#guess which bitch went and bought herself a drink

[vesperlionheart]

Me, a fool of a writer: I must buy for myself a spiffy drink to enjoy before I write, as a treat. Me:*buys drink* Me, many hours later with nothing written: I'm so surprised this strategy didn't work for the 89th day in a row!

#about me #look at me being a fool #an absolute clown #writing is hard #I always think Starbucks or boba tea will fix me #it never does #the spiffy drink is not magic #but I am still weak to it #and my writing is still not done #guess which bitch went and bought herself a drink #guess which bitch still needs help making words work #the potion was not effective

[rametarin]

The old piece of shit has found a new target of ire.

I've often stated that due to health problems and money problems, I'm stuck living with an abusive and antagonistic piece of shit. My mother. Her antagonism exacerbates my health problems, and her greed and entitlement exacerbates my money problems. And as a result of both, I can't escape. Which becomes a vicious cycle she deliberately keeps up to keep me from escaping, to keep being a worthless and abusive piece of shit.

I can't make money living under her roof without her spending her share + mine on bullshit, howling about how she "can't afford her bills" as justification to take my money from me, and that effectively leaves us both barely dangling. A phenomenon that miraculously ceases when I don't have any money for her to steal. So, to keep from pounding myself into the ground going into circles that do nothing but deteriorate what health I have, I don't work. If and when I can ever escape from her, I will. But while I live with this tyrannical piece of shit, I simply can't spare the health or mind to tolerate a job and the soul crushing results of someone else turning a minimum wage paycheck into piles of junk food, piles of shit, and making it rain on family members that don't deserve a dime, much less what could be a nest egg.

So, I live with her. And she's a petty disgusting tyrant.

How petty?

Well, so petty that she decided she didn't like the specific towel I favor. So she decided that unless I'm willing to pay ten dollars every time I use it, it doesn't go in the dryer. It's just a fucking towel. It has colors. It doesn't have any political messages, it doesn't have any coherent symbol or logo. It's just a striped bath and beach towel. Claims it's "too big to wash regularly" because "it's expensive." So this specific towel, the only one I like, doesn't get to go in the dryer.

And when she was really suffering from money problems due to answering when a scam assed fake electric company called offering her cheaper rates, the bird brain inside of her went, "BOK BOK BOK.. CHEAP POWER!?" and signed on. Then the electricity costs skyrocketed and she was locked in to the scam.

At that point she was running around unplugging every appliance when it wasn't in use and even hitting the big red outlet switch to turn off our furnace (which also served as our hot water heater) under the impression that she'd be preventing, "vampire power" from sapping electricity and running up her bills. Just, imagining any scenario she could to handwave control over the situation to limit how much this bird brained attempt at saving money now was hemhorraging cash instead. More than once she went on a tangent speaking to herself (which is what she does when she wants a one-sided conversation with me, or the younger brother) about how us not turning the lights off after we leave a room was the reason electricity cost $500 a month. The way a programmer speaks to a rubber duck, or a narcissist talks into a mirror to reaffirm things they want to be true.

Well, ever since my younger brother bought an electric leafblower, we've been using it as a handheld, light duty snow blower. And this has made my worthless bitch of a mother upset, because for some reason, she likes when we have to invest effort into things and suffer. That's not hyperbole, she despises the use of the leafblower for no other reason than because she believes it's a "cheat" to investing effort into labor.

So whenever it has snowed, she tries to narrate the situation and browbeat. "Oh nooo! It's snowed. Guess you'll have to get your coat on and go shovel. Do you want me to pour you a drink before you get your coat on and go shovel? I was thinking of going to town after you get your coat on and go shovel."

Yes, the bold and italic is such because she thinks she's being subtle or mindfucky. She genuinely believes that is how you "trick" people into doing what you want, how you want. By acting and performing what she wants is the only mechanical possibility. When I correct her and say it can easily be done with a leaf blower, she gets mad and insists that the snow is too heavy to be leaf blown.

95% of the time, she's wrong.

She despises how little effort it takes, for someone that isn't even her, to go clear a path of snow. And she's like this, rain or shine. A fat, disgusting, selfish bitch that believes if you aren't bleeding for her when she feels like you should be bleeding, then you're, "getting off easy." And thus, owe her some other sort of labor to compensate. Even if the labor is utterly pointless. It's like she has this weird robotic quota of control in her head she needs to convince herself she's employing over someone else every day, and if she doesn't get it, she becomes antagonistic and combative.

But that's not how women do combative. Women antagonize you and then scream and threaten to call the police if you confront them over it. So the only form of "fighting" is endurance, compliance, or non-compliance- which just becomes endurance, as those stupid cunts stand right there in the doorway while you're recovering from shoveling and feel the need to go "Keep shoveling!..... Keep shoveling!... What's the hold up?" Just to try and incentivize you to stop resting and keep working. If only to shut them the fuck up and convince them to leave you alone.

So rather than stand in the doorway and blow off the porch in under a minute, she gets mad and insists I suit up in winter gear and go entirely outside to do a one minute task. As punishment, I suppose, for not having to put in the effort of shoveling everything.

But oh, Ram, I hear you say; she has a point! Doesn't opening the door make the heat go out?

Why yes it does. That never stops this stupid cunt from opening the door and wanting to have meaningless shouted conversations just to grab your attention for minute at a time while you're shoveling. The time it takes me to blow off the deck and stairs from the doorway is less than the time she spends farting out her stupid fucking face to say and accomplish nothing from the door, or the window, while I'm trying to concentrate and focus on shoveling.

Stupid conversations while I'm busy and trying to do labor that accomplish absolutely nothing but giving her attention, while I'm trying to do something else. That, ultimately, is the point of wanting attention while somebody else is busy; to put yourself above whatever labor is occurring and demand they give you priority, if only 51%.

"SURE IS COLD OUT THERE, HUH!? LOOK AT ALL THE SNOOOOW! BLAHBLAHBLAH, CAN'T BELIEVE IT-, FEEL THIS-, DIDN'T THINK THAT-, MY STUPID SISTER SAYS."- I don't fucking care, leave me alone, this 'conversation' can take place INDOORS when I'm not trying to do manual labor. Leave me alone. Worthless, lazy bitch. You don't shovel, you don't even clean off the car. This isn't helpful, and you know it actively pisses me off.

This petty bitch refuses to get tools to reduce the amount of labor involved in solving petty chores, specifically because it's designed to make me exert more effort to do them. So when the younger brother buys these shortcuts and there's nothing she can do about the Golden Child's purchases, tries to handwave and mindwarp reasons why they don't apply to the situation. She got inordinately mad about the leafblower, because having a rake on hand was how she got hours of work out of me in the fall just raking leaves that didn't need to be raked.

After the leafblower, we could do hours of work in minutes. She felt less like a slavemaster, I suppose, so decided if it wasn't going to take us hours to rake leaves, we needed to do more labor on a tighter routine, more days out of the fall. To a point. It's blatant what she's doing, but she knows she can't maintain the justifiablity thing even to herself, after a while. It becomes blatantly obvious you're just trying to ride somebody's ass for the joy of riding somebody's ass when you have no reason to do it.

[niennandil-me-writes]

a dhampir and a vampire meet at a bar...

cn: alcohol, illness mention, toxic relationship

[haven't shared anything in a while, so might as well finally post this. I wrote this before our Death House run finished, so this isn't canon because Ivory actually met Lupa during the run. but it's a nice character study.]

In the first inn she could find in Barovia, Ivory sat hunched over a bottle of the cheapest liquor they would sell her, trying to forget… whatever happened over the last 24 hours. The people she had left behind, the things she had seen and heard. She knew there was still a job to do, but right now all she wanted to do was spend what little money she got from the lady at the brothel and drink her trauma away.

The seat next to her creaked. “Ivory, is that you? What a coincidence!”

Ivory jumped at the milk-smooth honey-sweet voice beside her. She jolted around and saw a pale woman with long strawberry blonde hair take the seat next to her. She smiled at Ivory, showing her fangs for just a moment, then leaned over the counter to call over to the barkeeper in a higher pitch like a little girl: “One peach schnaps with cream please, and a cherry on top if you have that. Her treat.” She nodded her head at Ivory.

Ivory cleared her throat. “What makes you think I’ll pay for your drink, bitch?”

Lupa smiled at her. “Oh, did you forget already? You offered to buy me a drink after we got done with your job back at my village.”

Ivory’s face twisted into a grin that was closer to a grimace. “Well, I thought we got that one handled already.” She pulled on her neckerchief, revealing the pale scars beneath only to Lupa and only for a second. Not the two cute points that were the stereotype (and which Lupa herself sported beneath the colorful necklaces she wore) but a wide and ugly gash like someone took a whole bite from her neck.

“Yes, and you could show a bit gratitude for me not outright murdering you.” Lupa’s drink arrived, and she lifted the tiny glass in the air for cheers before sipping on it.

“Not for lack of trying, I assume.” Ivory took a sip as well, without returning the cheer.

Lupa smiled. “I really did think you were gone for good. But then I heard that Ivory Umbra, vampire hunter, was traveling the land again, and more famous and esteemed than ever. I must admit, I was positively surprised. You are interesting, Ivy.”

Ivory flinched. “How do you know that name?”

Lupa laughed. “It was simply a nickname derived from Ivory. But from your reaction I’m guessing it is your given name? Ivy Nicolescu, then?”

“How - ”

“You had some of your identifications in the purse I took from you. The one sewn hidden in your coat? Irene Finch, Iris Bluejay, Aileen Bruckner… lots of the same starting sounds, now that I think of it.”

“Makes it easier to react to a new name,” Ivy said. “And to explain why you reacted to one you’re not carrying right now. So you were the one who stole my wallet! You know how much cash I had in there? Fuck it, of course you know. You could have at least bought me dinner before sucking my blood and disappearing with my money and certificates while I was passed out.” Why did she ever let it come to that? And why had she reacted to her given name like that? It was a rookie mistake, laying her cards on the table like that. She had to be more drunk than she had thought. “Besides, you can’t tell me Lupa is your real name. What, you chose that after turning into a bloodthirsty monster to deal with the emotional anguish that comes with it, like a wild wolf?” Not her best comeback by far.

“It is, in fact, my given name,” Lupa said, way too calm, and for a moment Ivy considered throwing the half-empty bottle at her, but she already knew Lupa was stronger than her, and by a lot. “I must say, I was a bit disappointed when I found out you went right back to posing as a hunter.”

“What, you thought I’d change after you almost kill me.” Ivy chuckled. “Turn over a new leaf. Take up some honest work?”

“A bit, maybe.”

“Well, here I am, right back where I started.” She took a sip, looking over the bottle at Lupa. “At least I don’t kill people.” That was true. She only drank blood from animals, and except for vegetarians and vegans and the owners of said animals, nobody should have an issue with that. The few times she had taken blood from humanoids, she had exerted self-control to only weaken them – and to return in the morning to promise to slay their attacker, for a small fee of course. Worked every time.

“Well, how do you know I do?”

Ivy pointed at her neckerchief.

“Oh, but that was self-defense,” Lupa pouted. “You were a vampire hunter threatening to slay me, after all.”

“Did you believe that even for a second?”

Lupa just smiled, and Ivy took another sip of her sweet sweet alcohol.

“I have killed a lot of people,” Lupa said then, still smiling, but with a threat in her eyes now. “All of us vampires have. That is the way we are.”

“Well, I haven’t. That’s something I’d never do.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ivy, did I make you feel like I included you.” The tone of her voice was begging her to punch her in the face. “You are barely a vampire, after all, a dhampir, and not even one born of vampire blood.”

“Yes, and not a murderer,” Ivy said. “So morally, I’m above you.” She shot Lupa a teethy grin.

“Don’t act all high and mighty.” Lupa’s smile was getting icy now. “You’re meaning to tell me you’ve never harmed anyone?”

“Never said that.” Ivy gulped down some more whiskey. “Just I didn’t kill anyone. A con artist isn’t a murderer.”

“What about all the people whose money you took for taking care of dangers without ever doing so?”

Ivy waved her hand in dismissal. “Made-up dangers, made-up fears.”

“The people lost in the woods trusting the “vampire-bone” talismans you sold them to protect them? You think they make it home safely? Oh, but they are such easy victims. You wanna know how many vampires own your pendants after they took them from your victims?”

“Not my fault they lost their common sense over some necklaces I gave them.”

“But it is your fault if a mother spends all her money on Madame Iris Bluejay’s Miracle Elixir instead of saving it for some real medicine for her deadly ill son. Or if some poor soul spends their last savings on a speck of land that a Miss Irene Finch promises is filled with gold. Need I go on? You might not have killed anyone directly, but do you seriously think your scams have never cost someone’s live? You’re not a vampire, you’re worse and lower than that: You are a leech. You may not take lives, but you ruin them.”

“That is not murder,” Ivy said through gritted teeth. “Those people chose to believe me, they have only themselves to blame.”

“So, do you have yourself to blame for me attacking you after you fell for my lie of being a sweet innocent village girl?”

“You know what?” Ivy slammed down her bottle. Lupa actually flinched, and Ivy grinned in satisfaction. "Yes. Yes, I do have myself to blame. I was stupid to trust you. But you know why I did? Because I was trying to scam you. I wanted nothing more than you treating me like that heroic figure, that dark and mysterious vampire hunter, so I could bang you and then leave in the morning. So when you treated me exactly like I wanted you to, I didn’t question that. The best scams are always the ones played on wannabe scammers themselves. People who think they’re paying less than you’re worth. Who think you don’t know about the gold buried on the land you’re selling. You think those people are so innocent? Well, they’re not. They always see something in it for themselves, or they wouldn’t respond to such an obvious scam.”

“The way you sound so much like one of us when we’re just turned,” Lupa hummed. She finished her glass – how in the world could she take that long for a shot glass – and then licked the cream from her lips. Ivy felt herself blush at the sight, and then took another swig to keep Lupa from seeing it.

“We all tell ourselves we don’t have a choice, and anyways, it’s our victims’ fault for not being careful,” Lupa continues. “Life’s not fair, not for us, and not for them.”

“Well, it isn’t.” Damn, why did she sound so whiny right there? “I mean, listen, I never had any real chance in life, no education, no money, no nothing. Other people got a head start. Call me a liar and a cheat, but rich people are cheating at life.”

“And your parents never had time for you, always working, so now you get the attention that you crave by pretending to be all those big personalities.”

Ivy stared at her, and something in her expression made Lupa laugh out loud. “Oh, Ivy, you are so easy.”

“Fuck you,” Ivy murmured into her drink.

“Oh, now don’t be all sulky.” Lupa laid a hand to her shoulder. Ivy pulled away, a bit too quick, a bit too revealing, and Lupa noticed, judging by the fire in her eyes. “I wanted to tell you something else. My friends, they are actually quite happy with what you’re doing. As I said, they noticed your talismans, and they heard about you. There was some fear at first, but after I told them about you, they were very relieved. So, you see, you are actually under some protection now. They like having a fake vampire hunter on their side.”

“Who says I’m on your side?”

“Like I said, you’re under my protection now.” She smiled, wide, baring her fangs, and even through the daze of the alcohol, Ivy understood.

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Lupa chirped. “And until then, you just have to do what you always do, little leech.” She lifted her empty glass. “What do you say? Another one of those and then you could pay for a room for the two of us?”

Ivy tensed. She couldn’t help but look at Lupa again, her pale skin, freckled face, intense green eyes, her loose dress showing more of her chest than was probably decent. The alcohol didn’t make this easier.

Finally, Ivy tore her eyes away. “Pay for your own damn drink.”

“Fine, then.” Lupa got up and walked over to another lone traveller at the other end of the room, no doubt enticing them to get something more than schnaps from them, leaving Ivory once again alone with her bottle and her fears.

#my writing #oc writing #ivory umbra #lupa #vampires #dhampir #cn alcohol #why am i writing people at a bar that often?

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper - Part 13

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem! Reader Warnings: Talk of parent death Length: 2.1k words Notes: Okay bitches here we go. I’ve got 3 kids doing online schooling, a desk chair that just broke while I was halfway through typing this out, a raging headache, and couldn’t be fucked to edit. I love you al, thank you for sticking with me and this little brain baby of mine. My guidance counselor from high school can suck my dick, “You’re not a creative writer, Cher, you should considering taking Home Ec as an elective instead” I digress....

Series Masterlist

"No." You glared at him and squeezed his hand harder, "You're doing that thing again.

Frankie's head whipped over to stare at you, shocked by your assertive tone.

"You're pulling away. You're stressed, out of your depth, don't know how to deal with it and so you're pulling away again-"

"You don't understand," Frankie interrupted you, shaking his head and trying to pull his hands out of your grasp. This only served to strengthen your resolve, and your grip on him.

"No." You declare again, trying to stay calm and have a mature conversation despite the tension and running emotions. "You told me to give you time to get your thoughts straight and vocalized. I can't do that if I'm not here to hear them. I can't understand your predicament if I leave. So," You moved so you're sitting cross-legged in front of him, making eye contact in an effort to show him he had your full attention. "Why don't you tell me what that phone call was about so we can start figuring it out, together."

The situation was more complex than you ever could have imagined. Frankie's ex-wife, Karla, had died. Her car had been hit by a drunk driver. Annie, thank the gods, hadn't been in the car at the time. Before she'd died at the hospital, Karla had managed to say a few words to the paramedics. At the time they didn't make sense, however, the paramedic had taken the time to write the words down and included the scrap of paper with the patient's chart. This evidence, as it turned out, had been monumental during the resulting legal battle for Annie, all of which took place without Frankie even being notified.

Child services, lawyers, extended family, and even doctors had been involved in the court proceedings. All arguing over the future of the six-year-old girl. All believing that they knew what was best for her, most believing that she should live with them, some having the gall to pretend that they weren't aware of the sizable life insurance payout she was about to receive.

Eight words. Eight simple, beautiful words whispered through the broken, bloody lips of a woman who knew she was about to die. A young girl's future was being held in suspense, and as fate would have it, a wise and sentimental judge was overseeing her case. Eight words were all it took to convince him that Annie's mother knew what was best for her own child.

"Francisco Morales. Trust with her, he's ready now."

From the time Frankie had received the phone call from Karla's family lawyer, the two of you had two days to prepare for Annie's arrival. Frankie worked his magic and erected a wall across the bedroom portion of his loft, allowing for the little girl to have some privacy but not feel like she was being closed in. 

He had fretted for a least twenty five minutes over colour swatches at Hank’s Hardware before coming to the conclusion that he should leave it white and have Annie chose her room colours once she had settled in. He bought himself a new couch, as well, that would convert into a bed and serve as his bedroom for the time being.

The conversation you never had a chance to have with him was still in the back of your mind, but you understood that moving in together as a couple was hard enough. Moving in together with a kid neither of you knew, whose life had just been turned upside down against her will, would be catastrophic. Instead, you focused on being as much of a rock for Frankie as you could.

You made a trip to the city and bought girls bedding, some stuffed animals, and a few little decorations to help Annie feel like the new space was special for her. You also thought to pick up comfort food that a kid might crave, knowing that when you were six the best way to your heart was chocolate. Just before you left the city, a sign caught your attention and had you swerving to change lanes, normally you'd feel slightly bad about your obnoxious driving but today you just waved your middle finger at the rear window in a mock salute.

The flower shop had so many bouquets and you had no idea what kind of flowers the little girl might like. You also had the morbid realization that bouquets might remind her of all the flowers she surely saw at Karla's funeral. Just as you began to second guess yourself, a stand near the back caught your eye and made you smile.

The day of her arrival came quicker than you felt prepared for, never mind how Frankie must be feeling. He hadn't had too much time to worry about how having his daughter would change his life, but once the two of you were standing in his driveway doing nothing but waiting, the nerves had finally settled in. You could see deep, calming breaths he was taking as they condensed into little clouds in the freezing air.

Grabbing his clenched fist, you felt his fingers relax enough to allow your gloved ones to slide through them.

"It's going to be weird for everyone, she's probably nervous too." You weren't sure if the words were reassuring or not but nervous talking seemed to be your forte so you ran with it. "I mean, she's probably sad that she's leaving everything and everyone she's always known, excited about moving to a new place, then feeling bad that she's feeling another emotion besides grief. It can be hard to juggle loss and hope. Just show her how much you love her and be honest about why you couldn't be with her before. Kids are smart and are aware of way more than adults give them credit for."

A few moments later a black sedan slowly crept up the driveway. You wanted to stay, to meet the little girl but had the feeling that Annie and Frankie were going to need time to figure out their relationship without another person in the mix. Suddenly having a new parent was going to be hard enough on the little girl, you were afraid that she might see you as trying to replace her mom and push you away.

Rubbing Frankie's back for one last show of reassurance, you kissed his shoulder then took a few steps back. You figured this was the best way to be there to support him but also staying in the background for the time being. Before the car could fully come to a stop, the rear door was flying open and, in a blur of movement, a little body was flying out of it towards Frankie. You know how people will say that there are times in their lives where important moments fly by so fast they barely have time to enjoy them? Well, this wasn't one of them.

As Annie barreled her way towards Frankie, you saw in slow motion how his handsome face went from being creased with worry, to eyebrow raised shock, to breaking out in a teary smile. He had just begun to crouch down and open his arms in anticipation of holding his little girl when instead she ran right past him and locked herself in one of the sheds.

Time continued to move in slow motion, making it all the more heartbreaking watching your boyfriend's face crumple, the tears of joy turn to tears of pain as he recovered from his initial excitement and realized that his child didn't want to see him.

Tiny, muffled sobs broke the moment and brought time, and the horrible situation, back into focus. The Child Protective Services worker who had accompanied Annie from California was calling apologies to Frankie while running after the little girl, trying not to slip in the snow in her hurry.

You wanted to go to him, to lend him some form of comfort, but you were also aware that some types of grief don't appreciate witnesses. Deciding to stick around and be helpful in the background, you made your way into the loft and started making coffee and sandwiches, foreseeing a longer stay for the caseworker than initially thought.

Nearly forty minutes had passed before you emerged again with food and drinks on a tray and the two adults were still talking to Annie through the cracks in the door. She had stubbornly refused to come out, demanding that she be returned to her home at once and that she hated snow.

Once you had set down the tray and cleared the snow off a picnic table, Frankie thanked you with a kiss to your temple and introduced you to Sharon after he convinced her to take a break from the negotiations. Sharon, who had been with Annie since the day of the accident, began filling Frankie in on what had happened to his daughter in the past month between sips of coffee. He was given a folder with notes from child psychologists, doctors, a letter from her maternal grandparents, and a journal Sharon had kept that described the ways Annie had been processing her grief.

While they talked, you decided to walk over and sit next to the door of the shed, laying a wool blanket down to protect your butt from the cold. You had no idea what to say to the girl but you figured she might like to be reassured she wasn't alone. Settling down, you dug into your own sandwich and hummed quietly to yourself.

You nearly choked on your next bite when you heard a soft voice singing along with the tune you'd chosen.

"Lavender blue, dilly dilly. Rosemary Green, if you are king dilly dilly, I'll be your queen."

After you'd repeated the song twice more, you stopped the tune and said softly,

"I've never heard those lyrics before, they're different from how I learned them."

