking the surface, you blinked the saltwater from your eyes and tried to get it out your nose and throat. It was brighter than you remembered. Maybe there was a break in the clouds. 

“Can we be of aid lad?” A voice called you looked up to see an old wooden shop, the kind that looked like it belonged in a Johnny Depp quintology of films. Leaning over the side of the ship was a young man, his hair shaggy hair falling forward as he looked down at you. Your wetsuit removed any femininity from your figure and your hair was in a very messy bun. You climbed up the rope ladder on the side of the ship as you didn’t see any signs of your beach anywhere. 

It was so sunny with not a cloud in the sky. Did you die? Getting up onto the ship you laid your board down on the deck removing the surf leash from your ankle. 

“Where be your port?” He asked they all looked like they were fresh out of a romance novel with billowing shirts and shaggy hair. 

You ripped the velcro around your neck and pulled the zip down your back.  Peeling the wetsuit of your arms until they were free, letting out your hair shaking it with your fingers hoping it wouldn’t take long to dry. Some of your swimsuit was on display and as you went to take the wetsuit completely off a long waistcoat was draped over your shoulders. 

“My apologies, my lady, we will fetch you some dry clothes,” you shrugged his coat off onto the deck. 

“No, need I will be dry soon” you continued to strip, and he unbuttoned his shirt and fastened it around you buttoning it up. 

“These scallywags cannot be trusted with a beautiful woman like yourself” he smiled “you are as tempestuous as the waters we sail” 

Next Week

#bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts birthday #BTS365Prompts #BTS365 #bts fic #bts x reader #bts world #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jin x reader #suga x reader #jhope x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #birthday prompts

[stephiebutton]

So on Thursday before Coachella, my friend (who bows at the Altar of Ariana) sent me Ari’s posts on IG — one of the *NSYNC pay per view concert in which baby Ari was in the audience; and the new video of her lip syncing to Tearin’ Up My Heart. I thought maybe he was trying to convert me to an Arianator, but I honestly didn’t think much of it, nor did he, so I was just like ok, that’s cute!

On Friday, I had several people text me over a two hour timeframe when the rumors started spreading that *NSYNC may be playing Coachella—all while I was at work and couldn’t really wrap my head around it or even take the time to research it myself. At first I was like REALLY? Then I was like REALLY! By Friday evening, I knew something was going to go down, I just didn’t know what. I had convinced myself that they were going to perform, and that I had to be there, and I even researched flights and tickets; but then, I convinced myself that they were only going to introduce her, and I didn’t need to go. I was scheduled to close at work Sunday night, so I basically threw my hands in the air and was like “Oh well, I can’t go.”

Saturday rolled around, and I had a nagging feeling that I needed to try harder to make it happen, because whatever was going down was something that I needed to see. I knew that if I didn’t try everything I could, I would regret it. I had to close at work Saturday night, which means I had to be there around 3pm and work until 11:30pm. The gal that was scheduled to open on Sunday was still there when I arrived, so as she was getting ready to leave, I said “I need a favor...” and for some reason, I hesitated in asking her, like I didn’t really know what to say or how to say it, like the answer could actually change my life, so I just looked at her with a weird sideways smile, then finally asked if she could switch with me, so I come back and open Sunday morning instead of closing. She said she had to check with her family and see if they had plans, and she would get back to me. Thirty minutes after she left, she texted and said it was all good, that we could switch! From that point on, everything just snowballed. I had the biggest obstacle out of my way, so now to make the rest happen...

I went back and fourth about a ticket to the event. At first, I was like, “I’ll figure it out when I get down there,” like I usually do for most concerts I attend. I checked Stub Hub first, and was willing to pay whatever I needed to, but the only problem with that was because Coachella uses wristbands, not tickets, all bands had to be picked up in person. I called them to see what the latest pick up time was, and if anyone could pick up for me, and all other options I could think to exhaust, but it ended up not working out since I wasn’t going to get down there until much later. At that point, I was like “YOLO, I’ll find someone selling one outside!” But then I realized how late I was going to get there, and was like, “dude, if I don’t have a ticket by time I get there, no one is going to be hawking them; so I’m screwed!”

Then finally, I turned to the one place that scares me the most, Craigslist! I went through the posts, most were wristbands for Weekend 2, but I found one for Weekend 1, advertised for the cheapest I had seen any advertised, anywhere! I replied via text immediately, really not thinking I’d get a reply since the event was well underway and the wristband had probably already been sold. To my surprise, within minutes, the postee replied. I asked if it was still available, and he (I didn’t know if it was a he, she or other at the time) replied that yes, it was, but someone was supposed to pick it up later. But he also said that so many people had flaked already, that he wasn’t counting on it. After confirming it was a Weekend 1 wristband, I told him that I wanted it, 100%, guaranteed! The only problem was that he had advertised it from San Francisco and I was across the Bay, and I wouldn’t be able to pick it up until after midnight. He then replied that he was actually in Oakland, which happened to be the city right next to me! I couldn’t believe it! Aaaaand, it was only $200, which happened to be the EXACT amount of money I had in my wallet, and usually I don’t carry any cash at all! I let the mid shift manager know that I had to step out to make a miracle happen!

