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#send help there’s something wrong with me I’m attracted to cowboys
deans-baby-momma · 3 years
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Once In A Lifetime
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A/N: Well guys. I guess you can say I fell down a rabbit hole....DEEP down a rabbit hole. And I’m going to blame Walker. LOL I’ve always been a Jensen/Dean girl with Jared/Sam curiosity and after a dream I had a few nights ago, THIS happened.  Now the dream was only the first part of this story, meeting them in a restaurant but them, while writing it took on a life of it’s own and I am not sorry in the least. 
Summary: During your shift as a waitress as a restaurant in Austin, you are surprised to find two of your favorite celebrities in your section. How will that encounter cause you to have a once in a lifetime experience? 
W/C: 11,138 words ( I’m not the least bit sorry)
Y/N: Your Name; Y/E/E: Your employment establishment
Warnings: ogling, fantasies, smut, p in v, fingering, v on v, oral (both giving and receiving), fisting, anal play, cum play, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, squirting, daddy kink, mama kink
"Holy shit," I exclaim before clapping my palm over my mouth as there were three adorable children in the vicinity. "Sorry. My name is Y/N and I'll be your server today," I say as I try to calm down. Jared and Genevieve Padalecki were seated in my zone at Y/E/E. "Can I interest you in some appetizers or some coloring pages and crayons for the kids?"
I can't help but glance around at the five of them. They two boys sporting the longer locks like their dad and the little girl, all dolled up with her light brown hair flowing down over her shoulders. They were three of the six most adorable kids in the world; the other three being the Ackles kids but I had yet to see them in person, only on the computer.  
“We will take some buffalo cauliflower bites and some mozzarella cheese sticks with marinara,” the loveliest voice I’d ever heard spoke. I look toward Genevieve to see her smiling at me, her brown eyes sparkling. 
“And-” I pause to swallow. “-for drinks?”
“Whatever is on tap for Jared, I’ll take a sweet tea with lemon and the kids will have Sprite,” she tells me, the smile on her face unmoving. ‘God she’s gorgeous,’ I think to myself as I write down the orders. ‘Jared is one lucky son of a bitch.’
I grin as I tell them I will be right back with their drinks and head toward the server area. I throw my pad down on the counter and lean against it, my palms flat against the granite. How the fuck am I going to get through serving them? I have had a crush on Genevieve since I watched Wildfire a few years ago. And then when I caught an episode of Supernatural and got a glimpse of Jared, I was in lust, for both of them. 
And now I had to cater to and serve them while being professional and less of a crazy fan. Yea that isn’t going to happen. I know myself too well. I’m going to do or say something that will absolutely humiliate myself in front of the two celebrities I have adored for years. 
Thanks to some tactical breathing exercises while waiting on their food and an internal pep talk, I got through serving the Padalecki family and when they asked for the bill I was a bit saddened that their visit was coming to an end. I knew I’d probably never see them again.
As I printed out their receipt I lamented the fact that the one time I met anyone famous it was at work and I couldn’t ask for an autograph or photo with them. I smiled as I gave them the sales slip and walked away. 
From my post behind the server’s desk I watched as the five of them got up and walked toward the door. Genevieve looked my way and smiled and waved as they left. I returned the gesture and giggled. 
After making sure the coast was clear, I approached their table to collect the payment and take it to the register. What I wasn’t expecting with the cash, was a handwritten note with a phone number on it. 
‘Y/N your service was magnificent. Here’s a little tip for you and a bigger one awaits, if you are interested. (xxx)xxx-xxxx. ~Gen’
Did she really expect me to call her? Was this even her real number? What kind of tip is she referring to anyway? I look at the money in my hand to see that they have paid almost $50 more than their bill! What bigger tip than that could it be?!
I waited until my shift was over and I was in the comfort of my own vehicle before I pulled the piece of paper with the number out of my apron.
Opening the text app with shaky fingers, I typed out the response I had thought of all evening.
Hey. Is this Genevieve Padalecki? It's Y/N from Y/E/E. I was your waitress earlier. 
Almost immediately my phone pings and I see that whomever I texted had responded.
Hey Y/N. Yes, it's me. Glad to see you found my note.
Yea, I did. What I can't figure out is why you left it. Did I do something wrong?
Oh sweetie no! You were the perfect hostess. Sweet, friendly, easy on the eyes ;)
Whoa, was this married woman flirting with me? This famous married woman who had an attractive, sexy, famous as well husband. 
Uh, thanks. 
You caught not only my eye but Jare's as well. We'd like to get to know you better.  Have you already gotten off? From work, I mean. Ha!
Ok, if that isn't flirting then I don't know what is. That was definitely an innuendo, right?
Yes. I'm sitting in my car.
Wanna come over? The kids are in bed. Us adults can talk without interruptions. 
Uh, okay. I'm gonna kinda need your address. I might be a fan but I'm not that kind of fan.
Gen sends me her address, along with the code to get into the gate. I realize they live in the gated community about 45 minutes away. 
I look in the rearview and notice my hair is frizzy and half of it has fallen out of the ponytail it was in. I really didn't want to show up on their doorstep looking like a charity case but then again was I going to pass up the opportunity to get to know two of my favorite celebrities?
If you aren't interested we completely understand.
Gen's message breaks me out of my reverie and I look at it, deciding what the hell.
On my way now. 
We can't wait to see you again Y/N!
I place my phone in the cupholder and start the car up, still in shock that I'm headed to the personal home of Jared and Genevieve Padalecki. 
What universe am I in?!
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I get to their house and Genevieve meets me at the door.
"Hey Y/N," she greets me with a smile. "Did you have any trouble getting in the gate?"
"No, it opened right up as soon as I punched in the code." 
Gen is dressed down for the evening. Well, as dressed down as I'm sure famous rich people can  be. She is wearing velour sweat shorts, probably some name brand designer and her t-shirt has the Family Business Brewery logo and name printed on it. 
And here I look like a slob who can't care for herself. I so do not belong here.
"Come on in," Genevieve continues as she opens the door wide. "Jared is in the kitchen making us ladies some drinks."
"Uh, I don't know. I mean, I still have to drive home later."
"Or you could stay," she says as she takes my hand and stands right in front of me. Genevieve is just a couple inches taller than I am so we are practically face to face. 
"Oh."
That's all I can say. It is glaringly obvious now what this visit is. And if I said I wasn't down for it I'd be lying!
Gen smiles as she takes her free hand and reaches behind me, pulling the tie from my hair. I feel the weight of it fall to my shoulders. 
"That's better," she says then turns and pulls me further into the house.
We get to the kitchen and Jared is standing there, dressed down also in a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. I can't stop myself as my eyes run down the length of his body.
The t-shirt doesn't do much to hide the breath of his shoulders or the bulk of his pecs,  the arms of the fabric stretched tight over his biceps. As my eyes wander lower, I realize that all the rumors I'd heard about the heft and length of his 'conda were not exaggerated as I can definitely see the outline of it behind the silky material of his shorts.  But what really draws my attention is the definition of his calf muscles; even relaxed they distend from his legs, the skin taut over them.
"Hey. You made it," his voice brings my attention back to his face. "I'm Jared."
"I know," I say sincerely, internally wincing at how nervous I sound. I smile to hide the uneasiness.
"Yea, I kinda figured that out at Y/E/E by your reaction," he chuckles as he hands a glass to his wife.  "Gen wanted a margarita but we have some craft beer in the fridge if that is more your taste. It's really good. Our friends, Jensen and Dee, own a brewery."
"Family Business," I state with a nod. "I've wanted to go check it out but haven't had a chance,  yet."
"Well, maybe we can get you a private tour sometime," he tells me with a wink. "Now, name your poison."
I settle for a Cosmic Cowboy, Jared grabs a Grackle for himself and the three of us make our way to the living room.
Their house is magnificent. There are logs, de-barked, as beams across the ceiling and even the staircase is made of the same type of wood. I'd seen it in a family picture on the internet but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd be inside this home to appreciate the beauty of it.
The Padalecki's and I talk for what seems like hours. We all seem to have so much in common. Eventually I had traded the beer for one of Jared's famous margaritas,  thanks to Gen's suggestion and before I knew it I was on my third one and not feeling any pain.
A smile was glued to my face and I couldn't stop giggling. I was drinking with Jared and Genevieve Padalecki! Who would have ever thought that.
Jared takes the almost empty glass from my hand and laughs at the pout I give him.
"Ok lush," he says with his own deep giggle. "If you get too drunk we can't talk about what we invited you here for."
In my inebriated state, I say words I never in a million years thought I would ever utter. "You want to fuck me."
Jared looks surprised and glances at Genevieve, which causes me to look at her as I realize what I just said.
Can you go from intoxicated to sober in less than 5 seconds? Because I just did!
"Oh my god!" I exclaim. "I'm so sorry. I have no filter when I've been drinking."
I start to fidget and prepare to be thrown out of their house. I am taken aback when Gen smiles and says, "Yes we do."
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There is a trail of clothing from the top of the staircase down the hall to where we are now. My body is being held up against the wall as Jared devours my mouth, Gen's lips on my neck and shoulder.
"You are so fucking sexy," she whispers and I whimper into her husband's mouth. "You caught my eye as soon as we walked into Y/E/E this evening. I knew I wanted you and Jared agreed."
"Let's take this into the bedroom," Jared murmurs against my lips and hoists me up by the back of my thighs, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist.
He carries me into the room with Genevieve following closely behind. He lays me back on the bed and hovers over me, his body pressed tightly to mine. I can feel his erection digging into my lower stomach.
"Jared," Gen calls in a sultry, seductive voice. "Share."
Jared pushes up off of me and Gen steps between my open knees. "Let's get these panties off of you," she says and I notice that she has already removed hers plus her bra and is standing at the edge of the bed in all her naked glory.
To say Genevieve Padalecki was beautiful would be an understatement but her nude? Well it just amped up the sexiness by a bajillion. She has no hair on her pussy, shaved (or waxed) clean. Her tits are perfect handfuls with pretty little rosy pink nipples that are erect and hardened. 
She has pulled her soft brown hair up into a makeshift bun and I watch as she reaches forward, her dainty fingers curling into the hem of my plain panties. Thank god I took the time before work to landscape!
She gasps as my equally shaven cunt is exposed as she pulls the garment down my legs and off my feet. 
"Such a pretty little pussy huh Jared?"
Jared comes back into my line of vision and he smiles at me before his eyes trail down to look at my bare body.
"So pretty," he says breathlessly as his hands come up and around his wife, his big hands covering her tits. "Bet it tastes so good. You gonna let Gen eat you out Y/N? Let her taste that sweet box."
I nod and he tsks. "Words Y/N. Use your words little kitten."
I swallow audibly and speak. "Yes. I want Gen to eat my pussy."
Gen smiles as she turns her head and kisses Jared passionately. After a few seconds though he pulls away, and pushes her closer to me. "Get to licking, baby while I open you up."
Gen bends down and I feel her hands on the inside of my thighs close to my center. The first touch of her tongue against my folds has me moaning like a porn star. She doesn't even breach my slit, just licks up the middle and then sucks on my outer lips.  
She moans and I look to see Jared has disappeared, on his knees behind her eating her out as she does the same to me. I can already feel the coil deep inside constricting. This is the most erotic sexual experience I have ever or will ever have!
When Gen does finally lick me open,  she immediately wraps her lips around my clit suckling and flicking the tip with her soft tongue. I feel a finger stroking around my entrance before it enters me. 
"Mmmmm," Gen moans and I open my eyes that I didn't even realize were closed. Jared is back in my line of sight, looking down as he notches his cock at her entrance.
He then places his hands on her hips and drives himself forward, burying inside his wife. Gen moans against my skin and I feel that coil tightening. I don't want to cum just yet so I brace against it, holding my release back.
With Jared's deep hard thrusts Gen's body bounces forward pushing her face closer into my pussy. She trades her finger inside me with her tongue and her thumb is rubbing circles around my clit as she licks my fluttering walls. 
My orgasm is bearing down and I'm beginning to fear I won't be able to hold it back.  
Jared is grunting and groaning behind her,  his eyes fixate on his wife's task of fingering me and licking my clit and labia. 
There is so much pressure between my legs I have to bite my lip to contain the scream that is begging to be released.
"Holy fuck!" Gen exclaims, pulling my attention to her. "Look babe. I have my whole hand inside her."
Jared's eyes travel to the spot and they widen as they take in the view. "Fuck! That is so goddamned hot."
Gen begins a soft thrust with her arm, twisting her wrist and letting her fingers hit my sweet spot. I see stars as I yell out. "I'm gonna cum!"
"Go on Y/N. Cum all over Gen. She wants it."
I let go and the pressure lessens as I feel my walls constrict and liquid squirts out around Gen's hand.
"God that was hot!" They both exclaim simultaneously and laugh.  Gen bends down and begins licking and suckling at my cunt as Jared continues his hard pace.
He slaps her ass twice and then stills,  groaning as I'm sure he is shooting his load inside her. Gen places her forehead on my inner thigh, catching her breath as Jared pulls out and looks down with a smile. 
"Baby you are leaking so much cum it's dripping on the floor."
When Gen moves out of the way, I get my first look at Jared's massive dick. And when I say massive,  I mean massive.  Not only is it ginormous in length but the girth is unbelievable.  How does he keep something that size hidden so well?
His hand is around the still-hard member and he looks at me as he fists up and down. "You ready?"
"Yes," I tell him confidently although inside I am not.
Gen has left the room, gone into their ensuite to clean up I'm sure. "Should we wait?" I ask hesitantly. 
"Nah, she knows I plan to fuck your brains out. She'll rejoin shortly."
“Okay,” I say with a nod and watch as Jared climbs onto the bed, walking on his knees to place himself between my legs. He is still fisting his cock, the mixture of his and his wife’s release lubricating the movement. 
“Can I kiss you?” he asks tentatively and I look up at him. He has one palm on the mattress beside my head and is hovering over me, but not touching.
I nod and then with a quirk of his eyebrow I remember his request, to use words. “Yes. Please kiss me Jared.”
Jared leans down and brushes his lips against mine softly but firmly. When his tongue touches the seam of my mouth, I open for him allowing him to lick into me. The kiss quickly becomes deeper, more passionate. My hands automatically reach up and my fingers entwine in the long locks on his head, pulling him closer.
Losing his balance, Jared falls on top of me, his hand that was holding him up, cupping the side of my face as we both get lost in the kiss. I can feel his moist, damp dick on my stomach and it causes me to writhe. God, I so desperately want that monster inside me!
The bed dips with Gen’s return and her hands run over the part of my skin that is visible under Jared’s large form. 
“You two look so fucking hot together,” she whispers as she kisses along my neck. “Y/N, you going to let Jared fuck you? Feel that big dick of his filling up that perfect little pussy?”
I can’t answer her because Jared is still kissing me senseless so I whimper and dig my fingers into his scalp. Her words are music to my ears, the assurance and suggestion  of what all he is planning to do to me all the encouragement I need. She is okay with me fucking Jared; she is actually urging it. I pull away, opening my eyes to see his hazel ones, lidded and filled with lust. 
“Fuck me Jared,” I say and he smiles as he lifts himself and grabs his dick, notching it at my entrance. 
“Ready baby?”
I nod and smile before saying, “More than ready.”
The stretch of my walls around his dick is a pleasured pain. It feels so good as he keeps sliding deeper in until it feels as if his tip is going to puncture through my cervix. I look down between us to see that he is to the root inside me and it makes me wetter, if that’s even possible. 
Gen pinches my chin between her thumb and fingers and turns my head to look at her. “Y/N, Jared is going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I answer breathlessly. 
Gen claims my lips with her own as Jared slowly and torturously pulls out until just the head of his dick is inside me. I feel his hands grip my hips and then he plunges into me in one swift movement. I can’t help but cry into her mouth as he sits the same fast hard pace as he had with her, his dick stretching my pussy and digging in deep.
I pull away from Gen’s mouth to yell. “HOLY SHIT! OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!”
“Yea, you like that don’t ya?” Jared pants as he keeps thrusting into my willing body. “You like being impaled on my big dick huh?”
“Yes! Yes! YES!”
Gen reaches between us and uses her fingertip to rub circles on my clit, making that coil deep inside me tighten. I am going to be cumming any minute now, I know it. I can’t hold it back even if I tried.
“You going to let Jared fill you up. Pump you full of his cum until you’re leaking like I was? Yea, you are, aren’t you? You want to feel him throbbing and shooting his load into your womb.”
Her words make my eyes roll into the back of my head and I scream as I feel my climax bearing down. Without any more prompting from either of them, I once again feel that pressure from earlier and before I know it I am squirting out around Jared’s dick, my release splashing against his thighs.
“Fuck!” he exclaims as he ramps up his efforts and suddenly I feel the warmth of his cum and the throb of his length as he empties inside me, his grunts and groans barely heard over the blood pumping through my ears. 
Jared claims my mouth again, his cock still buried deep in my pussy as it softens. 
I just fucked this man while his wife watched, after having her way with me. Whose life is this?!