A long pause followed, making you worry that you'd offended the child back into silence.

"How do you sing it?" Came the sweetest little voice, made all the more adorable with the barest hint of a lisp.

"We always sang, 'Lavender green', for one. Which never made any sense to me so I really like how you did it-"

"Yeah, cause lavender is another name for purple," she interrupted you with a matter-of-fact tone, "saying it's green is just weird!"

"Hmmm, it might be different," you conceded, seeing the opportunity for a lesson. "But either way you sing it, it's still a really pretty song, isn't it? Things can be different but it doesn't mean one is only good and one is only bad. Each version just had different good things."

Annie went silent again but this time you didn't worry about it, you knew she was thinking about what you said and needed time to apply it to what was happening right now. You eventually heard the shifting of metal and the creak of wood and had to will yourself to sit still and calm. The way you had let her approach you had worked so far, jumping up out of excitement could possibly erase all the progress you'd made so far.

Your patience was rewarded when Annie stepped out of the shed and lowered herself so that she was sitting on the blanket right next to you. Turning your head just enough to see her in your peripheral, you noticed how dull her eyes looked. Her hair was a mess and her skin looked pale for a kid who had been living under California's sun.

"My mommy is dead."

The way it was stated as a fact, with very little emotion, broke your heart. She was so little, so young, and so unable to fully grasp what kind of future had been ripped away from her.

"I know, I'm sorry that that happened to your mom."

"That man is my daddy." She was pointing at Frankie now, who was still engrossed in his conversation with Sharon.

"He's a pretty lucky guy to have you."

"That's the lady who has been taking care of me, she's been nice."

You were a bit out of your comfort zone with the conversation but there was no way in hell you were going drop it so you cautiously trudged on. Maybe verbalizing relationships and titles was helping her process?

"I'm very happy to hear that you've been staying with someone nice. Your dad is a really nice person, too, ya know? You should see the nice bedroom he's set up for you! I even helped him bake you an apple pie. Do you like apples? Or pie?" Her eyes went wide and a spark of happiness suddenly lit her face, making her appear more childlike than before.

"Is this an apple farm?" She practically squealed. “Like in My Little Pony?!”

Her outburst had finally drawn the attention of the other two adults, who were now only realizing that Annie had exited the shed. Frankie's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his two girls, beaming at each other. The twinge of jealousy from knowing that it had been you to draw her out was quickly squashed by how proud of you he was. He had been a little worried, although he hadn't voiced it, that his kid wouldn't take kindly to having a woman around but those fears were obviously for naught.

Part Fourteen 

#Frankie Morales x fem!Reader #Frankie Morales x f!reader #Francisco Morales x fem!reader #Francisco Morales x f!reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x fem!reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x f!reader #fix'er upper #Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales fanfiction

[extremelyblackandwhite]

invisible string

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, harassing

a/n: sequel to willow. wanda is a tarot reader and you cannot tell me otherwise. it is canon. 

WILLOW - TOLERATE IT

Time, curious time gave me no compasses, gave me no signs. Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?

James was taken aback by her move, watching his black king cornered by both her white queen and king. How had he not seen it? It was right there ever since she moved her queen to lay in F7 right at the beginning of the game. How? It didn’t matter but her naughty smile, pushing at the corner of her chapstick painted lips left no doubt to who had won this game. He bit his lip leaning against the couch, full view of the glass chess board. She had less pieces left than him but she had still managed to won and as such he extended his hand towards her. She looked at his hand hesitantly, her winning grin fading and her usual insecurity returned as a shake hand came to shake his. 

     - No one has won a game against me in years. - he grabbed the glass black king from the board, handing it to her. - How’d you do it?

     - You wanted my king. You wanted it so badly you forgot about your own, so I distracted you with minor pieces. Gave you the false sense of security you had it and then struck down.

   - That’s such a dirty trick, petal. - he leaned against the velvet fabric of the armchair, eyeing her up and down. She felt naked under his gaze, almost as if he could see through her walls and clothing. She guessed a man like him needed to have such a sharp eye but it wasn’t any less intimidating, even if she had just won a chess match against him.

He rose slowly from the armchair, his feet moving slowly towards a silver cart leaning against a wall, just under an abstract painting with several glass bottles of several coloured liquids. He took the glass stone from one of them, pouring some of the dark amber liquid onto two glasses before offering one to Y/N.

  - Glenlivet. - he spoke out, noticing the confusion on her face. - You’re old enough to drink, aren’t you?

  - How old do you think I am Mr. Barnes? I thought you knew everything about your employees.

  - And I do, petal. I know where you went to school, kindergarten even, know the name of your friends and that’s all from one of my men following you for a day. - Bucky rose his glass in a small toast before starting to drink. Y/N’s colour drained from her face as she started to wonder if she’d gone to see his father in the precinct. She hadn’t. At least she thought yet her body started shaking and it became harder to breathe. - Y/N? Hey, are you okay?

  - Yeah ... I just need some fresh air. - she tried to get up from the couch but she couldn’t, her nerves getting over her. What if he’d heard her speak about the undercover job, she was dead, she was definitely flirting with death the moment she stepped into his home. 

   - Someone was following you from the bar, petal. I’m not going to kill you, if I were to kill you it wouldn’t be in the comfort of my own home. Blood is a bitch to take out of white carpets. - Bucky once again seemed to read through her. He once again got up from his couch, placing his gun on the marbled island of his kitchen before returning to her. - You’re paranoid, petal.

   - It’s not ... I don’t really like being followed. Why were you following me? 

   - That guy from the bar followed you home and since he got his head smashed against the counter and a drink thrown in his face, I thought better to send Steve after you for that night. You are awfully clumsy and if you had any real enemies, you’d be dead by now. You leave your key under the entry matt and so does your housemate and her lousy brother too. Twins?

   - Yes.

   - You’re so afraid of me but in all honesty petal, you’re the biggest danger to yourself. 

   - Has Steve followed me recently?

   - No. I’ve been driving you home ever since, park a bit outside campus to ensure you get in. It’s an ugly world out there, petal.

   - I know. Trust me, I do ...

After her mother died, the home she had once learned to love lost its homey feeling. Suddenly, the home that always smelled like fresh lemon tarts and gardenias was now dark. His father left his case files all over the kitchen and would sit at the table smoking his cigars with a glass of port as he read through the cases. Her father loved her, he did, just in his own way. 

She still remembered peaking by the door, holding onto a blanket her mother had quilted for her with her name embroidered in aqua blue, and seeing the photos scattered around the table of murders, abusers, robberies. She knew there was darkness, she just preferred to ignore it.

   - You live inside your head very often don’t you? - he eyed her as she took a sip of the drink he had offered her. Scotch was never her drink of choice, she preferred not to drink at all seeing how it had soured her father. Yet, she guessed a centenary drink was no joke.

   - That’s called being an only child, Mr. Barnes. Besides, my ideas are rarely worth listening.

   - Hm, I see ... Perhaps you’d like to see your room? - he changed the conversation, offering a hand to her so she could get up. 

Her soft fingers wrapped around his cold hand, a stark contrast to her warm hand. Bucky finger lingered over the top of her palm, feeling the softness and plumpness of her skin compared to his scarred, rough one. She didn’t mind, she followed him happily through the halls of his way too big house. 

Steve had told him when he bought it that it was too big for himself alone but for Bucky buying a big flat meant he made it, he could now tell everyone else who doubted him to fuck off yet it was hard to come back to it at the end of the day. Always clean and always empty. The staff didn’t stay behind for much longer, having heard all sorts of rumours and he believed if Y/N wasn’t so afraid of him, she would’ve probably left. Yet, he couldn’t find himself to sell the flat so he just slept in hotel rooms. Smaller roomers where it didn’t feel like the emptiness surrounded him constantly. 

He led her to one of the guest rooms he had decorated in soft pinks, whites and greys. Bucky guessed it’d make her comfortable, it matched her cardigans and little embroidered dresses she would bring around to the bar despite most of his waitresses constantly berating her on it, saying it would get her no tips. 

Y/N peaked through the door crack as he opened it. The room was rather soft with a large king sized bed with white and blush pink bedding along with a grey rug nearby. With so many bedrooms, he probably had enough time to decorate each one with a different colour palette. 

    - There should be some pyjamas in the wardrobe. Might be a bit big but it’s better than sleeping with your clothes on. 

   - You seem prepared. Is this where you bring your mistresses?

   - My mistresses don’t sleep in my house. - why would you say that, Y/N? Are you trying to get yourself killed? - I’ll drive you home tomorrow at 8AM so you should go to sleep. Goodnight, petal.

  - Thank you. Goodnight, Mr. Barnes. - he closed the door behind her and she was left with herself in the bedroom.

She padded around the linoleum floors, phone in hand as she photographed the horizon so maybe her father could locate the house and search for evidence. Y/N couldn’t. She couldn’t find herself to go investigating his house as he was kind enough to offer her a place to stay. Instead she just investigated the room which was so much better. It was a suite with its own bathroom decorated with monogramed fluffy white towels and white marbled surfaces. She wondered why he wouldn’t bring someone here, it was clearly a work of architectural art but yet again, maybe don’t show strangers where you sleep. Maybe he shouldn’t have shown it to her. 

At least she was doing something right. At least he didn’t hate her enough not to allow her to listen to his conversations, to the talks of deals that would surely provide her father’s precinct with the clues that they were not insane to think that there were tradings happening under their noses. She was doing good but she felt dirty nonetheless. She didn’t like lying but she also wanted to graduate, to be something other than the Capitan’s daughter.

She ignored her mind and got dressed in the steamed and washed pyjamas that were hanging on the silk hanger of the closet and got inside the bed. She was okay, she was going to be okay. 

The daylight ruptured through the night and she was the first one up to get dressed and make the bed as well as put the pyjamas back on their place. Bucky didn’t take long to knock on her door and as she opened it there he was again, polished suit and hair as if looking casual destroyed the whole appearance. It didn’t, he was a handsome man and she was absolutely certain he would look handsome in anything. 

    - Did you sleep well? - he questioned as she stepped out the room, holding onto her worn out faux leather brown satchel. 

   - Yes, it’s a very comfortable bed. What about you? 

   - I don’t have time to sleep, petal. I was thinking about having some breakfast before I dropped you off, if that’s okay with you.

   - I just want to get back home. My flatmate might worry. 

Bucky didn’t force her. She was like any other staff and he guessed having breakfast with the mob boss wasn’t her idea of a good spent morning, besides, she probably still needed to go to class. He drove her back to her small, unsafe which she saw as safe flat, keeping an eye on her every once in a while. Her posture was rigid or even one that a manner teacher wouldn’t correct, it was slouched over his window, hand under her chin as she observed the early morning light illuminate the city. 

Getting to campus during early mornings were always funny to her as she never knew what she would find; some students would be still returning from nights out while some would exit the library with piles and piles of books and notes. Either way, it was always a fun game. He stopped in front of her flat, putting the car on stop, engine slowly lowering its sounds. 

   - Thank you for bringing me, Mr. Barnes. - she held her satchel against her chest. 

   - You got an evening dress? Cocktail party maybe? 

   - So not a black dress? - she teased, biting the skin of inner lip. 

   - Definitely not. 

   - I think I might have something.

   - You’re not working tonight, you’re coming with me to an auction. I’ll pay you double the salary of a nightshift if you say yes.

   - Plus night wages?

   - Everything you’d get paid a night, I’ll double it. 

   - I’ll get to work finding that dress then. - she opened the door of his car, exiting before waving him goodbye.

Getting inside her flat, she could definitely sense the difference between worlds she was living in. Spend time with James Barnes, her father told her. Besides, how bad could an action be? There were several people there and if she knew what he was buying maybe it would prove useful in the future.

She climbed the stairs up to her door which was slightly open. She would’ve questioned why had it not been for Pietro’s voice echoing through the whole hall. Of course. None of them really close the door whenever the other one is around. 

    - Wanda, I’m telling you, that’s bullshit. - he told his sister who merely rolled her eyes at him. - Shuffle it again.

    - It says you’re a fuckboy deal with it. - she crossed her arms, before noticing Y/N had come in. - Hey you, you’re here early. I thought you were gonna appreciate your motel stay for a little while. 

   - Well, I ... I was just homesick. - she lied. Wanda clearly wouldn’t like to know where she had spent the night. - What are you guys doing?

   - Pietro asked me to do a reading on him and he’s upset at the result. As per usual.

   - I’m telling you the deck is broken. Do Y/N. - he pointed at the captain’s daughter who sat down by the coffee table where the two were. Wanda shrugged and asked Y/N to touch the deck before she started to shuffle it, three cards falling onto the table as soon as she did.

The Lovers, the Devil and Death. Y/N knew those cards all too well, she loved roaming through Wanda’s deck and marvel at the beautiful pictures and Wanda normally told her that the Death card was not as bad as everyone made it look like as well as the Devil. However, this time, all the colour drained from the brunette’s face as the stared at the cards fallen on the table. She shuffled the deck again, hoping for more cards, this time getting the Six and Nine of Swords. 

   - Everything okay, Wan? - she asked her friend who was intensely staring at the cards in front of her. 

   - Yeah ... I guess Pietro is right, the deck is broken.

   - See? I told you so. You never listen to me. 

   - I think I should be getting to class now. - she interrupted the two sibling’s bickering. - I’ll see you later. 

She spent most of her classes thinking about the auction. It was harmless enough and her father was over the moon, telling her she should be proud that she was now part of the “inner circle”, whatever that meant. Nevertheless, she was getting paid double which would always help with rent and utilities. The last module took hours of a lecturer going through yet another generic powerpoint followed by a class of over a hundred students rushing out the door the moment it was over. 

She took to her bedroom before Wanda arrived to search for the only evening dress she had which barely saw the light of day, mostly living inside the black box over her wardrobe. It was her mother’s, something she had left behind that Y/N had taken a particular liking to once she grew up. It was a baby pink slip dress with the hem in matching lace and she guessed it would be appropriate for an auction. 

   - Where are you going? - Wanda asked as Y/N stepped out of the room. Shit. Of all the days for her to be home early, it just had to be today. - What are you doing wearing your mum’s dress?

   - It’s fancy dress day at the bar. 

   - Fancy dress day at a mob bar?

   - Clearly. 

   - What are you hid ... - Wanda was interrupted by Y/N’s phone. Mr. Barnes had texted her he was outside just at the right time. 

   - I’ll see you later, Wan. Have fun but not too much fun.

Before the brunette could question her, Y/N was already out the door, bag in hand. She went down the stairs and outside where Mr. Barnes was leaning against his car, dressed in a navy blue suit which made him look like a model gracing the cover’s of fashion magazines. 

    - You’re supposed to make me wait, petal. 

    - I like being on time. - she walked up to him, standing less than an arm’s distance from the posh dressed mob boss. 

    - I should start by warning you not to go by your real name today. Safety purposes. 

   - What should I call myself then? Your date? - she asked as he helped her inside the car. 

   - You can call yourself whatever you’d like, petal. As long as it’s not your real name and I know what name you’re going by. 

   - Uhm ... I wanna go by Betty. 

   - Betty?

   - Like Betty Draper from Mad Men. She sounds like the type of woman who would go to an auction.

  - So you wanna be Betty Drapper? - Bucky hide a small smile as he drove through the dark night. 

  - No, I wanna be called Betty for tonight. - she leaned against the comfortable seatings of his car. 

“You’re part of the inner circle now, darling. Do something about it”, her father’s words echoed in her mind through the faint sound of the radio playing Doris Day. Yet again she had no idea how going to an auction would be a break in the case unless Mr. Barnes was buying weapons or drugs. The fact she was going by a different name didn’t calm her nerves but he wouldn’t kill her in a public setting. She watched the trees pass by from the window of his car  until they reached a big white house which could be certainly considered a mansion.

Mr. Barnes got off his car while the engine was still roaring, handing the key to the valet before opening her door. She looked up at him, blinded by the fairy lights all around the mansion and suddenly she got nervous, very nervous. Nevertheless, she took his help in getting off the car, walking to his left as the valet drove away with his car. 

    - We’re sticking with Betty? - he asked as they climbed up the stairs to the entry of the mansion. 

    - We are. - she nodded as he knocked on the door. A poshly dressed man opened the door allowing for her to peak inside. The room was full of people chatting to each other, champagne flutes in hand of roaring laughter. This was definitely different from the environment she was used to back at the club. 

Without noticing, she clung to his side as he moved through the seas of people drinking and admiring art work which she guessed was what was being auctioned until they got stopped by a slightly shorter than him man dressed in a black tuxedo. 

    - Barnes, you made it. I saved some of your favourite pieces for you. - he was happily talking until he noticed Y/N by the mob boss’ side. - Who is this lovely lady?

    - This is Betty. - he was an excellent liar, even she would’ve believed her name was Betty.

    - Pleasure to meet you, miss. - he curtsied which greatly confused her. - Do you want to come see them? I told my Miriam that the Proserpina paintings would be for Mr. Barnes when we started picking pieces. 

The mob boss was sweet on art? She curiously followed them into a badly light room in shades of burgundy and dark browns where several paintings. She observed them with an innocent look as Bucky heard about the prices and its overall worth. Of course they were not going into auction, they had been saved for him and him alone. He was important, stupidly important when compared to these other people. She could hear whispering from other people as he passed by, away from the room through other people.

The man, whose name Y/N still hadn’t really heard, left them in the entrance with everyone else, two champagne flutes immediately making their way to them. Yet, she still didn’t know exactly what to do. What would this be of use to her father? Someone liking art was common, something very common. Once again useless. 

   - Why did you bring me here if you don’t even need to attend the auction?

   - It’s a bad look to appear unaccompanied. Besides, I’d like to see the auction tonight.

   - I didn’t know you liked art. 

   - You thought I’d only like to see people dying, petal? - he spoke in a soft, calm manner but she could see his smirk through his strong facade. 

   - Look who it is. - Bucky’s face switched into an heavy expression, something Y/N barely saw and didn’t like to see. His arm pulled her behind him as someone dressed in what looked like a taffeta black suit walked up to him accompanied by a black haired woman in a skin tight burgundy dress much more sensual than Y/N’s blush pink flared dress. - James Buchanan Barnes, I thought you didn’t visit this part of town.

   - Rumlow, I visit whatever part I want. 

   - You remember my wife Rachel. - he pointed at the woman nearby him. - I don’t think I remember your friend. Care to introduce us?

   - This is Betty. She’s Sharon’s niece. 

   - Pleasure. There sure are lovely jewellery pieces tonight at auction, aren’t there?

   - And I believe I should care about those since I’m a woman. - Y/N gave him a forced smile, earning a scoff from Bucky who was trying not to laugh at her quick wit. 

    - I’m here to bid on the Elizabeth earrings. They’re a brilliant piece, don’t you think?

    - Yes, well ... we should be getting to our seats. - Bucky ignored the request for continuing the conversation, instead holding Y/N’s hand and leading her towards the auction room.

That was an odd conversation, one with underlying feelings of animosity. Maybe coming here was worth it, maybe that name “Rumlow” would be of use to her father. However, it didn’t matter as she was rather exciting to be in her very first auction. Sitting down in gold painted chairs she could see the paddles with several numbers and even the odd gentleman with a monocle. 

Bucky looked at her with a faint smile, observing how his world seemed to still entice her as for him it had long its spark a long, long time ago. People kept sitting down and soon enough the auctioneer was on the stage presenting pieces and shouting values of high amounts of money. High enough to pay for the rest of her degree, a masters and a few PhDs but she guessed this was how high society lived.

    - Finally, one of tonight’s most special pieces. - the man pointed at a pair of earrings on a glass box. - The Elizabeth earrings are made of white gold with two diamonds taken from The Cullinan diamond, one of the most precious in the world whose siblings belong to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth. Let’s start at 5 thousand.

Brock raised his paddle.

   - 5 thousand, does anyone says 6 thousand?

James rose his own paddle, surprising Y/N. She thought he was only here for the painting. 

   - 6 thousand, 7 thousand? - Brock once again rose his paddle. - 7 thousand, 8 thousand? 

Bucky once again rose his paddle, smirk on his face. He always enjoyed the chase and an auction chase was no exception. Besides, he would love to win those earrings just to piss off Brock Rumlow. 

   - 8 thousand, 9 thousand? - Brock rose his paddle again. - 9 thousand, 10 thousand?

   - 5 hundred thousand. - Bucky spoke out loud and clear for everyone to hear.

   - 5 hundred thousand, any higher? - Y/N’s gaze moved over to Brock who kept his paddle neatly in the middle of his lap, an upset expression gracing his face. His face moved to look at Barnes but he didn’t care, holding a winning smile on his lips. - Going once, going twice, going thrice ... Sold to Mr. Barnes. Congratulations.

Bucky didn’t low himself down to look at Rumlow instead getting up once the auction was over. Y/N followed him, curiosity once again getting hold of her and every fibre of hers. She had never seen diamonds in person, much less as precious as these ones were so once she went into the back and saw the woman place them into a red velvet box, she was done for. They placed the box on a nice black matte bag and handed it over to Mr. Barnes along with the certification of authenticity. 

The auction after party become boring afterwards, with Rumlow giving Barnes a look no one would like to receive and him having little to no care about it. At around 11PM, the time she would end her shift today, he started to walk away, tipping the valet some money to fetch his car while both of them waited outside. It was a cold night, the wind moaning in slow blows and suddenly she regretted not bringing a jacket. 

   - You should’ve brought a jacket. - before she could roll her eyes at this comment, she felt something fall onto her shoulders. Looking to the right shoulder, she recognised the navy blue fabric of his suit’s jacket. - Did you enjoy being someone else for the evening?

   - I didn’t envision my alter ego being Steve’s girlfriend’s family but I’ll accept it. It was nice, thank you for bringing me. 

   - My pleasure, Betty. - he joked. - I do prefer your name over Betty.

The valet brought back his beloved car and handed back the keys. It had been a rather fun night, one that surely went above and beyond her expectations. At least she had a name to give to her father, one of a contact that would be willing to speak about Barnes. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but feel absolutely dirty about it. He hadn’t done anything bad to her, anything that would consider her betrayal. He’d hurt people, or at least that’s what her father said. He’d hurt people, but she’d only seen him doing it to those who actually deserved it. It was wrong, it was wrong but she had too. 

These thoughts kept her quiet, with eyes on the road. This was bad, this was bad, how was she going to betray him but that was the job. Feel nothing, her father had told her before, feel nothing and don’t get hurt. She didn’t want him to get locked up yet again maybe she was too innocent to see what was really happening. 

    - We’re here, Y/N. - he killed the engine, stopping in front of the building. - You don’t look alright. Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?

   - Oh, no, no. I’m just tired. - she lied. Once again lying. 

   - I’m sorry for keeping you up this late. I’ll double your night pay too.

   - It’s not necessary, Mr. Barnes.

   - Bucky.

   - Pardon?

   - Call me Bucky. - he corrected her. - From now on, you can call me Bucky.

   - Bucky. - she repeated, a silly smile forming on her face. - Well, goodnight Bucky.

   - Goodnight, petal. Don’t forget your bag. - he handed her bag to the young girl before waving his last goodbye.