I’m not going to lie, I was like, “what if it’s a serial killer?!” “What if it’s a ploy to rob me?!” “Am I going to die?!” So I shared the address with the other manager in case the cops needed to know where to find my body. Two associates hugged me in case they never saw me again, and I was on my way. I texted the other manager when I got to the pick up spot, but I didn’t see her reply immediately, so I didn’t reply right away. She was worried that the “Craigslist murderer” kidnapped me and had been the one to text her that I was there safely, even though he had probably already cut me into pieces, just to throw off suspicion. 😂😂 😂 (we may or may not have seen too many SVUs or CSIs). All in all, it took less than 10 minutes to get there, less than 5 minutes for the exchange, and less than 10 minutes back. The course of my life changed in less than a lunch break! Now the second hurdle had been cleared.

I texted a few friends a picture of the Coachella box and they were all in semi-disbelief/not really surprised/kinda amazed/planning my *NSYNC junkie intervention. But they knew, if anyone was going on this adventure, it was me!

I had posted on Facebook trying to get someone to ride down to So Cal with me, so that I wasn’t traveling alone (I would have anyways, but company is always appreciated on long journeys). I was trying to talk my friends and fellow fans into winging it and coming along, but no bites. Finally, at about 9pm, one of my cousins replied and said she, her husband, and their baby girl were considering going down to Disney to join some of their family, and if I was still looking for some road dogs, they were in.

Schedule, check; wristband, check; road dogs, check. Everything was coming together.

I was home from work at 11:30pm, picked a few outfits, packed, showered, and was in bed by 2am. I met with my mom at 6:30am to exchange cars since hers was a little bit more current with the maintenance, and then I was back at work at 7am to get the building open and operating. The morning is still a blur. My fellow manager arrived at 11am, and I was out the doors by 11:30. I met my cousin and family at noon, and we were on our way. We got an hour into the drive and then the gas light came on. I was so excited that I had freaking forgot to get gas before we left! Like it never even crossed my mind. I had one mission, and I forgot all the steps I still needed to take to get there 😂. Luckily we were still close to civilization, so filling up happened, then we proceeded on the adventure of a lifetime. I think we only stopped a couple times for gas and a baby break on that six hour journey to our first stop. Let me tell you, my baby cousin is a true hero! That 5 month old was so well behaved, didn’t need a whole lot, and was just a little trooper. My cousin-in-law did a lot of the driving on the way down and I am so grateful for that, because it had already been a long day leading up to the trip, and it was going to be an even longer night...

We arrived in Anaheim around 6:15pm. They got checked in their room, my cousin-in-law took the car to fill up, while I got ready and prepped for the last two hour stretch of the trip.

I was officially en route to Coachella by 6:45pm. I remember eating very little all day because I just couldn’t, and I remember snacking on an apple and some goldfish during those last two hours to Coachella. (This is irrelevant but I’m throwing in all the deets I can recall).

I had never been anywhere near Coachella or Palm Springs, so I was really disoriented when I finally made it to that last highway before the getting to my destination. Traffic wasn’t horrible, but it was still quite a trek, so I was slowly getting anxiety with each passing minute. I followed directions directly to the fairgrounds, however, it was about 8:45pm at that point, and the streets were blocked a mile in every direction. I circled the area looking for anywhere to park, feeling helpless, I finally pulled over to ask someone what to do, and they informed me that parking had JUST shut down (at this point it was about 9pm). They suggested that I park at a shopping center and Uber in. I found a shopping center 3 miles away and requested an Uber. I was throwing things in my fanny pack trying to get it together because my Uber was on its way. The guy was only able to get me a mile and a half closer because of the street blockages, so I sped walked a mile and a half in, and started the winding path through the gates of Coachella.

I knew Ariana was scheduled to play at 10:30pm, and at this point it was probably 9:30pm, I was close enough, and I knew I would make it. I was no longer worried about making it in, but now I was having major anxiety and freaking out, and semi-crying at what might be happening in the next hour. There was a lot of talking to myself on that walk, the main message to myself was “BITCH BE COOL!” I knew it wouldn’t be a long line, since it was so late and the night was almost over. People were actually leaving as I was walking in and I’m thinking to myself, “don’t you people understand that *NSYNC is about to be on that stage?! Y’all are going to regret leaving early! I wonder how you are going to feel knowing you missed this when everyone would be talking about this in the morning!” But ya know what, not my problem. Their loss!

The walk into the festival felt just as long as the walk to the fairgrounds. It felt like miles of a fenced off path, which was made of dirt, but not just any dirt. The chunks of dirt were so huge, it was like walking on rocks. I was certain I was about to sprain my ankle, but I reminded myself that it would be worth it and the hospital would be there when it was over.