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My eyes slowly open as I come to consciousness. I am hot, sweaty and uncomfortable and the need to pee is overwhelming. I go to roll over but am met with resistance, from both behind and in front of me.  What the hell?
I fully open my eyes and take in the view. That is not my ceiling and this is not my bed. My mattress has never been this soft, even when it was new.  I look down and see the ivory sheets and the maroon comforter and it all comes back to me. 
I fucked Jared AND Genevieve Padalecki! I am in their bed, in their house snuggled up between them.  I had sex with a married couple; not once, not twice but three times they fucked the daylights out of me. And I enjoyed every second of it.
I squirm as I feel something moving inside me, slowly making its way out of my body and sigh when I feel a clump of Jared’s cum slide out and down my ass, landing on the sheet under me. God, he cummed so hard and so much last night, filling both me and Gen up. 
And as good as it felt, it tasted even better. Especially out of Gen’s pussy. I had licked it right up as it poured out of her hole and onto my lips and tongue and she reciprocated before we teamed up and took turns swallowing him down, his palms cupping the back of our heads as we knelt in front of him, licking and sucking his cock.
My bladder takes me out of my reminiscence as the urge to piss becomes palpable and I wiggle and shift until I am out from under Jared’s arm and go to crawl over Gen’s sleeping form, unintentionally waking her.
“Hey sweetie. Where are you going?” she asks sleepily and the torpor in her voice is sexy and sensuous. 
“I gotta pee,” I tell her and she smiles before lifting her head to kiss me. 
“Ok baby. Hurry back.”
I walk into the ensuite and quickly sit on the toilet to do my business, still reeling from the events of last night. How the hell did I end up here? And how am I going to recover from having my dreams come true? How am I supposed to go back to my normal, boring existence after such an experience?
As I finish up and wash my hands, I decide that I’m going to leave while the leaving is good. What if they regret it? What if it wasn’t what they expected? What if I was just a first choice when they decided to have a threesome? Too many what if’s and not enough answers for my taste.
I tiptoe back into their room and grab my panties from the floor, pulling them on when I realize the rest of my clothing is thrown throughout the hallway. Shit! If the kids were up and strolling around the house they would see the waitress from the restaurant in their house half naked. 
“Y/N?” Gen’s voice causes me to turn my head to see her up on one elbow looking at me confused. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
“Y-yea. I think that would be best, don’t you?”
“Hell no. Get your perky little ass back in the bed,” she said authoritatively. “And take off those panties. I want to be able to touch you and caress you.”
I do as she says and she scoots closer to her husband as she pats the mattress in front of her. I climb in beside her and she promptly pulls me to her, her hand cupping my sex as she kisses along my ear. She whispers, “I’m never going to get tired of this pretty little pussy,” as she begins drawing circles on my clit and running her fingers down my folds. "Could eat it everyday and never get enough.”
I whimper at her words and she smiles against my skin. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me eating you out everyday, fucking you with my tongue, my fingers, my fist. Shit, I’m getting wet just thinking about it.” 
Her fingers tease my opening before two of them slide inside, curling up to hit that sweet spot. My back arches off the bed as I moan. “Yea, you like that don’t you. You like me fingering you.” She scissors her digits open and closed as we both groan at the slick that has accumulated. 
“Cum baby,” she urges. “Come on Mama’s hand.”
My climax comes out of nowhere as Gen sits up, propping her body with her free hand as he other works me furiously through my release. I watch her with bated breath as she removes her hand and licks her fingers clean. “Mmm, tasty.”
When she is done, she leans down and kisses me, her tongue prodding into my open lips, letting me taste the sweetness of my tang on it. I run my fingers through her hair, fisting them. 
“Jesus, what a sight to wake up to,” we hear Jared’s groggy voice and pull apart, looking at him. His hazel eyes are sparkling and there is a smug grin on his lips. “I could get used to this.”  Gen turns and kisses him just as passionately as we had just kissed and I hear Jared groan, knowing he is tasting the remnants of my release. 
Ok, so maybe this wasn’t something they regretted. This was what they both wanted and still want and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it too. Maybe I had been the first opportunity they’d come across when they decided to have a threesome but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I would gladly take whatever they wanted to give. 
And from the sounds and sights coming from the bed beside me, I was about to have another out of this world sexual escapade with two of the hottest people on the planet. 
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I’m sitting in the kitchen at the bar in my panties and a t-shirt Gen gave me drinking a cup of coffee and watching Jared move about the kitchen, cooking eggs and making toast.
A pair of slender arms wrap around me from behind, startling me. “Morning baby,” Gen purrs as she kisses my shoulder.
I tense up afraid of getting caught if one of their kids walk in. “Uh, where’re the kids?”
“It’s Wednesday. They always have a playdate with the Ackles kids on Wednesday,” Gen says as she comes around and sits beside me. “We’re good. Francine took them over and will bring them back this afternoon.”
“Oh. Okay,” I say hesitantly. I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry about being found out but I’m also nervous because the three of us are alone in the house. What exactly did they have planned? 
“It’s okay sweetheart,” Jared says as he sits two plates of eggs, toast and jam in front of his wife and myself. “We all need to talk anyway. And the kids do not need to hear what we have to discuss.”
Well, there goes my good feeling down the drain. Now is when they are going to drop the bomb; tell me that it was all fun and games but they’ve satisfied their curiosity and I’m on my own. God, how can I be so dumb. What made me think that two celebrities would want me to stick around?
I push the food around on my plate as I try to come up with a way to take the blow and leave with my head held high.
“Jared Tristan,” Gen admonishes. “Look what you’ve done. You went and made her feel bad. Honey,” she says as she places a hand on mine. “It’s not bad; what we want to talk about. I promise.” She leans over and places a chaste kiss to my lips. “Now eat up so we can get to it. I think you might need your energy if I’m reading this situation correctly.”
I try my best to eat as much of the food as I can with my stomach still in knots and my anxiety level through the roof. Gen clears her plate and then looks at me, silently asking if I’m finished. I nod and clear my throat. “Yes, thank you.”  
Jared grabs my hand and pulls me off the stool, dragging me toward the living room once again. Last night, this is the same exact place that they propositioned me and invited me into their bed. Now, here we are again, apparently discussing something new.
I wait with bated breath as Gen makes her way into the room, carrying her and my coffee cups, sitting mine on the table in front of me.
“First off,” she begins as she turns to look at me, one leg under her bottom. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Wh-what?” I ask in shock. Was she actually asking if I enjoyed having sex with them?
“Did you have a good time? With us?”
“Duh,” I answer cringing at my snarkiness. “Yes, I enjoyed it and I had an amazing time. And I understand if this was a one-off; something you wanted out of your systems. I get it. And I promise not to speak a word of it to anyone.”
Jared chuckles and Gen throws her head back, laughing. “Oh honey. I don’t care about that. Hell, scream it from the rooftops for all I care. We want to know if you’d like to continue.”
To say I am floored is an understatement. They are actually asking if I want to keep having sex with them? Have I died and gone to Heaven?
“Really?” I gasp. I never in a million years would have ever thought this was what we needed to discuss.
“Yes, really,” Jared tells me from the armchair. “We understand if it is too much. We, uh-” he pauses to rub the back of his neck and chuckle. “-got a little enthusiastic last night. It’s usually not that acrobatic. But yea, we want to know if you want to keep this going.”
I nod as my brows furrow and I look down at my hands, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of Gen’s shirt. How can I answer without sounding too enthusiastic or overly eager?
“Sweetie?” Gen asks, leaning down to look into my eyes. “Are you okay? Is it too much?” 
The worry in her voice is what gets me. Is she actually afraid I am going to turn them down? But I have to know something first.
“Can I ask a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why me? I mean, was I just the first girl you came across once you decided to have a threesome?”
Gen and Jared both chuckle. “No baby,” Gen assures me. “This isn’t our first time doing this. We’ve had threesomes before. We, uh- should we tell her Jare?”
“She’ll find out eventually,” he answers his wife. “Go on.”
“We had a relationship with Jared’s co-star Jensen for a few months. It went really well but then we decided to end it, amicably before we all got married. He was dating Danneel but she was living in LA while he was up in Vancouver with us. And well, we fucked. Not Jare and Jen, they just uh, shared me. Although they did get close to kissing once in a competition to see who could get me off first by eating me out simultaneously.” She ends with a laugh and I look over to see Jared blushing.
“Now, that...that cannot and should not be repeated,” he says, clearing his throat. “We just got too close and our tongues touched that’s all.” He explained my unanswered inquiry.
“So, this isn’t your first time having a threesome with another guy?” I ask. “But is it a first with another girl?”
“Yes,” they both answer resolutely. “You are our first female conquest.” Gen finishes before she laces her fingers with mine. “When I saw you yesterday at Y/E/E, I liked you immediately. Even though I could tell you knew who we were you kept it professional and when I asked Jared what he thought about you, I could tell by the way he looked at you he wanted you. We both did. That’s why I left my number. Figured it’d be safer to leave mine than his in case someone else found the note.”
“It’s in my car,” I smiled at her. “I wasn’t about to throw it away.”
“See, you knew. You might have not realized you knew, but you knew me leaving you my number was a big risk.”
“So?” Jared asks as both Gen and I turn to look at him. “Is this something you can see continuing?”
“Absolutely!” I answer confidently and certain. “I will be the third wheel for you guys.”
“Oh honey, in this relationship, we are all equals,” Gen says as she smoothes her hand over my hair. “Now, let’s talk about the rules.”
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The 'rules' as I soon discover aren't really rules at all. Mostly we discuss what kind of things are turn-ons and what are turn-offs. 
I find out that Gen loves oral, receiving and giving,  whether it be male or female. She requests to be called Mama in the bedroom and is unopposed to anal play.
Jared's turn-ons include oral as well, he loves to maintain dominance over his lovers and inquired as to whether I am opposed to that aspect. I tell him an unwaveringly no. I will submit and comply with his control. 
When asked what I prefer, I shrug my shoulders. I'd never given it much thought. Sure, I'd had partners before; I wasn't a virgin by any means but to actually sit and think and come up with stuff I liked and didn't like was new to me. 
"Okay," Gen says, aware of my discomfort. "Well, we know you like oral, both giving and receiving it. And you like fucking, we are very well aware of that." She continues with a smile. "Are there any positions you're more fond of than others?"
"Uh, I like doggy style," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. Good god, I've had sex with these people and I'm getting embarrassed!
"Hey now. None of that," Gen coos. "This is a judgment free zone."
I nod, feeling more confident. "I like it when, uh...when you pulled my hair while I was eating you out. And," I turn to look at Jared. "I liked when you spanked her while fucking into her. That was hot, but not like you know,  hard or a lot of smacks but...yea."
He smiles at me and nods. "Good to know kitten."
"Anything else?" Gen presses.
"Uh, nothing I can think of right now. No, but permission to revisit this if I do think of something?"
"Of course sweetie."
"One last thing," Jared announces and I turn to look at him. "Move in with us?"
When the kids come in later with their nanny, they stop in their tracks when they see me sitting on the couch with their parents, platonically of course.
The two older ones, Tom and Shep,  recognize me and ask their mom why the lady from the restaurant is here while the little girl, Odette, climbs onto Jared's lap and burrows into his chest, peeking out and glancing at me.
"This is our friend. Her name is Y/N and she's going to be staying with us," Gen eases the information to the boys. 
The middle child, Shep, is the first one to speak. "Does she like dinosaurs?"
Gen looks at me with joy and laughter in her eyes. I smile and tell Shep, "Dinosaurs are magnificent! My favorite is the pterodactyl.  What's yours?"
The discussion between the boys and I quickly turns to which dinosaur would win if they were all in a battle to which dinosaur could survive if they were to come back alive and be in the world as it is today.
Odette finally warms up and makes her way to my side,  telling me that Mommy dinosaurs have to wear makeup while Daddy dinosaurs go to work.
I had been terrified of how the kids would accept the fact that I was going to be living with them but I had nothing to worry about. 
Kids are resilient though. They can adapt and adjust to just about anything. The three Padalecki kids have no problem knowing there is a new person living in their home but I also know the real talk is going to come after dinner and after Francine leaves for the evening.
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Gen and I work together that night, getting the dinner dishes cleaned off and stacked in the dishwasher. Every so often, Gen would glance around and then pull me into a kiss, keeping it mostly innocent and chaste. The only thing not innocent is when her hands would roam and grab a boob or my ass or one time she ran her hand down my crotch, pressing on my clit. 
Once the kitchen is cleared, the two of us join Jared and the kids in their playroom where we decide to tell them what is actually going on.
Tom and Shep were sitting on the floor playing with toy cars, making engine noises while Odette sat on her dad's lap, coloring. 
"Guys," Gen speaks, getting the boys' attention. "Can you come over here for a moment. Family meeting."
Tom and Shep get up and walk to the table and stand, looking between the three adults in the room.
"Okay, you know how we have taught you all that honesty is always best? And that lying will only get you into more trouble?"
"Yes ma'am," they say in unison.
"Okay. Well your dad and I are going to be honest with you. Y/N is not only our friend, she is our girlfriend. We like her like we like each other; like Unkie Jensen likes Auntie D. And she likes us.
"You will see us-both of us- hug Y/N and kiss her just like we do each other. If you have a bad dream at night and come to our room she is going to be in bed with us. But we will always, always make room for you.  You three are our littlest loves and there isn't anything in this world we wouldn't do for you.
"Also, Y/N is the boss as much as your dad and I are so whatever she says goes. If she tells you it's time for bed you don't try to haggle your way out of it. If she tells you you've had enough candy, you listen. She is the adult, you are not. You understand?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Okay. Do you have any questions?"
They shake their heads no and Gen smiles as she reaches out to ruffle Shep's hair and then Tom's.
"You can go play for another hour and then it's time for baths and bed."
The boys go back to their spots and continue their game.
"Well that went better than I was expecting," I say with a laugh.
"Our boys are smart," Jared says with an air of pride. 
Odette looks up at him with a scoff, which causes both Gen and I to laugh.
"You're smart too lil O," he tells her before placing a kiss on her temple. 
When it's time for baths, Tom asks that I help him so I follow him to his room where he picks out a set of pajamas and underwear. We walk down the hall to the bath and he undresses as I begin filling the tub.
"Y/N?" Tom says as he washes his hair. 
"Yea?"
"Do you love us?"
"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even. This was not a question I was expecting from a 7 year old.
"Mommy said that you like them like they like each other. And I know mommy and daddy love each other and they love us just like Unkie Jen loves Auntie D and JJ and Arry and Zeppy. So do you love us too?"
I'm not sure how to answer his inquiry. Do I love him and his siblings? Sure, what's not to love about three of the best behaved kids I have ever encountered. 
They took their Mom's news in stride, like it was no big deal that both their parents had a girlfriend, like it was normal.
"Yes, Tom. I love you and Shep and lil O. How could I not? You three are awesome," I laugh trying to break the tension. "Plus we can talk about dinosaurs without people giving us weird looks."
"Do you love Mommy and Daddy too?"
Well, there it is. The one question I was hoping to avoid because I didn't have an answer.  I don't know the answer.
Do I love Jared and Genevieve? I know I've lusted after them both for years and the three of us have had the most remarkable, memorable sex of my existence, but love? Wasn't it too soon?
"I think it is time to finish your bath before you turn wrinkly like a raisin," I tell him instead. 
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It is only a few weeks later that those three words are shared between us. 
As we are readying for bed, Gen and I doing a skincare routine in front of the bathroom mirror Jared waltz in and lifts the toilet seat, not caring to relieve himself while we are in the room.
After he finishes and he rights himself, he wiggles between us to wash his hands. We both laugh at his antics and while drying his hands he kisses Gen,  telling her he loves her  and then turns to kiss me.
"I love you too," he whispers against my lips and my eyes widen at his proclamation.
The whole world stills, the Earth quits spinning and the air stops flowing as he presses his lips to mine again.
"Y/N?" Gen calls to me and everything begins moving again. "Are you okay sweetie?"
"Uh." That's the only thing I can utter. Jared just told me he loves me.  He just dropped those three precious words like it was nothing. 
"Do you not love me? Us?" Jared asks as he pulls away and looks down at me. 
My eyes well up with tears and I can't stop my body shaking if I wanted to. 
"Yes," I answer with a laugh. "I love you so much!"
Jared wraps me up in a kiss again, deepening it as he bends me backwards.  We pull away with smiles.  
"I love you. I love you. I love you," I say repeatedly.
"I love you Y/N," Gen proclaims as she pulls me into a hug before kissing me senseless.
That night we don't fuck. The three of us make love to one another, proclaiming our love and devotion to one another over and over until we each find our climaxes together, as one. 
On Friday we decide it is time to visit the Family Business Brewery to stock up on some more beer since the supply at home is getting low.
I'm nervous as hell as today I get to meet Jared and Gen's best friends and former lover. Jensen and Daneel and the kids have been away, up in the north visiting family and now they are back and the plan is to hang out at FBB to let the kids play on their playground. 
The Ackles know that Jared and Gen have someone they want them to meet but as I find out on the way there,  they have no idea just what I am to the Padalecki's. They just think it's a new friend.
As we pull up, the parking lot is half-full with vehicles and people milling about ready to go inside and sample some the craft beer that is brewed onsite.