She stood in the sidewalk, watching his car leave with a silly smile on her face. Why was she even smiling? She should be feeling guilty, not smiley. Yet she was stuck in the middle of those two emotions. She needed to go back to bed, that’s what she needed. She needed to go back to her bed and sleep it through so like every single night, she climbed the stairs up to her flat. Once in front of her old student flat door, she opened her wallet to search for her keys.

Damned keys, always seemed to disappear in the darkness of her bag and as she rummaged through the contents she had been throwing inside her bag over the years. As she kept searching for her keys, something fell from her bag onto the bag. 

   - Shit. - she mumbled to herself, squatting down to grab what had fallen. Her mouth opened agape as she saw the same velvet blue box from the auction. Looking around and seeing no one around, she opened the box and there they were, the same earrings she had seen on the auction glass along with a note. Maybe Betty will like them. JBB. - I can’t believe it.

Once again, smiling like a fool. She couldn’t believe it, it couldn’t be, it had to be some sort of mistake. These were 5 hundred thousand dollar pair of earrings for a woman who was wearing a hand me down dress from her mother. Before someone else could see them she shoved them back inside her purse, opening the door to her flat.

   - We need to talk. 

taglist: @lookiamtrying @mariamermaid @sebastianstansqueen @unmagically @buckybarnes1982 @mela-noche @lowercasegenius @randomweirdooo @projectcampbell @sebbystanlover-vk @jevans2 @hollarious @itsallyscorner​ 

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[stevenbasic]

Looking at the IG of one of the new applicants, Dr J thinks: What's this one's story?

About a year ago, huh..?

...

The reunion was in full swing, and Angie sipped the straw of her vodka tonic, alone for the moment at the edge of the crowd, watching him. She’d come into the evening like she did into most crowds: thinking she was the smartest person in the room. True, it’s not like she’d ended up top of her class - it’d been ten years since graduating from Middlesex High with these morons - or had found herself at a top-tier college. She totally could have, she always thought, if she had really wanted to. She just never put in the effort, it hadn’t meant enough to her. But she could have been valedictorian, for sure, right? And gone to an ivy-league? She just never set her mind to it, she told herself. Plus, back then, she didn’t have the tits...

Angie Wade was, certainly, what most people would call a “late bloomer”. Not only had her academic and career successes mainly come after her teen years in High School - she’d graduated with Honors from Bowling Green, got her Masters, and now managed two (soon to be three) branches of KLG Bank - but her figure had taken some time to come in, also. When she had graduated, she had been a mostly forgettable member of the drama club, the thin, unremarkable brunette with the big forehead. But, soon, things changed. Since high school she’d put on - haha - nearly thirty pounds, the majority of it generously deposited into the fleshy curves she’d squeezed into this low-cut black top and tight, tight knee-length white skirt. She wanted these people - him especially - to see what had become of Angie Wade, to realize what they had missed. And, the evening had gone predictably. Most of the girls, even some she’d been friendly with in school, either wanted nothing to do with her or treated her with snobby derision - fuck them. Because every guy she’d spoken to tonight had been very keen to chat. Most had given her at least a fleeting glance down her top, and many could barely keep from staring. But she hadn’t talked to AJ Shaw yet....

...and he was right over there.

...

AJ stood at the banquet hall’s bar, idly stirring his bacardi and coke, while Megan Rommety chatted animatedly in his left ear. He’d learned, among a prattling twenty minutes’ worth of other things, that she was a recent divorcee (“her decision”, to hear her tell it) She was trying to flirt with him, he had no doubt.  He had been excited about coming to this thing, the 10-year reunion for his Middlesex High School Class. He still hung out, pretty regularly, with some friends from the football team; he’d even hired a couple to work on his construction team. He still touched base with old girlfriends from time-to-time, Facebook or wherever; it was cool to see them with kids and flirt with them behind their husbands’ backs. But maybe there’d be some people from out of town to catch up with. Like Megan here: they’d been in a couple classes together, she’d dated a friend of his, been on the tennis team. She was nice to see, for the first few minutes, but now she was beginning to overstay her welcome in the seat next to him. “...anyway, after I kicked Brad out, I sold the house and bought my own condo down by the lake,” Megan was saying, stirring the ice cube in her chardonnay, “sooooo nice. Real hardwood floors, a view. You just have to come see it! In fact, kids are at my mom’s tonight and…” WHoahhh...Who was THAT?

“Yeah, I uh….” he said Wearing a black, low-cut top that revealed an impressive bulge of soft, creamy cleavage, she was smiling over at him, from across the room. In fact, “smile” might have been too soft of a word. There was something dramatic about the look she was giving him, something….yikes. His stomach fluttered and everything Megan was saying was being droned out, dissolving to just a buzz on his left. Taking a sip of her drink, this woman held his eye contact for an uncomfortably long time, before she began to strut over towards him. My god, AJ thought, that is a strut. Straight back and proud, each step in her killer heels brought a new jiggle to her chest and an extra sway to her hips in her tight, white skirt. This was a woman who knew how to walk, he could see that for sure, and draw eyes to herself. Was this someone from his class?? He had forgotten that he was in the middle of a sentence, a conversation. Hell, he practically forgot where he was. He’d kinda found that happening, recently. Pretty women seemed to throw him off base more easily than they used to. Ones with boobs, especially. “Hiya, remember me?” she said, sidling up to the bar and unceremoniously boxing Megan out. He tried to keep his eyes up, on her face, on her wide, wide smile. He knew he would look like an asshole if his eyes dropped to her tits….but it was a struggle. “I…uh” he began, as his mind began to work. He was usually so good at this! He felt like he knew everybody from his class, or at least everyone important. Especially the hot ones! But he was having trouble remembering this one, her name. Her face was sorta familiar, but he certainly didn’t recognize those curves from high school. “Uhmmmm…”

“Angie Wade?”  Megan interjected, from half-behind the newcomer.

Oh yeah, Angela Wade.

“Angie Wade?” AJ finally managed, lights beginning to click on, “You were in drama club, right?” “That’s me!” Angie beamed, biting her lower lip flirtatiously, “You DO remember me!” He...he did remember her, yes, Angie. But certainly not like this. The Angie Wade he remembered had been...skinny. Maybe not quite a dork, but not someone with whom he’d ever associate. If he recalled, his friends had told him she’d been an admirer of his. God, if he’d known she’d grow up into this...wow, she really grew a pair. “Excuse me,” Megan piped in, pushing her short, coiffed-blonde hair behind her ear, “We...were in the middle of a conversation?” Obviously annoyed, Megan could see how AJ’s attention had suddenly been drawn to Angie Wade and her big new tits. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Angie responded, not bothering to hide a note of condescension. She shifted to unblock Megan from the conversation, a move that just brought her closer to AJ’s left side, and in fact let her press her big right breast into his left arm. She felt him shudder, almost imperceptibly, but tried to keep her smile to herself.

Angie glanced Megan up and down with a coy smirk before turning back to AJ. “So...Nice suit! You look great,” she said, knowing men’s weaknesses for flattery, “Seems like you’re doing well?” “Um, yeah! Thanks!,” AJ replied, wincing as he heard the weird enthusiasm in his voice. He can’t come across as creepy, just talking to this girl ‘cuz she’s built. He knew he had to maintain himself, his composure. “I’ve been good,” he continued, “Staying busy with work and-” Angie cut him off. “Yeah, I saw that your company has a bid in to renovate the stadium downtown,” she said, letting her eyes sparkle in admiration. Men loved that. “That’s soooo great…” They also loved this bimbo talk, she’d learned. “Yeah well, it’s um… an exciting project,” He finished lamely, glancing over at Megan, whose glare had gone icy. What was he doing? This was rude. He should try to involve Megan some more, but found himself just really not wanting to. “But enough about me,” he said to Angie, admiring the dramatically dark makeup around her eyes, “How are you doing?” “I’m doing SO, SO good!” Angie sang, right hand reaching behind AJ’s back, resting on a shoulder. Megan scoffed, watching as her left hand then found his knee. What a tramp. “‘So so good’?” Megan finally snapped, the derision in her voice unmistakable, “Last I heard you were working at Hooters. Brad said he saw you th-” “Oh, did he? Brad, your husband?” Angie smiled, turning finally to address Megan, smile big and white.

“Ex...husband…” Megan said, voice quickly fading.

“Hm. Well, did Brad mention that he used to come in every Tuesday and Thursday for lunch, with guys from work, or sometimes just by himself?” Angie continued, a new edge to her voice, “And when I moved to just weekends, he started showing up then, too?” She smiled as she saw Megan’s eyes go wide. She loved doing this shit to prissy bitches like Megan, when they thought they could flex. “Did Brad tell you that he always asked to be sat in my section, and when I finally left he’d asked the other girls about me? Where I went? Asked for my number?”

Megan’s jaw had started to quiver, and Angie had to keep herself from laughing. She remembered Brad, though it had been awhile. Guys from their old high school had often come to Hooters to drool, whether it was over her or younger girls like Shanette or Missy. Brad had been no different. “I guess he just saw something he liked…. “ Angie concluded, straightening her shoulders and pushing her boobs forward - which drew a glance from AJ, she noticed. “Maybe something he didn’t have at home?” “Holy shit y-you bitch,” Megan sputtered, doing her best to sound appalled but glancing down at her own modest bust, unable to keep from feeling a little inadequate. Yes, Brad had been “a boob guy”... Ignoring the insult with practiced aplomb, Angie turned back to AJ, catching him looking down her top. “Besides, you don’t mind...do you AJ?” she asked him, squeezing her right breast more firmly into his nicely-muscled arm, rubbing his broad shoulder through his suit jacket, “That I used to work at Hooters?” “Um, uh, what?” he stammered, uncomfortable with the tense exchange that had just happened between these two girls, feeling weird that he’d just sat here, passively. How was he supposed to answer this? “No...not at all,” he managed, “I think, uh, service work is perfectly dignified…” “See?” Angie giggled, still rubbing his shoulder and rewarding him with an extra bit of boob, “Good boy.”  Angie giggled again, so pleased with herself. Megan, for herself, looked aghast, watching AJ - who she always thought was a pretty well-put-together guy - fall for this bimbo’s simple little tricks. God, what a pair of tits can do... “I…” “..was just leaving” Angie finished for her, fixing her with a bright white smile and withering stare. She watched as Megan took her drink and stood from her stool. “You gonna go call Brad?” she added, for good measure, “Tell him Angie from Hooters said hello.” “Tell him yourself,” Megan sneered, and then turned to him, “And, AJ, nice talking to you. Have fun with the Titty Monster.” With that she stomped off, and Angie’s smile curled.

“‘Titty Monster’”, Angie repeated, chuckling to herself, “That’s rich. I think I’ll use that.” She bit her lip, narrowed her eyes. “So….” she began, turning all her attention back on AJ, her high school crush. She almost couldn’t believe it herself: here she was, little Angie Wade, proudly claiming Aaron Joseph Shaw for herself, just because she could. It was like wrapping him around her little finger. “Can I have a seat?” “Oh, uh, yeah,” AJ replied, shaking his head. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t even said goodbye to Megan. “Of course…”

AJ half-stood, chivalrously, as if to help Angie up into Megan’s now-empty chair. He sat back, finally, and began to order them both a drink from the bartender with the dramatic mustache.

“Two vodka tonics, please,” Angie had insisted, speaking over him with a will that made his loins clinch.

From there, the flirting began in earnest, disguised by a conversation about their jobs. Angie avoided divulging too much about her situation, her successes at the bank. She knew the male ego could be a fragile thing, and she didn’t want to scare him away. AJ seemed to be a successful guy himself, in his own way, but boys tended to like their girls dumb, and she could play that up a bit when she needed to. So, no mention of the degrees, no mention of the awards. Instead, she had leaned forward towards him just enough to open her cleavage for his approval. 

God, she has great tits, he thought to himself, marveling at their swell and mass, and I’m really getting to be a tit-guy these days. His eyes just could not keep themselves from falling down her top, and she seemed not to mind in the least. In fact, after their second drink together, her hand had found its way back to his knee and seemed to give him an encouraging squeeze every time his gaze strayed to her chest. She...she actually likes that I’m looking at her tits, he finally convinced himself, and had slowly started to relax.

After another drink, Angie finally sat up, stock straight, and slowly stretched her shoulders back to look around the room. Some of their old classmates had begun to leave, and the room was less abuzz than it had been. Predictably, his eyes had gone straight to her chest, and shot away before she met his gaze again. She waited for him to talk, knowing exactly what he wanted.

“So, it looks like things are starting to quiet down here,” he finally asked, “do you, uh, need a ride?”

Bingo. “No, I drove myself,” she answered, watching his face, seeing the old gears turning. 

“Well, I was thinking about, y’know,” he began again, poking at the remaining ice in his drink,  “heading back to my loft, downtown, if you wanted to, like, come with me…?” Angie smiled, and leaned in towards him, squeezing her arms together in a dramatic show of cleavage. “Hmmm, well,” she purred, watching his eyes struggle to maintain her gaze, “how about you come to my place tonight sweetie. It’s closer....” 

At that, she leaned in to his ear, and whispered into it with a voice thick with seduction. “And I still have my Hooters outfit at home. I can try it on for you….see if it still fits?” 

============================================

Angie attacks! A little GITJ tangent thread being co-written with AgeoftheGiantess, who you may know from GTScity. Look for her story to continue.

Next post, our first entry by new contributor Joyce Julep, available at my Patreon

#Growing Into the Job

[impala666]

The One With Mrs. Bing Part One: She’s Back

Here we are. The episode I have been very excited about. Enjoy!

Friends rewrite (masterlist) Last Part (The One With The Monkey Part 4) 

Last night you had slept on the couch, you just wanted a little bit of your own space. During the night it had been nice, but now you were laying on your stomach with your face buried in your pillow trying to sleep. While you could hear Chandler making breakfast and drinking coffee before he headed off to work. You had to work yourself at the store in a few hours, but you just didn’t want to get up yet. The only thing that was going to help make your day was that you didn’t have that long of a shift anyway. So you’d work for a few hours and then spend many more hours with your friends just hanging out. Finally, you decided that enough was enough and it was time for you to get up and face your day. So rolling onto your back you let out a loud sigh and pushed the blankets off of you before you managed to make it to your feet. “Good morning, sunshine!” Chandler optimistically greeted you. You stopped at the peninsula of the counter and just glared at him, with your hair a big tangled mess which only made him smile more. “What?” He asked you, taking a sip from his coffee cup.

“You’re just being really cheery and I thought that was weird.” You shrugged it off though and entered the kitchen to get your own cup of coffee. 

“Where’s Joey?” Chandler asked.

“Not sure.” You answered honestly. “Probably still sleeping would be my guess.”

“How’s that going? I know you wanted to slow down, is that good?” Your big brother asked, just to check in on you.

“It’s been going great! He’s been surprisingly understanding and incredibly supportive. It’s just nice to have people who support me instead of trying to tear me down.” You smiled as you sat down across from him at the table.

“And you’re always going to from now on. Besides, if anyone knows about leaving home to pursue a career path that doesn’t meet the parents expectations other than you, it would definitely be Joey.” Chandler smiled at you in proudness and supportiveness.

“I know,” you told him with a small smile. For once in your life it was nice to know that if you fell, you had friends there to catch you and help you get back on your feet. You never had that with your parents; you could barely remember your dad before he got a divorce from your mom who was hardly ever home to begin with. All you really ever had was Chandler, at least you had him up until the moment your mom shipped him off to boarding school and then you were basically all alone until now. “And thanks for bringing up the whole disappointed parent thing.” You smiled at him in sarcastic thanks. 

“You are welcome,” Chandler chuckled along with your sarcasm. Then the both of you just continued to talk about your daily lives until Chandler had to go to work and you unfortunately had to start getting ready. 

********

All of you were finally done with your work day, so all of you went over to Monica and Rachel’s for some dinner all together telling each other about your day, to your surprise Phoebe and Monica had quite an exciting one. They caused a man they thought was attractive to be hit by an ambulance. “There are no conscious men in the city for you two?” Chandler asked, leaning against the couch as he silently judged his friends. 

“He doesn’t have anyone,” Monica defended herself and Phoebe. 

“Yeah. We feel kind of responsible.” Phoebe agreed. 

“I mean,” you started all high pitched, but when you felt Joey put his hand on your waist from behind you, you stopped when you heard him chuckle.

“I can’t believe you said woo-hoo.” Joey added as he kept laughing slightly. “I don’t even say woo-hoo.” 

“Oh! She’s coming up!” Rachel announced to everyone as she grabbed the TV remote and turned the volume up. Everyone else was excited to see who was going to be on the screen, but you and Chandler couldn’t help but make eye contact and roll your eyes. 

“When we come back we’ll be talking about her new book, Euphoria Unbound. The always interesting Nora Tyler Bing. You might want to put the kids to bed for this one.” Jay Leno announced as he lifted up his copy of your mothers latest erotic novels. You couldn’t help but feel sadder and sadder the more he talked about her before they went to commercial. Ross, Monica, and Joey sat next to you with big excited smiles on their faces. Chandler already didn’t want to watch this but when he saw you drooping into the couch and your smile falling into a frown with a sad look on his face, he knew he couldn’t take it any longer. He knew you hadn’t heard from your mother since you moved out because he hadn’t either. 

“We don’t have to watch this.” Chandler decided enough was enough. “Weekend at Bernie’s is on Showtime, HBO, and Cinemax.” He announced the change of TV as he picked up the remote.

“Come on, she’s your guys’s mom.” Joey complained in surprise that neither of you wanted to watch your mom on one of the biggest talk shows in America. The fact that Joey didn’t see why you were upset made you just that much more upset.  

“Exactly. Weekend at Bernie’s! Dead guy getting hit in the groin 20, 30 times!” Chandler tried one last time for the sake of both of you. 

“Guys.” Rachel beamed to you and Chandler. “I love your mom’s books. I cannot get on a plane without one. I mean, this is so cool.” Rachel was practically giddy when she found out that your mom was the author of her favorite novels. 

“You wouldn’t think so if you were 11 years old and all your friends are passing around page 79 of Mistress Bitch.” Chandler relayed. You would have jumped in on the conversation too, because man did you have a million stories, but you just couldn’t think of any. Plus because of recent events you weren’t really in the mood to talk. 

“Yeah, Chandler. I love your mom. I think she's a blast.”  Ross spoke, apparently on the side Rachel was on. That your mother was this fun, wonderful person. 

“Yeah, you say that because she’s not your mom.” You finally mumbled loud enough for all of them to hear you. They all turned to look at you, and for the first time they were seeing how hard this was for you. Ross immediately stopped talking, Monica and Phoebe looked at each other not sure if they should say something, and Joey wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you a little closer to his side. It made you feel slightly better, but you just wanted to run and hide under the covers in Joey’s bed for at least a week. But when the others heard kissing noises, they all turned around to see that Paolo was here and was practically eating Rachel’s face off of her body. 

“When did Rigatoni get back from Rome?” Ross asked, now adding to the sad party you were having. 

“Last night.” Monica answered him.

“Really? So then his plane didn’t explode in a ball of fire?” Ross asked, clearly not jealous at all. “Just a dream I had. But phew.” He thought would be funny to say out loud. 

“Hey! Hey! She’s on!” Apparently Phoebe was also excited about all of this, and Joey left you and was now on the edge of his seat on the couch. 

“Ah! Nora Bing!” Paolo yelled in excitement, much to your dismay as you watched your mom walk onto the screen, waving at the audience on the other side of the camera. 

“Before we get to the book, now what is this about you being arrested in London? What’s that all about?” Jay Leno asked your mother, which had you rolling your eyes at that piece that was news to you. 

“Your mom was arrested?” Phoebe laughed with astonishment. 

“Shh, I’m busy beaming with pride.” Chandler told her, which clearly wasn’t accurate. 

“This is kind of embarrassing, but occasionally, after I’ve been intimate with a man..” your mom started her answer.

“Why would she say that’s embarrassing?” You masked your pain with fake humor. To which everyone ‘shhed’ you. 

“I just get this craving for kung pao chicken.” Your mom proudly answered for everyone. 

“That’s too much information!” Chandler yelled at the TV. 

“So now you’re doing this whole book tour thing. How’s that going?” Leno asked her. 

“Oh, fine. I’m leaving for New York tomorrow, which I hate. But I get to see my kids, who I love.” Your mom smiled proudly, but it was hard to tell from the botox that she had gotten done. But all that you could focus on was the fact that she was coming here. She was coming here, to New York, after everything that had happened, and that was the way you had to find out. You were dying on the inside. But all your friends around you and your boyfriend all awwed for you and your brother. You crossed your arms tighter over your chest, wishing you could be anywhere else right now. 

“Oh, this is how we find out.” Chandler yelled, sounding like he was pissed. “Most mom’s use the phone.” 

“You know, I…”Jay Leno started saying as he got comfortable in his seat. But he also seemed like he didn’t want to offend your mom.“Don’t take this the wrong way, I just don’t see you as a mom somehow. I don’t mean that bad.” 

“Oh, no.” Your mom scoffed while looking at the audience. “I am a fabulous mom. I bought my kids their first condoms.” Half of your friends turned to look at your brother while the other half turned to look at you with your hand over your eyes in embarrassment. You then just decided that you couldn’t handle it anymore and ran out of Monica’s apartment and to yours, and to Joey’s bed so you could hide. You were just glad that you managed to avoid eye contact with all of them. However, Chandler was just standing there completely mortified. 

“And then he burst into flames.” Chandler said to himself as he felt like he was dying on the inside. 

#friends rewrite #Joey Tribbiani #bing!reader #sister!bing #joey tribbiani x reader #chandler bing #ross geller #rachel green #phoebe buffay #monica geller

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol.11 Sakamaki Laito [Another Story]

Original title: アナザーストーリー

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 11 Sakamaki Laito [CD not owned by me]

Audio: N/A (If you have bought the regular edition of Laito’s MMB CD, you can contact @akumacaron​ for the link to the audio of the Another Story track, which only comes with the deluxe edition usually. uwu)

Seiyuu: Hirakawa Daisuke

Translator’s note: Not quite what was I expected from this final track and I do feel a little trolled again but still not a bad ending to Laito’s MMB story! Even though he doesn’t rank very high on my personal favorites list, I will admit that he is a very fun character and his CDs are always very intriguing. 

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

*PSHHHHHHHHHH*

*Splash*

“...Ah, you finally woke up.”

You immediately start to panic.

“What are you freaking out for? I figured you would catch a cold if you slept in the bathtub, so I was so kind to wake you up. Aren’t I such a gentleman? Yet you went and fainted on me without permission...I suppose I have no other choice but to punish you~”

*Splash splash*

“Ah, if you move around thoughlessly, you’ll lose consciousness again, you know? I sucked plenty of your blood after all. You’ve probably become anemic, don’t you think? ...Look, your complexion has become pale. I suppose even someone like you can’t go into heat when their life is endangered. Or pehaps...Do you have some sort of other reason?”

You look at him in horror. 

“Nfu~ Look at you shivering.”