I made it through the gated path, nothing sprained, just a little sweat. I made it through security, and I was IN. I had absolutely no idea where I was going. I threw this trip together so last minute that I had no time to prep. I walked over to a tent covered stage. It was a big stage and I was like is this it?! I was looking for some sign labeling the stage or some list of set times, and found nothing. I asked around, the first two security people I asked were no help! One was so rude, he was like, “I don’t know, did you look at your map!” I’m thinking “mother f-er, don’t you think if I had a map I would know where the F I’m going, why would I waste my precious breath speaking to you?! I was like “dude, I JUST got here and there is no map and I need to know where the main stage is.” So his rude ass referred me to someone else who was nicer, but said that he didn’t know where the main stage was. I’m thinking “are you people kidding me?! How are you working the most popular festival known to mankind and you can’t tell me where the main stage is?!” A little panic started to set in. It was dark, it was getting late, her set was rapidly approaching, and I had no idea where I was going. So finally, I was referred to another guy, who actually pointed me in the right direction. He’s like “its all the way on the other side, past that tent, past the beer garden and you’ll see it.” The act that was on the stage I had first seen upon entrance had just started, and some people were running towards me to get to it, so I was going against traffic, but my destination was clear now. Once I had the stage in my sight, I stopped for a water. The girl selling those very reasonably priced water bottles (only 2 bucks! That was practically free in festival land) was like “I like your shirt” (an *NSYNC crop tee simply styled with *NSYNC across the chest. [PS I DON’T wear crop tops, but I figured, cuando en Coachella right?!]). And I simply asked, “this is the place right?” And she just enthusiastically nodded Yes. It was about to go down. I tried to locate a restroom, because I mean, I had just spent 2+ hours driving and chugging an energy drink and water, making no stops, but there were no restrooms in sight, and I was not about to walk back to the entrance where they were. I had done way too much just to get within eye shot of that stage, I figured, what’s a little pee in my pants?! It was probably gonna happen upon seeing *NSYNC for the first time in 17 years anyways! (PSS I didn’t actually pee my pants. I think my whole body had shut down at the point because nothing more was going to get in my way).

I kinda of walked back and fourth across the field, I walked all the way down the right side. I had one friend there already, but trying to get in contact with anyone in that mass of people was impossible. It was hard to tell where a good spot would be, because a lot of people were sitting down, so getting an accurate read was not happening. I knew just being there was all I needed, regardless of what I could or couldn’t see, but I really did want to see SOMETHING. My brain was all over the place, I was like “I could just start pushing through people. I could go all the way up front but all the way to the side,” the options were limitless. I ultimately didn’t want to cause any drama by pushing through people, I didn’t want a harsh angle of the stage, so I figured if I was semi central I would at least catch a glimpse of whatever was going down, no matter how far back I was standing. I couldn’t actually get centered because the sound and lighting booth was to my left and the people were too packed in to get through any further, not to mention there was a fenced off area in the middle for VIPs. (In fact, that’s where Billie Eilish and Justin Bieber were meeting. I remember seeing the crowd directly around that spot all holding up their lights and phones. I heard rumblings that it was Bieber, but I could not possibly care less, I’m not a fan [again, another irrelevant point, but it’s part of my memory, so whatevs!]) I settled on my spot and reminded myself that being there was enough. I’ve also done enough GA shows to know that when the show starts, people push in and up, so that was going to be my game plan.

By this time, it was probably about 10pm, and I only had thirty minutes to go! I was calm and quiet, because the ONLY thing I wanted in life might actually be happening, and I was there, I was a part of it. Ariana might have been a few minutes behind schedule, and I had no clue when the song I was waiting for would be coming, so I stayed calm and waited for it. It was the fourth song in, and when I heard the first cords to “Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I’m Bored” I immediately started crying, and my camera went up in the air. If *NSYNC was actually going to be there, this was the song. This was my entire trip, the whole saga, coming to its peak, my dreams potentially coming true, 17 years of waiting. This was it!

I honestly couldn’t see much, and I didn’t even see them walk on the stage. This was either going to be the greatest moment of my life, or the biggest disappointment I’ve ever experienced. When the song came to a pause, and she looked over her shoulder, and then uttered the words I’d waited so long to hear again, I lost my whole ass mind. “Ladies and Gentlemen, *NSYNC!” I basically blacked out at that moment, and I only remember bits and pieces. I know I still couldn’t see, but what glimpse I did catch, I really only saw JC at first and I was like “is it just him?” And for a tenth of a second, I was thoroughly confused, but still getting my life and losing my ever loving mind! My eyes darted around, and I finally caught a glimpse of everyone else. (I also still didn’t know if Justin was there or not, because I knew it was physically possible that he be there, albeit, highly unlikely. Honestly, I’ll always love Justin, even though I can’t stand him much of the time, and I did secretly hope he would have made it to this, but I was perfectly fine with the fact that he ultimately wasn’t there). I didn’t know what my camera was recording, and I didn’t care, because this moment was everything. When the song ended, I stopped recording, because that was it...or so I thought. I had never even imagined that there would be more and I was so content with them just singing “It Makes Me Ill.” I didn’t have any time to process because immediately after that ended, “Tearin Up My Heart” started and my blackout went even darker. I managed to get my phone recording again, I still couldn’t see a thing, but it didn’t matter. What I do remember was the people right in front of me, looking back at me, and staring. I still have no idea why, because it could have been my screaming, it’s possible it was my singing, it might have been me sobbing, I may have even bumped them while jumping around. I was not aware of anything I was physically doing. I do remember Ari in the middle hitting that choreography so hard, and when Joey yelled “Let me see you jump!” I think that’s when I snapped back in to reality and I started processing things again. I went even harder with the dancing, singing and jumping, because it was one of those moments when I found myself actively living in the moment, and I wanted to live it the best I could. I’ve probably never smiled that huge in my life. As the song wound down, I stayed recording just in case more was coming (not that I needed anything else, because my life was complete in that moment), so I have them thanking the crowd and Ariana and that was a perfect way to wrap up that video.