I look toward the building and immediately can make out Jensen's silhouette. Probably because of the crowd that has amassed around him. Being one of the main characters on the country's hit sci-fi show and part owner of this place drew a bigger crowd to the brewery than the alcohol did apparently. 
I notice that over half of the guests have some type of Supernatural paraphernalia,  be it a t-shirt, a purse, or just a photo or something they hoped to get autographed.
The crowd finally disperses and Jensen finally makes his way to us, a smile on his face and a beer glass in his hand. 
"Hey guys. Glad you could make it. Dee is inside helping Gino run the bar since we are down a person," he explains and then his eyes narrow in on me. "Hello. I'm Jensen."
"Y/N," I say with a nod.
"Jay, this is our girlfriend." Gen tells him and I watch for his reaction. He is one hell of an actor because other than a quick widening of his green eyes, he fixes his face into one of nonchalance. 
"So, you're still…..doing that?" he asks lowly before taking a drink of his beer.
"We hadn't for a while," Jared speaks up. "Since you but yea, we now share a girlfriend."
"Nice," Jensen smiles but I can tell it's not a happy-for-you one; it's more forced, more strained.
Daneel finally comes out to join us and Gen introduces me much the same way she announced me to Jensen. 
"Oh wow!" Daneel exclaims.  "I, uh, didn't know you two were into that sort of thing."
So apparently she had no idea that a few years ago, Jensen had been in my position.  Good to know as now I can be  more aware of what to say and what to keep to myself.
The day is nice in the grove where the brewery is located. The heat from the sun is abated by the gentle breeze that flows through the trees. 
Jared and Jensen, and sometimes Gen get pulled away a few times by excited fans asking for pictures of just to chat, leaving Daneel and I watching the kids.
I can tell she is dying to ask questions so once there is no one close by, I turn to her and tell her. "You can ask."
"Oh thank god! It's been killing me. How does it work? Do you all sleep together? Have sex together?"
I smile at her questions. And with living with the Padalecki's I have come to also believe the truth is better than lying philosophy.
"We love one another and we work together raising the three most amazing kids I've ever met. Well, until now; the Ackles kids are pretty fantastic." I pause to smile at her. "Yes, we share a bed each night. Sometimes I'm in the middle, sometimes Gen. It just depends on who needs the assurance and safety net the most. 
"And yes we have sex together. As with the sleeping arrangement, we take turns on who is between the other two. Sometimes Jared fucks Gen while she eats me out and sometimes I eat her out while being whaled on by the big moose."
Daneel throws her hands up and shakes her head. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry I asked. That was a visual I did not need. And now it's stuck in my head."
She storms off and I can't help but laugh at her reaction. I mean, she asked after all. I just hope I didn't ruin her friendship with my lovers. 
Later that night, when I tell Jared and Gen about it they laugh and assure me that it's nothing Daneel won't get over; that she just probably will never ask me anything ever again. 
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Over the next few months, I learn just how close the Padalecki's and the Ackles' are as we tend to spend every holiday together and attend each other's kid's birthday parties.
Daneel continues to be cordial to me but doesn't inquire any further into my relationship with Gen and Jared. 
That may also be because after paparazzi got a photo of Gen and I at the store holding hands and ran with the story that Gen and Jared were obviously on the splits, the three of us sat down to an interview with People magazine and told the world that the Padalecki's marriage and relationship was still going strong and made it known that they were also in a relationship with me.
After that, the buzz of it all settled down and everything went back to semi-normal. There would be some gossip on the internet about us or we'd received unmarked mail containing threats of damnation but, with the help of my girlfriend and boyfriend, I learned to let it all slide.
People would always have their opinions. I just had to get used to them being different than my own. The world wasn't going to stop turning just because I was in a relationship with a married couple. 
A year to the day that Jared and Gen had entered my life when they visited Y/E/E found us all in the kitchen; Jared and Gen sitting at the counter while I cooked us an anniversary dinner.
"Can you believe it's been a year?" Gen says as I pull the roasted chicken from the oven. "One year since we decided to go out to eat and run into the most beautiful human we've ever seen."
"A year since you left your number on a piece of paper before we left and waited patiently for her to call," Jared continues. "One whole year of the most magnificent mind-blowing sex of my life!"
"A year since I thought you leaving your number was a prank or a mistake but texted it anyway. A year of….hell, the best year of my existence, " I tell them as I plate up the chicken, pasta and asparagus before turning and placing their plates in front of them.
"I love you both so much."
"We love you equally," Gen says before we set about eating the dinner I cooked. 
The kids were staying over at the Ackles' so we had the house to ourselves.
Jared cleared the kitchen after dinner and dessert while Gen and I went up to the bedroom to get ready in our matching lingerie that we purchased special for the occasion. 
"Jared is going to flip when he sees us," Gen says as she comes up behind me in the mirror. "Fuck, are we lucky. Sweetie you are absolutely gorgeous.  I can't wait to pull this off of you," she says kisses my shoulder, grazing her teeth across my skin. "With my teeth."
I shudder at the thought and reach back tangling my hand in her hair, kissing her passionately. 
"Same goes for you darling," I tell her as we hear Jared coming up the stairs.
Gen and I rush to get on the bed, laying back in nothing but lace and silk waiting for Jared to enter the bedroom.
"Fuck. Me!" he exclaims as he walks in and sees us. "God damn, baby girls, you're going to give this ole man a heart attack," he says, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. 
As we both promised, we put a show on for Jared; disrobing one another with nothing but our teeth and lips. 
Gen finally squirts after I bury my face in her sweet cunt, licking all around with my fingers knuckle deep inside her. Her breathing is labored as I pull away, leaving my fingers wiggling inside and turn my head to kiss Jared.
He groans as the tang of her juices mixed with my taste floods his mouth and I begin fingering Gen again, feeling her walls fluttering and quivering around them. 
"You like that Mama?" I ask as I pull away from my boyfriend. "You want more? I can recreate our first night."
"Fuck yes!" Gen screams. "Fist me baby."
I curl my fingers down and work my closed fist into her sopping wet pussy easily, twisting my wrist as she writhes above me. I lean down and suck her clit between my lips, flicking the nub with my tongue. 
"Shit! I'm going to cum again," she pants and I take my fingers and press against her sweet spot. Her thighs clamp around my head as she climaxes. 
Jared walks around behind me and I feel the swath of his tongue lick from my clit to my entrance and up to my ass. It isn't the first time he's ate me like that and it is erotic and obscene and I love it.
When Jared's tip notches at my opening, I wiggle my hips and he slaps his palm down on my asscheek. I moan as I lay my forehead against Gen's leg. Jared spanks me once more before he slams into me, burying his whole length in one thrust. 
"Oh fuck! Yes!" I yell out as he begins a pounding pace. His hands gripping my hips tight enough to leave bruises.
Gen finally recuperates enough to join in, kissing me senseless and whispering not-so-sweet nothings in my ear.
"Jared is fucking you real good ain't he? You're taking all that cock. You gonna let him put a baby in you? Yea you are, aren't ya? Get all big and round with a Padalecki growing in you. You want that? You want Jared to cum deep inside and impregnate you?"
"Uh huh," is all I can muster as Jared keeps pounding into me from behind, his balls bouncing up to slap my clit.
"Jared, put a baby in our baby girl. Fill her little pussy up."
"Yes Daddy. Please," I say, finally getting my voice.  "Please daddy put your baby in me."
"Oh god. Yea, I can do that. I can definitely do that."
"Mama?" I call out to Gen who lays down to meet my eyes.  "Are you sure? This is what you want?"
"Yes baby. I want to watch you grow our baby inside you. I love you sweet girl. And I know you'll be the best mom, you already are to Tom, Shep and O."
She smiles before capturing my lips with hers, wrapping her hand in my hair and tugging, making me whimper and whine.
Jared stills behind me as I feel his dick throbbing and spurting, filling me with his cum and hopefully getting me pregnant. It seems to go on and on before he finally slumps and pulls out of me, only to prod his softened dick back inside and thrusts, making sure the release goes where it needs.
If we made a baby together tonight or not,  I know these two beautiful people, my lovers, will be here with me through the celebration or if need be, the act of trying until we succeed. 
Six weeks later, I find myself peeing on a stick. I haven't told anyone but my period is about 8 days late and I've always been regular. 
I wait for the timer to go off on my phone, staring at the test laying facedown on the sink. Am I pregnant? Am I just late? But then if that's the case, why am I late? 
The device dings and I hesitantly reach for the test, turning it over to find out the result.
As I walk down the stairs, I hear my family in the front room laughing and just being goofy, none of them aware of what I hold in my hand. The small thin piece of plastic that is going to change everything. 
I stand at the doorway and just watch the five of them. I love them all so much and am grateful that they are now a part of my life. The kids accepted me and made me feel welcomed and loved from the very beginning and now they sometimes call me Mommy Y/N. It warms my soul when they utter those words. 
Jared and Genevieve. I never thought I could find a love like I have with them. It is an all-consuming love. They are so kind, caring and generous. The three of us are in love and we are about to bring another life into the mix. 
“Hey guys,” I call out getting their attention. Shep runs and wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head on my stomach, like he knows his new little brother or sister is growing inside me. But that can’t be, I haven’t said a word to anyone much less the kids.
I ruffle his hair and he looks up at me with a smile. “Why don’t you go sit on the sofa with your parents?” I request. “I have something to tell you all.”
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“We’re having a baby,” I announce, not wanting to drag this out. I am happy, ecstatic even and I am hoping, ok I’m pretty sure this news will be accepted with joy. 
“What?” Gen exclaims, a smile blossoming on her face. “Really?”
“Yea,” I answer as I hold up the pregnancy test with the two bold blue lines. “I’m pregnant.”
Gen gently lifts O off her lap and jumps up, rushing to hug me and pulling me into a kiss. We’ve never hidden our relationship from the kids so to see their Mom and I kissing is no big deal to them.
When she pulls away, Gen looks at me with tears in her eyes. "We're having a baby?"
"Yea we are," I tell her, my own tears making themselves known. 
Suddenly Jared is pulling us both into his chest, his long strong arms holding us close.
"Where's the baby?" O asks as she looks around and in the floor. "I wann' see it."
We laugh as we break apart, going to join them on the sofa. 
I pull O onto my lap while Gen holds Shep and Tom is propped on his Dad's knee.
"The baby isn't born yet," I explain to my daughter. "He or she has to get big enough before it can come live with us. Right now, it's just a tiny little bean."
"I wann' see it," she repeats and I chuckle as I maneuver her around to straddle my thighs. I lift my shirt, exposing my stomach and take her hand to place under my belly button. "The baby is in here,  nice and warm and growing.”
Lil O’s eyebrows fuse together as she stares at the place her hand is and then she says, “Can I play with her when she gets here?”
I laugh and hear Gen and Jared chuckle.
“Of course you can sweetie,” I tell her. “But maybe not when she first gets here, she’ll be itty bitty.”
“She?” Jared says and I look at him. He practically has stars in his eyes with glee. 
“Well O called it a she so I just ran with it. Who knows, it could be a boy,” I say with a shrug. 
“I want a tyrannasaurus,” Shep declares. 
“Geez buddy,” I laugh as I look down at him. “You want me to explode? The baby is in my belly and you want it to be a dinosaur?”
“No, I wasn’t thinking about that,” Shep says, his voice remorseful.
“Hey Sheppy? It’s okay. I was just joking with you.”
“Okay,” he says as he reaches over and puts his hand on my stomach beside his sister’s. 
Before I know it I have three little palms against my skin, along with a slightly bigger one and a huge one over top of all of them; my family silently welcoming and loving on the new addition.
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By the time Tom’s birthday comes around, I am huge! Gen had warned me that Padalecki’s were big babies but this is outrageous. I can't see my feet at all and need help to get out of bed every morning. This little one is making my life miserable but I know in the end, it will all be worth it.
We had decided against finding out the gender, mainly because I was still leery about how correct those results could be. So the five of us have begun referring to the bump as Baby P. And right now Baby P was kicking my kidneys and punching my liver. 
I still have almost a month before my due date of April 11 and it seems as if time is slowing down. Every day is a hurdle to get through, with being 8 months pregnant and still trying to help out around the house and do my chores, though both Gen and Jared have fussed at me for doing too much. But I’m pregnant, not disabled.
We’ve planned a barbeque party for Tom’s birthday and invited most of his friends from school, plus the Ackles and the Morgan’s and a few others from Jared’s time on the show. Both sets of grandparents are going to be here also, so it would definitely be a full house.
I am upstairs in the bedroom, trying to slide my sandals on but having trouble since I can’t see anything. Jared walks in while I huff and try again, only to push the shoe farther away.
“Hey baby,” he says gently. “Let me help you.”
“This is ridiculous,” I whine as he lifts my leg and slides the leather onto my foot. “I can’t do anything but waddle around, running into things and just getting in the way. I’m an annoyance to everyone. Maybe I should just stay up here.”
“You hush that right now,” he admonishes me, standing up to tower over me.  “You do not annoy anyone. You do not get in the way at all. You are pregnant, carrying my baby. You’re beautiful, baby girl. I love watching you, knowing that’s my child inside you; a life we created out of our love.” He tugs a stray hair behind my ear and tilts my chin up. “I love you. Gen loves you. Tom, Shep and O love you. We all love you and we love this baby. So get over yourself and get that cute little ass downstairs to celebrate our son’s birthday.”
“Cute and little is not how I would refer to my ass,” I retort with a smile. “I look like a Kardashian.”
“Mmhmm,” Jared mumbles as he leans down to kiss me. “More to spank.”
I chuckle as I tiptoe to kiss him and then turn to head downstairs to join my family and greet our guests.
The party is in full swing as most of the adults sit in lounge chairs, talking and catching up while Jared and Jensen man the grill and the ladies are in the kitchen gathering up the condiments and sides.
I have been commanded to stay in my seat and ask for anything I need. Jared went as far as to tell me if he saw me on my feet, he would spank me in front of everyone. And as much as I love him spanking me, that was something that no one else needed to see so I kept my promise, only asking that he give me a bottle of water for my stay.
Everyone seems to be having a good time; the kids are enjoying the gigantic bounce house that we rented and sat up in the backyard, the adults congregate on the patio talking and laughing and waiting for food.
I look around with a blissful heart at the family and friends I have acquired since becoming Jared and Gen’s lover. No one seems to bat an eye anymore about our relationship and took it at face value and that made me very happy. Sure, there were a few things still being said on the internet but those people don’t matter to me. What matters to me is the ones here today, celebrating our son’s birthday. 
A pain shoots through my body but as soon as it appears, it disappears so I think nothing of it and go back to watching Tom, Shep, JJ, and a few of their friends from school run around the yard playing tag. It’s a good day.
That good day turns when later that evening while the ones of us that are still lounging around, mostly family, my water breaks. Gerald and Sherri, Jared’s parents, stay at the house with the kids as Gen, Jared and I rush to the hospital.
In the early morning hours of March 18, we welcome Delaney Grace Padalecki, a whopping 9 pound 12 ounce baby girl. 
I thought I knew what love was, what love is but until I looked into my daughter’s eyes, I had had no idea. 
Love is infinite. Love is encompassing. Love is the glue that cements us all together. And I have found that with Gen and Jared and their-our-kids and now with Delaney. There is no way my life could be any richer. A once in a lifetime encounter gave me love and a family. 
THE END
@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @atc74​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @hoboal87​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​
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bumblebee-moreno · 3 years
Text
Awkward meetings (GN!reader)
Request: "Awkward first meeting for all the boys" and "Awkward first meeting and You lost something very important to you and they’re helping you look for it with Frankie Morales" for @luminescentlily
(Boys included are: Din, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales, Max Phillips, Marcus P, and Marcus M.
Warnings: None?
A/N: Sorry this took so long to write. I had to leave a few boys out due to writer's block (Ezra, Tovar, and Zach Wellison), and I wanted to get this posted rather than continuing to stare at the screen in hopes of my brain miraculously functioning. To make up for my lack of inspiration at least a little bit, I added Marcus Moreno. Hope that's ok :)
Din Djarin
You feel a tug at your pant leg. Looking down, you are greeted by a pair of large watery eyes and big green ears. “Well hello there,” you smile, crouching down to be closer to the small child. “Where’s your family?”
He simply responds by lifting his arms towards you. You take that to mean he’d like to be lifted up. Scanning through over the crowded marketplace, you search for someone who the kid might belong to. You really have no idea what you’re looking for, having never seen anything like him, but you search nonetheless.
“Hey!” an angry voice calls out behind you. You whirl around, and before you know what’s happening, the child has been torn from your grasp and there’s a blaster to your head.
“I wasn’t going to hurt him I swear, I was just trying to find his family,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender.
The figure in front of you doesn’t respond at first, keeping his blaster pointed at you while he inspects the child for injury.
“Why did you have him?” The voice from under the helmet demands.
“I just found him by himself and I wanted to make sure he found his family,” you explain, voice shaking. “Are you his… Does he belong to you?”
“… yes.” He cautiously returns his blaster to its holster.