*Rustle*

“I was thinking drowning you in th tub would be somewhat interesting as well, but I suppose I’ll let you off the hook for tonight. I got to drink blood that was even more sweet and syrupy than usual after all~ The fact it turned that flavor proves that you actually didn’t dislike it all that much yourself, right? You’re quite the pervert to become aroused from being tormented. Don’t you think you were born for the sole reason of becoming someone’s prey?”

You remain quiet. 

“What’s wrong? Guess you won’t say anything back? It’s dull when you don’t resist though. ...Oh well. Well then, I’ll wipe you down and carry you to your room. I’m just so kind to human females, aren’t I~?”

*TIMESKIP*

Laito is walking through the hallway by himself. 

“...’Because you’re my favorite prey’, huh? Ahahaha...Hahahaha! What a joke! It sure has been a while since I last dropped that line. Bitch-chan looked so cute when I spoke those words too. She turned white as a sheet! However, she’s just so slow, you know? Seems like she still hasn’t realized. Time really hasn’t gone that far back. I’d say thirty minutes to one hour at most. Yet she’s totally getting the wrong idea, isn’t she? That time rewinded to back when she had just arrived at this manor. 

It should be so obvious if only she stopped for one second to properly think about it. The stuff displayed in the bathroom was slightly different from the past as well and even in her room or the hallway, there’s so many things which have been replaced by now because they broke. I thought she’d realize the moment we returned to her room, you know. She sees that room every day, so didn’t it strike her as odd? ...Well, I guess she doesn’t. It’s Bitch-chan we’re talking about after all. ...Ah! Could it be that my acting was just too on point? In that case, I might be an actor~  ...Anyway, the taste of her blood~ It really proves that being pushed to the edge of despair stirs up something inside of her. I didn’t think it would work this well~ I completely forgot to reveal the truth at the end, but Bitch-chan seems to be enjoying herself in one way or another as well so I suppose I’ll keep up this act just a little longer?”

He can hear footsteps.

“...Hm? That sound just now...?”

*Rustle* 

“Ah! I knew it, it’s Bitch-chan! ...I wonder what she’s doing walking around in the dark like that? She doesn’t intend to sleep in the living room, right? ...Eh? She’s crying...!?”

He quickly runs up to you.

“...Hey! Bitch-chan!? What’s the matter!? 

You turn around, surprised to see him.

“Aah...Your nose is even running. I’ll fetch you a tissue so you better blow your nose, okay? ...Judging by the looks of it, you aren’t injured. What on earth happened?”

You explain.

“Eh? What is it I don’t remember...?”

You respond.

“Eh!? You!? Could it be...Is that why you’re crying? You couldn’t fall asleep after returning to your room and...came all the way out here?”

You nod.

“Ah...I shouldn’t make decisions based solely on the taste of your blood, huh? ...Guess it only makes sense you would be in shock. If I had known it would affect you to this degree, I wouldn’t have teased you like that. ...Mmh. This time I went too far. I’m sorry, Bitch-chan.”

You frown.

“You still don’t understand? Like I said, I do remember. We’re deeply connected, right? ...To put it blunt, we’re lovers. You are my precious girl. I’m properly aware.”

You only seem more confused. 

“...I’ve said all that and you still don’t realize, huh? Listen up. why don’t you take a look at your cellphone to check the date? Well, I’ll tell you either way though. ...Time hasn’t rewinded to back when we only just met.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. 

“That hourglass was about to run out of energy. It could only handle turning back time for maximum one hour or so. Which is why I figured it’d be fine to have some fun with it just one last time...I broke the hourglass on purpose as well. I thought a little unexpected occurrence would make for a thrilling experience...and since it just so happened to bring us back to the bathroom, I decided to act as if we had gone back to the distant past...I was only going to tease you a little and put an end to it, but I suppose it was really distateful. Not my kind of style. ...I guess this time you really are upset, huh?”

You don’t respond.

“Hey...Bitch-chan, are you listening?”

You suddenly embrace him.

*Rustle*

“...Woah! That surprised me...I was more than prepared to get slapped across the face...Since you leaped into my arms...You’ll forgive me?”

You nod.

“Ah...You’re too kind-hearted, Bitch-chan. ...No, I guess that’s not true. I suppose it was so rough on you, you even lost the ability to be angry, huh?”

*Rustle rustle*

“...I’m so sorry. About the acting as well, but for all the shame I put you through before that as well. Ever since we realized the mutual love we feel for each other, I’ve been scared of it growing stale. However, seems like I took the wrong approach.”

You apologize. 

“Why are you saying sorry too!? Ah...Are you regretting the cold attitude you showed me? Hah...Seems like we were both awkward when it came to the other.”

You agree. 

“Ah...Yeah. Let’s try and look for other stimuli from here on out. Of course, only after properly talking it over first. Deal~?”

You nod.

“Fufu~ Seems like your tears have dried. You actually gave me a scare back then but...'After the rain comes whatever’ (1), or something like that, right? ...Then, let’s say we made it up to each other and put this topic aside for now.”

You tilt your head to the side.

*Rustle*

“Seeing you in tears really did something to me! You looked so fragile and fickle...It made me want to taint you. Say, can I suck your blood right now?”

You give him permission. 

“Oh? Now this is new. I figured you’d protest. Are you sure it’s fine? ...Let me tell you just in case, but I was speaking the truth when I said my switch got flipped by seeing you like that. I might not be able to hold back?”

You ask for him to suck your blood. 

“Nfu~ Oh you~ You’re so good at begging.  Well...I guess this works every now and then as well. When you think about it, with how many times I rewinded time, you’ve already gotten your blood sucked plenty, right? I’m sure your feelings are stirred up right now? Okay then~ As a way of apologizing, I’ll pour in plenty of love. Well then...There we go.”

*Rustle rustle*

“I’ll carry you in my arms like a princess again~”

You ask where he is taking you. 

“Hm? We’re obviously going to my room! Until you calm down, I’ll tend to you for as long as needed! No matter how many hours, or days.”

You shake your head in protest.

“Come on, I’ve got to take responsibility for all the times I turned back time with the hourglass. I’m such a sweet boyfriend, aren’t I~?”

You make a fuss. 

*Rustle rustle*

“What’s wrong? You seemed totally into it earlier though. Ah! You’re pretending to dislike it for my sake, aren’t you? Well aren’t you a considerate girlfriend~? ...Well then, let’s skip school tomorrow and spend the whole day together, okay?”

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Laito doesn’t finish the proverb, but I assume what he is trying to say is the Japanese equivalent to ‘After the rain always comes sunshine’, applying that after hitting a low, things can only get better. 

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #laito sakamaki #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers more more blood #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

[zumpietoo]

Okay.....once again, I despise Barfie....and even agree there is no “deep friendship” (tho, LBR, there ARE no “deep friendships”, period....most of the romantic relationships are painfully shallow and underdeveloped, as well)---buuuut....just noooooo.....

BH wasn’t planned originally at all (since that’s her circular point. The original plan was a much moar traditional, comics Slizzy and a HUGE BAV triangle....just, again, Vermin as a “good girl”, so making Slizzy a doormat AND a bitch....

Also, that’s not quite what happened here....plus, not like Slizzy was remotely able to “open up” to any of her other “best friends”, either....maybe a teensie bit to Gossip Ghey, but really, not a whole lot. In fact, the entire point here was EVERYBODY was fucking lying/keeping shit from everybody, all season, including themselves....

That said....know whose friendship WAS open and honest and developed into something moar for realsies? Uh-huh: Jabi....

Plus, Douchie IS a dick....but that wasn’t his motivation (”Slizzy now okay”) moar like “can’t be alone/also has to be half a power couple”....plusss....love how she ignores SLIZZY’S behavior, in that ep alone----she’s there practically bending over to present herself the entire time they’re day drinking together and then can’t get Vermin out of town fast enough so she can resume having gross, unsatisfying sex with him....plus, her interest in him remains about pursuing her Barfie Dream House fantasy, so she can finally be a purified 7 year old again.

There’s no question they’re toxic as hell (tho, hate to admit it, but they DO have shit in common) and aren’t endgame....but, guess what? Every other couple on the show (excepting Jabi and I guess Minkle, to a point?) is/was/always will be supremely toxic (and underdeveloped), too:

BH particularly.....

And I actually think the writers loooovveeee Barfie (tho not as much as VD and entirely because they all, inexplicably, want to suck KokeJ’s dick), but even if they don’t? Who GAF if they’re “hurting” imaginary characters?

Oh Snorty.....

They had FOUR seasons in which they went in a different direction than originally planned because PP and KokeJ hate each other and are shitty actors---and even then they actually DID always and by design leave bits and pieces of Barfie in the background....as much as I hate to now admit it. 

Additionally, Barfie in cheating form happened because SH split and it was abundantly clear it was a lot bigger/gonna stick moar than the ninety billion previous splits they apparently had (which, BTW, the show worked around in previous seasons by routinely giving them separate arcs---it’s why they never fully exploited the show’s then most popular couple as much as they could’ve/should’ve).

And, in watching now/hindsight.....I never bought Douchie loved(s) Vermin (nor do I think she loves him) and I don’t buy Slizzy loved Jughead. None of the three are capable OF love is the problem here.....now Jug loved Slizzy---and, LBR, was really, really good for her, because he was loving, devoted, empowering partner.....buttt....she was NOT good for him. AT ALL. 

And, again, I question that she ever truly loved him, because I think she’s too fucked up to love ANYBODY.

I yesterday stated, I’m not entirely sure WHY Slizzy dumped Douchie mid-season 5, but I’m currently with

 A) wanted to focus on being a psycho killer (which, BTW, DID seem to get her off), 

B) On some level, “dirty sidepiece without any consideration in exchange thereof” probably didn’t work for her---Slizzy might not care about orgasming during sex, but she does expect to be paid for her services (and gets off on that and the control it presents her)----cuz:

C) If she’s gonna suck his tiny dick and have to finish shit herself, there better be the payment of half a power couple in a Barfie Dream House to go along with it.

Actually, as I read this/have formulated it----I AM entirely sure the above is precisely why...

And I even agree with her in parenthesis analysis----just that’s why they’re happening, in a way they sorta work, consequently---and this is why Slizzy and Jughead no longer work at all....

Again, the writers have never managed to develop ANY of the relationships (romantic or otherwise) on the show.....currently the only one that seems grounded IS Jabi....and RAS has basically admitted as much in interviews, himself....

And this is why you won’t be getting your way, dudes....

[calypsoff]

Seventy Seven.

Squinting my eyes open a little, my daughter is crying and I’m awake of course. Of course I am awake, I always sense when my daughter is awake, she has a good pair of lungs on her too with the amount of crying she does when she is unhappy, she is really unhappy right now because her father is asleep still but I do not want to show I am awake, I am trying my best to remain in one place but he is sleeping still, I don’t want to nudge him either, I have stepped back a little, calmed down with him. Chris is a little reluctant still, I think he probably feels I will bite at him again about it but I won’t, I want him to bond with her so I stepped back, I tried the when she is a good mood he has her but this is the first night since our midwife visit that I told him to wake up and see to her, he isn’t awake still, how can you ignore that. Looking over at Chris about to speak but he moved, I quickly closed my eyes. Feeling the bed move as he did, he is awake and that is the main point. Looking over at him walking to the crib, his boxers up his buttcrack, a small smile played on my face. He is sexy as hell, he is my baby daddy and I love it “hey pookie, it’s ok” Chris said as he reached into the crib, his voice is croaky but watching him pick up Rylee. Her cries calmed down; she is at peace “you good now yes? You calmed down now, hey” watching him with her, least she is calm with him “let’s go and make your bottle in your room, don’t want to wake your momma” closing my eyes again, trying to make out I am asleep because I can’t make him feel I am watching which I am of course, I can’t help myself with that.

I frowned looking at the time, she is crying again but this time Chris got up straight away. Why is she awake again and it’s late at night, I want to get up, but I won’t, I will just be mute here “it’s ok, calm down” Chris said “hey Pookie, hey there. It’s ok” hearing him walk off, he always leaves the room because he doesn’t want to wake me, which is cute but still, I wonder why she is not asleep. Hearing the door close, reaching over for my phone and seeing the time. It’s four in the morning, she woke up at half two and now again, maybe she wants some snuggles. I am awake now so I will go to the toilet, I won’t check unless Chris asks for help. I am just trying my hardest to allow him to grow in confidence with her, she seems ok, so I am not worried, but she has been sleeping through till about six in the morning so it’s odd to know she woke up again. Pushing the covers off of me, I guess Chris has got a fun night ahead of him. I am going to sleep, I need it because from six I am awake with her now, it’s all about Rylee now.

Grabbing my phone and looking at the time “wow” it’s going on seven, no sign of Rylee crying. Placing my phone down and looking over at Chris, I had to double take seeing Rylee asleep on Chris’ chest. Chris’ hands over Rylee and kept her place but she is asleep on him, she hasn’t even woke up either, that is how much she is enjoying herself. I am shocked, looking at the side of Chris, the baby bottle is next to him, grabbing the bottle and seeing that she didn’t drink it all but yet she is still asleep. Pushing the covers off of me, placing the bottle on the side table “hey” looking behind me, he is awake “hey you, what happened?” he looks tired “she wouldn’t sleep, I got fed up so I just thought fuck it, try this. She slept through the rest of the night. Is that ok? She good yeah?” nodding my head “she is content Chris, it’s fine. You look so tired, so she was playing up?” I questioned like I didn’t know that “yeah, she woke up. I fed her, put her in the crib and then she woke up again, the second time she did, she was fussing so I took her downstairs, we had a little walk around. I came up, used the machine to make the bottle, came here to bed, fed her whatever she wanted. Burped her, then carefully laid her on my chest, she slept through” I smiled lightly “that is so sweet Chris, and she is so happy, she has overslept but because she has been fussing all night she is catching up, I mean you can put her in the crib or keep her there. I am awake now” Chris nodded his head, he is tired.

Chris put Rylee in the crib for me, he can go back to sleep now, I can take over “did you have an ok night then?” I asked knowing that I know what happened “erm” watching him rub his eye “I did, she was a little off but nothing I couldn’t handle at all, as soon as I laid her on me, she was fine. I’m going to sleep, you good yeah?” He asked, nodding my head “I am” Chris rubbed the back of his head staring at me before he walked off to go to sleep, I am pleased to know he seems content and ok with her. I guess I can go and do my thing, I will take her downstairs with me “you want to bathe her today?” I asked, “I won’t breathe down your neck about it?” Turning around “I don’t mind it but can you be there” nodding my head “Robyn?” Looking over at him “why don’t you touch me anymore? Like physically? Like what about me? You know? Not sounding selfish but it’s been a while, we haven’t done anything. Not even a hug, I don’t want to sound like a little bitch because I mean men don’t generally care or should care but you said speak on it. I am because I care, I miss it” watching him get into bed in utter shock, I mean I shouldn’t be shocked because that is what I have been like “I am sorry” it’s the only thing that came out of my mouth, I feel awful with what has happened, what I have been like “it’s ok, I just thought mention it. I miss it, if you need me then wake me” watching him get comfortable in bed, I feel like a bad wife, but it was never intentional, I have been so caught up in being a mother and healing that I forgot I am a wife too, taking in a deep breath staring in sadness, I feel sad now.

Placing Rylee in the crib downstairs so I can be close by if she cries but have I really been that distant with Chris, I suppose he’s right because since she’s been here it’s been about Rylee every time and just worrying I’m doing right or wrong, I’ve not thought of Chris clearly, I feel bad. I’ve just had so much on right now, but I need to do something for him I think, let me just make breakfast and put something away for him. Walking off to go to the kitchen and then the buzzer went off, of course it does now “great” at this time of the morning it’s probably a parcel, looking at the camera and seeing it’s the parcel guy, opening the gate for him and made my way to the door. I look a mess so he can see me like this, I don’t care. My life is sweatpants and baggy tops, dragging my feet as I got to the door. Dragging it open and seeing the box in front of me with no guy, I frowned “sorry” he ran back over with another big box “oh wow, hi” the delivery guy stared at me in amazement, I’ve just had a baby and I look terrible so what is he staring at “wow, erm. You know it said Rihanna, but I didn’t think, oh wow. You look amazing, oh man. My people ain’t going to believe me, oh shit. I am sorry. I have a few more boxes for you” he smirked at me “you real beautiful for someone that just had a baby, like I am speechless” if he cannot, I couldn’t help but smile “thank you but can you do me a favour please, can you actually bring these boxes inside. I can’t carry them in, my husband is asleep” his eyes lit up “oh yes, of course I would for you” pushing the door open for him “thank you” I grinned, he is so sweet.

There is like five boxes, three are just in brown plain boxes and the other two ain’t “is that it?” I asked him “one more” my eyes bulged out “who the hell” walking over to the gift wrapped box, there is a note on there “I will be two minutes, that is the heaviest one of them all” nodding my head, grabbing the card. Opening the envelope, pulling out the card “Balmain” I said to myself “my beautiful Rihanna, congratulations on your queen that arrived into the world. Love from your boo Olivier Rousteing” I squealed out, oh no he didn’t yes he fucking did. I know that’s fucking right, he is late, but I will take it “last one for you, this is the heaviest. I think these brown box ones are Dior, but it’s amazing. Like to meet you, I will keep this day in my mind. It’s rude of me to ask for a picture, a lady just had a baby and stuff but, you are more beautiful in person, I mean you’re beautiful anyways. Aight, I am going” I giggled “thank you boo, maybe next time you come I may feel up to it. I will take that picture with you” walking behind him, escorting him out of the home “oh my god, it’s really Rihanna” he said to himself looking up to the sky, he is one funny delivery man. He was so shook to know it was actually me, closing the door with the biggest smile on my face. Now I got to look through these boxes, I can’t even. My daughter has so much clothing already, I am so excited to open the gifts.

So my daughter and I have been spoilt by Dior and Balmain, I am so speechless right now. I can’t even, Dior even sent a stroller, but I will get Chris to get that out once he is awake, but I am shook to the core, I can’t believe they sent so much, both of them. Grabbing the Dior pink muslin, it’s so adorable, making my way to the living room. Looking my bottom lip out, I can’t believe that my daughter is out here just flexing. How on earth am I going to have her wear all this, I don’t even know. I have two strollers now, I think I am going to have to give the one I bought away to someone in need, I need to get Tina to look into that, there is always new mothers in need so I will look into that, I am so happy. Dior and Balmain both picked outfits specifically for Rylee and I to match, these outfits are from their new season, I am just so fucking excited, I need to start getting back in shape already. Looking down at Rylee in the crib, she is asleep still. All that playing up got her tired I see, lightly lifting her hand up and placing the Dior muslin just under her hand and placing it back down, let me take a picture of this first. I have to do this; they really have sent a lot to me for free too. Getting my phone out from my sweatpants pocket, unlocking my phone and tapping on Instagram. Tapping on my camera, hovering my phone over her hand with the muslin under it. They can wait for to see my pumpkin’ face, they ain’t seeing that until I want too. Typing out a caption ‘@Dior baby! Thank you so much for everything you have sent us’ pressing send on the post, I am sure that will be getting the most likes, the post I put up of Rylee is the most liked post, so I am sure this will be too. Chris’ following list went crazy since he posted me and her, just everything is so crazy right now, I am just in love with the gifts.

I want to cry seeing these Balmain outfits “Chris just please, look at this” holding up the sweatshirt with the ruffles around her torso “awww, that is actually so cute. With her fat legs out, she going to love it” I love everything he sent “you not going to eat first?” I asked, he is already starting on the stroller “I want to build it now” I don’t mind seeing that, him topless just fixing things. Very manly of him “ok, I was thinking. We have so much, I am going to get Tina to look into like women’s shelter or a place for new mothers that need clothing and baby gear, we have so much Chris. Everything we have is double, triple. Our home is full of Rylee things, not it’s even worse so what you think?” watching Chris sit on the floor staring at the box “I think that is a good idea, you’re right. Because I was looking and I saw the feeding machine box, I thought it was just a box you had out. So I grabbed it to throw it away, but it was brand new boxed, we have a lot of stuff so I think it would be good” I need to do that, that is a chore “I am going to do a quick video to put on my story” I said to Chris, tapping record as I took a video of the Balmain outfits “Oliver, Oliver, Oliver. You have spoilt my girl! Look at this” holding the outfit up “you about to be her fave already, I can’t wait for you to meet her. I love you so much boo, thank you!” stopping the recording, I am just so happy “this should be straight forward you know” pressing send on the post, he says that but watch him do something to mess it up.

Chris actually did the stroller easily; he is just clicking things in together. I enjoyed watching him do it actually, just watching him work. Tapping record on my phone as I walked up behind him “my husband hard at work” Chris looked behind him and at the camera, he just laughed “why you got to record though” walking around him “because I like to see you busy, look at him. He fixed the Dior stroller for his pookie” showing the stroller “why you telling everyone that twin” he moved back from the stroller, moving my phone and aimed it at him, he laughed “you call her Pookie, it’s cute but he’s been so good. Night feeds is on him” Chris scratched his chest laughing “always” he mumbled smiling, he walked over to me, and he came into me for a hug. Wrapping my arm around his neck, he pecked my lips “a nigga is hungry now” he walked off which made me smile, I stopped the recording. He fixed my stroller, and I got a hug, I am happy what can I say. You know what, I don’t like posting much of my private life, but it’s been a while since I have so I will post this on Instagram. Adding a caption to the post ‘My whole life @Fuckyopictures’ pressing send on the post, let the media drool over that shit. I mean the only shit they can hear when Chris hugged me is the kiss and the only thing they can see when we hugged was the living room anyways.

I am feeling a little giddy inside, making my way to the kitchen “Chris” I said, I still haven’t forgotten what he mentioned about us not hugging anymore and all that so I just want to speak to him about “what’s up?” he looked up at me “I want to speak on what you said just before you fell asleep again, so yeah, about what you said. I want to apologise to you, I will admit yes I have been neglecting you in a way I shouldn’t have, I have been caught up being a mother and trying to be just that, forgetting the fact I am a wife to you. I am sorry for not being there with you like you are with me, throughout my pregnancy you have been constant. Yes there has been a few hiccups but it doesn’t amount to how much you have been there, so tonight erm how about we spend some time together. I mean of course Rylee is there but how about we cook dinner together, because I need help with somethings still, I don’t want to be bending and stuff and then we can talk and watch a movie together on the couch, meanwhile Rylee will obviously be there to interrupt” Chris chuckled “how about I make dinner, or I can bring something in? That would be dope” he is right “bring something in” Chris smirked “Giorgio Baldi to go” I giggled “how did you know?” he rolled his eyes, he knows me so well because I do want that.

#chrianna #chriannaff #chrianna ff #chrianna fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

[smol-and-grumpy]

Cross My Heart - CH.18

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean x Reader; Chuck Shurley x Reader

Summary: After opening up a letter, the life as she knows it, changes forever. Her husband hires Dean Winchester to protect her but is Dean really who he said he was? And is her husband really worried about her safety?

Warnings: Fluff

WC: 2068

A/N: This is it. The end. Again. I’m always so sad when a story ends. Please, please let me know what you think about it. Feedback keeps me going. Thank you for reading the 18 chapters. I know it was a lot. I apparently can’t write short series anymore. 