Once they cleared the stage, I had to catch my breath, gather myself, and keep

from crumbling to the floor. I remember leaning over with my hands on my knees, trying to get my vision and hearing back. Attempting to process anything that had just happened. I had had a brief exchange with the guy next to me before Ari hit the stage and I was like “I’m here for *NSYNC” and I showed him my shirt. While I was trying to compose myself, he put his hands on my shoulders and was just like “OH MY GOD!” I think that was the general consensus of the crowd, because it was that epic. I stayed for her whole set, and appreciated everything she brought to the stage, but nothing would top *NSYNC. It was one of those show stopping, jaw dropping moments that could never be duplicated.

Because cell service had been so bad during the show, I just put my phone on airplane mode, as to not drain the battery, and I honestly, didn’t give a crap about the outside world. Not a lot of people knew I was going, and I didn’t want to jinx anything, so I kept the details of the trip very quiet, with the exception of a few friends I had texted or messaged directly. So once all was sang and done, I turned airplane off, only to be blasted with texts from friends who knew I was there, checking to see if I was still alive. Because I hadn’t replied immediately, a few of them thought I was dead in the dirt in the desert 😂😂😂😂.

The crowd was clearing out, and I was trying to coordinate a meet up with a friend of mine who scored a wristband earlier that same day. She was the only person I knew there, and I’m so glad I had someone to squeeze after the greatest moment of my life! We went to good ol’ Denny’s to hang out and further bask in the glory of the evening! We had mutual friends, and were pals on social media, but never had the chance to hang out together, so it was great to catch up and squeal about what we witnessed!

Finally, around 2am, I headed out of Indio, and I was on my way home. Yes, this trip was a down and back adventure. I knew it would be brutal, but I knew that it would be worth it. I drove about 3 hours up, and stopped to nap in the car, for what was supposed to be a 30 minute cat nap, but turned into a couple hours 😂. I was on a time crunch because I was due to be back at work at 11am. I got back on the road at 5am and the journey continued. I had exhausted so much energy at the show, that the last five hours of the drive home were harsh! I had to stop several times to stretch and keep my blood flowing, and at one point I knew I wasn’t going to make it to work on time, so I let my manager know. She knew I had gone, and knew I was insane, and was shocked I was still driving home, so she was cool with me coming in an hour or so late 🙏🏻. I made it home to shower and change, then made it to work for another nine hours. Although I was exhausted, I had the comfort of knowing that I had just experienced one of my top two moments in life (the other being the Star Ceremony) and the smile never left my face.

The entire adventure officially lasted less than 48 hours. I’m still amazed that everything went down the way that it did. I’m a strong believer in “if it’s meant to be, it will be.” And this was just another example of that being true for me, and especially when it comes to *NSYNC. I have experienced so many cool things and have countless memories thanks to those guys, and this moment will go down as one of the greatest!

[goodfemalecharacters]

15x03 Coda: Consolation Prize

Three sad vignettes for three sad dudes.  Destiel, Samwitch of a sort, 1.5k

It’s over.

It’s over, it’s over, it’s over, it’s over, it’s over.

Dean repeats the words in his head, because if he doesn’t, he’s going to lose it.  Lose what?  He’s not sure.  His remaining thread of sanity, maybe.  Or his ability to stop himself from hurling every item in the Bunker’s kitchen on the floor.

If it were really over, if they’d really beaten Chuck’s last challenge, if they’d really escaped the rat race they’ve been stuck in since day one, then he’d feel something, wouldn’t he?  Relief.  Peace.  Instead, he’s every bit as empty as Famine—as Chuck?—had said he was all those years ago.

Winning would feel like cooking Mom a full meal, no nostalgic Winchester Surprise anywhere in sight, and teaching her to make a pie.  Like playing catch with Dad like they did before the fire, talking about nothing important.  Like watching a smile spread across Sammy’s face, not one of those pinched, drawn things that have been twisting his features for a decade.  Like teaching Jack how to drive, properly this time.

Like telling Cas—well.  It doesn’t matter now, does it?

Because Mom and Dad are dead, and Sam just killed the first person in years that he’s actually made a genuine connection with,  and a demon wearing Jack’s corpse waltzed it into Hell and never came back, and Cas is gone.

This isn’t what winning is supposed to be like.  So what does victory even mean, really?

He’s no philosopher.  He’s a guy with a car, a couple guns, a kid brother, and a plucky attitude.  Nevermind all the things he doesn’t have.  He’s gonna take this victory and he’s gonna enjoy it, damnit.  Somehow.

One quick trip to the store and a Google search set him up for the evening.  As he’s making his way back to the kitchen, he stops by Sam’s room to listen.  It’s quiet, and there’s no light streaming from the crack under the door.  Maybe he’s asleep, but Dean knows better than to hope that that’s the case.  