“I’m sorry,” you relax. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s just so… small. I didn’t want him to stay lost.”
The Mandalorian clutches the kid close to his chest as if he’s afraid they’ll be separated again. “Thank you.” He nods his head just enough for you to see the motion.
Javier Peña
“Shit, I’m going to be so fucking late,” you mutter to yourself, walking as fast as you can without sending the tall stack of papers in your arms flying.
On your way down the hall, you start going down your mental checklist.
‘Closed the window so the cat doesn’t escape? Check.’
‘Turned off the lights? Check.’
‘Locked the front door? Fuck.’
You stop in your tracks. How could you forget to lock your front door? You spin on your heel and run back towards your apartment, your one free hand switching between searching for your keys and adjusting the unstable tower balanced on your other arm.
In your haste to get your apartment locked so you can get to work on time, you fail to watch where you’re going.
Your body smacks into another. You fall backwards, losing your grip on the meticulously organised files. They scatter across the floor, completely losing the order you’d spent all night putting them in. The wind is knocked out of you for just long enough to hear the man you ran into grumping about how you should watch where you’re going.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m running late, I should’ve been paying more attention.” You pull yourself to your knees and start gathering your work off the floor. You’d normally stand and make sure the man you ran into is okay, but things at work are tense as it is, and being even later than you already are isn’t going to reflect well on you. Especially now that all of last night’s hard work needs to be done over.
You expect him to get up and walk past you. After his reaction to being practically tackled, you wouldn’t expect him to give you more than a second thought. But then a stack of papers lands on top of the one you’re already holding.
Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “You okay? You hit the ground kind of hard there,” Your neighbour asks.
You swallow thickly. “y-yeah, I’m fine,” you give a shaky smile. “How about you?”
“I’m all right, just running a bit late,” He offers a hasty smile before helping you to your feet. “I gotta get to work, but um, I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, momentarily forgetting how late you are.
Agent Whiskey
‘Ugh I really needed this day off,’ you type underneath the photo before pressing send.
You place your phone on the edge of the tub before relaxing back into the warm water.
It isn’t long before your phone buzzes. Your eyes widen in horror at the response:
‘I think you’ve got the wrong number, darlin’.’ It’s paired with a photo of a man you’ve never met.
He is kinda cute though. You’d never think the whole “unironically cowboy” thing could ever work but… No. No. You can’t be thinking that kind of stuff. You just texted a stranger a photo of you in the bath for fuck’s sakes, you can’t be attracted to him after that!
You frantically scroll up to examine the photo you sent, breathing a sigh of relief when you confirm that the photo you sent didn’t have anything too revealing in it; between the angle of the camera and the bubbles in your bath, nothing too embarrassing is visible.
‘Shit, I’m so sorry, that was meant for a friend ’
You pick up the shred of paper your best friend scribbled their new number on while you were at lunch with them yesterday, to figure out what happened.
‘not a problem, It’s a nice distraction from this god awful meeting I’m stuck in’
You frown. ‘You’re in a meeting and you’re texting a total stranger?’
You return your gaze to the phone number in your hand. “what in the fuck,” you say aloud to yourself. The second to last digit. It’s supposed to be a 4. Not a 9.
A shaky photo appears on your phone. It’s obviously taken from peeking just the camera of his phone over the edge of the table.
‘Damn, that looks like a serious meeting, shouldn’t you be paying attention?’ If you were texting at work, especially in a meeting, you’d have your ass handed to you unless someone was dying (and even then, it would depend on what kind of mood your boss is in that day). And this guy is just casually texting you, a stranger, during a meeting with people who look like they make more money weekly than what your whole car is worth.
‘I’m a bit more concerned that I don’t even know the name of the person who texted me such a lovely photo 😉’
‘It’s Y/N.’ you send. ‘And please delete that picture, that’s kinda private’ you ask, crossing your fingers that he respects that.
‘Already done. Mine’s Jack, since you obviously weren’t going to ask 🤠’
A soft smile appears on your face. Maybe it is kind of okay that you accidentally typed in the wrong number. Or… it will be after you (lovingly) cuss out your friend for having such bad handwriting.
Frankie Morales
“Shit.” You mutter to yourself, searching through your pockets. “shitshitshitshitshitshitshit” You swear you just had them. Or… maybe you left them on the counter back at the library?
You turn around to run back, rifling through your bag. You only make it a few steps before you’re knocked backwards to the ground.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurt the moment you catch your breath again. Barely sparing a glance towards the man you ran into, you start gathering your books.
“No, no. I’m sorry,” the man insists. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He helps to gather your books.
“You okay?” he finally asks.
You look up at him and freeze. He’s really cute. In the ‘I give the best hugs in the world’ kind of way.
“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. “I just think I lost my car keys at the library, and I’m running late for lunch with a friend.” You mentally kick yourself. You just ran over the only attractive man you’ve seen since moving here, and then the first thing you do is overshare?
“Oh, did you want some help looking?” he immediately offers.
“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “I’ve got lunch plans I’m desperately trying to find an excuse to get out of, so you’re helping me, really.”
“Okay, um… sure,” you nod. “an extra set of eyes looking wouldn’t hurt.”
“Cool. I’m Frankie.”
You introduce yourself and shake his outstretched hand.
The two of you make your way back towards the library.
“so…” you break the uncomfortable silence. “Lousy lunch plans, huh?”
“…yeah,” Frankie falls silent for a moment. “A couple of guys I used to serve with invited me out and I didn’t really have an excuse to say no.”
“Don’t get along with them?”
“We used to be friends, but I’m kind of rethinking that lately.”
“Oh,” you debate asking more questions. But then again, he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to, right? “Did… did something happen?”
“Convinced me to go to South America a while back, which would’ve been fine, except we kind of got stuck there, and my wife was left alone with the baby.”
Your stomach dropped at this. You’re not even sure why; you just met the guy, you really have no reason to be disappointed he’s taken.
“Was she at least understanding?” You ask.
“huh?”
“Your wife.”
“Oh,” Frankie chew his lip for a moment. “no. When I got back, she was… possessive. Searching my phone, never letting me go out with friends, that kind of stuff. Separated a few months later.”
“Oh,” you try to ignore the fact that your heart skipped a beat; you can’t be excited—that’s insensitive. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be.” Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, actually. I was helping you find your keys, and here I am ranting about my whole tragic backstory as if you actually cared.”
“I don’t mind.” You actually like listening to him. But you keep that to yourself.
“You shouldn’t have to listen to all that though—”
“Shit!” you interrupt him. “I’m such an idiot.”
“What? What’s wrong?” Frankie looks like he’s assuming the worst.
“…I didn’t lose my car keys. I walked here. And lunch with my friend is next week.” You chuckle bitterly. “I was so lost in my head I completely forgot she rescheduled. Sorry I wasted your time.”
“It’s okay,” Frankie laughs. You can’t help but smile at his lopsided dimple. “Hey, since you don’t have lunch plans and I want to get out of mine… Can I take you out? You can tell me your life’s story since you already know mine?”
“Sure,” you smile, though half of you is screaming to just leave the country to escape the embarrassment.
Max Phillips
“Ew, no.” you scrunch your nose.
“Hey, you’re the one that lost the bet.” Eva insists.
“I am not kissing a random stranger.” You sweep your gaze across the crowded café.
“It was your idea.” Eva sips her tea.
“That was because I thought I was going to win.” You cross your arms across your chest.
“You don’t get to opt out just because you’re a sore loser.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know them, what if they have a disease or something? Gross.” Your stomach turns at the idea.
“Okay, fine.” Eva sighs. And, for a fleeting moment, you have hope that she’s given in. “Kiss that guy then,” she points.
You turn. “Oh my god, Eva. No.”
“What? He doesn’t look like he has a disease,” Eva shrugs.
“He looks like a frat boy.”
“He’s cute though.” Eva leans in a not-at-all-subtle way to get a clearer view of him.
“I hate you.” You stand up. “And when I’m done, you’re buying me an entire bottle of vodka to wash my mouth with.”
“Yes!” Eva cheers triumphantly. A few people shoot her expressions of annoyance at the outburst.
You storm over to the man and pull him in by the collar. His lips barely brush against yours before you’re stomping back to your friend. Though, for a moment, you actually consider staying to talk to him. Eva was right, he definitely isn’t hard on the eyes.
You push the thought from your mind and collapse back into your seat, scowling at your friend.
“You’re literally the worst human being on the planet,” you huff.
“You’re just being dramatic,” Eva laughs.
“Am not.” Okay… maybe you are, but Eva can’t know that.
“Fine. We’ll go get you a drink once I’m back from the bathroom.” Eva skips off, still laughing about your reaction.
She’s barely out of sight before her seat is filled by the stranger you just kissed.
“Don’t flatter yourself, I lost a bet,” you don’t look up at him, instead choosing the glare at a stain on the wooden table.
“I figured as much.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I also figured I have the right to at least know the name of the person who just kissed me.”
You reluctantly introduce yourself, still refusing to make eye contact with the man.
“I’m Max. And, if you want to apologise for kissing me without my consent,” he throws a napkin with a phone number scribbled in red sharpie onto the table in front of you, “You can call me.”
Marcus Pike
You hum quietly to yourself, unable to stop smiling. It’s been so long since you’ve gone on a real date. You turn on your shower, but instead of water coming from the showerhead, it starts leaking from the base of the hose.
That can’t be good. You turn off the water and fiddle with the shower. Maybe it just came loose.
You reach for the handle to try the water again. But before your hand can even touch the cool metal, the entire shower head disconnects from the wall and clatters to the shower floor.
Letting out an exasperated groan, you start gathering your clothes into a bag. You really don’t have time for this today. Crossing your fingers your neighbour is home, you head next door.
You’ve never actually talked to him, but you figure he’s probably a safer bet than the crazy old neighbour on your other side; the way he looks at you whenever you run into him gives you the jitters. And not the “he’s a creep” kind of feeling you get when anyone else stares for too long. More like the “he’s probably got a taxidermy cat in his living room and a human body in his closet” kind of feeling. So the neighbour you’ve never even introduced yourself to will have to do.
Your knock echoes through the quiet air. Shifting from foot to foot, you wait impatiently for an answer.
The door clicks open, leaving you face-to-face with your neighbour, who is way cuter up close than you expected him to be.
“…hi,” He greets you as if he’s startled by your presence.
“…hi…” you bite your lip and tear your gaze away from his face to examine your shoe. “I… Well, I live next door, and well—”
“I know,” he interrupts.
“I-What?”
“I’ve seen you… around. We get home from work at the same time, so…”
“Oh.” You chew on your lip for a moment. “Look, my shower broke, and I have a date I have to get to, and well…” you drift off. Are you really asking your irresistibly adorable neighbour who you’ve never met if you can use his shower?
“Oh. Okay, did you want to use mine then?” You pretend not to notice how pink his face has turned.
“Would you mind? I just—I’m running late and I don’t have time to figure out what’s wrong with mine before I leave and still have time to get ready to go.”
“Sure, Come on in,” He shuffles out of the way to allow you space to enter. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”
“Thank you so much,” you smile awkwardly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
You walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a run to get to the bathroom, leaving Marcus frozen in the doorway.
This is not how he imagined meeting you. Not that he imagined that at all. And he definitely hadn’t spent hours trying to figure out how to ask you out. Because that would be weird.
And he just let you use his shower to go on a date with someone else.
Fuck.
Marcus Moreno
“Excuse me,” a voice speaks up from behind you, just barely audible over your music. You turn around to find that the voice belongs to a young girl.
“Hello,” you greet taking out your headphones.
“Do you see that guy over there?” she asks, pointing across the cluttered bookstore to a man struggling to balance a tower of books while skimming the shelves for more.
“The one in the glasses?” you confirm.
“That’s my dad,” the girl nods. “He thinks you’re cute, but he’s too afraid to talk to you.”
“Oh,” you say, unsure whether you should be flattered or amused.
“He says it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want to weird you out,” she elaborates, “but I think he’s scared you won’t like him back.”
The man glances up, and, upon seeing his daughter talking to you, rushes over. He pauses only briefly when he trips over a box of books placed in the middle of the walkway.
“Oh, here he comes, act natural,” the girl whisper-yells just before her father arrives. “Oh, hey dad,” she greets him nonchalantly.
“Missy, what did we just talk about?” he scolds.
“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t go up to strangers and tell them my dad thinks they’re cute even when he totally does.”
Missy’s dad freezes, a look of horrified embarrassment washing over his face. “You… You told them what?”
“I’m going to shop some more,” she walks away, winking at you.
“Hey, you get back here, young lady,” he calls after her, struggling not to raise his voice above a murmur in the middle of the peaceful book shop. His daughter ignores him.
He groans under his breath. “I’m sorry about her,” he turns back to you.
“It’s okay,” you laugh. “I’m Y/N,”
“Marcus.” He looks down at his armful of books. “I’d uh… I’d offer a handshake but…”
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. Marcus smiles back. You allow a moment of uncomfortable silence before speaking up again. “So… you think I’m cute?”
“What? No! I mean, Yes. I mean…” Marcus’ face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Yes? But not… not in a weird way. I wasn’t like… admiring you or anything. That’d be… weird.” Marcus hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll just shut up now.”
You smile again at the flustered man in front of you. After a moment, you pull a pen from your sweatshirt pocket.
“Well, here’s my number,” you say, writing as clearly as you can across his forearm. “You can text me if you decide you do think I’m cute… In a weird way.”
You walk to the counter to pay for your books, sincerely hoping he decides to text.
---
Taglist:
@pascalisthepunkest @trashbin2 @anatanotegami @beesting77 @northernpunk @pumpkin-stars
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aewhore · 3 years
Text
Drunk in love ~ Orange Cassidy x reader (NSFW)
REQUEST BY : @bestfriendshypewoman​  (I hope you like it!!!)
Summary: You go out to the bar with Adam after Revolution 2020, You and Orange get tipsy and you both get very handsy and flirty. You both end up back in your hotel room and it gets juicy. ;)    
Word count: 3500
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Revolution had come and gone and it had been the best ppv for AEW so far. You had defended your AEW women's championship against one of your closest friends Kris Statlander. The saying in pro wrestling that “you hit harder when you're fighting your friends” never rang truer than when you and Kris stepped in the ring against one another. It was a hard hitting, fast paced match and it helped a lot that the crowd was electric the entire time. Signing with AEW was the best decision you had ever made in the last 15 years of your career, you were doing your best work and it was only getting better as your title reign continued.   
Hopping between different indie promotions means you made friends all over the world but sadly you didn't get to see them as often as you would like until now. That being said you also saw the people you didn't like a lot more often. Such people included the cooler than cool Orange Cassidy. It's not that you hated Cassidy, it's just he rubbed you the wrong way. It wasn't a one way street though, Cassidy wasn’t your biggest fan either. He would leave the room if you entered, he would ignore you if you both ever got stuck in a conversation together but now you were both in the same promotion so you did what any rational adults would do, and completely ignored each other like the plague.
So after your blockbuster match with Kris, you were bruised and beaten up as you prepared to leave the arena and return to your warm, soft bed back at the hotel. However just as you went to leave Hangman Adam Page came into your dressing room. “Hey Y/N, heck of a match tonight, congrats on successfully defending that title” He says as he gives you a congratulatory hug. You and Adam had been friends for many years, ever since ROH when Adam debuted and you were in a singles match on the main card. You had approached Adam after the show and you both immediately became great friends. “Speak for yourself! You just had an easy 5 star match and you're taking home the belt as well, I owe you many congratulations.” You laugh as you pat Adam on the back. “I don't know how you're still standing either, I'm absolutely exhausted and I can't wait to collapse back at the hotel” you confess to Adam as you go back to packing up your gear bag. “So you would be up for a champion’s celebratory beer at the bar?” You turn back to Adam to see him hiding a smirk like he already knew you answer. “Adam, I wanna go to bed.” you whine as Adam starts to give those puppy dog eyes of his. “Come on Y/N, were drinking buddies! You wouldn't want a cowboy to drink all by his lonesome after we’ve both had such a successful night” Adam did give some good points. The second you hesitated to think about it, Adam broke out into a smile.  “Great! I'll meet you in the hotel bar in 30 minutes” before you could argue Adam was already walking out giving you no option but to go drinking with your favourite southern boy.
You arrived back at the hotel to dump your luggage off back at your room first, while you were there you changed from your sweatshirt into a nice top so even if you didn't feel the best you might as well look the best. You left your room and headed towards the elevator. As you wait for the elevator, you reply to Adam’s text asking if you were on your way and if he should order you something to have it waiting for you when you get there. You got onto the first elevator that came, still on your phone you glanced up to push the button as you hit send on your demands for a free drink for Adam in exchange for your missing sleep.  You put your phone back into your pocket when you see you're not alone in the elevator, you were joined by all 3 of the best friends. You glance away to the mirror to fix your makeup. You hear Trent and Chuck talking amongst themselves about the pay per view that had just passed. It was no surprise not to hear a word from Cassidy other than the occasional grunt and mumbled “yeah”. You feel eyes on you as you glance in the mirror to see Cassidy staring at you in the mirror through his sunglasses. You raise your eyebrow slightly as you can feel your cheeks start to warm up under the heat of his stare.