SERIES MASTERLIST

Y/N has offered to pay and cover for Cas’ expenses if he wants to stay here while Dean’s still in the hospital — she got her bag with her things back too, because Bobby came in to see Dean before he left, and left her bag with Dean. She’s a little sad she missed Bobby, hadn’t really got to officially meet that man that Dean’s so fond of. He came in when Cas and her were out to find her some pants. Cas politely declined, though, because he needs to get back for his new job as a car salesman. 

She can imagine him selling a lot of cars to single women, to be honest. He has that charming smile and eyes that are blue as a clear sky on a sunny day.

*

The next day, when she goes in to see Dean, he’s already sitting up and talking on the phone. She slips into the room and sits on the empty chair beside him. 

He’s doing incredibly good for someone who almost died. It’s only the wound on his stomach that’s still hurting and he’s on painkillers. The doctor’s are happy with the progress he makes, and said that it’s rare that they see someone with his wounds recover that well. Guess Dean’s a super human, at least that’s what he is to her. 

Dean’s frowning while he talks but he smiles at her with his eyes, she can see it clearly. She likes that, likes the way he smiles and she’s able to see the smile reaching his eyes. It’s so rare to see that in a person. 

Y/N takes out her new phone which she bought this morning and begins to set it up while she waits for Dean to finish his call. She can hear that he’s talking to Benny.

She knows what Benny's telling him because she went in to see Benny this morning, as he’s still in town to wrap the case up. 

Apparently, Chuck’s company isn’t doing well (surprise!), and he’s close to losing it. And instead of selling or getting investors on board, he decides that it would be easier to kill off his own wife. She’s glad that her soon to be ex-husband is facing life in jail, to be honest. Because that’s what Benny has told her. They’ve got a strong case and the chances of Chuck ever getting out of jail alive, are slim to non-existent. That’s good. Really good. It’s just, she doesn’t look forward to going up into the witness stand. Especially when they could bring up her relationship with Dean, which could lead to other suspicions and would raise more questions, but knowing Dean, he’s going to be great in the courtroom. It’s her that’s going to need some coaching.

“Yeah,” Dean says, “Thanks for everything man. I owe you. Of course. Yeah, we should. Okay, bye.”

He hangs up and rubs at his ears. He’s probably been on the phone for a while, “Benny says hi.”

“I like Benny,” She says, looking up from her phone to grin at him.

“Yeah?”

“He ties with Cas on the list of my favorite people.” She shrugs.

Dean raises his eyebrows, “Who tops the list?” 

“Um,” She says, pretending to think, “There’s this guy.”

“Yeah?” He pats at the space next to him on the bed and she gets up and sits closer to him. He rubs over her thighs. Up and down.

“Yeah,” She smiles, “He’s quite alright. He took care of me so that brings him to the top of my list.”

Dean chuckles, pulls her closer by the neckline of her shirt to kiss her. 

He breaks from it and grins, before his face gets serious, “Jesus, I love you so much, you know that? It terrifies me. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

He’s so blunt about it, it blows her mind. Her cheeks start to flare up. 

“Me neither.” She says, because it’s true. What she thought was love? What she had at the beginning with Chuck? It was never like this. She leans forward, kisses him, smells him, tastes him, and smiles against his lips, “So, will you do the honor of being the first number I’ll save into my new phone?” She grins, holds the phone out for him to punch in his digits. 

Dean chuckles, takes the phone and thumbs over it, writes his name. When he’s done, he hands it to her and she looks at the contact.

“D?” She looks at him, “D. This is all you wanna be known as?” 

He shrugs, “Yeah, I don’t like people knowing everything about me.”

“But D, ugh.”

“Hey, I could have written The best D you ever had but that would have been inappropriate.” There’s a cocky grin on his face.

She sighs, “Fine, but ugh, I wanna put a heart next to it at least. So I won’t mix you up with all the other D’s that I’ll be having on my phone.”

“Hey!” Dean has to laugh, and is now holding his stomach and then he tries to think of something not funny, she can tell, because his lips are pressed into a thin line and after a couple of breaths, he manages to calm down. After a couple more minutes of even breathing, he reaches over to get his phone, and hands it to her, “I need your number too.”

“Why? Will you send me a dick pic?” 

Dean snorts at that and she can’t help but giggle. He’s holding his stomach again, and maybe she should really not be a pain in his ass. She just can’t help it and seize the opportunity when it’s there.

He raises one eyebrow then, “Would you like me to send you a dick pic?”

She should have known that karma will get her, because now, the one who’s blushing is her. With a shrug, she says, “It depends who’s dick it is,” 

“What do you mean, who’s dick it is? I don’t have pictures of other dicks. At least I don’t think I do,” He grins, pretending to think and she rolls her eyes.

Grabbing his phone out of his hands while he’s still lost in thought, she gets off the bed and begins to type in her number, had to search for it on the receipt she got, because she can’t really remember it by heart. But when she finishes, she sits back on the empty space she just left and hands the phone back to Dean, a grin so wide, like she’s really proud of it.

Y/N watches as Dean looks at his phone. His eyebrows meet in the middle and there’s a slight lift of one of them. 

“BAE LOML? So many hearts?” Dean looks from the phone to her and she really, really tries not to laugh. “What does that even mean?”

“You could google it?”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Dean places his phone back on the charger and turns his attention back to her, “I’ve talked to Sammy this morning.” 

Ah, he’s changing the subject because he’s embarrassed that he probably quite likes the name she just gave herself. At least it doesn’t seem like he would want to change it.

“Yeah?”

“He’s going to handle your divorce. If you still want to divorce that son of a bitch, that is,” Dean pauses, pulls her into him, so that she’s half on the bed and half on top of him on the side that he’s not hurt, “Which, I would hope that you will, because he’s kind of a dick.”

She has to chuckle.

“Sam’s going to prepare all the paperwork so the only thing you have to do is signing it.” Dean kisses her forehead.

“I will,” She nods her head. She wants to do it. Wants to move forward.

He looks at her, his hand tucks away a loose strand of her hair, “Do you want to go back to your house after all this? Live in the city?”

It’s the first time that he mentions the life after this nightmare. Honestly, she never thought about it. She doesn’t know what to do with her life at all.

“No, I don’t want to go live in that house anymore.” She says. She couldn’t possibly go back. There are too many memories. It’s too big, it’s too fancy. It’s too Chuck. Plus, she doesn’t have anything in the city anymore that could hold her there. No friends, no family, no Chuck. 

Dean’s smirking, it’s probably the answer he was anticipating to hear, “Can you imagine coming back with me?”

“Well,” She says and Dean’s smile turns into a straight line. She really doesn’t want to play with him when he’s still recovering, but it’s so easy to rile him up, “I don’t know,” She sighs, for the dramatic, “You’d have to buy me a drink first, I’m not that easy, Dean.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack,” He mumbles, curses some more but then he grins, kisses her lips bruisingly hard.

“Ugh, Liz won’t like me living there, though.” 

“Liz doesn’t really like anyone, and besides, that’s her problem and not yours.” Dean scoffs.

“She likes you.” 

“Baby,” Dean holds her face between his palms, squishing at her cheeks so she has a fish mouth and then he grins, “What do I have to do to make you see that you’re it? Huh?” He pecks her fish lips and then he lets go of her face, strokes her cheeks instead, and he gets serious again, “All I saw was you. I think I even dreamt of you when I was out and unconscious. And even in my dreams I made sure that you were okay. When I was there on the floor? I was angry at myself, you know? I was thinking that I was fucking stupid to have thought that Chuck wouldn’t have a back up plan. And when I heard the shot, I hoped and prayed that he didn’t shoot you.”

She says, leans in, nuzzles her nose against his stubbled jaw, “Okay, I move in with you.” Moving up on the bed a little, she lays on his shoulder, buries her face into the crook of Dean’s neck. 

“We could get a house. I mean, it won’t be as big as the one you’re used to living in but we can get a reasonably sized house in a reasonably good neighborhood.” 

She has to chuckle at that, “Sounds reasonably good. I don’t need big things.”

“That’s because I’m already quite big.” 

“Oh my god.”

“It’s Dean.”

Y/N punches his chest and he has to laugh and flinches at that. Good. He deserved it.

“Don’t you think it’s too soon, though? I mean, we don’t know each other for very long,” The question is not really weird? Is it? It’s true, they know each other for what? Two weeks tops? She doesn’t really know anymore but it feels like a lifetime. Although it’s only a question to rile him up a little more.

“I think I know you better than I know anyone else.” Dean says, and adds, “But I’m not pressuring you. I just wanna add that I’m here no matter what and you should know that by now.” 

She smiles, it’s so easy with him really, “If you know me, you should know that I’m ready to follow you anywhere by now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Dean places a soft kiss on her lips, “You let me keep you?”

She nods with a smile, “Promise me that you will,”

“Cross my heart,” Dean huffs out a breath, kisses her again, it’s soft and tender, pours all his love into it and she feels it. Feels it too. Feels the butterflies, feels the little bubbles getting bigger in her heart. And she thinks that Dean’s right. Sometimes things do happen for a reason. She looks forward to a new future, it might not be gold and glitter, but that’s not what she wants anyway. She wants someone who sees her as his equal, she wants someone who treats her right, who makes her want to be the best version of herself. She wants someone who can make her laugh, she wants someone who has her back, no matter what. She wants Dean.

FIN

#cross my heart #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #bodyguard!dean #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

[bae-roman]

I know it’s a bit early but I remember you saying you love Christmas so I hope this is fine but can I get a holiday themed [if they don’t celebrate actual Christmas] bunni and roman drabble that’s on the more mature side and maybe before they have kids [other than Nadia oviously but maybe she’s not involved] thank you!!!! 😁

Ahh! Thanks for the request babe! I LOOOOOOOVE Christmas SO MUCH. Honestly You could send me Christmas prompts in like April and I’d still be down.

I actually have a drabble I was working on last year so I’m just going to add onto that! Nadia may be involved a tad in the beginning but I’ll make it more mature at the end!

Putting some under the cut bc it gets smutty towards the end!

This would be their first Christmas together after bunny moved in. She had told Roman many times before about her love of everything Christmas related and he’d seen how perfectly decorated her old home had been. Hell, even the year before bunny bought piles of decorations to Roman’s house after discovering all he had was a tree and a wreath which was “completely and utterly unacceptable” and “akin to child abuse” as bunny had said. 

Roman was definitely not the most into Christmas, and had Nadia not been a factor, he would likely ignore the holiday altogether. 

When Bunny cared about something she really throws herself into it and what Roman didn’t know is that Bunny had actually been toning down her Christmas spirit in the previous years. Since she had never lived alone, she always had to compromise on her decor. Even though her previous roomies were her friends and had a bit more tolerance for her antics, she still wanted to be respectful of common living areas and not shove her decorations down their throats, even if that meant having only 1 Christmas tree. 

So, now living with Roman in what she considered her home as well, she was finally able to go all out, and let me tell you -  she did. Roman went to work on December 1st to his house looking normal and came back that night to something like this

(Of course their house doesn’t look like this, but it’s how bunny hung their lights)

Like Roman is practically blinded by it while driving down the street. 

Additionally, all the trees on their property were also lit up and decorated just as extravagantly. Even if Roman wasn’t a bit of a grinch, he’d still consider this too much. When he entered the house things only got worse. While aesthetically it looked good, Roman couldn’t get over the fact that his home now closely resembled the inside of a Christmas store. 

He was greeted by Nadia running up to him, like she always did when he come home, “Don’t you like it Daddy? Bunny said I didn’t have to go to school if I helped! Isn’t it pretty?” 

Nadia was obviously very excited about the state of the house and as much as Roman loathed it, the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his little girl so, he hid his disdain behind a fake smile and said the house looked lovely.

When Nadia dragged him away to show him the Christmas tree in her room he caught Bunny’s eye and sent her a quick scowl, but Bunny only laughed. 

After seeing the pink Christmas explosion that occurred in Nadia’s room, he took a quick look through the rest of the house, discovering every room had their own tree and separate theme. If he wasn’t so horrified that he had to live here for the next month, he’d be somewhat impressed. 

The one thing he actually did like was the main Christmas tree in the living room. Bunny had moved things around (or rather, had paid many people to move things around) so that it was centered around this colossal tree. The thing was huge but beautiful all the same. It reminded Roman of one he’d seen as a child on a trip with his father to Time’s square.

While he didn’t love the rest of the house, he appreciated that bunny had left his office alone and kept their bedroom decor to a minimum. He bitched about the decorations all month long but ultimately, didn’t order her to remove them. 

This would come to bite him in the ass the following year, though, because Bunny went even harder the next year. 

Now, let’s skip to the evening of Christmas day...

After they had put Nadia down for bed Roman and Bunny went back to the living room for a drink. 

The two of them were talking about nothing in particular for a while before roman started wandering around the tree. It was large enough that Bunny couldn’t see him on the other side but she heard some shuffling so she called out, asking what he was doing. 

Roman re-emerged holding a present, “There was one left, it says it’s for you” 

“Ooh! Does it say who it’s from? I don’t recognize the wrapping paper” Bunny was too excited about the prospect of another gift that she didn’t even notice the odd way Roman was holding the box. His arms were hanging low and he was holing it on both sides, right below his waist. 

Just as bunny was about to snatch it out of his hands, he stopped her. She looked up at him and pouted, “hey!”

“It’s uh really heavy. I guess whatever’s in here is pretty huge. Maybe just open the lid?”

“Fine, just give it to me”

When it came to presents, bunny was almost like a child. She loved gifts and surprise ones were even better. 

Once again, ignoring Roman’s odd behavior, she opened the lid of her gift and found ... Roman’s dick. 

Bunny looked up at Roman, a shit eating grin plastered on his face, and looked back down at the contents of the box again before bursting into laughter. 

“Wow, just what I needed!”, Bunny played along, “no wonder it was so heavy, maybe you should put it down...”

Bunny took Roman’s hand and led him to the couch. He stood by the side as she got on her knees, resting her elbows on the arm of the loveseat, facing him. She carefully took off the box, freeing his member and taking it in her hands. Roman undid the buttons of his pants and let them fall down while Bunny took the tip of his length into her mouth. Roman pushed her hair out of her face and gripped it at the back of her head, nudging her head to take more of him in. She obeyed and slowly took more and more of him in until she was at the base, Roman let out a soft groan and leaned over to pull her top down to expose her chest. He licked his thumb and forefinger before reaching down and playing with her nipples. 

Bunny continued to increase her pace until she felt Roman beginning to twitch inside her. She let him fall out of her mouth and got up to give him a kiss. She felt his tongue battle against hers as their bodies pushed against eachother. 

Bunny ran her hands down from Roman’s neck to the collar of his shirt and tugged at the buttons until they ripped off. Roman slid his hands down her body, stopping to grip her bunched up top and dragging it down over her ass. Once he let the fabric go, he cupped Bunny’s ass in his hands and lifted her so that her legs were wrapped around him. 

The fabric of her tights on his bare cock hardened him further and when the pair broke apart, he set bunny down on her feet and quickly removed the rest of her clothing so that they were both naked.

Bunny went back to the couch, this time sitting on it normally and widened her legs. Roman licked his lips and knelt down, putting a hand on each of her knees. 

He spread her legs even further and pushed her back before bringing his plump lips to her core. He teased her at first, nipping at her thighs and licking her all over, except for her clit. He knew how crazy that drove her. When he heard her let out a little whine, he smirked to himself before giving her clit his full attention. Bunny arched her back and tried to move her thighs together but Roman’s firm grip stopped her from being able to interrupt his work. Roman felt her walls begin to tighten around his fingers and, just as she did to him, stopped his actions. 

They both had a hate-love relationship with edging eachother. On one hand, being so close to your climax and then not reaching it was almost unbearable however, they knew that the sex to come would be 10 times more wild. 

Almost like she could read his mind, Bunny flipped herself over on the couch so that she was again on her knees but this time her upper body leant against the back of it. 

Roman ran his member across her slit, coating it in her juices before sliding it inside her. He took full control of Bunny’s hips and made achingly slow movements. He began to quicken his pace and it wasn’t long before he was bottoming out inside of her. They were both moaning fairly loudly. Roman ran one of his hands down from her ass to her clit and played with it while he fucked her. It wasn’t long before he once again felt her walls constrict around him but this time he let her reach her high. He followed not long after and rested on top of her. 

When they were finished, bunny made sure to pick up their clothes and head upstairs. Roman, who had followed her into their room, lay on their bed while she went into the closet. Roman assumed that she was putting the laundry away or something since she was in there for a while but was pleasantly surprised when she came back out in... this

“So, I guess we had the same idea ...”, Bunny said as she posed in the doorway, showing off her little outfit. She looked at him over her shoulder and asked, “You ready to open your gift?”

#roman godfrey imagine #Roman Godfrey #christmas themed #christmas #smut #hemlock grove imagine #hemlock grove #request #Bill Skarsgård

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Feels Like Home

*Pinterest GIF* 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6VhtbpPBgHk - FEELS LIKE HOME 

Paring: Dean Winchester X Reader/ Y/n, Mention of Sam 

Pov: Y/n / Dean’s 

Rating:Adult Mature 

Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, Fighting, Love, Reminders of love, Passion 

Summary: “I still love you Dean” “I’m all your Y/n” “Say you still love me Dean!”

Word Count: 2k 

All relationships have their ups and downs. All people get into fights, we all say things we don’t mean. We all love a little to hard. We all get hurt. It’s all normal for those things to happen. 

Maybe I just loved a little to hard. “You know Y/n you don’t have to be up my ass everywhere we go. I had to take care of Sam my  life I’m taking care of you for the rest of mine.” Again like I said words can hurt a person. Words like those can hurt not just any person, but me Dean’s girlfriend. 

And yes maybe it was true maybe I was always up Dean’s ass, and yes maybe it was true that I, myself had said some pretty hurtful things “You know Dean  I take a lot of shit from you on a daily. You’re a mama’s boy with no intention on actually being any better then your fucking father was.” See hurtful words from me too. 

Was all this worth it? Was the fighting worth it to be with Dean Winchester? 

It all started because Dean had forgotten something, something so important that it wasn’t acceptable for him to just forget it. Yes I know your boyfriend is a hunter, he has to save the world blah, blah, blah. This really important date was our anniversary, which just ended up turning into a huge fight, with hateful words thrown in each others faces and slamming of doors, and way to many tears. 

You see Dean and Sam had just gotten back from a hunt a quick salt and burn something simple. So that the two of them could get home before my cooking was over. When they finally did get home I knew that they would both me tried but I expected something from Dean, a hug, a kiss on the cheek and an “I love you baby, Happy Anniversary.”, or even a stupid fucking card something to acknowledge that we had something important going on that day. 

But instead nothing, no cards, no kiss, no hugs. That was normal from a hunt, he would be so dog tired that there was no kissing, no hugging just sleeping. That wasn’t what got me so mad it was the fact that I waited another two fucking days and still nothing. I tried to stay positive, optimistic, but I just couldn’t. So I did the only logical thing and talked to his brother. 

“You know Sam, Dean forgot a really important date and I don’t know if I can just let it slide.” I said to Sam while taking food out for dinner.

“What do you mean? What did he forget?” Sam spoke looking up from his computer. 

“You mean to tell me that you don’t know either? It’s Deans and I’s 2 year anniversary!” I said looking at him over the bridge of my glasses. “It’s written on the calendar!” I walked around forgetting about making dinner.

“I’m Sorry!” I heard come from the kitchen, but continued walking away. I just needed to be away from both of those Winchesters. 

I went to our shared bedroom, just laying down. I fell asleep just needing the time to myself. I awoke to Dean slamming our bedroom door, a crisp look of anger and frustration on his face. 

“Y/n wake the fuck up!” He said his voice booming in the small cinder block room “Huh, hey deanie!” “Don’t Deanie me, you can’t just go around being a bitch to everyone because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed!” He said. 

“What do you mean being a bitch?” If Dean were a cartoon from Looney Tunes you would be able to see the smoke that was fuming out of his ears. “You walk around this entire bunker, don’t say a word to me, and then go yell at my brother.” Dean said, “Go yell at your brother that's not what happened. I was talking to him because of YOU, Dean. You forgot something that was so important and at this point it doesn’t even matter,”

“You’re too mad to even realize that everything that is coming from your mouth is bullshit and that you’re wrong, but no Dean Winchester can’t be wrong can he. He can’t admit that he forgot our anniversary.” I said my grip on the sheets becoming tighter as I got more frustrated.

He just stood there taking in everything I had said. With no response a few seconds I continued “ You know if you weren’t such a hot head then maybe  I would have just come to you about it, but I thought your brother could help me. I guess not.” Breathing heavily I started up again. “You know Dean, let me ask you this Do you even still love me?” 

He stood there leaning up against the door frame in shock, maybe what I had said was a little harsh but it was a serious question “You act like you don’t and yes  I Understand you have a lot of weight on your shoulders, but you took that on yourself nobody asked you to save the world. I asked you to me love, hug me, kiss me, talk to me when things are getting hard for you. At least say you love me Dean. Because Dean if you don’t I don’t think this can work, I can’t love you for the both of us, I can’t sit here and love me when that’s your job.” 

He again stood still I got up and walked up to him “At least say you love me Winchester, because if not I’ll walk out of this bunker with the cloths I came with and you can your brother can go back to having your normal easier life. JUst say I love you Dean”  

He grabbed my arm as I went to leave the room “Don’t say I don’t love you when you know I do!” And left me in the hallway of the bunker. I had been through much that day that I did a normal Dean this and grabbed a bottle of jack. 

   ----------------------------------Dean Winchester--------------------------------------

Dean’s POV

I couldn't do it anymore I needed out of that bunker away from my girl, away from that fight. She said some pretty truthful things. As I drove with Sam to the next hunter which I didn’t and couldn’t tell Y/n about I realized that she was right. 

That date that special day was everything to her. She had told me a long time ago that important dates and anniversary were what she lived on, and if you forgot one she’s be pissed off. I just never thought she would drop a bomb like that. 

She knew how hard everything was for my brother and I. She got that part which I was grateful for.  I was also grateful for the fact that Sam didn’t say a word about the fight or what had happened, he only talked about the hunt. 

If  I do remember correctly it was written on the calendar in the kitchen, she had programmed it into my phone and even sent me a text. God if there was a award for the worst mistake and worst boyfriend  I think I’d get it. Not even Sam would get that award. 

As we drove I kept seeing things that reminded me of Y/n. The dinner that Y/n would have pleaded us to stop at. The small shops in the town that were filled with old antiques. The little flower garden that should definitely would have forced Sam to take pictures of her and I.

I missed having her next to me in bed, waking up to her arms wrapped tight around my waist and how our legs always were intertwined. I missed her snarky comments, and her saving our asses. 

I think what I miss most was how she said “I love you”  before we would go into a vamp nest, or into a fight. Her giggles, her annoyance with Sams “So get this” After a hard and dreadful hunt, I again drove back with Sam sitting next to me, no Y/n in the back seat though, no giggles, no loud singin to my favorite rock songs, no gentle snoring, not a single thing for me to know Y/n was with me physically of course. 