Once he’s back in the kitchen, Dean sets about making cookie dough with far more intensity than any reasonable person should.  Take that, Chuck.  Name one manly man in the whole fucking canon that celebrates his free will with making cookies.  If there’s any proof that he’s no longer being yanked around like a dog on a chain, like a puppet on a string, like any number of stupid metaphors that don’t even begin to cover how he feels right now, it’s there.  

Right?

By the time he takes the last batch out of the oven, it’s nearly three o’clock in the morning.  The stillness of the bunker, which usually comforts him, feels heavy and oppressive.  He burns his fingers on the edge of the last pan as he withdraws it from the oven.

Typical.

On his way back to his room, he sets a tray of the warm cookies outside of Sam’s.  Like it’s some sort of consolation prize for making their only friend leave.

///

“Samwise, I know you’re the king of deluding yourself, but the math here isn’t hard.”

Sam can feel the breath on the back of his neck, but it’s not warm, not like breath should be, and his own warm breath catches in his throat.  He closes his eyes, tenses his shoulders.  This isn’t real.  This isn’t real.

“You’re dead,” he tells the voice, because if he tells himself that it’s just a voice, there won’t actually be someone there when he turns around. “You’re in the Empty.”

“Yeah, sure,” the voice—he’s not naming it, he’s not—says, “keep telling yourself that.  You know I’ll be wherever Chuck wants me to be in this little drama of yours, right?  You know this, Sam, or you’d turn around and face me.”

Sam knows better than to turn around.  After years and years and years of this, he knows not to fall for the goading.  But he does, and Lucifer smiles.  Sam takes a deep breath, but it doesn’t stop the way his heart is throwing itself at his ribcage like it’s trying to escape.

“I’ll make sure to say hi to Little Red for you.  She’s in my territory now, you know.”

This is his poor, screwed-up, exhausted brain spitting old footage, cobbling it together like a trailer for a horror movie.  

“She sacrificed herself,” Sam finds himself saying. “She sacrificed herself for the world.  If that doesn’t deserve Heaven—”

Lucifer smiles, then, and the words die on Sam’s lips. “It’s cute that you still think any of this is about deserving.”

And then Sam jerks awake, his heart still pounding.  He’s managed to twist the sheets around his legs like a mummy, so he takes a second to untangle himself.  It’s a long enough process that his breathing has slowed to a normal rate by the time he’s done.

He has to swallow back bile, but he manages to stop himself from vomiting on to his floor.  Sam lets his head drop forward to hang between his knees, which causes the angry wound in his shoulder to yell out.  His head spins, but he can’t tell if it’s pain or leftover vertigo from the dream.

He hasn’t had one like that since Dean killed—truly, permanently killed—Lucifer.

He’d called Rowena that night, hands still shaking as he searched for her name on his phone.  She’d asked for Lucifer’s heart (“Never know when something like that will come in handy, Samuel), and he’d had to decline, seeing as Nick had been using it.  Funny, that.  It probably would have been better for everyone that way.

He’d been able to hear her relief over the phone, buried as it was in the familiar lilt of her voice.  She’d promised a night of toasting his death until they were both well and truly drunk. (“So, two drinks?” he’d teased, and she’d grumbled something about draining wine casks before his great-grandparents had met).

Right.  They’d never get that now.

He stretches out on his bed again, on top of the sheets this time, wincing as the motion pulls on the bullethole.  He doesn’t get back to sleep before his alarm goes off three hours later.

///

This particular twenty-four hour diner apparently isn’t open twenty-four hours a day—they close at three and reopen at six.  The waitress, when Cas points this out to her, shoots him a glare and then proceeds to take over thirty minutes to get him the coffee he’d ordered.

He can’t taste it, of course, but it would be rude to sit here and order nothing.  Besides, the slight tingle on his tongue from the caffeine is something, at least.  A tiny distraction from the gaping hole in his chest.

During the brief time he’d been human, working at the Gas ’n Sip, he’d passed the long nights when there’d be hours between the customers with daydreams.  Fantasies where Dean would pull up outside, walk in with his hands deep in the pockets of his coat.  He’d say that they’d managed to lock both Heaven and Hell, returning angels and demons to their places for good.  He’d say that it was over, that Cas could come home.

He’d say he needed to finish his shift, and Dean would roll his eyes, but he’d gather the seriousness from Cas’s voice and stay by the register for the rest of the evening.  He’d buy dozens of packs of gum as he chewed his way through them, and he’d flip through so much of a magazine that Cas would insist that he buy it, too.  He’d keep up a quiet stream of chatter until, at last, Cas clocked out.

Dean would kiss him in the parking lot.

Stupid.  Because now, at the end of it all, there’s no going home.  There’s no quiet conversation at the dinner table or long nights marathoning movies or painting his room in the bunker a pretty robin egg blue.  

Certainly no kissing in the parking lot.

Now, it’s the end of it all and he doesn’t have everything.  No purpose in Heaven.  No life on Earth.  No place to call home.