The elevator dings when you all arrive at the lobby, you immediately turn to walk out of the elevator and towards the bar where you saw nearly every AEW wrestler celebrating another amazing ppv. You spot Adam sitting at the bar with two neat whiskeys in front of him and you immediately beeline for the much needed drink. Once you sit beside Adam the drinking begins, From beers to whiskeys as long as it was alcoholic you guys were drinking it. Since you were so small people assumed you couldn’t handle it, which couldn't be more wrong considering you put away a bottle of whiskey like it was nothing. As the hours ticked the crowd started to thin out in the bar but a lot of the remaining crowd all gathered around a few tables you had pushed together so you could all laugh and chat together. You were sandwiched between Adam and Chuckie T who were deep in conversation about the ups and downs of being southern men. You were drunkenly talking across the table at Kris who was telling you about her learning to wrestle on her home planet and how it compares to earthling wrestling. You were leaning your head against Adams shoulder as you normally did when the liquor was getting to your head. You glance around at your gang of coworker who were laughing and hollering as they told stories of their travels around the world before you eyes landed on Orange Cassidy, now without his signature sunglasses it was irrefutable that he was staring argyle at you, but as you focused on him you realized he wasn’t glaring at you rather he was giving a dead stare to Adam. This was thoroughly confusing as you weren’t aware if Adam and Cassidy had any beef. You make a mental note to ask Adam about it later when you were both sober.
You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and when you return you see that Chuckie has taken your seat and Trent has taken his seat, leaving the only empty seat beside Orange. You hesitate before sucking it up and sitting beside Cassidy, hoping he won't cause a fuss since he's busy chatting to Brandon Cutler and a few others. You pick back up your conversation with Kris which was easier since you were closer to her so it was far easier to hear her. Your conversations ends and you listen to Adam’s as he drunkenly rambles on about proper horse care to Trent and Chuckie who you are not sure if they’re listening intently or too drunk to even know Adams talking. You feel something on your back and turn to see Orange resting his arm around the back of your chair. You turn to face him and he’s already staring right at you with those strikingly blue eyes. “Can I help you?” You say, attitude dripping off every word. Cassidy sighs, he glances around at everyone at the table almost to ensure no one's watching before he leans in to you. “Listen i know we haven’t exactly seen eye to eye-” You interrupt him with a laugh at his massive understatement. “I mean it's hard to see eye to eye when we avoid each other Cassidy” he rolls his eyes. “Are you going to let me finish?” his voice had an air of dominance that you had never heard before causing you to stop talking immediately. Orange pulls your chair closer to him as the group around you gets loud again. He started to speak again this time in a low voice that demanded your attention. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I feel I have to explain myself. I feel there has been a misunderstanding between us..” due to how close you two had suddenly become you could smell jack and coke he was sipping on. “You see sweetheart I haven't been avoiding you because I don't like you, no no no quite the opposite, I’ve been avoiding you because I'm fascinated by you, the way you carry yourself. I find you incredibly attractive.” This was the most you had heard Cassidy speak in all your years of knowing him and to say you were gobsmacked would be an understatement. All this time you thought Cassidy disliked you and this is what was happening the whole time.  
As Cassidy spoke he rested his hand on the lower part of your thigh. You moved your hand to Cassidy’s side as you leaned in to whisper your response into his ear. “And here i was thinking you hated me but looking at where your hand is right now i can bet that you like me a lot more than you're letting on” the smirk on your face grows as you see a light blush grow on Cassidy’s face. You gently kiss Cassidy on the neck before you go to lean back in your chair but Cassidy doesn’t let you move too far away from him by wrapping the arm that was resting on your chair around your waist to pull you back into him. “Jesus, I always knew you’d be a tease” Cassidy growls into your ear “I just want to see how hot and bothered I get you” You run your hand up his thigh. Before Cassidy can reply in your back and forth he's interrupted by Adam. “Hey Y/N, I wanna head back to my room, help me up” You turn in your chair to see Adam doing grabby hands towards you. You burst out laughing at Adam showing how much of a baby he is. “Yeah ok Hangy lets get you back to your stables” you turn back to Cassidy to see him not looking at you but instead doing his usual too cool for school face, you grab a napkin off the table and a pen from your purse to scribble down your hotel room number. “When you finish up here come see me” You hand Cassidy the napkin and wink before you turn to help Adam out of the bar.
Adam was relying his entire weight on you as you approached his hotel room door, he was chatting your ear off about how fun the night was and how glad he was to have a friend like you.  You led him into the room before unceremoniously dumping him on his bed. He Immediately kicks off his boots before he starts to undress himself. “Jesus, Ok Adam at least  give me some sort of warning before you decide to get naked” You say over your shoulder as you turn to walk out of the room and to return to your own. “Ok night night Y/N” You couldn't help but laugh as you hear Adam wish you a good night, completely ignoring his half assed strip tease he just gave you. The second you shut Adams door behind you the anxiety in your stomach builds, what if Cassidy doesn't show but what happens if he does show up. The elevator ride from Adam’s floor to your own feels like an eternity. You get off the elevator and head towards your room. Once inside you put your bag down and take off your jacket. The pacing begins some time after that. You were a nervous wreck as you touched up your makeup and fixed your outfit waiting for Cassidy to show up.  
When you finally hear a knock at your door, you wait a few seconds to catch your breath before you look through the peephole to see Cassidy looking as nonchalant as ever. You open the door and before you can even greet him. Cassidy pushes past you into the room, slamming the door and pushing you up against it. You can feel his lips ghosting your own as you get lost in his gorgeous ocean coloured eyes. You lean up and Cassidy smashes your lips together in a wild and passionate kiss. Your hands went to wrap around Cassidy’s neck as his hand began roaming up and down your side, slipping under your shirt and massaging at the skin. His hands slide into your bra as he squeezes your tits causing you to gasp and that allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth. “Jump” he growls against your mouth as his hands lower to grab the backs  of your thighs as you follow his command and wrap your legs snuggly around his hips.
He walks you both towards your bed before he drops you onto the bed. You bounce as your ass collides with the soft surface. Your body lights up as Cassidy scans your body as he towers over you. You reach up and grab him by the collar to drag him down to smash your mouths back together. His hands return to roaming your body before he begins to tug your shirt up. You take the hint and strip off your shirt. Cassidy immediately attacks your chest with nips and open mouth kisses. You arch your back to get more from pressure and attention from Cassidy’s mouth while his mouth travels down your stomach. You giggled when he reached your happy trail, he eyed you as he began to unbutton your jeans. You raised your hips to make it easier to pull your jeans and your panties off completely and Cassidy throws them haphazardly behind himself.  Cassidy drapes your thighs over his shoulder as he begins to lay soft kisses and gentle bites along the insides of your thighs. He finally starts to lay kisses and kitten licks along your slit as your whines become full on moans at the pleasure you're receiving. His hands have a deadly grip on your hips keeping you bolted to the edge of the mattress meaning you can't do anything but lay there and take it as you start to be devoured. Cassidy’s kitten licks turn to long swipes of his tongue and his gentle kisses turn to toe curling pleasure as Cassidy sucks at your clit. Cassidy ate you out like a madman as you writhed and moaned below him. He eased a finger into you as you cried out his name, begging him for more. The coil in your abdomen tightened and tightened as Cassidy slid a second finger into you using his spit and your wetness as lubricant. He then begin scissoring and fucking you with his long, thin fingers. Knuckles nudging your G spot at the perfect pace as he thrust his fingers at an inhuman speed. “A-a-ahh C-Cassidy I’m g-onna c-cum” You cry out. Cassidy sucks on your clit to push you over the edge and you throw your head back.
You gripped his hair as you came down from your orgasm, you pull him up to kiss him and you groan as the taste of yourself fills your mouth. Your hands trail down his body as you tug at the hem of his shirt because him wearing any clothes is getting aggravating. He smirks at your need to see him naked as soon as possible. He grants your requests and you immediately attack his collarbone and chest with kisses and bites, he lets out a low moan when you suck on a sweet spot where his neck meets his shoulder causing him to suddenly grind into you. The feeling of his denim against your bare crotch caused a weird but euphoric rush to run through your body as he began fumbling with his jeans button. You place your hands over his in an effort to calm his nerves, you successfully get his jeans undone and he strips them off and throws them in the same direction that he threw yours. You had seen Cassidy without his shirt on before and you had seen him in wrestling trunks as well but seeing him towering above you in nothing but his boxers made you speechless at just how ungodly attractive he was. His slander build hid how much power and strength he had. You pulled Cassidy down to kiss him and you used this momentum to flip you both over so you were straddling Cassidy. Cassidy raises his hips to throw his boxers off, his hard dick stands up against his stomach and you grind against it for friction against your clit. He stills your hips by grabbing you and teasing your hole with his erection. You whined as Cassidy’s grip on your hips prevented you from sinking down on him.  
Cassidy smirked up at you as he lined himself up and slowly lowered you onto himself. The girth of it begins to override your senses as all you can think about is the stretching feeling as Cassidy pushed himself to the hilt. You sit flush against his hips when Cassidy starts to shallowly thrust up into you and your moans turn to cries when his tip perfectly nudges against your G spot. You place your hands against his chest for leverage and you can feel his rapid breathing beneath your palms. His thrusts become violent as his cock starts to throb inside of you. His hands trail up your body to squeeze and tease with your tits as you rode his cock like there was no tomorrow. You could tell Cassidy was close to cumming by the bright red flush of his face and chest and the groans that were just now becoming audible as he increased in volume the closer to finishing he got. Your hips started to stutter as your body tensed with how close you were. Cassidy lets his hand fall back down your body as he starts to rub tight circles on your clit causing you to be pushed over the edge as the coil in your stomach snaps and a rush of electricity zaps through your body. You clench on Cassidy and it feels as if you milk him of every drop of cum as his cum shoots, hot and thick into you. The aftershocks ripple through both your bodies as you fall forward onto Cassidy.  
After you both have caught your breath, you roll off of Cassidy to allow him to go to the bathroom. You can't help but stare at his bare ass as he walks away. You start to giggle before Cassidy turns back to you with a raised eyebrow. “I hate to see you leave, but i love to watch you go” He barks with laughter at what a horrible line that was. “You already got in my pants, you don't have to use bad pick up lines on me now.” You laugh at the savage rejection your brilliant line got. You stand on wobbly legs as you reach for a random shirt to wear to go to sleep in. Cassidy comes back from the bathroom with a washcloth and hands it to you and you wipe yourself off before throwing the cloth back towards the bathroom and curling up into bed. You notice Cassidy is still standing beside the bed not looking directly at you but darting his eyes around the room as if he's never been in a hotel before. You realize he’s debating whether to stay or go, so you make that decision for him by lifting up the blankets and patting the empty space. “Come on, cool guy, it's cuddle time.” He tries to hide it as he climbs in beside you but you see that small smile on his face as you pull him into your nest of comfort. “Hey Y/N?” you hear Cassidy ask after you turn the light off. “Yeah Orange?” your brows furrow slightly at what Cassidy could be gearing up to ask. “Are you wearing my shirt?” you breathe a sigh of relief at the simple question. “Um yeah” you say, gauging his reaction, silently hoping he's not mad. “Hm.. Cool” He pulls you closer as you start to fall asleep to the even beat of his heart.
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sadclearance · 3 years
Text
the cowboy and the vampire
pairing: benny watts x male! vampire! reader
summary: halo by cage the elephant
category: smut(?), songfic
warning(s): sexual content, non-explicit oral sex, knifeplay, nudity
word count: 1311
key:
italicized - song lyrics
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"hey there, cowboy," a stranger sends a wink his way as he sits down next to him.
every time i get away
benny was looking for a quiet night at a bar in the country he's to play in, but he doesn't complain.
you find a way to reel me back in
the stranger's alluring, and benny's always up for interesting things.
"benny, actually," he introduces.
"okay, cowboy benny. wanna get outta here?"
"you just sat down," benny raises a brow but downs the rest of his drink anyway, letting the stranger drag him by his hand.
"this your first rodeo?"
"i don't know if you've realized, but cowboy jokes are a real turn off," benny says against his lips as he pushes him until his back hits the door.
"wait--" he pushes him away before he can dive back into the kiss.
"what?" benny backs off. "do you wanna stop?"
"yeah," he nods. "look, benny. you're really hot, but..."
tell me that you love me
benny focuses all of his attention to him and listens very intently.
"i can't do this with you if cowboy jokes are a turn off."
"what?" all concern falls off his face, and he's left in shock. "are you serious?"
hold me tight so we can always be friends
"a hundred percent," he nods in confirmation, patting benny's shoulder. "i think we're better off as friends."
"friends?"
"yeah," he smiles. "see you around, cowboy benny."
he can only stand in shock as the boy leaves the room.
i swear
a boy weaves through the crowded street, hands slipping in pockets, mouth charmingly distracting the unaware victims.
i said it before and i'll say it again
he worms out of the crowd and looks through his finds.
every time i get away
he's smiling at his own capability when a hand pulls him back into a dark alley.
you find a way to pull me back in
"so this is what the great y/n l/n's been up to for the past month," benny smirks when y/n steadies himself enough to look up at him.
why does it take so long
"been longer than that, actually," y/n feigns a brave smile. "how'd you know?"
"an eye for an eye," benny tosses him the wallet that he thought he had lost long ago.
"you--"
"i could tell from the second you took my shirt off," benny says.
"then why didn't you stop me?"
"i wouldn't have had a chance to get that then," benny gestures at his wallet.
"even looking at my i.d.--you're quite the snooper."
"even without it, i would've heard about you eventually. you've made quite the name for yourself."
"you too, chess prodigy benny watts. even made it to the cover of a magazine."
"didn't take you for the chess type."
"i'm not. you're just hot enough to buy a ten cent magazine for."
"not hot enough to finish sleeping with, apparently."
why does it feel so wrong
"the elite cowboy wants to sleep with little old me?" y/n gestures to himself dramatically.
why does it take so long
"took a whole month to find you. would be nice to get an award."
you knew i
"well i can't let the 'youngest genius of the year' go unsatisfied, can i?"
couldn't help myself
y/n gets on his knees.
"here?" benny asks, astounded by the boldness.
i had to lay low
"fuck." benny's head meets the hard brick wall when y/n touches him.
got so high
his fingers pull and harshly tug on h/c strands when he finishes.
couldn't help myself
"we're so far from done," y/n whispers in his ear when he gets back up on his feet. "gotta finish what we couldn't get to last time."
took me by the hand and said remember all the good times we had
the room's dingier than the one before, but benny can hardly notice when cold hands are running up his shirt.
this time, he's the one pushed against the door. he struggles to stabilize himself under the pressure of a palming hand, but when he does, he feels something thin and cold against his neck.
i remember how you took my favorite knife and slipped it under my skin
"did you feel that while i was taking off your shirt this time too?" y/n smiles, adding pressure to both the knife pressing against benny's neck and the hand on his bulge.
"fuck, you got better," benny admits with a laugh.
"i was wondering why you were carrying a knife since the first time we met. cowboys usually carry a gun on their belt, not a knife."
"again with the cowboys?" benny rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless.
i swear
the smile's replaced by a sinful bite of soft pink lips when y/n daringly drags the knife down his neck, pressing too light to leave any sort of mark but hard enough to make benny hypersensitive to every little touch.
i said it before and i'll say it again
"i told you, benny. we can't do this if you reject my western jokes."
benny doesn't say anything as y/n creates a thin red line on his collarbone.
it stings, and the feeling isn't very pleasant, but the hot tongue that laps at the pooling blood makes him lean into the touch, so he lets y/n drag his knife down the rest of his chest.
he stares nervously as the knife gets closer to his belt.
with one hand, y/n manages to undo benny's belt buckle once more. he lets the jeans pool at his feet as he teases at the idea of dragging the knife down benny's hard cock but instead manhandles him until he falls onto the bed in the middle of the room.
every time i get away
benny immediately flinches when y/n sits on his knees and moves the knife dangerously close to his somehow still erect dick.
you find a way back under my skin
y/n moves around the wetness at benny's tip with the side of the knife. it's cold but safe, but benny's still wary of how y/n can flip it any second.
when he lifts the knife slightly away and turns it slowly, benny wants to escape, but his body just freezes and watches intently, anticipating the next move as if this were a high stakes chess game. actually, no. benny decides that this is way more high stakes than any chess game could ever be.
the knife slides down until it's settled right next to his balls, resting at the place where his legs and crotch meet.
he inhales sharply at the prickly feeling of it cutting into his skin right next to such a sensitive spot.
y/n somewhat noses at his balls as his mouth moves to the spot, sucking harshly.
benny wants to buck his hips to get closer, but he stops himself when he sees that the knife is still held dangerously close to him.
he relaxes when y/n finally puts the knife down on the sheets, but his relief leaves almost instantly when he feels two sharp teeth break the skin of his thigh, fortunately further away from his cock than the knife wound, but still alarmingly close. once deep enough, they're followed with dull teeth in between and a bottom row.
it hurts a lot more than the grazes of his knife, but it feels genuinely pleasurable. whether that be because there's  an added warm wetness of y/n's tongue or not, he isn't too sure, but he doesn't really care either.
y/n's eyes meet his, staring into them as he purposefully puts on a show of him draining him for all he was worth.