Besides knowing that I had a few things in the car like hot and heavy memories of long nights in the back seat, a few stupid little cards with her hand writing written in them, a few trinkets she thought were such so cute. A single rose from the first date I took her on, sat on the dashboard of the impala. 

She was here in things, and memory, I loved her, I still love her. I just sometimes forget. I looked over at a out cold Samuel. “Sammy you asleep?’  I asked in a quiet voice. He didn’t move or respond so I did what I wanted to do. I drove off one of the exits and stopped at a store, grabbing Y/n another bouquet of red roses, a card, and a bunch of snacks. 

I wasn’t try to make what had happened okay, but I just wanted her to know that during this hunt, I had thought and thought hard. I wasn’t a hardass I was just a little all over the place. 

Before I pulled into the bunker garage, I woke up Sam and talked him. “Sammy, I stopped a while back and got Y/n some stuff. I love her Sam. It takes me being away from her to realize that though, and maybe she is right I don’t like being wrong, I do need to make things better. “ He was so out of it I just started to write down how  I felt about her in the card. After what seemed like 20 minutes I was finally done Sam had fallen back asleep in the process of me writing and talking to myself. 

I parked my baby, and quickly grabbed my stuff while waking Sam up. I rushed into the bunker. I just wanted to make sure Y/n was still here. She is my everything, I honestly think I’d lose my mind if she were to leave me. Hopefully she wasn’t gone, and to my surprise she was fast asleep in our bed, curled up in a ball, the bottle of jack that I had just bought was empty I guess our fight had made her that upset. 

Y/n didn’t drink unless, she was very nager or heart broken. For her to be heartbroken I don’t think I could ever forgive myself so I went with the latter. 

A ball she was wrapped tightly into herself. Her muscled flexing under the fleece blanket. It was as if she sensed I had come into the room. I carefully placed the flowers into the ready vase, and places all the snacks on her table, alongside the card that had my whole heart in it.

I threw off my green flannel, dirtied jeans, and my worker boots. I hoped into the shower trying my best to be the quietest I could be. When I came out Y/n was up and looking at the card, she had a few tears in her eyes. As she looked over at me, the first things I said was “Guess I wasn’t quiet enough for you to continue getting your sleep?” She shook her head, she probably was going to have a headache, but we could worry about that in the morning. 

Grabbing a pair of boxers I slipped them on, and climbed into bed. I grabbed the card from her hands placing it on her side table, and wrapped my hands around her waist. I just wanted to be around her, have her in my arms. 

“I’m all yours Y/n, And I love you to the moon and back baby!” I said before falling deep into sleep. She hummed in return. 

Tagged List: @akshi8278​

#supernatural #supernatural fic #dean winchester #deangirl #dean x reader #dean x y/n #supernatural x reader #fighting #drinking #love #passion #cursing warning #Angst with a happy ending

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 61 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet opened up, Alaska chickened out, and Courtney finally had her date with Bianca.

This Chapter: Trixie widens his search for Aiden’s replacement, and Courtney gets a taste of the good life.

***

Courtney doodled absentmindedly on her notepad during Miss Fame’s Monday conference call. She was getting an update from the company that ran her European stores, and discussing the upcoming marketing plan with Alyssa. Courtney knew that she was only there in case Miss Fame wanted to add anyone to the line; since Ivy and Laganja were both on the call, she didn’t really need to be paying attention. She probably should’ve been anyway, but this was a case where a little negligence would be forgiven.

Which was good, because she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering, daydreaming about how wonderful the weekend had been with Bianca. Adore had come over on Sunday for dinner, after which Courtney almost went home, but Bianca pulled her in for an embrace and insisted that she stay another night. When she’d worried about not having any appropriate work clothes, Bianca promised to find her something from her own closet, even excited at the notion of styling her for the office.

At first, Courtney was a bit concerned about whether the thigh-high black boots were too hookerish, but Bianca was adamant that they were fashion - and she should know, right? At least her luxurious knit dress was in Fame’s approved color palette, so she was pretty sure she wouldn’t get scolded like the time she dared to wear a lime green top.

She looked down at her notebook, realizing that it was absolutely covered in hearts, and quickly flipped the page, embarrassed.

She clicked on her mouse, waking up the computer to check her emails. If she was gonna space out, she may as well make at least a halfhearted attempt at productivity. She saw that there were a few unread DMs and clicked on the window.

ROXY: Package here for you

ROXY: A big-ass box from Neiman Marcus

ROXY: From the Marie Claire messenger again

ROXY: You gonna tell me who you’re dating over there now?

COURTNEY: LOL, sorry. It’s brand new, I don’t think we’re ready to go public

ROXY: Bitch it’s just me, I can keep a secret

COURTNEY: Since when?????

ROXY: Since always!!

COURTNEY: On Friday, you told me that Jaida is getting IVF and Alyssa’s son is in rehab again

ROXY: Yeah and yet you tell me NOTHING

COURTNEY: LOL. Okay well when we’re telling people, I’ll tell you first. Deal?

ROXY: WHATEVER

*

ROXY: Another major delivery came for Fame’s asst from MC today

SHANNEL: OMG. BDR just came into Nina’s office in the weirdest mood. She was all smiley and she approved this dumb spread that Nina’s been pitching for 3 months.

ROXY: 21 year old pussy is good for the soul

SHANNEL: APPARENTLY

*

The second she could get up, Courtney raced to reception to grab the package, wondering what it could be. They’d put together a bunch of outfits with the stylist this weekend, most of which were still at Bianca’s--except for her ensemble for the party tomorrow, which was hanging in a garment bag on the coat rack, partially covered by Courtney’s jacket so as not to be too conspicuous.

When Roxy said “a big-ass box,” she wasn’t lying. Courtney’s eyes widened as she spotted the box, quickly taking it back to her own office, peeking inside while Fame was occupied with Raja. She pulled out the note first.

Stay warm. XX, B PS Don’t worry, the fur is faux

Extra curious now, Courtney reached into the box, lifting the tissue paper to see what was inside and finally just pulling it out--a beautiful, full-length, raspberry-colored winter coat with a fur-trimmed hood. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head as the utter extravagance of it all.

COURTNEY: OMG Bianca!

BIANCA: Do you like it?

COURTNEY: It’s beautiful! But it’s way too much. You’re spoiling me.

BIANCA: Get used to it ;)

Courtney smiled to herself, hiding the box under the table and standing to try on the coat, positively glowing with happiness. She glanced at herself in the mirror that Fame kept by the door for “last looks,” and saw that it fit her perfectly, even across her narrow shoulders, almost as if it was tailored to her body. Which...now that she thought about it, the stylist on Saturday had taken her measurements, so maybe it was.

Just then, the door to Fame’s office opened and Raja stepped out. Courtney whirled around, a guilty expression on her face.

“Oh are...are you done? I was, um...just going to get Miss Fame another coffee.”

“Yeah, we’re done for now, you should probably stick around. Nice coat,” Raja said, brushing past her on her way out. “I’ll be back at 2 to finish. Make sure she’s fed.”

“Okay, thank-” Courtney began, finishing with “-you,” just as Raja breezed from the room.

Courtney slowly removed her new coat, hanging it carefully on the rack before heading into Miss Fame’s office to ask what she wanted for lunch.

***

Bob closed the door to Trixie’s office behind him, making a beeline towards the coffee machine. It was mid afternoon, and while there still was a bit of a home stretch to go before the holiday break, the tough decisions ahead were out of his hands.

“All I’m saying Chachki,” Jovan smiled, the man leaning against the wall. He was wearing orange trumpet pants and a blue fuzzy sweater. “Is that I can totally bedazzle your crutches.”

“What an amazing offer,” Violet drawled, her tone completely dry.

“Hey guys!” Bob grinned, sliding in next to Maxwell, his boyfriend handing the cup he had just poured. “What are we talking about?”

“The Christmas Party,” Maxwell smiled, looking up at Bob who gave him a quick peck. He was wearing a pink shirt, the cotton stretched across his chest, the khakis he wore all year looking delicious on his pert little ass.

“Right!” Bob took a sip. The Galactica Christmas Party was one of the biggest fashion events in December, Miss Fame always going all out. Bob had heard rumors around town that there’d be gigantic ice sculptures, but Roxy had told him she had seen order confirmations for a forest of Christmas trees.

Some called him and Roxy the office gossip sluts, and if the name fit, Bob wasn’t going to complain.

“I haven’t decided what I’m wearing yet.” Violet was sitting on a chair, her curled hair fastened with a golden clip, her skirt just above her knees. “This is the first time I’m not going as Fame’s assistant and I don’t have to match her or blend into the background.”

That made sense, Bob really noticing how Violet’s wardrobe had shifted from the uptight prissy bitch who had first entered their floor, more color and sharp cuts showing up in Violet’s clothes as she got to express herself more and more.

“But since there’s a good chance she’ll actually look at me since I’m going with Sutan, I have to stay on theme without being flashy or cheap or one of the million other things she refuses to accept.”

“The bedazzling offer still stands,” Jovan smiled, taking the last bite of his afternoon muffin, and Violet rolled her eyes.

“How did you two meet anyway?” Maxwell took a sip of his coffee. “You and Sutan I mean.”

Bob perked up immediately, his stomach doing a happy flip.

“Oh?” Violet looked surprised, like she genuinely hadn’t expected them to be interested. “You want to hear about that?”

“Yes!” Bob grinned. “Yes yes yes yes.”

He and Maxwell had been discussing how to get Violet to spill the dirt the entire week, and now, the chance was finally here.

“Well.” Violet paused, tapping her fingers on the table, like she was trying to decide if she should share, and Bob was about to burst with curiosity.

“Spill it!”

“He bought me a drink at the Vogue Fashion Fund, and asked me on a date a few days later.”

Bob waited for a beat, but Violet was simply smiling.

“What?! That’s it?!”

Of all the things Bob had imagined, this was by far the most disappointing answer.

“Pretty much.” Violet shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee with a glint in her eyes.

***

IVY: okay so you know i hate gossip

ROXY: Oh yeah me too gurl

IVY: lol

IVY: No really

ROXY: Yeah yeah whatcha got?

IVY: The dress Courtney’s wearing today?

ROXY: Oh yeah, she’s really upping her game

IVY: Well...it’s familiar…

ROXY: Oh yeah?

IVY: I asked Laganja to run some photos. Here’s BDR at last year’s Monsoon Foundation Charity Luncheon

[Picture: Bianca wearing the dress]

ROXY: BITCH!!!!!!!!111

***

“So yeah, these are the ones I like...what do you think?” Trixie asked, chewing nervously on the inside of his cheek. “I really need to find someone that Fame will love, she was so annoyed at the last batch.”

As Pearl picked up one of the portfolios to glance through it, she couldn’t help but notice how rough her friend looked, like he hadn’t slept in a week. He probably hadn’t, she realized, the tension in the apartment so thick you could cut it with a knife. She’d been trying to give them both space, but maybe that wasn’t a good idea.

“So, um…” She looked through the first portfolio and then picked up the next one, pausing on pages she found interesting. “Is everything okay? How are you?”

“Uhh…” Trixie scratched his head, then finally said, “It’s been a hard week.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s okay,” Trixie sighed. “We’ve got our- She’s got an appointment with a doctor tomorrow. So I guess, after that, we’ll know for sure.”

“Right.”

He didn’t seem to want to talk about it any more, so Pearl dropped the subject for the moment. She pointed to one of the photos, a stunning blue piece with dramatic shoulders, exactly the type of shapes to which Fame was generally drawn.

“This is amazing.”

“Yeah, right? She seems super talented, although I worry that she’s only been out of school for less than a year. A little green, a little…” Trixie sighed again, “Over-confident sounds mean, but…over-confident.”

“Have you spoken to all of them yet?”

“Yeah, Rita checked all their references and I had Skype interviews with all the top candidates this morning. We’re trying to move quickly, I really need to get the ball rolling before we shut down for the holidays. And with the added bonus of getting them a visa...it could be a mess. Anyway, these are the very best, but I don’t want to put them in front of Fame unless they’re actually gonna impress her.”

“Uh huh. One question though…”

“Sure.”

“Are you looking for another sociopath, or are we moving in a new direction?” Pearl asked, a teasing smirk on her face.

“You’re hilarious,” Trixie deadpanned.

“I know.” Pearl tapped on the folder, saying, “I think this one is special. There’s a lot of range, and new ideas, but very classic and chic at the same time.”

***

“Ho...ly shit…” Bianca said, the door to her town car open, watching Courtney twirl in her new coat, then open it to give her a peek at the sexy sequined mini-dress underneath. Bianca pulled her into the car, giggling, a hand immediately sliding up her bare thigh.

She was mildly surprised when her fingers came into contact with soft cotton instead of the sexy lace she’d been wearing.

“Wow, these feel...breathable.”

Courtney laughed. “Yeah, well, I’m out of fancy underwear until my next trip to the laundromat. Sorry about it.”

“Nah, I like them. Reminds me of college.” She flashed a grin at Courtney, who was now straddling her on the leather seat, arms around her neck.

“Yeah?” Courtney tilted her head, teasingly evading a kiss as Bianca chased her lips.

“Mmm…” Bianca’s fingers slipped into the panties, squeezing her ass.

“I like this, too…” Bianca’s own coat was unbuttoned since the driver had the heat on full blast, and Courtney ran her thumb along the neckline of her blazer. “You look so sexy…”

Bianca said nothing, just gave her a wicked smirk, lips finally coming into contact with her neck, lingering there, hot breath against her pulse point making her whimper.

“We should probably wait until after the-” Courtney inhaled sharply, clutching Bianca’s shoulders. “-after the party.”

“Alright, alright…” Bianca acquiesced, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and removing her hands. “I can be good if you can.”

“Debatable,” Courtney responded, her eyes flashing with a naughty glint as she sat down beside Bianca, snuggling up against her.

“It’ll be a fun little experiment.”

***

Violet was standing in Sutan’s closet in her pajamas, flipping through her clothes, her lip between her teeth.

None of it looked right, and Violet had given up on even trying on the dress she had originally gotten to go as Fame’s assistant, the skirt's mermaid cut making it impossible to move in with her crutches.

If her foot hadn’t been broken, she would have trawled her preferred vintage shops weeks ago, or would even have made a dress herself, but the party was in two days, and because of Bianca’s birthday, she couldn’t even empty her savings account to get a dress that could live up to the expectations of a Galactica party.

She was completely, and utterly, fucked.

“Fuck,” Violet sighed, dumping down in the arm chair Sutan had been sweet enough to move to his closet so she could sit.

“Violet? Are you okay?”

Violet cursed to herself, Sutan naturally catching her at a moment where it absolutely did not suit her.

“I’m okay!”

But of course, it wasn’t in Sutan’s nature to leave her alone, her boyfriends head poking through the door seconds later, a concerned expression on his dumb face.

“What’s gotten into you?” Sutan was fresh from the shower, his black and grey hair in an unstyled cloud around his head.

“You’re going to laugh.” Violet crossed her arms, the annoyance still under her skin, rolling around her body.

“Try me.” Sutan stepped inside, a towel wrapped around his hips, his hand holding it in place.

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

Sutan snorted, and Violet pointed at him.

“See!” She exclaimed. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“Okay, okay, I admit that wasn’t my greatest moment,” Sutan chuckled, giving her a quick apology kiss, Violet sinking back into the chair as he walked over to his dresser. “but the good news is that your problem is easily fixable.”

“I can’t just go out and buy a new dress.” Violet tried not to roll her eyes, tried not to make this a fight, but it was like Sutan had decided to press every single button she had. “I can’t afford it.”

Sure, she had gotten a pay bump after moving to design, but she had already used her December budget on Christmas gifts for everyone, actually spending the day with people so much more expensive than what she usually did, which was a movie on her ancient laptop and wine by herself.

“Who says you have to pay for it?” Sutan pulled a pair of pajama pants out, throwing his towel to the side, now naked which would have been weird if Violet hadn’t been used to years of dressing rooms. “I’m planning on getting a new suit anyway,” Sutan balanced on one leg, pulling the pants on, “and the shoppers at Barney’s are great at what they do.”

“Are you serious?”

“What makes you think I’m not?”  Violet watched as Sutan pulled a t-shirt on too, running a hand through the hair Violet knew he’d struggle to style in the morning, but that he was also done dealing with it for the night.

“I don’t want your money.” Violet sighed, sitting up in the chair, Sutan finally ready for bed.

She liked staying with Sutan, she really did, the man kinder and more generous than Violet could ever have imagined, but she was also longing to go back to her own place, to have her own space and to spend time completely alone.

She knew her apartment wasn’t much, that it didn’t have air condition or an elevator, that she didn’t have a memory foam mattress or a dishwasher or a housekeeper that came to clean, but it was hers.

Violet knew a psychiatrist would probably consider her need for independence a flaw, something she should work on, but she didn’t want to rely on anyone ever, not even Sutan.

“I can figure it out.”

“Oh that, I don’t doubt,” Sutan smiled, holding a hand out to help Violet out of the chair. “But there is a difference,” Sutan pulled, his hand finding her hip as soon as she was upright. “Between being prideful and being stubborn, lovely eyes.”

Violet shot him a look, and Sutan laughed, giving her nose a quick kiss.

“I’m offering to buy you dresses, not a penthouse.”

Violet opened her mouth to protest, but for once, Sutan was faster.

“You’re going to several parties for my sake. Let me spend money on you.” Sutan rubbed his thumb up and down, gently caressing Violet’s hip. “Please?”

“I’ll consider it.”

***

Being at this elite music industry party with Bianca was thrilling, and Courtney was on cloud nine. She was beside herself with excitement when she got to meet Charlie Hides, unable to stop herself from gushing about her work on Tove Lo’s album.

“Well thank you, darling,” Charlie said.

“Courtney’s a singer too,” Bianca added, and Charlie’s face perked up a bit.

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, aspiring,” Courtney couldn’t help admitting, immediately kicking herself for her inability to fake it.

“She’s incredibly talented,” Bianca said, a hand touching Courtney’s elbow, grounding her.

“You should send me your demo,” Charlie said, picking up two glasses of champagne from a passing tray and handing them over.

“Really? Thank you so much!” Courtney exclaimed, momentarily forgetting that she didn’t have a demo.

“Sure thing,” Charlie said with a grin, before excusing herself to greet another guest. Before she left, she gave Bianca a hug, muttering, “Very cute, B.”

After she walked away, Bianca turned to Courtney with a smirk. “She’s subtle, huh?”

“I think I’m gonna pass out,” Courtney said, and Bianca squeezed her hand.

“You’ll be fine. You’re doing great,” she assured her. “I see another producer I know, let’s say hello. Olivia!”

She waved across the party to a beautiful Black woman with the most fabulous hair Courtney had ever seen in her life. The woman looked up, sending Bianca a beaming smile as she crossed the room to greet her.

“Bianca!”

“Hey Liv, I haven’t seen you in forever!” Bianca said, giving her a hug.

“I know! I’ve been in L.A. for most of the year. Just decided to come back to New York in time for this delightful gray sleet we’ve been having,” Olivia said, that dazzling smile softening her words.

Bianca laughed, turning to Courtney.

“Court, Olivia Lux is an awesome producer. Liv, this my friend Courtney. She’s a singer.”

“Hi!” Courtney prepared for a handshake or some air kisses, only to be swept up into a warm hug. “So nice to meet you!”

“Charlie wants to hear a demo, but she hasn’t gotten the chance to record anything yet,” Bianca said. “Any chance you’re free? Or are you still booked up solid until the end of days?”

“No, I’ve got some time in January. What kind of music do you do, sweetie?” Olivia asked, turning to Courtney with that lovely smile.

“Um… Well, I guess it’s kind of like… Pop, but kind of folk?” Courtney said, trying to think on her feet.  “Like Joni Mitchell meets Kylie Minogue?”

“Sounds absolutely glorious!” Olivia said, and Courtney felt her confidence grow. “I know what it’s like when you’re starting out. That shit is terrifying.”

“I’m gonna go grab us some drinks…You two have fun,” Bianca said, leaving Courtney Olivia to talk shop.

After a couple of minutes, Courtney found herself feeling like she was with an old friend. She was just so warm and open, telling Courtney about her own career as first a recording artist, then a producer and composer, making her feel completely at ease--and shockingly interested in Courtney’s own musical taste. When Bianca returned with three cocktails, Olivia put an arm around Courtney and told her, “I’m in love with your friend.”

“Oh yeah?” Bianca said, amused. She handed them both drinks, adding, “Glad you guys are getting along.”

“Getting along? We’re gonna elope,” Olivia said, and Courtney giggled, smiling brightly, happy to have found someone so kind and down to earth.

“Mazel Tov,” said Bianca, giving Courtney a wink.

“Seriously though,” Olivia said, turning to flash Courtney that megawatt smile again. “Why don’t you hit me up and we’ll arrange for you to come into the studio?”

“That would be amazing!” said Courtney. She was so happy, she had to fight an urge to kiss the bottom of Olivia’s glittery heels.

“Perfect!” Olivia said, leaving them both with another round of hugs.

“That went well,” Bianca said, smirking at Courtney over the top of her glass.

“Yeah!”

“Come on, I want you to meet my friend Derrick. She’s a choreographer…”

Later, after about the 20th intro, Courtney began to catch on to a troubling pattern.

“Hey guys! This is my friend Courtney…”

“Meet my friend Courtney…”

“Courtney’s a friend of my sister.”

Friend, friend, friend...

At no point, to anyone, did Bianca say (or even imply) that there was something going on between them-- and Courtney wasn’t sure what to make of it. It wasn’t like she expected for Bianca to call her “my girlfriend.”

They hadn’t had that conversation, and something told Courtney that after tonight, it was a long way off.

She tried to put it right out of her head, though, and focus on the positive. She was at a great party, meeting a ton of music industry professionals, and yeah, maybe Bianca called her “friend” about 800 times, but friends were good, right? Especially considering how much Bianca loved her friends.

She continued to enjoy herself, greeting people, trying her best to learn their names, and just being grateful that Bianca had even brought her through the door. So what if she didn’t want people to know about their relationship? Or if this was just a casual fling for her? She was still doing more for Courtney and being more supportive than anyone she’d ever known.

It was close to 2 am when Bianca put a hand on her lower back and leaned in close--the most intimate gesture since they’d walked in the door.

“You ready to take off?” Bianca whispered.

“Sure,” Courtney said, slightly relieved since she could feel her own energy fading, and knew that making it to work by 7:45 the next day would be a struggle.

They said goodbye to Charlie and grabbed their coats, making their way downstairs to the waiting towncar. It wasn’t until they were on their way that Courtney really let everything hit her, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I…” Courtney swallowed.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“You sure about that? What’s wrong?”

Courtney shook her head vigorously as traitorous tears slipped down her cheek. “Nothing’s wrong, everything’s perfect.” She wiped her face, disgusted with herself.

“Then why are you crying, angel?”

“Because…” Courtney squeezed her eyes shut,  positive that she was about to ruin everything. “Because you’re just…making all my dreams come true.”

“Okay. Yeah, I can see how that would be upsetting.”

“No, it’s just…I'm scared, that it’s all gonna disappear,” Courtney said, now unable to hold back the river of tears. “You’re gonna get bored, or meet someone else, and I…I’m falling for you so hard and I know it’s too fast and I-”

“Hey, look at me.”