He’ll head to Jody’s tomorrow morning, once he’s pulled himself together.  He can show Claire cat memes in person, watch her roll her eyes.  Help Patience with her math homework, listen to Alex’s nursing stories, lend a hand in the kitchen when Jody’s busy at work.  He doesn’t think she has the heart to turn him away, even though he’s not the usual sort of wayward soul that finds itself at her doorstep.

It’s not much of a plan, but it’s something.  It’s enough to keep him preoccupied while he waits for the sun to rise, anyway.  The waitress returns three times to fill his coffee cup while the sun slowly creeps back to the horizon, and when he leaves her a forty dollar tip, her eyebrows vanish into her hairline.

By the time he hits the road, there’s a weak sort of sunlight spilling over the highway.  And even though he feels like someone hollowed out his stomach, he has to smile.

He’s part of the reason the sun is still shining, after all.  No matter what else he’s lost, nobody can take that from him.

(ao3)

#destielfanficnet #destiel #spn fic #spn spoilers #spn s15 #my fic

[azookiex3]

A Devil’s Love

Description:  Chloe's best friend is back, and Lucifer's charm can't seem to affect her either. Is she also a miracle child? Or something...more? [Story starts during S2 Ep4, Female Reader Insert]

AO3 Link

Fanfiction Net Link

Notes: It's been a long time since I've written fanfiction, but I love the Lucifer Netflix Show [screw you Fox] so much that I just had to write my ideas! The first chapter is pretty long, and I apologize for that, but I wanted to get most of the character introductions done. Plus the first chapter follows S2 Ep4: Lady Parts. Please leave a review!

Warnings: No warnings this chapter!

Chapter 1: All bad things, I promise

“Ladies and Gentlemen! We have arrived at our destination of the Los Angeles International Airport. We hope you enjoyed your flight and hope you ride with us again!” A smack to your chest woke you from a deep slumber.

“Ms. Earth! We've landed. Can we please hurry off this plane?” your assistant, Alice Green, pleads to you.

“Geez, Ali,” you groan while stretching in your very comfy first class seat, “The whole reason I got us first class was so you'd be more comfortable.”

“Over 6 hours, Ms.” You yawn.

“Alright, alright. Let's get off. I'm eager to go too, actually.” You give Alice the shooing motion and she was more than happy to oblige.

After grabbing your luggage from the always too fast conveyor belt you treat Alice to the most elegant airport food you can imagine: McDonald's. As she went to town on her banquet you called a cab to pick you up in thirty minutes, then stared at a blank text message screen.

“You ok?” Alice asks after swallowing a mouth full of chicken nuggets.

“You know, it amazes me how you can eat like a pot belly pig and still be a size three,” Alice raises an eyebrow at you while stuffing more in her mouth. You sigh, “Should I text her now? Or just surprise her at work?”

“You've told me before that she usually doesn't like to be interrupted when on duty.”

“Yeah you're right,” you start to form a devilish grin on your face and place your phone back in your purse, “Her job it is then!”

“Seriously, Detective! Name three friends you could have drinks with right now,” Lucifer Morningstar poked at Detective Chloe Decker.

“Well, I can't name three,” replies Chloe rolling her eyes, “I can name one, but she's on the other side of the country.” She pulls the car up to the crime scene and parks.

“Wait, you actually have a friend?” Lucifer smiles  cockily. Chloe gives him an annoyance stare then gets out of the car, walking quickly inside the crime circle.

“Well you need to make more friends! Especially since now I know it seems you're capable of doing so,” Lucifer, very easily with his long legs, strides right next to her, “Stress is a terrible ager, Detective. Go to a bar, get drunk, and talk about your woes to the patrons! I promise it'll make you feel better.”

“Talk about my impending divorce and possible homelessness with an eight year old daughter to complete strangers? Yeah. Sounds super relaxing.”

“Doesn't it?” Lucifer smiles that grin again and Chloe responds with a pissed off expression. Thankfully, Detective Dan Espinoza cuts in with the crime details.

“We've got a young female. C.O.D. unknown.” Dan looks back and forth between Lucifer and Chloe before settling on her.

“ID?”

“None,” Dan says with a sigh, “No personal belongings. Only thing of note is a triangular ink stamp on the inside of her wrist.”

“Oh wait, I think I can actually help here,” Lucifer stops the men carrying the women's body and points to the stamp, “This is a very common thing you'd see at a nightclub. You know,” Lucifer looks to Chloe and raises his brows, “Where people go to have fun.”

“And then get killed. Yeah mhm.” Chloe shakes her head at her partner.

“Well that part usually doesn't happen.” Lucifer pulls his phone out, all attention now on the tiny device.

“We did find an abandoned vehicle registered as an Uber,” Dan steps in, “No driver.”

Chloe nods in thought, then grabs Lucifer's phone and starts searching, “I was searching safe nightclubs for you Detective! Other than my own, of course.”

“Uber IDs are usually linked to the drivers phone,” Chloe says, ignoring Lucifer, “Not the car, and now we've got his number...Looks like our guy is on the corner of Crescent & Third.”

“Impressive.” Lucifer smiles down at his partner.

“Yeah it's called police work.” Chloe replies, hiding a smile as she hands him back his phone.