"thanks for the meal," y/n removes himself and raises his head just a little. enough to show benny the unbelievably attractive sight of y/n licking his sharp bloodstained teeth.
❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥
a/n;
i heard "favorite knife and slipped it under my skin" and immediately went--benny watts! perfect, since i've been wanting to write a fic about benny's knife ever since i watched queen's gambit anyway. even wrote a small 58 word thing i never finished, so it was perfect
then i gave up on following the song immediately after that passed lol
self indulgent 3:43am fic B)
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duhragonball · 3 years
Note
Bulma
Give me a character and I will answer:
Why I like them: Somewhere around 1998, Kurt Busiek took over as the writer for the Iron Man comic.   This was back when Iron Man wasn’t particularly popular and the last two attempts to reboot the guy had failed.   I read an interview in Wizard Magazine where Kurt promoted his upcoming run, and he explained the character this way: Tony Stark is a superhero, an inventor, a ladies’ man, and a billionaire.    You could have a blast writing a comic book about any one of those four things, but he’s all four.    I may have gotten those four items wrong, partly because it’s been 22 years, and partly because it was more famous when Robert Downey Junior echoed that pitch in 2012.    Take away the armor, and what is he?   A billionaire genius philanthropist.   
My point is that this is the appeal to Bulma as well.    When we first meet her, she’s an adventurer, but then we find out she invented the device that lets her locate the Dragon Balls.  And her mission is a romantic quest, so she’s like the heroine in a romance story.    Then we meet her parents, and it turns out she’s a wealthy heiress.    Well, I’m assuming Dr. Brief doesn’t plan on leaving his fortune to all of his pets, but you get the idea.  
There’s a lot of versatility to the character.   Some arcs barely make use of her, but others take full advantage.    You can plop her in almost any scenario and it works.    You want to write her at a fancy charity dinner?   She’d fit right in.   You want her teaching shop class in your high school AU?   No problem at all.   You want her to seduce a bad guy?     You want her to shoot a bad guy?    You want her to be the bad guy?   It all works.  
The main thing people dislike about Bulma is the way she treated Yamcha when they were together, and she’s kind of a jerk a lot of the time.    Fair point, but I think this adds to the character.   If she were sweet as could be and a rich, attractive polymath, she’d be downright insufferable.    Also, her attitude plays off of the compassion she shows through the series.   I can’t explain her behavior around Yamcha, but she did offer free room and board to the entire population of Namek, so I feel like that needs to be taken into consideration.
Why I don’t: In the first... hundred or so episodes of DBZ, Bulma doesn’t get a lot of chances to shine, despite all the screentime they gave her.   Early into my DBZ-watching experience, I found her to be something like a shriller version of TMNT’s April O’Neil, a sidekick whose job was to look cute and get into danger so the good guys could save her.   She really doesn’t get back into her groove until she returns to Earth, and once I saw those episodes, and her time in the original Dragon Ball, the character began to make a lot more sense.   Really, the Bulma in DBZ #1 through 108 was probably intended to demonstrate how out-of-hand the situation was.   She fixed the scouter and then it exploded.   She fixed Nappa’s spaceship and it exploded.   She fixed Kami’s spaceship and then Namek exploded.    She just couldn’t keep up with the crisis. 
Favorite episode (scene if movie):
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Not exactly any one episode, but one of my favorite bits in the Red Ribbon Army Sagas is that the RRA has their own Dragon Radar, but it’s not portable, or anywhere near as precise as the one Bulma invented.    It’s Goku’s biggest advantage during that conflict, and when it breaks, there’s literally no one else who can fix it.    Those magic babies from Arale could make a new one, but I’m pretty sure they only did that by copying the design or something.   And the RRA assumes that Goku must have an entire team of scientists providing him with logistical support, and that Master Roshi must be their leader, since he’s so old.  
Also, near the end of the arc, Bulma needs to call Yamcha on the phone, but Roshi doesn’t have one, and then Turtle suggests that Bulma should just build one from scratch, since she had just finished building a robot drone a few episodes earlier.    And she’s like “Oh, yeah, I forgot I knew how to do that.”
Favorite season/movie: The Androids/Cell arc is a big deal because it has two Bulmas, and her son is in it too.   
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And this is what I mean when I talk about versatility.    That Super Dragon Ball Heroes series has two Gokus and two Vegetas, and I have no idea why, because they’re exactly the same, except one pair does SSJ4 and the other does Super Saiyan Blue.   Bulma’s got more layers, so in a story like this, you can have 30-something Bulma care for an infant son and tackle logistical problems while she figures out her relationship with Vegeta, while the 50-something Bulma in the future can be this strong-yet-gentle post-apocalyptic survivalist, who hopes for a better tomorrow as she longs for her fallen friends.  
Favorite line: I’m gonna stray from the canon for a minute, because I’m having trouble coming up with something, but in DBZ Abridged, when she’s arguing with Vegeta during his training session, they just start shouting “Fuck you!” at each other.    Then she stops and says: “My room.    Ten minutes.” 
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And holy shit, the delivery on that line was incredible. I knew they’d try to do something to set up their relationship, but there’s no footage to do that with, so they did it all with one line and some killer VA work.
Favorite outfit: This is a big, big wardrobe to choose from, but I’m partial to the one she wore in the Imperfect Cell Saga.
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I can’t really explain the appeal, but I like this hairstyle and the clothing looks like authentic stuff you could actually buy at a store, which just makes it feel more real, even though it’s not any more detailed than her other outfits.    I’m not sure that makes any sense.    The trucker hat looks cute on her, let’s leave it there.
OTP: You know, there’s a lot of chemistry between Bulma and Yajirobe, and even though it’s kind of a rarepair, I can’t help but-- Okay, it’s her and Vegeta.   I’ll stop messing around.   
Brotp: Definitely her and Goku.  I’m imagining the set up to the DBS Broly movie going like this.
“Hey, I’m gonna invite Goku along on our trip.    That way you can fight him when you get bored.”
“Why do you keep asking him to tag along I can’t stand him.” 
“Yeah, but I like him and I paid for the resort, so I guess you gotta deal with it.” 
“...”  
Then he shows up and she sends him on some ridiculous mission to search the ocean floor for sunken treasure or something.   
Head Canon: Future Bulma does tech support in Toki Toki/Conton City, because Xenoverse is canon and the Goku Black Saga can just bugger right off because it never happened.   
She shows up from time to time to check on all the Capsule Corp tech in the city, and she drops by just to say hi to her boy, and also she has coffee with my Mary Sue OC, because Future Bulma appreciates how tough and cool my writing is.
Unpopular opinion: The Vegebul ship probably gets way too much attention.  Not that it’s a bad ship or that it doesn’t deserve the attention, but it feels like a buffet where all anyone gets is ranch dressing.    They just ignore the rest of the spread and fill an entire bowl with ranch and head back to the table to drink it.   Then they come right back and line up for another helping.  
I’m not knocking it.   I have a Vegebul calendar in my kitchen.   But it reminds me of how the “comics fandom” in the late 90′s was really just an X-Men fandom that acknowledged that other comic books hypothetically existed.
They’re gonna come after me now, aren’t they?
A wish: A lifetime supply of strawberries does sound kind of nice...
An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I hope we’re done with Bulma’s Resurrection F outfit for good.   The cowboy boots, no, we’re done with that. 
5 words to best describe them: Five would never be enough.
My nickname for them: Don’t have one.   Vegeta calls her “woman”, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t go over well if I started doing that.
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Text
Love Languages: Week Two
A little ficlet for @arthureamesmonth week two! Prompts: “You know you love me” and Love Languages.
Day 1: Receiving Gifts
“You know you love me,”
Arthur was frozen bent over his desk, fingers still on the keyboard, “Mr. Eames, what exactly about this situation is supposed to endear you to me?”
“I brought you waffles! You’re American, you love waffles!”
Arthur spun around in his chair to focus fully on the other man for the first time in their conversation. “Let’s run through the day’s events, shall we? I wake up, I shower,” at this Eames smirked lecherously, “I get a large, hot cup of coffee, I come into work, you spill that hot coffee all over me, you grope me while pretending to help me dry off, I work for five hours straight, and now you’ve brought me waffles. Waffles which are currently dripping syrup onto my paperwork.”
“Well it’s your fault for having paperwork in the first place, pet! I’m just conditioning you to give it up,” He leaned against the desk casually, sending even more paperwork drifting to the floor. “To save the trees, as it were.”
“Did it not occur to you to bring me another cup of coffee?”
Eames lit up, Arthur was frustrated to see, like he was somehow taking Arthur’s rebuke as encouragement, “Well I have now. Thank you for the tip! I’ll go and fetch you a cup of coffee.”
Arthur screwed his face up briefly in some combination of confusion and disgust, eyes squinted and lips slightly curled, and snagged Eames by the hem of his pastel monstrosity of a shirt. “What, no, get back here.”
Eames stopped promptly at the tug and grinned, “Well if you insist darling, I could never refuse you.”
“I mean, why would you do that? I don’t need coffee,” this was a lie, he always needed coffee, “I need you to do your job.”
“Why am I doing this? What do you mean why am I doing this? Isn’t it obvious that I’m wooing you?”
“Wooing me.”
Eames swept his arms in an all encompassing gesture to the warehouse around them, as if asking it to bear witness, “Like the fair maiden you are!”
“Good fucking lord.”
“Yes I am rather good, aren't I, but I beg you not to take my name in vain,”
Arthur spun back around to his work, decisively plunking the waffles on the floor—not in the trash, Eames took note, “Go back to your desk, Mr. Eames.”
Eames stuffed his hands in his pockets and started backing away slowly, “Alright, alright. So your love language isn’t gifts. I’ll try again tomorrow.”
Arthur glanced over his shoulder, startled and genuinely perplexed, “What? You know what, nevermind. Not important. Aren’t you scheduled to paint Ms. Chapman’s nails in 45 minutes?”
Eames checked his watch, “Ah, yes, look at the time,” and that was that.
Day 2: Words of Affirmation
Rain was coming down fast and hard and, unfortunately, sideways. Everyone in the warehouse, which was a gloomy and unfortunate affair already, was dripping wet and unhappy, trying to hear themselves think over the loud echo of the rain on a tin roof. It was on this unfortunate scene that Eames burst in, dressed in the most obnoxious of suits and yelling to be heard over the rain. “God is really pissing on us today, isn’t he? Arthur, darling, how do you cope?”
Arthur continued to shuffle through a file, “You’re late.” The effect of his unhappiness was diminished considerably by the fact that he had to yell as well, but he was trying not to think about that.
“Only a tad!” Eames dropped his coat on the floor and walked to Arthur's desk. “I bet you’re never late.”
Arthur glanced up briefly, “No. I’m not. And if you ever came in at a reasonable time you would know that.”
Eames grinned down at him boyishly, “Wow. You are so good at your job.”
Arthur glanced up and back down again, but quickly focused his full attention on Eames when he realized he was missing something, “Yes,” responded slowly, “I really am.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, “I’m sorry, are you fishing for compliments? Because I thought we had established this. Yes, you’re an excellent forger, I’m an excellent point man, Janie is—”
“No, no! You’ve got it all wrong, love. I’m just trying to give you a compliment.”
“A compliment.”
Eames bent over the desk until he could rest his head in his hands, putting him at eye level with Arthur. “Yes. A compliment.”
Arthur paused, “Yeah, alright.”
Eames closed Arthur’s laptop and attempted to close his file before Arthur yanked it back. “Darling. Arthur. Darling Arthur. Has anyone ever told you that you look like a god in those suits of yours? Or that the fact that you could kill a man without breaking a sweat is like something from a wet dream? Or that your ruthless competency gives me butterflies?”
“Not in those exact words, no.”
Eames pulled back dramatically, throwing a hand over his heart and gasping, “A tragedy! I’ll just have to make up for these years of neglect, won't I?”
“Eames, you’ve already wasted enough of the day already. I think that—”
“No, no, this is happening—”
“I think that everyone would appreciate it more if you actually did what you were being paid for.”
Eames put in an effort to look very hurt and offended, “But don’t you enjoy being showered with praise? Everyone enjoys compliments. For example, your arse looks impeccable today.”
“I’ve been sitting down this entire time.”
“Well I’m sure that it does, if it’s track record has anything to say for itself.”
“Mr. Eames.”
“Alright, okay, giving up.”
Day 2, Evening: Quality Time
The rain had ended sometime around four o’clock, but the clouds never cleared. Everyone had left at five—they didn’t have nine to five jobs, but everyone seemed to agree that it was a reasonable time to give up for the day. Everyone except for Arthur, of course.
He was the only one left in the warehouse at nearly seven. He always put in the most work at the beginning of a job, when everyone needed the information to get going and make a plan. After that most of his time was dedicated to working on the dreamscape, and sometimes not even that if someone else could do it better.
He only looked up at last when he heard the click and resounding slam of the door. Eames’ footsteps echoed in the empty space as he walked to his desk and sat down, pulling a battered paperback out of his coat and opening it to the first page.
Arthur’s voice felt too loud when he spoke, “What are you doing back here?”
Eames looked up with a smile. “Keeping you company through these long, grueling nights, of course. You know, you really work too hard.”
Arthur scoffed, “You don’t work hard enough.” He didn’t believe that, he and Eames actually worked together spectacularly well when they got the chance, but he wasn’t quite sure what their relationship would look like if he wasn’t disapproving. He finally caught up to what Eames had said, “You’re keeping me company?”
“Yes, do try to keep up.”
“But why?”
“Because otherwise you’d be sitting in this miserable place by yourself, and we can’t have that.”
Arthur paused in real confusion, “But… it’s my job. I don’t mind.”
“But wouldn’t it be better with someone else?”
“But you don’t have to be here.”
“Oh, please. What else would I do? Go to a club? Pick up a flexible young person to fuck into the matress for everyone to hear? Watch even more Star Trek on television?”
“Yes! Any of those things!”
“But what flexible young person in this city could ever compare to the flexible young person sitting in front of me?”
Arthur shook his head in exasperation, “Whatever. Do what you want.”
Ten minutes of very unproductive attempts to focus later, Arthur finally gave in. “So, what are you reading?”
Eames held up a finger, then dog-eared the page and closed the book. “I’m so glad you asked! It’s called The Hot Virginia Sun. It’s turning out to be an excellent read, and, just between the two of us, the reviews promise that the Virginia sun isn’t the only thing that’s hot.”
“And this is really entertaining for you?”
“One word: cowboys.”
Arthur snorted, “You’re a middle aged mother of three.”
Eames shrugged, “What can I say, middle aged mothers have great taste.”
“Okay, but really, this can’t be fun for you.”
“It’s fine, Arthur. I chose to be here.”
“But I can’t focus knowing you’re sitting there reading a shitty harlequin because I won’t leave!”
“It’s not because you won’t leave, darling—”
“Please. If I left you wouldn’t stay.”
“Well no, the main attraction would be gone.”
“But I’m not being interesting! I can’t entertain you like this! I’m just working!”
Eames held his hands up in surrender, “Alright, at ease. This was clearly a bad idea.”
Arthur groaned, “And now you’re leaving. You put in the time to come here to keep me company, which still makes no sense, by the way, and now I’ve kicked you out. You know what, I’ll be done too. We can head back to the hotel, maybe get takeout for dinner. I’ll come in early tomorrow, it’s fine.”
Eames hurried over and pushed Arthur back down in his chair by his shoulders, “While I will always jump at the chance of dinner and a stroll with you, the entire thing is rather ruined if I’ve guilted you into it. So I’ll go—”
“But—”
“I’ll go, and you finish up your night’s work.” Eames gave Arthur’s shoulders one last firm press and attempted to make a hasty exit.
“Eames.”
“Arthur. It’s fine, it’s really fine.”
“Eames!”
“Goodnight, Arthur!”
Day 3: Physical Touch
“Oh, Jesus, ow, ow!”
“Eames?”
“Yes, it’s me, let me up!”
Arthur got up from the sidewalk where he had Eames pinned, helping him scramble to his feet as people filtered around them. “What the hell possessed you to sneak up on a trained killer?”
“I’ll admit I didn’t quite think this through.”
“And then you grabbed me?”
“It was a companionable touch!”
“It was dangerous!”
Eames looked up hopefully from where he was brushing gravel off of his palms, “Well, can I put my arm around you now?”
“Fuck me, no!”
“I don’t know how we got from this rather violent encounter to fucking, but alright. Can I assume you like it rough?”
“You can assume nothing,” Arthur admonished with a sharp backhanded slap to his shoulder. Eames sucked a hissing breath in through his teeth. “Ah. Yes, sorry about the shoulder.”
Eames shot him a pained smile, “Yes well, I rather deserve it, don’t I? Not my smartest idea.”
Arthur fought back a smile, “Come on. There’s ice at the hotel.”
“Why Arthur! Is this finally a—”
“Don’t even think about it. Ice. And keep yourself to yourself this time, Mr. Eames.”