Courtney turned to her, eyes liquid, sniffling.

“I have been having…the best time with you,” she said, taking one of Courtney’s hands in both of hers. “And I know that it’s still new, but I said that I’d help you with your career and I will. No matter what happens with us. I promise. And I don’t break promises. Okay?”

Courtney nodded slightly, then asked, “Why don’t you want people to know about us? Are you ashamed? Are you just...already looking for a way out?”

“What?”

“You just kept introducing me as your ‘friend’ all night, and I just thought that it meant you don’t care about us, or that-”

“No! I dunno, I guess we haven’t really talked about labels, and I wanted to make sure everyone took you seriously,” Bianca said. “Took your talent seriously.”

“Oh.” Courtney sniffled, feeling a little stupid for letting her insecurites get the better of her.

“Also…you know, a lot of the people there were…mutual friends of…”

“Of?”

Bianca sighed slightly, a sheepish smile on her face, then said, “I guess it’s time to come clean to Fame and Raja, huh?”

“Really?” Courtney looked at her with surprise.

“Well, yeah. I don’t want us to feel like we’re sneaking around. That shit gets old real fast.” Bianca kissed the back of her hand. “I’ve been selfish, I was trying to do this without getting them annoyed at me, but…It’s not worth it if it makes you feel like I don’t care. Because I do.”

Courtney bit her lip, feeling like she might burst into tears again, but this time from joy. She took a deep breath, trying to get her racing heart to calm down.

“When do you want to tell them?”

“Well…the Galactica party’s on Thursday. Wanna be my date?” Bianca asked, a sly smile deepening her dimples.

Of course, they’d both been planning to go to the party, but Courtney had resigned herself to the idea that they’d be there separately. She’d even asked Tati to come as her plus one, not believing for a second that going with Bianca was a possibility. After all, it was so soon.

“That’s in two days!” Courtney exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Yeah… Does that work for you?”

For a second, Courtney felt almost dizzy, imagining walking into the party on Bianca’s arm. There was no way in hell that it wouldn’t cause a stir...but the idea of everyone seeing them together, while a bit frightening, was also terribly exciting.

“Okay. Yeah, that sounds...perfect,” she said, eyes shining happily.

“Okay then,” Bianca said softly, pressing a kiss to Courtney’s cheek.

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #bitney #vitan #courtney act #roxxxy andrews #bianca del rio #raja gemini #bob the drag queen #violet chachki #yvie oddly #miz cracker #ivy winters #trixie mattel #pearl liaison #olivia lux #charlie hides #lesbian au #m/f au #fashion au

[marybethsjournal]

Always

Summary: Molly has hit a wall with Dutch and doesn’t know what to do; she feels completely lost. Not to mention that she has started to have complicated feeling towards another gang member.

Pairing(s): Dutch Van Der Linde x Molly O’Shea, Molly O’Shea x Sadie Adler (strongly implied)

Word Count: 1903

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29265912

It was barely noon and the girls were day drinking yet again. This didn’t impress Molly much, but she had come to realize that nobody, not even Dutch cared about what she thought. Molly pushed the thought away. If she thought about how Dutch had been shutting her out and treating her badly in general, she would be driven to drink just like these harlots. And then she would be no better than them, which seemed to be the most humiliating thought possible at the time.

Molly was not surprised that Karen was leading the drinking charge of the day. That’s all the wench knew how to do, that and seduce men. She tried not to blame Karen too hard for that, though, because everyone knew Dutch was strongly encouraging her to put herself out there and if Molly verbalized her bias against working women, she’d have to implicate Dutch in the whole thing and she didn’t feel like doing that. Anything to exonerate her man from wrongdoing. What did surprise Molly was that that girl, Sadie, had joined the women for once. And not in the way Abigail had, coming over to get one drink and then gone back to her business (Molly didn’t blame her, she deserved a drink, especially since Jack had asked about 50 questions today already and the Marston man had tried to pants Bill and got a fist in his face in return). Sadie was downing the drinks faster than anyone else; she seemed to have no shame. Molly supposed that maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised. Sadie had gone through a significant transformation over the past few months. When Sadie had been brought in by Dutch, Micah, and Arthur, she seemed weak and quiet. She had worn dresses and otherwise modest garments, although nothing too fancy. Now, she had the audacity to yell at the men and one day, when out on the town with Arthur, she had bought a shirt and pants and she hadn’t taken them off since. Quite offensive, in Molly’s opinion, but Sadie objectively pulled it off quite well. Molly had noticed herself staring at Sadie quite often, observing the woman. She couldn’t pinpoint quite why, but she assumed it was normal. Sadie was pushing boundaries and was overall quite an interesting woman, more interesting than herself. Not to mention, Sadie was very beautiful. Anyone could see that, it wasn’t an odd thing for her to think.

Molly found herself in the same situation yet again. She was staring at Sadie, who was downing another drink and laughing at some joke Tilly (or maybe it was Karen??? Molly wasn’t doing a very good job focusing on anything other than Sadie at the moment) made. Molly smiled, seeing Sadie throw her head back in laughter. Her smile was so huge and genuine. It was only recently that she had started smiling again. Sadie had taken it rough, just like any woman would, when her husband died. Molly knew the pain hadn’t gone away, but Sadie seemed to finally be letting herself enjoy life with little guilt. She thought about Sadie’s smile a little longer than she probably should have and her mind ended up drifting to a few nights ago when she and Sadie had danced. The whole camp was ambient with laughter and music, coming both from the gramophone and Javier’s guitar. Everyone seemed to have found a partner and was dancing: Mary Beth with Arthur, Jack with Uncle (their form of dancing was far different than everyone else’s slow dancing, the pair were waving their arms wildly and running in circles together), Karen with Sean, Tilly with Lenny. Hell, even Abigail and that fool John had put aside their differences for the night and were dancing up on each other, a bit too provocatively for Molly’s liking. Molly had actually been really excited about the spontaneous party that night. She felt the distance growing between her and Dutch the past few weeks and she was convinced that that night could make it all better. She had put on her finest dress, fixed her hair, and perfected before asking him. But to her surprise, he told her that he was too tired and maybe they could try another time. Her surprise had turned to horror when she later saw Dutch dancing with Susan. The worst part was, Dutch didn’t even seem to care when Molly noticed. It was like he didn’t even care about her feelings.

Molly had run into the nearby forest to cry. She knew her makeup would smudge and usually she would refrain from crying to the best of her ability, but she didn’t care anymore. It only took a few minutes before Sadie had snuck up behind her and asked her what was wrong. She had been sitting on a rock nearby, not in a party mood, when she had heard Molly crying, she explained. How embarrassing.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened so I can fight a bitch?” 

Molly, despite her sadness, laughed. “It’s not really a bitch. It’s Dutch. Wouldn’t dance with me but he sure is dancing with Susan right now.”

“That old fart? Ah you can do better than him.” Sadie seemed to get an idea and clapped her hands together. “In fact, let’s show him what he’s missing. I’ll dance with ya.”

Molly was taken aback by Sadie’s proposal. 

“I’m not too sure that’ll make him jealous. Maybe if I danced with Charles or something…”

“Oh come on! Sorry I’m not Charles.” Sadie grabbed Molly’s hand and drug her back into camp

Molly was confused as to why Sadie seemed so insistent to dance with her, but she was certainly pleased by the attention. She rarely got attention from this gang.

The dance went wonderfully; Molly almost felt something resembling butterflies in her stomach, which she dismissed as simple indigestion. It was perfect until Molly apparently got too close to Sadie and she asked, “Miss O’Shea, do you expect me to kiss you or what?”

Molly was horrified. She gave some phony excuse and ran away from the situation as fast as she could, ignoring Sadie calling after her. Things had been pretty awkward between them since then.

Molly was startled out her daydreaming when Karen yelled at her, “Hey Molly, what are you looking at? You wanna drink or something?” Oh great, Molly thought after realizing she had been staring this entire time.

Molly walked over to where Karen was and for just a brief moment, allowed herself to look at Sadie again. Unfortunately, Sadie seemed to have the same idea. Their eyes locked and Sadie subsequently excused herself to go talk to Abigail. 

“What the Hell is her problem? Anyway, wanna drink? I’ll share mine. It’s the good kind of whiskey.” Karen offered some strong whiskey to Molly. There’s nothing Molly wanted less than to drink after Karen.

“I try not to drink outside of social settings.” Molly informed Karen, politely declining.

“Then WHY were you looking at me earlier?”

“I wasn’t.” Molly responded curtly.

“Then you were looking at Sadie. Cause I know you weren’t looking at these here two fools.” Karen made rude gestures at Mary Beth and Tilly. 

“I wasn’t looking at anything, Karen. Just thinking.” Molly couldn’t find it within herself to look anywhere besides her feet.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to offend you. You two, get out of here. I need to talk to Miss O’Shea alone.” Molly tried desperately to get the other two girls to stay but Karen insisted they leave. Apparently, Karen had much more pull among the other women than Molly did. That wasn’t one bit surprising, but it still seemed wrong.

“Wow, you really don’t wanna talk to me. My feelings are so hurt.” Karen took another swig of her drink before continuing. “Listen Molly, you know just as well as everyone else that I think you’re lazy and entitled. Just all around a nasty person.”

Molly nodded. Karen generally was straightforward and rude when she wanted to me, but it still seemed the drink must be doing a number on her for her to be able to say what she just had said.

“But for some reason my the dumb bitch in me has started to care. I didn’t think I had an angel on my shoulder, but here she is, annoying as ever, telling me, ‘Karen, you have to warn Molly. You don’t wanna see her get hurt.’ And then I tell them back that I don’t care if you get hurt but I still feel like I do care afterwards.”

It didn’t take much of an intellectual to make the observation that Karen had had too much to drink. Molly honestly couldn’t understand what she was saying: it sounded like a whole bunch of incoherent rambling in which she said a whole bunch, yet nothing at all at the same time.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. You don’t have a heart of gold like myself. But at least you do have a heart. Listen, I just wanted to let you know Dutch don't care about you.”

‘“Leave me alone, Karen. You’re drunk and I won’t hear anymore.”

“See, you know it’s true! He sees you as a toy more than anything. You’re gonna end up hurt and he’s not going to care one bit.”

“If you think he’s so bad, why are you still running with him?”

“A lot of us don’t have a choice, miss society lady. Besides, I know better to get involved with him.”

“Sure, Karen. Thanks, I guess.”

Molly had walked away and pretended like she hadn’t cared but even days later, the short conversation haunted her at every turn. Even late at night, lying in bed next to Dutch, she replayed the whole ordeal over and over again in her mind. She hated to admit it, but Karen was right. The man lying next to her didn’t feel much for her anymore, if he ever had in the first place. It was just cold lying next to him. Like sleeping with a complete stranger.

She had spent several consecutive nights not being able to sleep out of worry. Late into the night, she would search Dutch’s face for any sort of sign that maybe he cared about something, maybe not even her. She always came up with nothing.

It had become all too much for Molly. She found herself crying yet again. She had never known herself to be this emotional. Part of her wanted Dutch to wake up and see her in pain, but she knew in her heart that he wouldn’t care. He would just be irritated that someone interrupted his beauty sleep.

One night when Molly couldn’t control her crying any longer, she left their tent so as not to disturb Dutch. She walked towards the rock that she usually sat on while she read a book during the day. On her way, she noticed that Sadie was sitting on another rock on the other side of camp. What was she doing out this late. She supposed she would have to find out. Now was her chance to finally talk to Sadie and apologize for whatever had happened between them.

“Can I sit here with you?” Molly asked Sadie when she approached her.

“Always.” Sadie smiled at her.

“That would be nice.”

#red dead fanfic #rdr #rdr2 #red dead redemption #molly o'shea #karen jones #sadie adler #dutch x molly #sadie x molly #o'shadie

[jay-and-dean]

Become That Girl  Part 1/2

Dean x reader

Summary : Y/n never was his type. She is the buddy type ; sexy and glamorous are just not her. It’s time to try to change that... To change everything about herself. And maybe, just maybe, this flirty smile will be for her next time...

Warning : Swearing. Suffering and mentions of unhealthy behaviors. Smut. Unprotected sex (you’re smarter than this). Kinda rough sex. ANGST.

Words : 7.7 k

Author note : This was supposed to be a one shot, but there will be a part 2. I will publish it this week (tuesday I hope).

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

__________________________

            Dean's hand brushes that girl's palm and those adorable wrinkles appear on his eyes for her, he gives her these sweet eyes I saw only in these circumstances; his head slightly bending on the side. His flirty smile.

"It's ridiculous" I grunt, taking a sip of my beer.

"Yeah" Sam chuckles.

But I struggle to swallow. The truth is I would give my life, my soul and everything else for Dean Winchester looking at me like this just once. For him to touch my hand that way. For whatever is to come with that girl. The idea of him sinking inside her is like a stab in my chest, but I'm used to that pain.

           I know I will never taste his lips, because I'm not that girl, not even close.

           I'm the kind of girl guys love because they can be themselves with her, I'm the buddy type. And along the way, I became Dean Winchester's friend. He gives me drinks and teases me all the time on my tastes in music, on my tastes in food, in men... If only he knew.

           It was quick for me to fall in love with him. I have never been in love before, not for real ; so I didn't really know what was happening to me at first. I never was the kind of girl that forces to laugh at men's joke, that wear pink or try to look like society wants women to be. I never faked a smile, but Dean, he makes me giggle like an idiot, and everything he says actually interests me. I'm fascinated by him.

           He's beautiful, but that's not even what I like the most about him. It's like I just could read him, his soul, the way he hides pain, the way his humor is way darker than people think, that incredible ability he has to be himself, that fake harshness and the size of his noble heart...

           He bends to catch the girl's lips and I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back the whine of pain coming up my spine.

           My stomach contracts at how empty I feel and I look down at my hands. That void I feel each time I come to the full conscience that I will never feel him on and inside me, it hurts way too much. It’s beyond craving, it’s like a part of me was missing.

"Are you okay ?" Sam asks, probably reading the sorrow on my face.

"Of course" I state. "I'm just tired, that hunt was a bitch."

           I want to drink too much, drown my stupid brain in fucking alcohol. The puking and hangover are way better than being able to imagine him with her, his hands on her hair, his tongue around her nipples...

           I get up and go to the bar, avoiding to get too close to Dean and her, I don't need to know her smell or voice, my brain would turn it into torture.

"Whiskey please, leave the bottle" I tell the bartender.

He doesn't look at me when he hands me the bottle, not even checking my age or my eyes. He is looking at Dean's conquest and that desire, almost envy, on his face catches my attention despite my will not to look at her.

           Taking the bottle, I glance at that woman everyone seems to admire. Dean's back is toward me so I can see half her face, behind his silhouette. She's pretty. A wide smile on her face, bright eyes, sulky hair and makeup ; she doesn't have scars, or bruises like me and her only wrinkles are just highlighting her smile, like she had never worried or frown.

           I pour whisky in my own glass and empty it, then do it again. I go back to my table to join Sam, my empty glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, it didn't even pay, but when the bartender will be back on Earth, maybe he'll ask me. Meanwhile, fuck him.

"I'm not holding your hair tonight Y/n" Sam sighs.

"Yeah... don't worry Sammy" I shrug.

 ***

           "Oh... fuck…" I grunt opening my eyes. "Oh ! Fuck !" I gasp before I run to the toilets to empty my stomach in the bowl.

Sam pushes the door and rubs his eyes.

"Y/n ?"

"Shut up..." I whine, pushing my hair out of my sweaty face.

I flush the toilets and get up stumbling, I start undressing, knowing Sammy will just not watch, and he turns his back on me to pee. When I enter the shower, I grunt at the warm water.

"Coffee ?" he asks.

"Yes please, with aspirin in it... What is that ?" I look at my very sore hand and see it's all purple and blue. "Sammy why is my hand all bruised ?"

He chuckles and when he washes his hands the water of the shower suddenly becomes cold for a minute.

"A guy called you babydoll and touched your ass" I hear the smile in his voice. "You broke his face before I could move."

Shit... I bet if someone had done that to Dean's pretty girl, she would have needed a prince in shining armor. Me, I just break faces. I grunt and put my head on the tiles, I'm just not a lady, maybe that's why Dean doesn't want me, even for a quick fuck...

           I'm in my jeans and bra when Sam comes back with coffee. He gives it to me and hands me aspirin. He slept in my motel room, that means Dean brought his girl in theirs. I frown and grunt, my eyes still barely open. Sam offers me an amused dimple smile.

"When you're around, it's like having another Dean" he mocks.

My heart breaks.

           I know it was not meant to be mean and being anything like Dean can only be a good think but... Am I really so far from being a girly girl ?

           I get up and take my clothes, my too long and worn out Led Zeppelin t-shirt and black rangers. I sigh. Yeah well maybe I don't dress like a princess too... Fuck !

           The door opens and Dean enters the room with cups of coffee in his hands. Each time that man comes near, something happens, like the colors were brighter, like my blood was warmer… He turns to me and raises his eyebrows, probably seeing what a mess I am, my wet hair all messy, the cuts and bruises on my arms, face and hands.

"You look like shit" he says and a new kind of stab hits my gut. "What did you do last night ? Did you see someone ?"

"Haha ! She met a guy !" Sam mocks and I grunt.

"Really ?" Dean frowns like it was beyond surprising.

"She may have broken his jaw" Sam chuckles and Dean comes closer.

"Did you fight again ?" he sighs, taking my hand to check on it.

He still smells like this girl’s perfume and I'm nauseous. I take my fingers back and show him I can move them fine with an annoyed look. Then I take the coffee of his hand and thank him.

"Hey !" he calls me when I'm about to take my bag to leave.

So I turn around and put a light kiss on his cheek like I do every morning, making him smile like a child. I stare for a little too long at his proud face and walk pass him.

           In the car I take my shoes off to put my feet on the backseat, Dean is mumbling the Metallica song, his beautiful strong fingers dancing on the rhythm against the wheel. And before I can look away, I have this vision of him sinking this amazing middle finger inside her core.

Shit... I'm nauseous again.

I guess in this world of blood and violence, coming deep inside a soft sweet angel-like princess must be a relief. I can’t enjoy one night stands anymore, but he can, good for him. It's not his fault if sex makes me feel dirty since I know him, like I was cheating...

           Stupid.

I just wish it would happen to me once... Having him. I know how dumb this sounds because I'd probably be dead with grief once he turns to a better girl again, but I would give anything to spend a night with him. I have to stop dreaming, he doesn't even see me as a woman.

           I frown and put my head back on the window.

"Hey Y/n ?" he says, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. "Now the hunt is over, we finally have a little time together. We could do our horror movies marathon ? I can't wait to see your face when we wa..."

"You're the one hiding against me Winchester" I state with my usual a mocking grin.

It's not even a lie and he rolls his eyes, glancing at Sam who's still listening to some conference in his headphone.

"I just can't wait to eat all those candies we hid in your room, without Sam lecturing us" he smiles with his teeth showing and my heart melts.

           What if I tried...

What if I tried to be the kind of girls he likes ? I mean, I'm nothing special but with a little efforts I could at least become a girl in his eyes... Would he still be able to just stuff his mouth with sugar when he's so close to me in my bed, if he saw me as a real lady ?

           I look down at myself and sigh. I will have to change absolutely everything... But maybe this could work.

 ***

           It's only been a few hours since we got back, Dean went to take a shower and Sam went running, which doesn’t make fucking sense after a hunt so rough.

Taking a huge bite of that big double chocolate brownie, I stare at my laptop, watching stupid videos of makeover, style, makeup and how to do your hair ; and if I wasn't thinking of if Dean would like this thing or not... I would probably have died of boredom already.

           I should try to work on my attitude too. Swear less, sit straighter, be less loud, spontaneous, stop saying when I need to pee, drink less and try those stupid sweet cocktails when I do, let men defend me. I don't get to skip wax day anymore, I have to look sexy or eventually childishly cute, but not at all like I do right now. Boy !Being a “girl” is no fun at all.

           I look at the Pinterest and Instagram pictures of those pretty girls and put my brownie down watching my belly, a diet wouldn't hurt either.

           A knock on my door, Dean enters with a cute smile, his hair still wet. I close my laptop and throw the brownie in the trash, sitting straighter already, I pull my stomach slightly in.

"I bought beer" he says and sits on my bed, opening one for me but I shake my head. "Still too hangover ?" he asks and I nod.

           During the whole movie, I try to watch my attitude, not spreading my legs to put bowls of candies between them, not making fun of him when he jumps. And when he falls asleep beside me, I just stare at him thinking of how many things I would sacrifice for him. I dare touching his hair and leans to my touch, coming closer in his sleep. I want more.

I need more.

 ***

           I barely slept tonight, half stressed, half exited by my project.

As usual, Dean left in the middle of the night, kissing my forehead to say goodnight. I get up, eat fruits and shit instead of cereals and go running, drinking water, more water than what I usually drink in a week. I read coffee makes teeth become yellow and gives shadows under the eyes, so I will stop it too.

When I take my car to go fucking shopping -I always hated shopping-, I try my best to smile, looking on the mirrors of the car. Sweet and open Y/n...

           I manage to hold back my middle finger when a jerk takes the parking lot I wanted. I'm hungry but my body needs to learn to shut up. If I want Dean Winchester to consider kissing me, I have to be perfect. There is no compromise.

I try clothes and I feel like I'm wearing a costume, with those bruises and all, it's stupid anyway. So I decide to go one step at a time. I'll wear normal size shirts instead of oversized and a nice jacket first, I'm not ready for dresses or too colorful for now.

           I buy lace panties and push up bras then decide to throw away my other underwear to make sure I wear them, because they're so uncomfortable I will be tempted to go back... I keep drinking water when I buy makeup and nail polish, trying my best to both pull my stomach in and ignore the heavy perfume smell and the employees trying to sell me way too many things. I need girly shampoo and all, because I usually just use Dean's.

           Then I lock myself in my room for hours, fighting with my body, waxing with incredible care, putting sticky things on my hair to make them shiny, cream on my skin to make it soft, mascara to make my eyes bigger… I even pierce my own ears.

           But the more I try, the more I feel ugly. I always tied my hair in buns-easier to fight, run and look like an FBI agent- but now it’s down, and I look at these models,it seems dull… Same for every inch of my body. Why do girls do that to themselves ! Or maybe I’m the one that is a problem, maybe I’m just disgusting and avoided to see it for years. No wonder why Dean never looked at me.

           I stare at myself and sigh. Fuck. Even doing all that, there is about zero chance Dean would ever want me one day, even just for a night. It’s going to hurt way more than hunger and wax, but I have to go further, I have to pay attention when he’s with a woman…

 ***

             “MOTHERFUCKING BITCH !” I yell throwing the stupid scale against the wall.

It’s been three months and I haven’t lost a pound. I’m hungry all the time, from morning to the next morning, it’s even waking me at night. I only eat salad and drink water… I mean, my hands are shaking for Christ sake !