Lucifer places the phone in front of his mouth, “Let's solve a murder!” “I can assist you with that.” “Ha! You have to love these things!”

“Lucifer-” but before Chloe could scold him, one of the K9s on scene started to bark. The three of them look over in that direction and see an officer having trouble controlling the dog.

“I thought those things were supposed to be trained,” Lucifer cringes.

“That's Buster. Just turned a year old and still training,” Dan answers. The poor officer can't control Buster any longer, and the dog snaps free and runs to an approaching party.

“Oh my-” Chloe's eyes go wide.

“Well hey there, little guy!” You smile as Buster jumps on you and licks your face. Alice smiles and softly laughs, “You completely ruined my cover, dude! I was planning on sneaking up on my old BFF.” Buster whines softly, “Aw, it's not a problem bud. Now go back to your officer.” You point towards the officer, who looks completely embarrassed, and Buster follows your command.

You look to Chloe, smile and wave, “Hey Chlo-Chlo! Long time no see, huh?”

“Earth?!” Chloe gets the biggest smile on her face and rushes over to you. The two of you have what looks to be the biggest, and tightest, hug in the world.

“Well I'll be damned,” Dan says softly, then smiles and walks towards the trio of women. Leaving behind a very confused Devil.

“What are you doing here, Earth?!” Chloe smiles and holds onto your hands.

“Business over in New York is in good hands now. So I figured, why not open up a vet on the other side of the country too?” You smile and squeeze Chloe's hands, “Plus I get to be back home, work on my K9s again, oh yeah! And be with my BFF.” Chloe smiles and embraces you once more.

“Hey, Earth,” Dan comes up and holds out his hand, “It's good to see you back.”

“Daniel,” you accept his handshake and respond coolly, “You're lucky you brought Trixie into the world. Otherwise I'd be living up to the threat I gave you at the wedding.”

“Yeah…”

Lucifer coughs.

“Oh, right,” Chloe composes herself, “Earth this is Lucifer Morningstar, the LAPD civilian consultant.”

“And her partner,” Lucifer smiles at you and holds out his hand.

“Ah, so you're the weirdo who thinks he's the Devil,” you smile back and accept his handshake, “Chloe's told me a lot about you. All bad things, I promise.”

“Is that so?” Lucifer's smile grows, “Well I wish I could say the same about you, my dear. But I'm afraid the Detective has never mentioned you. Well,” Lucifer side glances to Chloe, “Not until the ride over here.”

“Perfect timing then,” you reply, “And I'm not surprised she hasn't talked about me. She's very hush hush about her childhood.”

“Yes, I've noticed that.”

“Earth!” Chloe eagerly tries to move the conversation in another direction, “Who's your friend?”

“This is my rising prodigy and assistant, Alice Green,” you properly introduce her to everyone.

“It's nice to meet you all,” Alice shakes everyone's hand, lingering longer on Lucifer.

“Nice to meet you too, darling,” Lucifer smiles seductively at your assistant, and you can see her blush.

“So!” You clap your hands together loudly, knocking Alice out of her daze, “I just came to say I'm back. Go on, go back to your investigation,” you make the shooing motion once more, “We're going to head to our hotel and get some rest. Going back in time is sooo draining. Text me when you're done and free to hangout, Chloe!” You wave your goodbyes then push Alice back to the cab.

“Well, Detective,” Lucifer smiles down at her, “Looks like you've got no excuse now not to go have fun.”

“Looks like it.” Chloe smiles back.

The music was popping in Lux. People danced, talked, made-out all around the place. Everyone looks to be having the time of their life.

All except a certain Detective who has yet to de-stress.

“...there was tissue damage to Daria's stomach lining caused by liquid nitrogen, the stuff that makes those fancy cocktails smoke. It's probably how she ingested the poison-”

“Amazing work as always Detective,” Lucifer interrupts her, “but you just made my trio sha-bang run away.”

“Second,” Chloe continues like she hasn't even heard him, “I assumed that Daria was at a club on Gower and we found an abandoned building on the corner. The place looked like it had a party recently.” Chloe moves over to one of the small tables by the bar as she talks, looking over the paperwork.

“Fascinating,” Lucifer says sarcastically, following her.

“I was wondering if you could make some phone calls to help me out?” Chloe looks to Lucifer, “You know, since you seem to have your fingers on the pulse.”

“I'd much rather be pulsing-”

“I know that hood,” Mazikeen Smith, Lucifer's demon bodyguard, had been listening in from the bar and decided to intervene, “There's a great tiki bar across the street from that building. I know the bartender.” Maze downs her drink.

“I'm not surprised,” Chloe shakes her head at the demon.

“Let's go have a drink there. Ask about the dead girls,” Maze pushes.

“That sounds like a very good lead, Detective!” Lucifer's smile practically covers his entire face.

“Did I just hear you guys talk about that tiki bar on Gower?,” Ella Lopez, an LAPD forensic scientist, comes back from dehydrating in the bathroom, “I love their pina coladas!”

“See that Detective?” Lucifer smiles at Chloe as he takes a swing of a drink a waiter just gave him, “Why don't you text that lovely friend of yours too?”