Day 4: Acts of Service
“Come on, love, we’re getting out of here.” Eames hoisted Arthur up by his armpits, hastily draping one of Arthur’s arms around his broad shoulders to keep him up.
Arthur’s head rolled on his shoulders, “What? Wait—”
“You’ve had a nasty reaction to the somnacin, darling, but everything will be okay.” Eames shot a murderous glance at Jason, their chemist.
Arthur shook his head drunkenly, “Nooo, I’m not aler— allergenic—” he screwed up his face in concentration, “all-er-gic… to anything.” His head rolled onto Eames shoulder, “Promise.”
Eames chuckled and gazed down at Arthur’s scowling face, “I believe you, my darling Arthur, but let’s head back to the hotel just in case, yeah? Have a nice nap.”
Arthur flung his head back, causing Eames to jerk his back in response in protection of his nose, “Ha! Yooouuu— you’re trying to sleep with me.”
Janie giggled, then did her best to turn it into a cough and looked away. Eames looked torn between giggling himself and defending Arthur’s dignity. “Not this time,” he grinned and parroted Arthur’s worlds back to him, nudging his face a little closer to Arthur’s teasingly, “Promise.”
Arthur squinted suspiciously, leaning his head away from Eames’ face in an effort to assess him from afar—unsuccessfully, his arm was still wrapped around his shoulders. “Hmmm. Fine.” He looked down, puzzled, at their bodies pressed together, then brought his unoccupied hand up to squeeze Eames’ bicep, “Wow.”
Janie let loose a short shriek of laughter, earning herself another glare, “O-kay, I think it’s time to go.” Eames turned his squint back to Janie and spoke in a low voice, “You know, for a criminal you have horrific self control. Can I trust your discretion is a little more operational?” He raised an eyebrow.
He was going for threatening, but Arthur ruined it by giggling and smoothing his fingertip clumsily along Eames’ raised eyebrow, “Oooh. Scary.”
Eames glared good naturedly at Arthur, who was snickering into his shoulder, “You are not helping your case.”
“I’m fiiine.”
“Alright, leaving now,” Eames dragged Arthur’s stumbling figure towards the exit, “Don’t make me carry you.”
Arthur gasped in horror, his voice fading as he was hauled further from the listening ears of the team,“Nooo! That’s indig— undignified. I am a gentleman!”
_____________________
Arthur was tired, exhausted really, but that was quickly being replaced by a jittery sickness as the drugs worked their way out of his system. Arthur groaned when they finally made it to Eames’ room (he wasn’t nearly lucid enough when they left to have taken his own key card with him). He slumped into Eames’ side, clinging embarrassingly, too shivery from the detox to care about his reputation.
“Will you be okay, darling?”
Arthur expelled the air from his lungs in one long breath, “No. Never again.” He stumbled toward the bed to the best of his ability, dragging Eames along as his crutch. “It’s fucking freezing in here,” he chattered, “Why are hotel rooms always so cold?” He reached the bed and climbed in clumsily, shaking too badly to pull back the covers without Eames’ quick assist. He tucked himself into a ball under the sheets, pulling the duvet over his head. His voice came muffled from beneath the layers of fabric, “Turn the heat up.”
Eames’ voice was softer than he normally allowed, “Alright.” Arthur heard the beeping of the thermostat being turned up several degrees, but continued to shiver violently. “Well, if that’s all, perhaps you would prefer—”
“Eames.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t make me beg.”
Eames stared at the quivering pile of blankets, face uncomprehending, until Arthur pulled the layers down over his head enough to glare out at him. “Eames.”
His eyes widened at what he realized he was being asked, “I— yes, alright.” He took several halting stops towards the bed but stopped just short. “Um. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about just— it’s just that, enthusiastic consent, you understand? And”
“Eames. This isn’t sex.”
“Well, even so—”
“Oh, Christ, just climb under.”
Eames lurched forward, as if Arthur’s words had cut his strings, and lay down under the covers. He hovered across from Arthur for several seconds before releasing a long, slow breath and reaching out to touch.
Arthur stared at him with wide eyes as he slowly swept one broad palm down Arthur’s shaking arm. He repeated the motion several times, focused intently on the path he retraced, before finally letting his fingers curl over Arthur’s shoulder and drag heavily down to the small of his back. With one final scrap of courage he pulled his body into Arthur’s front, Arthur’s body uncurling under the warm press of him.
Arthur let his arms unclench and move around Eames’ sides, under his arms and tight around his back. He clutched Eames close, twining their legs together, his body shuddering at the heavenly warmth sinking into his starved skin.
Eames relaxed unto the embrace, carding his fingers through Arthur’s gelled hair and resting against his neck. “Better?” he whispered.
Arthur nodded against his chest.
“Are you going to be sick?”
Arthur laughed painfully before whispering back, ‘Probably. Eventually.”
“Okay then.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” They laid in silence, listening to their own breath.
“Eames?”
“Yes?”
Arthur paused, “I might. One day.”
Eames smiled into the crown of Arthur’s head, his eyes crinkling at the edges, “I would like that.”
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littlestarofthewest · 5 years
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Title: Returning the Favor | Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female Reader
Rating: Explicit | Words:  2981 | Tags: power dynamics, smut, cunnilingus, mildly dubious consent (both are able and willing, but it’s a wonky situation)
Summary:  You get robbed by the most handsome man you've ever seen and he disappears into the night. What do you do when he comes back bringing you a gift?
You quickly make your way along the empty street. It's getting dark, meaning that the decent folks head home while the night makes room for the delinquents. So far, you've been fine, mainly since people around here know that you're a woman who can hold her own and that you're carrying a nasty six-shooter that quickly ends discussions that are not going your way.
Tonight, you're unarmed, though. You made some extra dollars cleaning the Jefferson house, and Mrs. Jefferson won't have anybody with a gun on her property except for her guards.
You turn a corner, and the small hairs on your back stand up. The alley in front of you is pitch black. It's probably not a good idea to head that way, but that alley brings you right to your doorstep, and you can avoid walking past the saloon. 
After a deep breath, you rush through the narrow passage. Nothing happens. The moonlight illuminates the street before you, and you're only a couple of steps away from your home. It's still too far. You know the second you hear footsteps that you're in trouble. 
A dark figure steps out into the street right in front of you, the moonlight  glistening on the barrel of the stranger's gun. It's pointed at your chest. "I'm very sorry about this, Miss, but I have to check you for valuables."
The deep voice sends shivers down your spine, but fancy words don't change the fact that you hate to be bullied. "That's an impressing way to phrase a robbery."
The man lifts his head just a fraction, his face no longer hidden by his hat. You should probably wonder why he's not wearing a mask while robbing you, but you're too stunned by his looks. He's the most handsome man you've ever seen, with bright eyes and a nicely trimmed beard that invites you to touch it.
"Not trying to be impressive, Miss," the stranger says. 
Not that he has to try, he just is. A head taller than you, his shoulders are so broad that there's no way for you around him, no matter how quick you are. He takes a step forward, holding the gun a little higher. "You wanna give me what you have or do I have to take a look myself?"
Usually, you wouldn't be caught dead being touched by a stranger, but this one's at least a looker. If you're getting robbed, you might as well get something out of it. And who knows, maybe there's still a way to turn this around. "I only got a few dollars. You're welcome to see for yourself." 
The man raises his brows, clearly surprised. You have to hold in a laugh. It seems that Mr. Tough-Guy made an empty threat and wasn't planning on touching you at all. He clears his throat before stepping closer. "Don't move," he says, but his voice lost a little of its bravado.
You hold out your arms, and he runs his hand along your waist, checking for hidden treasures under your belt. After barely touching you, he grabs your pouch and takes a look inside. As he takes out the money from your cleaning job, you take your chance. With a swift movement, you grab his gun, and for a second you think you've got him. Then his hands grab both of your wrists. He presses you against the nearest wall with so much force that it pushes the air out of your lungs. 
The man steps closer, his whole body boxing you in as he holds both your arms up against the wall. "Don't make me hurt you, miss," he growls, and there's an edge to his voice that finally makes you see the danger you're in.
"Can't blame a girl for trying," you manage to say, not ready to play the frightened victim, no matter how cold you suddenly feel.
The stranger runs his eyes all over your body as if to check that there's no other threat. His gaze drives away the cold, heating your body in a way that's utterly inappropriate for the situation. After a moment, the man presses himself against you, holding you in place while he lets one of your arms go to take the gun out of your hand. He holsters it while looking you dead in the eye, and you know what that means. He doesn't need a weapon to contain you.
"Still don't have more than those few dollars," you say, wondering what he will do about that.
"I don't need your money," he says, taking a step back and bringing your arms down in front of you. "I'll just take this."
Without warning, he slides a silver ring from your finger, and it disappears in his pocket before you get your bearings. Stepping farther away from you, he trains his gun at you again, backing away. "Now, you stay there for a bit, and we'll forget that this ever happened."
You wish you could, but there's a reason you clean houses of old hags instead of pawning a valuable ring. "That belonged to my mother," you say, unable to keep the grief out of your voice. "Please, mister, I can get you more money."
He freezes on the spot, considering your words. "I'll bring it back. Promise."
Before you can argue about it, he disappears into the dark. You run after him, but there's a soft whistle, and then you hear a horse galloping away. "You bastard!" you scream after him, not caring that other thieves might be around. They better not try anything with you tonight.
------
It's been a week since you lost your most valuable possession. Now, you don't care about Mrs. Jefferson's stupid rule and bring your gun along wherever you go. Standing in front of your door, you feel a sense of dread. You turn around, pointing your gun at the stranger behind you.  
"Good evening, miss," he says, walking into the light. 
"You got some nerve, coming back here," you growl.
The man holds up his hands and dares to smile at you. You hate that it makes him even more attractive. "Promised to bring this back," he says, holding up a small object. 
Your ring is glistening in the dim light. "Why?" you ask, not quite believing what you see.
"See, I was just trying to help a friend who found himself in jail," he explains, "I didn't mean to rob you at all."
"How would my ring get your friend out of jail?"
"Pawned the ring, played some poker, got the ring back, paid the bounty," he says. "So thank you for getting my friend out, I guess."
You wish you could say something witty, but the man seems to tell the truth. If he does, it's impressive, but what really gets you is how thoughtful he was about it. "You bought my ring?"
"You said it was your mother's. I didn't want to cause any grieve."
He takes a step forward, holding out the ring at arm's length so you can grab it without having him close. You hold up your hand, and he drops the ring into your palm, stepping away again. "I figure that makes us even. We can go our separate ways, and nobody needs to know."
It's reasonable and precisely what you should do, but you've never been reasonable a day in your life. The fact that he got you still burns hot in your chest, and deep down, you know you won't forget him that easily. Besides, you don't want to let him go just yet.
"Even?" you blurt out. "I already grieved for a week, not knowing that I would get the ring back. You robbed me, and you assaulted me. We're not even."
He nods solemnly at the words. "Fair point. Then what do you suggest we do?"
You look him over, and despite telling yourself that you should just walk away, another voice deep inside reminds you how well built this man is, how polite, and how complicit. It makes all kinds of wrong ideas pop up in your head.
"What's your name?" you ask.
"Taci-," he says, but stops himself by biting his lip. "Arthur, it's Arthur."
He could have easily given you a fake name, but he chose not to. You know how he looks, you have your ring back, and you still have your gun pointed at him. Right now, you're holding all the cards, most of them because he freely gave them to you. 
"Come over here," you say, sounding much more in control than you feel. Arthur considers you for a moment, but then he comes closer, and you step back into an alley that goes by your house. "Closer."
"I hope you're not planning on shooting me," he says, but follows you anyway.
"Would you beg for your life?"
"No," he says, and you know it to be true. He might do as you say, but it's his choice. He doesn't fear you or your gun. It makes matters even more exciting.
Your heart pounds faster at the thought what you're about to do. It's madness, but that's what makes it so appealing. You point your gun to the ground. "On your knees. Right here."
Again, Arthur considers you for a moment, but then he walks over without pause, falling to his knees, right into the dirt at your feet. The sight of him as he looks up to you is intoxicating, and you feel the warmth growing between your legs. "You'll do exactly as I say or I'll shoot. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
"Lift up my skirt," you say, and Arthur keeps looking at your face while his hands reach for the fabric without hesitation. As he lifts it up, you can feel the cold air around your legs, making you shiver slightly. 
You use your free hand to stick your skirt into your belt, keeping it in place. Then you nod to Arthur. "Pull down my underwear."
You had partners undress you before, but giving the orders turns you on more than you thought. Arthur does as you say, but his head is down, and you miss his intense gaze. You reach down and tip your fingers against his chin. "Eyes up here, cowboy."
Arthur looks up, and despite the dim light, you think that he's blushing a little bit. You can't believe that he's that innocent, but right now, the sight does wonders to the heat in your lower belly. Even worse is the thought of how this must look for someone who walks by. You're more exposed than you've ever been in your life, but having Arthur in front of you like this makes you feel powerful at the same time. 
You take Arthur's hat, putting it on your own head before fisting your fingers into his hair. As you pull him closer, you whisper: "Now, if you want us to be even, you better do a good job."
Arthur keeps looking up to you, his cheeks even more flushed. "Yes, ma'am."
If you weren't already burning, his obedient tone might do the trick. Eager to finally get what you want, you force his face between your legs. 
At first, Arthur's tender, brushing his lips over your skin as if he's kissing your mouth. It takes all your willpower not to push him further, and it pays off. The kissing and nibbling arouse you more and more and the first time his hot tongue brushes over you, it feels like a stroke from a whip, hitting deep into your core. 
You put away the gun, needing your hand free to hold on to a nearby post. Arthur doesn't notice. He keeps licking you with long, hot strokes before dipping the tip of his tongue between your lips. For a moment, you feel embarrassed about how wet you are, but then Arthur moans between your legs. "Jesus, girl," he curses before diving back in.
His eagerness spurs you on to move, and you roll your hips, grinding against Arthur's face. You try your best not to be too rough, but Arthur keeps moaning, uncaring if anybody hears it. Then he begins to shift his legs, and as you look down, you can see the bulge between his legs. You let him wiggle for a moment, before putting your boot right between his legs.
Arthur stops moving immediately, his deep breaths the only sound in the narrow alley. You move just enough that your boot touches him, but without any pressure. "I wouldn't move too much if I were you," you tease. "After all, we won't want you to get too comfortable, right?"
"Right, miss," Arthur breathes, "of course."
"Back to work then, honey."
You still have your hand in Arthur's hair, but you don't need to push him. He buries himself between your legs, his soft beard brushing along your thighs as he licks and sucks as if his life depends on it. You wish you could give him more orders, but all you can focus on is the tension building up between your legs. 
At first, you don't even notice how Arthur's hand glides from your body upwards, but then he carefully cups your breast with his large hand, knitting the soft flesh. When you don't object, he gets more daring. With his thumb, he keeps rubbing the same spot until your nipple stands up, pressing through the thin fabric.
While his tongue dives into you, he squeezes your nipple between his fingers. Your hips buck, and this time it's you who can't hold in a moan. His hand moves to your other breast, and you can feel his other hand against your leg. It slowly rides up with a firm grip as if he wants you to know what he's doing. You have a chance to stop him, but no intention to do so.
Arthur leans back a bit, his tongue dragging over your clit in slow strokes. Then he runs his fingers along your folds, getting them wet. He moves one finger deeper inside, still giving you an out. Instead, you push down on it, making him grown. No longer teasing, he adds a second finger, sliding in and out of you at a slow pace. 
Not for long, though. Your insides are burning, and with the way Arthur teases all your weak spots, there's no chance you can hold on much longer. Desperate to feel more, you tighten your grip on his hair and hold on to him while grinding over his face. Without meaning to, your boot pushes down a little, and after an initial curse, Arthur moves under you, rubbing against your boot. 
He keeps moaning between your legs, each sound spurring you on even more. He no longer has a chance to do much but hold on to you. You use his fingers and face as you please, bringing yourself closer and closer to the edge. When you can feel that you're about to come, you press Arthur so close that he can't breathe. His sounds are muffled, and he struggles to move but can't escape. Having that power over him is all that you need, and you come so hard that your whole body shakes. 
You hold on to Arthur for just a moment longer, and his hands grip your thighs as if he wants to push you off, but ops to dig into your flesh instead. Then his body goes rigid, and you pull back his head to see his face as he comes himself, his cock twitching under your boot. It can't be comfortable, but he moans like any whore you ever heard, hips bucking till he's all spent.
You finally let go off him and hold on to the wall behind you instead. Both of you take your time to just breathe for a while. Then you pull out a handkerchief and hand it to him. There's no use cleaning yourself up with it. You're so wet, you can feel your juice smeared all over your thighs, so you just pull down your dress.
Arthur is cleaning himself up, still on his knees. It's strange to look at him. You know nothing about him, but after what just happened, you can hardly call him a stranger. 
He holds up the handkerchief for you to take, his gaze almost bashful. "Are we even now?"
"Yes," you say, not able to tease him anymore, "we're even."
You put away the handkerchief and offer Arthur your hand to get up. He's heavy, not quite able to stand yet, so he leans against the wall next to you. After a quick glance at his pants, he looks over to you. "You're an evil woman."