           Three months of trying so hard to act like a sweet fragile angel with a weakness for sin : cute and sexy. But I’m still swearing like a sailor when I don’t pay attention and I’m still fat. Hunts are becoming more difficult because I’m weak, and fun times with my friends are more rare, because they only do what I can’t : drink beers, eat burgers, make fun of horror movies, play whiskey poker… I used to love whiskey poker so much ; the night Dean invented it, we were beyond drunk but it was one of my best memories, he ended cutting my hair and it was bad, but I didn’t care at all.

“Are you okay ?” Sam says, opening the door but I close it brutally.

“Sam ! I’m a girl you know ! You and your brother can’t just enter the bathroom when I’m in it !” I yell through the door, hurt that they keep treating me as if I was the third Winchester brother, and worried they would see my ugly fat body...

“Sorry Y/n, I didn’t know you were naked” he states.

“Naked or not, Sam !”

“What’s the problem ?” I hear Dean ask his brother, and put my head on the door.

“She’s just grumpy again…” Sam sighs and I frown.

I do argue with them more often… I didn’t noticed that.

“Sweetheart ?” Dean calls though the door and tries to push it.

“Are you serious !” I cry out pushing the door. “Stop forgetting I’m a girl, you don’t get free access on the bathroom when I’m in it !”

“Okay” Dean just says and he leaves.

           I never forbid them to enter, and I have great memories of watching Dean brushing his teeth while I dried my hair, of his intimacy only hidden by a white towel around his waist while I joined him in the hot steam his shower made to talk about anything.

           My Dean and I used to be awesome… But in a buddy way. I feel tears fill my eyes but try to hold them back because I really don’t want to do my makeup again. I caught him staring at my cleavage yesterday, and he said lipstick suited me last week. I have to be strong, if Dean gives me that flirty eyes, I would be worth it.

           But we don’t talk that much either and… I really miss him in every way, I miss my friend and I feel lost and lonely. The sadness these thoughts bring, mixed with the exhaustion of hunger, and the pain of that unrequited love finally makes me fully burst in tears. My hand on my mouth I muffle the sounds of my sobs, realizing I will never have him, and probably fucked up the only good thing I had : That pure and loving friendship with the Winchesters.

 ***

             I take a bite of my salad and hold back a gag. Not that I don’t like salad, but eating only that is becoming really sickening. Dean looks at me and there is no kind expression on his face, that tender smile I used to see everyday faded along the weeks.

“Take a bite” he says, handing me his burger, cheese dripping on his fingers.

“What ? No…” I shrug. “I’m not super hungry.”

I’m not an idiot, at least not completely : I knew my best friends would notice a change in my behavior. I mean, Dean seeing a change is the all point, but I don’t want to look like I’m trying so hard. So lately I’ve been putting empty pizza boxes on the table from time to time. And my outfits were replaced slowly…

           But they’re not idiots either.

“I just want to check something” he says.

I can’t, after all these efforts, if I bite in that thing, I will become even fatter than I am, I can’t afford that…

“I don’t want to, Dean.”

“I made it myself” he insists, practically putting the food on my lips and the smell is becoming too tempting.

“Dean ! No ! I’m sure it’s delicious because your homemade burgers are always a success but it’s a no !” I push him wiping the ketchup that fell on my shirt. “What is wrong with you…”

“What is wrong with me !” his harsh tone surprises me. “I’m super worried, that’s what is wrong ! Do you have eating disorder now or something ?”

“What ? No ! Of course not, you know me !”

“Yeah… Do I ?” he asks before getting up, leaving his plate barely touched in front of me.

“Dean ?” I call but too low, he can’t hear me…

 ***

           I didn’t come out of my room. Not once, since Dean looked at me that way, a sad way, like I had betrayed him or something, just because of a burger…

           Who am I kidding ? It’s not because of a burger, my best friend just doesn’t recognize me. I can’t be that girl, I’m just not enough. Curling in my bed, I take a deep shaky breath, I’m really tired of crying so I just stare at the wall, thinking about what Dean must think of me. He must be disappointed, and that’s the worst I can imagine. Dean, my Dean, thinking low of me, annoyed or hurt because of me.

           A knock on the door. I lift my eyes to the red numbers in the dark : 10:18 pm. Usually, when one of the brothers knock on my door, they start talking to me through it and if I don’t yell that I’m naked, they just enter. Not this time. The knock is discreet and followed by a heavy silence.

           Surprised by that unusual quiet, I get up, arranging the top I was wearing because it went up my stomach. I open the door and my pupils grow, I can almost feel it, seeing Dean’s beautiful eyes in the lights of the corridor.

“Y/n…” he says with his deep voice, his right hand on his pocket. “I’m sorry I was a drag earlier. You need space from us, I get it… Living with guys…” his tone is a little sad but very kind, I don’t know what to say. “Just, don’t change who you are, please. You can eat what you want and wear what you want sweetheart, okay ?”

“I do” I nod to close the subject and ease that worrying on his handsome face.

He bends and slowly crushes the plumb of his lips on my forehead like he always does when he’s worried about me, after hunts, before hunts… when I’m sick or tired or anything. I close my eyes, trying to enjoy this without ruining it with the pain of that stupid unrequited love.

“I just miss my friend” he says low. “I promise I won’t bother you more and knock and all, but could we spend a night together at the bar ? With Sammy ? Like we used too ? I miss that.”

The look on his face is like his brother’s puppy eyes and I feel both relieved and terrified. I miss him like crazy and just want to say yes and follow him running ; but if he leaves with a girl… It might kill me this time.

“Yeah… Okay” I sigh. If he gets with a woman, I’ll just try to observe her. “Can I just have a little time to get ready ?”

“Of course sweetheart” he nods, letting go of me. “Take your time.”

           After a few minutes trying to recover from Dean being so adorable, I finally managed to go to the bathroom. Tonight I will really try to look like one of Dean’s conquest, so I stare at it : the only dress I own.

           I bought it after I saw Dean glance at a girl in the street during the last hunt. It is the kind of dress I thought I'd never wear, I actually never even thought of wearing one in my life. The dress the girl wore was a little too sexy according to me, even slutty. Women should dress like they want to, but I wasn't ready for that super short red bustier dress, with boobs everywhere calling for attention.

           Yet, I have to become that girl, that's the whole point. If Dean likes his women bundled up in skinny dresses, so be it.

           I sight, looking at the girdle I have to wear to put that dress on, I empty my lungs and compress my stomach the more I can. Taking the dress, I hesitate, maybe this is too much.... But this is the prize to pay if I want any chance that Dean would look at me ; tonight I'm going to be that girl.

           The dress is simple but very sexy. Black taut fabric hugging me tight, with a cleavage like a bra, and straight straps, useless because the dress is so tight it holds me. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh, I'm not enough.

           I put makeup, just mascara and lipstick, and right now I have trouble thinking I don't look like a whore, but I try to remember those girls Dean likes wear more makeup and even sexier closes, so...

           A knock.

"Y/n ?" Sam says. "If you don't get out of this bathroom, Dean will be drunk before we reach the bar.

           Shit, the short dress is so tight that my panties are showing.

"Yeah, go to the car, I'm ready !" I state through the door, taking off my panties.

I have no underwear that would be good with this dress... It is short, but not too much, and it's tight, so no one will see anything when I sit. I look at myself in the mirror and decide I just won't wear panties. I take my black leather jacket and leave the bathroom trying to hide I'm shaking.

 ***

           When I enter the garage, Sam and Dean are sitting on the edge of Baby, with Led Zeppelin playing. The girdle is hurting me but I stay straight, trying to look casual.

           The two men's eyes widen and I have no idea how I am supposed to understand their look but I try not to think of it. I give them a shy smile, like I was begging them not to judge. I was waiting for a comment or anything, but they just stay totally silent.

           In the car I don't know how to sit, I always put my feet on the seat but there is no way I can do that now, so I just stay there, held upright by this awful prison compressing my ribs and stomach.

           Dean checks on me on the rear-view mirror, his face totally neutral, like he was hiding whatever he is thinking... A few months ago, I would have made fun of him, I would have asked him what was wrong with me, I would have told him to look at the road -I always did that when I caught him staring at me in the mirror-, but now, I just look down.

           Being sexy is also feeling sexy, the woman on the video said. I'm not really the kind of woman that feels sexy, but I could try. The problem is, each time I try to focus on sexy things to make this work, I end up thinking of Dean, of when his beautiful hands land on me, of his smell and his shoulders, of his mouth... And in the end, I'm felling more horny than sexy. I guess not wearing panties is kind of sexy...

 ***

           The bar is not too crowded but loud, the sound of pool balls shocking on each others, and the manly laughs of men drinking alcohol. Tugging at my dress, I look around to see if any girl could catch Dean's attention : maybe that girl at the bar, but she seems to be with a man. People are looking at me, I'm not used to it, I feel like my lack of underwear is written on my face.

           When he passes behind me, Dean puts a hand on my back, sending a shiver all along my spine. He always does that, but I'm usually wearing real clothes.

"What do you want to drink sweetheart ?" he says and I hesitate.

Alcohol is caloric, I can't really afford to drink it. After a long hesitation, I decide a whiskey would make me forget all those eyes on me.

           Taking the first sip of the amber liquid, I close my eyes. This taste reminds me of some good memories when Dean and I stayed in the kitchen to talk, slowly sipping and smiling at each other.

"Pool ?" Sam asks pointing the other side of the bar with his beer bottle.

"Yeah I don't know" Dean looks down, making me wonder... He always loved pool.

"Come on Dean !" I smile raising up, the evening is supposed to be about saving my friendship with him.

He frowns like something was hurting him, his beautiful mouth forming a pout, his dark green eyes searching my face. I can't read him. He doesn't look at me like he always did, but not like he looks at those girls either. My smile fades and the air becomes thick.

           He gets up slowly and brushes past me when he walks to the pool.

"Okay, but you stay with me" he grunts.

I follow him and notice eyes are moving with me. I know what's happening : I must be embarrassing him, that’s why he acts weird. I swallow hard and watch him take cues, the muscles of his jaw are clenched.

"So Y/n... This dress..." Sam whispers close to my ear. "Is it just to make Dean mad or is there a guy you want to go home with ?"

My heart stops.

"Dean ?" I just say searching his eyes, but he laughs. "Why..."

I can't finish my sentence because Dean gets close to me to give me the cue he prepared. His handsome face still pretty stern, he offers me to start.

           The air is still thick and Sam's words turn in my head, bouncing in every directions, banging in my head like a lost bat. What does that even mean ? Dean must be disappointed in me, maybe little a big brother wouldn't want to see his sister wear a slutty dress... Maybe what he meant was that, as Dean wanted a friendship night, dressing like I'm waiting to leave them for a one-night stand is annoying. I don’t know who I am anymore, or how I am supposed to behave.

"Y/n..." Dean calls me from the other side of the pool. "You never lose at this game, even against me... Are you okay ?"

"Yes I..."

Pretty girls don't win against the man they want, they make them feel strong and all those bullshit that polluted my brain. I'm distracted and I have no idea what to think again. Right now, I just dream of becoming the old me again, slap his ass when I win just to mock him, make him pout, drink like him, swear and get rid of that awful pain on my ribs.

"I just need another drink" I finally chose to answer. "Whiskey ?"

He nods in a frown and I leave toward the bar.

           When I order a drink, this time, the bartender looks at me, and even if it's not the same place and the same man, I can't help but think it has something to do with how I look tonight.

"There sweetheart" he smiles and I shiver at the nickname I only heard from Dean's mouth. "Tell me... Those guys ?" he points his chin to Sam and Dean.

"What ?" I glower, completely forgetting the have-a-flirty-smile-all-the-fucking-time rule.

"You know… are you with one of them ?" he says with an actually kind corner smile.

"No" I state and his grin spread to his whole mouth.

He is cute, dimples on his soft face, dark caramel-colored skin, warm black eyes highlighted by thick black curled lashes. And the softness on his features finally make me give him back a smile.

"Good because I couldn't fight any of them" he chuckles with a hint of shyness.

I chortle lightly at how right he is without knowing it. I search his face; he seems sincere and kind, there is something calming about him, no violence, no pretention.

"Hi" a man appears behind me. "Can I buy you a drink ?"

I turn to him, confused, and see in the corner of my eyes that the bartender is looking down.

"No" I smile. "Thank you but I already have a drink."

The man sighs and leaves, muttering something that I probably would hate to hear ; and a few months ago I would have made him repeat.

"Daryll" the bartender says.

"Y/n" I state.

"Let me offer you this drink..." his charming dimples appear again. "It's rare enough to see a beautiful young woman ordering whiskey.”

For the first time in a very long time, I could actually picture myself spending a night with that guy and just this feeling is already amazing : It’s like I was free, my heart belongs to Dean but, if he doesn’t want me, maybe I could at least lend my body to a kind man. I look down at my glass and forget that he hits on me just because of the dress for an instant. Daryll is really cute and smiling to him is not an effort.

"Are they your brothers or something ?" he asks, putting his arms crossed on the counter.

"No..." I turn and catch Dean's eyes but look down. "Friends."

"Oh..." he says with a pained look. "One of them is an ex or a crush ?"

I give him a sad smile, not knowing what to answer.

"Okay... Maybe you want me to leave you alone" he sighs but I shake my head, taking a sip of alcohol to swallow the lump in my throat.

“No” I give him a reassuring smile. “It’s not new… Don’t worry.”

But his eyes leave mine to look behind me with a strange expression, something weirdly close to submission.

"Y/n" Dean's voice calls me from behind and I freeze. "Can I just... Talk to you ?"

I take a deep painful breath and turn slowly to see him, his sweltering charisma emanating of him, and just like that, my calming feeling of being able to see myself kiss -or more- Daryll fades. Dean eclipsing the entire world.

"Talk ?" I raise my eyebrows.

He just nods so I glance at the cute bartender.

"I... I'll be back" I say with no joy and he gives me a polite but disappointed smile.

           Dean starts to walk and I follow, looking at his shoulders, afraid of the discussion coming. He doesn't stop anywhere in the bar and leads me outside. It’s still warm ; I look up to see the stars shining behind the feeble lamppost light.

“Y/n” he turns around to face me, his bow legs lightly spread like he needed to be hitched to the floor. “What is that ?”

I can’t read his body language.

“What is what ?” I mutter, ready for reproaches.

“You know every man here is trying to find a plan to bring you home…” he grunts.

“Well each time you go somewhere, it’s the same…”

He crosses he arms looking up while he takes a deep inhale. An overwhelming urge to cry strangles me and I decide to leave, opening my purse, I start looking at my phone to call a cab and walk toward the side of the bar.

           Dean grabs my arm firmly.

“Where are you going ?” he asks, still pretty stern.

“I just want to go home, De…”

But I can’t finish my sentence because he pushes me against the wall, both hands making sure my shoulder touches the concrete. And before I can register any of what’s happening, his lips meet mine.

           Taking a deep inhale by his nose, he crushes those plumb lips made of dream on mine and my body reacts in a thousand ways. Pure electricity roam my skin and muscles, my heart seems to grow twice his size and his beatings fasten so hard my own blood is making me high ; every erogenous part of my body takes fire and a hot slick drips between my thighs instantly.

           I don’t move but Dean cups my face and kisses my mouth again, gently taking my upper lip between his. Parting my lips slightly, I feel his tongue graze me. I close my eyes and let him kiss me, he bends his head on the side a little and invades my mouth like he could only breathe through me.

           I could stay like this my whole life, completely lost in the perfect feeling of his face so close, in the taste of him… But he’s eager and his hands leave my cheeks to rub my shoulders and down my arms. I didn’t know my body could feel so intensely…

           A moan escapes me and his lips leave my mouth suddenly, letting it wet and swollen, open and burning. His nose grazes my ear, sending shivers run all over me, and he starts leaving open mouth kisses along my throat.

           By the time his hands reach my waist, I’m shaking. His fingers are like conquerors, winning every battle, pushing boundaries. They go down my ass and squeeze it strongly, crushing me to his own waist.

This is happening.

           My inner walls clench at this thought and my head falls back, only held by the concrete. He goes lower, catching the hem of my dress, slowly pulling it up, his nails scratching the back of my thighs. Another moan.

           When my dress is just under my intimacy, he harshly grabs my legs and carries me easily, encouraging me to wrap them around his waist. I do.

           He doesn’t take us far, just turning on the side of the bar, where the light of the lamppost doesn’t go, pushing me against the wall, his hips eagerly crushing his erection against me. His lips claim me again and, when they do, my body finally allows me to move.

           I grab his neck and scratch the back of his head, rolling my hips against him. That craving I endure since I know him finally about to be satisfied. He groans in my mouth.

“Fuck…” he bites my lip, his hips joining the movement of mine, and through the rough fabric of my dress and his jean, his hard length press on my sensible clit.

“Anh!” I cry out, clinging to him. “Oh… God” I inhale, the girdle blocking my lungs in a pain my brain just registers as pleasure, because each of my cell is illuminated with it for now.

“Y/n…” he whines, his teeth teasing my pulse point.

           My hands dare going lower, slipping inside his collar to feel the intoxicating move of his upper back muscles. The circle movements of my hips makes my dress slip higher and when my folds come into contact directly with his crotch, sweat breaks through my skin.

“Oh fuck…” I moan, my hips starting to shake.

His hands grab my ass to rub me more against him and I can notice his fingers searching my panties.

“No panties Y/n…” he states in a growl, bending to bite the part of my boobs accessible on my cleavage. “You’re soaking my jeans sweetheart.”

I nod and tug at his hair to dig my tongue between his perfect lips again. His hand falls between us and scrape my inner thigh, at the closeness of his fingers, my walls clench again, like it was trying to catch him. His fingers finally reach my folds and slip between.

“Dean !” I cry out. “Dean… Dean… God… Dean !”

My legs are spread wide to cling to him, so when his thumb find my clit, his middle finger encounter no trouble to reach my entrance, caressing it and pushing on it.

“Pleeease…” escapes my lips in a wail and he smiles in the kiss.

           Torturing me, his finger keeps pushing on my entrance without really entering me and I have never felt so empty. I’m pathetically trying to come closer, but that’s impossible.

           The tip of his middle finger finally pushes inside me and my pussy flutters. His free hand come up to grab my hair, I gasp but he doesn’t hurt me, he just tugs firmly but slowly at it to have access to my throat. He sucks a hickey on the side of it, and I let him mark me like I was his. I am, really.

           His strong finger enters me in one go, making me choke in ecstasy. He doesn’t wait and slips another, grunting when he pushes deep.

           I have dreamed of Dean since forever, I have pushed my own fingers inside of me thinking of him… But nothing could have prepared me for this. I’m soaking his hand, nothing ever made me that wet ; and when he crushes his hips on me in a low moan, making his digits go deeper, I can’t help but come.

           I’m silent, my lungs crushed by their prison, my blood burning in my head and cleavage. Gasping for air, I feel my walls crush him and electricity shocks my whole body.

           A deep growl vibrates inside him. He takes his hand off of me a little too fast and I hiss. His trembling hand attacks his belt but it's too slippery so he changes hand, putting the wet one on the wall behind me, and the other between us to free is aching cock.

           When he pushes his clothes down a bit, I can’t help but look down, biting my lips. Here it is, what I crave inside of me all the time, precum nonchalantly dripping of it, red and swollen. Beautiful.

“Dean… Take me” I plead.

“Yes” he groans. “Yes…” he repeats for himself.

           He lines his length with my entrance and I can’t help but moan and pant, still looking down to see his length disappear slowly inside me. When he pushes in, it’s harsh and faster than I had anticipated. A sharp pained pleasure makes me cry out loud.

           The hand on the wall finds my mouth and crushes on it to silence me. In the deep inhale I take through my nose, I can smell myself.

           He’s big. For a second my heart panics, like I couldn’t take him, but my walls flutter and while he doesn’t move, I have time to adjust to him.

“Are you okay ?” he pants in my ear, tickling me with his breath.

I nod despite his strong hand holding my face.

           He doesn’t wait longer, withdrawing almost completely before he powerfully pushes in again, making my eyes roll in my skull. A loud scream is muffled by his large palm taking half my face.

“Fuck… Y/n… How can you be so…” but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

Grunting like a wild beast, he starts thrusting in me like he had waited for it as much as me. His powerful body carrying me like I weighted nothing. My ribs hurt but I don’t care at all because it can almost feel his cock between them. It’s like he was everywhere.

I love you, I think loud. Just because I’m used to say that when I think of him.

“Y/n…” he moans, and the hand on my face becomes so strong I think it could bruise my jaw.

I can feel his own pleasure, the sweat on his forehead, the shakes on his chest, the pleas in his groans, and the throbs of his cock deep inside of me. I grab his ass, slipping my hand inside his jeans to dig my nails in it, encouraging him to take me harder, even if I don’t know if I can take harder, simply because I never had it.

           When his thrusts turn to hard beats of his hips, I scream in his hand and my toes curl in my shoes.

“Fuck ! F-Fuck ! Fff…” his voice is intoxicating.

Fireworks explode everywhere in my body and I’m quite sure this is an orgasm until the real thing strikes like a lightning.

           My stomach contracts like I had a cramp and my thighs squeeze him stronger than I thought possible, my walls milk him and my head is spinning. I have never felt a pleasure so intense and tears soak my face.

“Oh G-G-GOD !” he cries out like he hadn’t anticipated the intensity of my orgasm at all.

           He stills deep inside of me and empties himself in a wail, grabbing my jaw brutally and clumsily to crush his lips on mine. His hips start to thrust lazily after he had stilled totally and his behavior changes. He wipes my tears, gently kisses my cheeks and rubs my neck like he was trying to erase the marks his body roughly let on me.

           My brain starts to register what’s happening and I look at him, amazed by his beauty and the feeling of him. I didn’t think it would be possible to love him more…

But, when I can’t help but smile to him, the look on his face hits me like a hundred punches in the guts.

He already fucking regrets.

No flirty smile. Not even a kiss.

Regret.

What was I thinking ?

           After Heaven, it’s like I was thrown in Hell. I push on his lower stomach to make him withdraw, and he does, my feet reach the floor again. Not looking at me, he puts his now soft cock back in his pants, closing his belt in a disapproving shake of his head.

           I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I can taste blood in my mouth. The world is spinning. His cum is dripping out of me, along my thighs and I look down to see it. Grabbing my purse on the floor, I take a tissue from it and wipe my thighs, an intense feeling of shame making me nauseous.

           He watches me struggle with it and offers me to take the tissue to throw it away with a movement of his hand. I’m so stupidly in love with him, I have the paranoid feeling he just wants to take that back from me… I give him the tissue and he wipes his thumb when cum reaches his skin.

“Are you okay ?” he asks, like I could be.

I nod looking down, tugging at my dress to hide this body I now definitely hate.

“I didn’t hurt you sweetheart ?” he insists.

“No Dean…” I find my voice.

“Good” he states with that serious low voice of him.

“I want to go home” I say faking a casual tone.

“Sure” he nods. “Let me get Sam and your jacket…”

He gets closer and puts one of those usual friendly kisses on my temple.

I did it. I made Dean want me. But this victory just really doesn’t feel like one…

(To be continued...)

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#supernatural #SPN #spn fic #spn fanfic #SPNFamily #dean winchester #Supernatural Dean Winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x yn #dean x reader #Smut #angst #jay-and-dean