“Got to say, I'm surprised you guys didn't realize that this was Chloe's idea of a ‘girls night',” You sit next to Maze and Ella, who Chloe briefly introduced you to before she ran off to ask questions of the patrons about her case.

Maze's eye roll looked like a growl, and Ella just smiled and shrugged her shoulders while she finished her second pina colada.

“Well, I did manage to gain some new info,” Chloe finally returns to the bar and sits next to you. She opens up her case file and starts to go through the papers again, “The bartender said something was going on in that building. I put a call in for a warrant to the judge. Just waiting to hear back.”

“Great,” Maze forces a smile and shoves Chloe's abandoned drink into her hand, “Have a drink.”

“Uh no. I think I'm going to call it a night,” Chloe starts to pack up her paperwork, but you grab her left wrist to stop her.

“But I just got here!”

“Sorry, Earth...look we can-”

“Hey ladies,” Dr. Linda Martin, the Devil's therapist, gives a concerned smile as she sits next to Chloe.

“Linda?” Chloe looks shocked, “What are you doing here?”

“Maze texted me saying it was girls night.” Chloe looked over to Maze who just shrugged and motioned again to the abandoned drink.

“Sorry Linda but-”

“Oh no no no, now I'm stepping in,” you snap and Chloe looks to you instead, “Look Chloe, you've done all you can for tonight on the case, and I know you've got a lot on your mind right now. Your weird partner is right,” you put a hand on Chloe's shoulder and squeeze, “You need to have fun and relax.”

“I agree,” Linda nods and you two formally introduce each other while Maze and Ella both share their agreement. Defeated, Chloe sighs, sits down, and slowly starts to sip her drink.

For a first night out since being back in LA, you weren't surprised that it turned into a bar fight. First it started slow, with the group sharing something about themselves or what was on their mind, and that seemed to make Chloe more comfortable. Then two drinks became four, and you find yourself singing terrible karaoke with the girls even though you only drank water. Maze tried to make you drink and you responded with, “You're here to get Chloe drunk. Not me. I saw that phone picture to him.” Which seemed to shut her up, and she glared at you the rest of the night.

The fight broke loose when the Detective in Chloe came back in full force. She noticed some slum of a guy with the same triangular stamp on the wrist and brought him over to question him with Ella. Then the slum's girlfriend comes up and just punches Chloe. You and Maze didn't stand for that and started fighting the people in the bar, while Linda hide under the bar table and Ella kept splashing water on people while swearing. When everything finally calmed down, Maze stopped glaring at you and instead gave you a look of approval for your fighting skills.

Chloe got even more info on her case from the slum. He said the place he got the stamp was a sex club party that always moves to different places each night.

As the group dispersed, Chloe stops you and says she will text you to meet at her mom's when she's officially over with the case.

“I can't believe it was all a set up!” Chloe complains while she pours you and her a glass of water. You take a sip of the water and continue to listen to her ranting, “‘You need to go make friends Detective’,” Chloe mocks Lucifer's voice, “‘Go get drunk and forget about your woes’,” Chloe sighs and slumps into the couch next to you, “Now thanks to that drunkenness I'm going to have Maze as a roommate.”

“I don't think it's so bad.”

“You've only known Maze for a night, and you can basically grasp her personality from that.”

“Aw, come on Chlo,” you nudge her leg with your own, “Yeah she seems kind of...scarey, but she's an amazing fighter. Good protection for you and Trixie,” you take another sip of water, “And besides,” you wrap and arm around Chloe's shoulder, “Lucifer may have set it up, but you did have fun and de-stressed right?”

Chloe sighs and lays her head on your shoulder, “Yeah. I did.”

“See?” You smile and rest your head on hers, “And now you have a good group of girls to have drinks with on your own. You know…” You swirled your water in the glass, “I was scared when you told me about your new partner. I thought, ‘How could a guy who calls himself the Devil be good for my Chlo?’” You sit up and look Chloe in the eyes, “But I think...he's actually a good guy. A nice guy.”

“Yeah,” Chloe smiles warmly at you, “He is.”

“Good.” You cough, “So,” you place your water on the coffee table, “Is it more then just partnership?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

Chloe laughs at you and smacks your arm, “No! Absolutely not!” You both have a good laugh before settling down.

You two talk for an hour before Chloe informs you she has to go pick up Trixie from school. You both say your goodbyes at the door, but Chloe stops you:

“Hey, Earth?” She looks and sounds concerned.

“Yeah?” You look back at her through the doorway.

“You sure you'll be alright coming back here? I mean…”

“Don't worry, Chloe,” you give her a reassuring smile, “I've dealt with my demons.”

“Okay, good. But you know if you ever need someone to talk to come to me,” Chloe smiles then looks like a light bulb clicked on in her head, “Or if you need a new therapist, I do recommend Linda. It may not seem like she's good since she's his therapist and he still insists on being the ‘Devil’, but she has helped Lucifer with other problems.”

“Thanks, Chlo. I'll think about it.” You smile and wave at each other before you head to your rental and she to her own car.

“Yeah,” you say to yourself as you start up the engine, “It's good to be back.”

Tag List: @insanity-is-always-fun

#lucifer #Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer on netflix