"Am I?" you say, laughing.
He nods. "Wish I would have met you years ago."
You take a look at his pants as well and regret that you didn't really see him come. Arthur catches your eye and winks at you as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. You quickly look away, trying not to blush, and your eyes move further down.
"Since I made you kneel down in the dirt, how about you come inside and clean yourself up," you suggest. "This is my house right here."
"You want me to come inside?" Arthur says, a nasty grin playing around his lips.
You hit his shoulder but nod. "As long as you don't steal anything."
"Wouldn't dream of it. Promise."
"Go on then, cowboy," you say, moving your hand to the handle of your gun.
Arthur lifts up his hands and walks in front of you as if you're holding him at gunpoint. It gives you an excellent chance to check out the goods from behind, and boy, do you like what you're seeing. 
This is going to be a long night. 
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ahtohallan-calling · 4 years
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chapter 2 of don’t read the last page is here!
[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]
3
Anna sat back far sooner than she wanted to; she could have gone on kissing him like this for hours, but that was a capital B capital I Bad Idea. And so she pulled regretfully away with the dainty little laugh she'd perfected in undergrad, not in acting classes but backstage when the guys playing opposite her sometimes got the wrong idea.
"But it feels so real when I'm up there with you," they'd plead, and she'd do the little laugh and say "God, I should hope so, considering how expensive tuition is here. Good to hear my investment is paying off.”
Kristoff didn't seem as thrown off by the laugh as the others had been; he just leaned back a little and raised his eyebrows. She'd forgotten how he had a funny way of looking at a person that made you want to just open right up and spill it all out.
But she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to spill right now, and so she went the opposite direction, closing off even further. "Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way, we can stop wondering about the past and focus on the here and now. Specifically, whether you want that last spring roll or not."
There was a wounded look in the depths of his dark eyes. Good; better now than later. He gave her a familiar crooked smile anyway. "You already ate the other two."
"So you're saying you want it?"
"I'm saying I always liked egg rolls better, but I knew these used to be your favorite, so that's why I got them."
For a moment she wavered, caught between what she wanted and what she knew she should do, but his eyes stayed steady on hers all the same, still that faint hurt hiding in them. It would be awfully easy to fall in love with those eyes.
She moved away, scooting to sit beside him again where he leaned up against the couch. “So,” she said, reaching for the last spring roll and taking a messy bite, “still up to help me run lines?”
Kristoff nodded. “‘Course. Can’t say I’ll be up to par, though, I haven’t acted since our American Lit days.”
“Oh my god, I forgot you were John Proctor! ‘You’re tearing down heaven and raising up a whore’-- and everyone freaked out because they thought Mr. Martin would be pissed you didn’t leave out the cuss word but he was just like…”
She waved her hands emphatically, trying to come up with the right word. “Like...you know. You remember. He thought it was awesome, is what I mean.”
“Honestly, I don’t. I was so embarrassed I was just trying not to pass out.”
She remembered that, the way he’d turned scarlet all the way to the tips of his ears, and she wanted to kiss him again, at least on the cheek to see if she could make him blush like that again, but instead she popped the rest of the spring roll into her mouth and wiped her hands on her jeans and said around a mouthful of cabbage, “Okay, let me get this script.”
Her bag was kicked halfway under the table; she yanked it out, sending loose papers and pens rolling everywhere. “Ah-- shit, sorry.”
He scooped up the pens and handed them to her in a neat bundle while she shuffled through the papers. “God, you’d think they’d do me a favor one of these days and staple these things...anyway, okay, here’s the right order.”
Anna patted the edges neatly into place and presented the script to him. “Don’t let me peek at it, even if I beg. Oh-- and don’t tell anyone about it, either, because I don’t remember or not if I had to sign an NDA or not this time around, and I’d rather not risk it.”
He took the stack of papers with a raised eyebrow. “Okay. So who am I playing?”
“I’m a princess of some country they made up in Europe, and you’re the American journalist trying to kickstart his career assigned to cover me at the start of my...debutante something or other. Basically, I’m supposed to get married off to a prince or something, but then you come along and run into me by mistake outside the palace, and you’re super funny and down-to-earth and it’s this forbidden romance and blah blah blah, at the end I pick you but because for some reason it’s a Christmas movie I still keep the crown, too, and then you kiss me under the mistletoe and voila, roll credits. Oh, and you’re supposed to be from Georgia, so try and do that accent if you can.”
He screwed up his face, trying to-- well, honestly she didn’t know what he was doing. “Y’all--”
“Oh, god, please stop,” she said, putting a hand over his mouth with a dramatic shudder. His breath was warm against her palm as he chuckled. He was making it really hard to do the right thing, which was especially disconcerting considering he wasn’t even trying. 
She fought the urge to stroke her thumb gently against his jaw and instead pulled her hand away. “Just read it like your normal self.”
“Do you want me to try and like...act?”
“Um...if you want to, yeah. Mainly I’m worried about memorizing this. But that’d probably help, so...go for it. Unless it’s weird, in which case--”
“You don’t look like you’re from around here,” he said, and it took her a beat to realize he was reading.
She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, slipping into the posh British accent they always wanted you to do for these parts even when the movie was set somewhere vaguely north of Switzerland. “Neither do you.”
“What gave it away? The accent or the cowboy boots?”
Kristoff glanced up from the script, looking vaguely nauseated. “Are people really going to watch this?”
“Tragically, yes, because it’s another Netflix thing, and it’ll get all hyped up whether it really deserves it or not.”
“Jesus,” he muttered. “This is why I stick to my DVD player.”
“You do not.”
He just raised an eyebrow, and she gasped. “Kristoff Bjorgman. You are not seriously telling me that in two thousand nineteen you still don’t have a Netflix subscription.”
“I think my roommate does.”
“Well, that basically counts as yours, then.”
“Why?”
“Well, you know, all the password-sharing and--”
She trailed off. By the look in his eyes, he actually didn’t know. “Well-- never mind. Say your line again so I can do mine.”
“What gave it away? The accent or the cowboy boots?”
“Neither.”
“Then what was it?”
She held the silence for a beat, staring deeply into his eyes, practicing her best you-mean-you-really-don’t-recognize-me face? He returned the gaze with an astonishingly good what-is-this-girl-up-to-and-why-am-I-already-into-her face, and either he’d gotten much better at acting in the last few years, or she really shouldn’t have kissed him even that one time, because there was no way that for either of them it would mean--
“Nothing,” she breathed, the line suddenly jolting its way out of her mouth. “I’m just good at reading people.”
They went back and forth through the script, and to her surprise, he didn’t give in even once when she begged him to let her peek at the lines, even when she tried to bribe him with the last dumpling. “No, Anna, you know this,” he’d said calmly, and then suddenly she had, and they’d gone right along. 
The dialogue was still edging dangerously close to falling straight off a cliff into too-cringy-for-Hallmark territory, but somehow when she was reading it with him, it seemed almost-- almost-- plausible.
Except for that bit about the cowboy boots. That was unforgivable. 
She took a sip of Pepsi and flopped back against the sofa, glad she didn’t have to keep looking at him anymore. Not that there was a problem with the view; it was a nice one, if she was being honest, maybe even a very nice one, but that little bit of sadness still hadn’t melted entirely away, and she knew she wouldn’t forgive herself for putting it there for a long time. 
It’s for the best, she reminded herself fiercely. You know you’re a mess. Don’t need to drag him into it just for old times’ sake. 
Beside her, Kristoff let out a yawn. “Oh, shit, sorry--” she said, suddenly scrambling upright, “didn’t mean to keep you up late or--”
“No, no, you’re good, it‘s only eight. I just was working a double today, got up earlier than normal.”
She bit her lip. He hadn’t made mention of that when he’d volunteered to let her come over and read lines. “I-- well. Thanks, Kristoff, so much. For your help and for letting me hang out here for a while. Let me help you clean up and then I’ll head out.”
She hopped to her feet, already collecting discarded chopsticks and napkins, trying to ignore the frown on Kristoff’s face. “Seriously, Kris, you’re a lifesaver. The audition is tomorrow, and I did my best to prepare but honestly, I just had to do a stupid radio interview about the tampon commercial so I could get an easy paycheck because I owe my sister way too much money right now so that’s what I was worried about yesterday and then before that, I was looking at other auditions online too because I feel like my agent just has to be hiding some from me but then hey it was today and the audition’s tomorrow and so I was screwed if I didn’t get help and--”
“Anna.”
She froze.
He got to his feet slowly; she let her eyes trail up his broad frame, taking in every inch of him. Had he hit another growth spurt in college? 
He held out his hand, and for an absurd moment she thought he meant for her to take it, but then he plucked some of the garbage out of her grasp and led her towards the kitchen, pressing the garbage can open with his foot. “I know it’s been a while,” he said, his voice soft but somehow insistent, “but we’re still friends. I’m happy to help you however I can.”
Anna swallowed hard and forced herself to look away at the decidedly less attractive sight of a half-eaten fortune cookie tumbling into the garbage. “Well-- thanks.”
He nodded, and now that her hands were empty it was so tempting to just grab him by the collar and pull him down into another kiss, reality be damned. So she was a complete mess and he had his life together and she was terrible at relationships and he was probably, like, amazing-- what could it hurt, one more kiss?
But she’d only just run into him again, and she shouldn’t have lost contact with him in the first place, and she really didn’t want to lose him again. You only get so many friends willing to share their apple slices with you every day even though apples are their favorite and you take more than your fair share of the peanut butter, she thought morosely. Can’t just waste someone like that.
She brushed past him and swept the script into her bag, tugging it back on over her shoulders and turning to him with a practiced smile. He hadn’t moved; just let his gaze follow her. “Well, guess I’d better be getting home, then.”
“Need a ride?”
Shit-- she’d forgotten he’d driven her over here right after he’d gotten off work, and the metro line she needed had no stops near here, so it’d be at least an hour getting home, and she didn’t really have money for a taxi but if she got in a car with him again, there would definitely be more kissing, and she just really, really couldn’t do that to him.
“I’m good, thanks! I’ll just get an Uber or something.”
He nodded. “Night, then. Good catching up with you.”
“You, too. Thanks again.”
Her heart was pounding as she slipped out the door. She found herself waiting for some idiotic reason to hear the deadbolt click shut and his footsteps walk away until they faded into silence. God, this was pathetic, even for her. She’d always been awful about jumping into things head first, especially when it came to men, and that had never once actually worked out for her. Which was how she’d ended up majoring in theatre and not even doing any education classes alongside it, and moving into her sister’s place just because it was in LA even though she couldn’t afford her share of the rent, and dating a string of guys who were too into pop-up shops or vaping or Soundcloud rap or whatever the big thing was at the moment, and now, apparently, kissing her high school best friend who definitely deserved better than whatever she was right now.
She made her way down the stairs, dialing her sister’s number already. She picked up on the second ring, just like always.
“Anna? Hey, what is it?”
“Can you pick me up?”
“What’s wrong?”
That was what did her in. She found a bush by the sidewalk and crouched down behind it, feeling the tears already start to stream down her face. “Can you-- can you just come pick me up, please?”
One of the perks of having a big sister who actually had her shit together was free pickup and dropoff service all around the city, though unlike an Uber, the rides didn’t come with no questions asked.
“What are you doing all the way over here?” Elsa asked as Anna clambered into the car, still sniffling pitifully. “I thought you were just going to go study your lines at that coffee shop and then go to the grocery.”
“I was, but then I, um…I ran into Kristoff.”
Elsa frowned. “Should I know who that-- oh my god, Kristoff from high school? The one that you had a crush on for like…”
“Years, I know,” Anna said balefully. “God, I probably still have notebooks in storage full of Mrs. Bjorgman signatures.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“He’s a barista.”
“Isn’t everyone?”
She laughed a little at that, and some of the tension went out of Elsa’s shoulders. “Okay, fair. But he’s in vet school, too.”
“Oh, wow, impressive.”
“I know. Just imagine me trying to go back home for a visit now, they’ll all ask questions about you two and I’ll be like ‘oh, Elsa’s this super successful SLP and Kristoff’s gonna be a vet’ and then they’ll ask what I’m up to and I’ll have to say ‘doing cartwheels in a commercial where they taped some string to my shorts so it looks like my tampon’s hanging out because that’s supposed to be cute and quirky’ and then they’ll say ‘oh my god I think I saw a GIF of that’ and then I’ll have to go dig myself a hole and die in it.”
Elsa just rolled her eyes. She was used to these dramatic tirades. “Anna, you’re twenty-four. You’re not supposed to have your shit together yet.”
“You did.”
“I let you think I did,” her sister said in that infuriating older-and-wiser voice she’d perfected way back in middle school. “I’m serious, you’ll be okay. And whatever happened with Kristoff--”
“God, don’t say his name, please, or I’ll just get all worked up again, and I’ve already gotten mascara everywhere.”
Elsa sighed. “Okay, fine, we’ll save that part of this discussion for when we’re home with pints of Ben and Jerry’s. But just...I want you to know that you’re okay, Anna. More than okay. And you’re going to knock it out of the park with this audition tomorrow. I mean it.”
Anna looked away, rolling down the window and sticking her hand out so she could feel the wind smacking against it, turning her wrist so it could hiss between her fingers. Movies made it seem so much easier to have these moments with someone, to open up and cry it out and get an easy resolution. But this was her life, whether she liked it or not, and she had to put up with it anyhow. “Thanks.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
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hopeaterart · 3 years
Text
I’m gonna be there Chapter 17
Do not be fooled by the fact that this is a breather chapter between two major events: there’s a lot going on here. (If someone correctly guesses who Kakyoin is talking about when he mentions someone nice working for Dio, I will make them a drawing of their choice.)
“WAKEY WAKEY, COWBOY MAN!” SPLASH!
Hol Horse woke up with a yell, his wrist restrained behind him and his ankles tied to the front legs of a chair. He slowly looked around. Miss Holly and Polnareff were there, the blond woman standing up in front of him and the frenchman leaning on a wall, a tall girl with goggles on her head standing next to him. There was also a short man standing behind Holly, a bucket in his hands.
“So, Hol Horse, is it?” The short man asked, tilting his head to the side as he came closer. “I want you to give me one good reason why I shouldn’t slit your throat here and now.”
The cowboy laughed nervously. “You’re bluffin-”
“He’s not.”
“He’s not.”
“He’s not.”
“I’m not.”
“So now that we’ve established that my husband would not hesitate to get rid of you,” Holly started, narrowing her eyes. “Maybe you’ll be willing to answer a few questions-”
“SIS! I’M BACK! AND I BROUGHT DONUTS!” A cheerful voice sounded out in the house, making Holly flinch in surprise.
“I- Alright, Joey!” Holly yelled back. “I’m busy with something right now! If Joriko needs help with her homework, can you help her?”
“Sure thing!” Holly nodded to herself, turning back toward the cow-boy.
“As I was saying, I have a few questions for you. They’re about Dio.”
““L- look, I dunno where Dio came from, or what he has against you people, aight?” Hol Horse started, brows furrowed. “All I know is that he’s payin’ me a huge amount of money to kill ya and yer son.”
“That doesn’t explain why you were working with the scumbag that killed my little sister!” Polnareff snapped.
Hol Horse looked confused for a moment, but all it took was the girl next to him cracking her knuckles to get him to spill. “I- I didn’ wanna work with him at first. I have standards, for Christ’ sake!” He momentarily snapped, Holly narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
“Then why were you working with him?”
“Because my Emperor isn’t really good on it’s own.” He started, shrugging. “But works almost perfectly in conjunction with Hanged Man. If we had both been inside, the fight would’ve gone differently, and we would already be collecting our reward.”
“Wrong: if you had won that fight, I would’ve killed the both of you with a kitchen knife upon coming back home, especially if I had found my wife dishonored.” The short man hissed.
“... Okay, who are you?”
“Kujo Sadao.”
“As in the jazz musician!?”
“I am the jazz musician.” He deadpanned. “And I’d like you to focus on the ‘married to Holly and father of Jotaro’ part.”
Holly was about to add something, when suddenly: “MOM! WE’RE BACK! ” Another voice sounded out this one much deeper, Holly sighing this time.
“I- I’m a little busy right now, Jotaro. Your uncle brought back donuts, if you’re hungry.” She yelled back.
“Can we order pizza for dinner? Noriaki-kun wants pizza.”
“I do want pizza!” Kakyoin added from the other end of the house.
“I want pizza too.” Polnareff admitted, both Sadao and the tall girl nodding.
“Alright, order pizza then!”
“Remember, no mushrooms! I can’t eat that shit.” Sadao yelled, Jotaro answering affirmatively.
“So...” Hol Horse started, gesturing with his head to the younger woman in the room. “Who are you?”
“Kujo Jojimi, Jotaro’s cousin.” She answered blankly, Hol Horse nodding.
“Alright... family’s way bigger than I thought.” He muttered under his breath. “If I had known, I would’ve asked for something bigger...”
Holly suddenly raised her head, turning toward Hol Horse. “How much is Dio paying you for our heads?”
“Uh? I... about fifty grand each. American dollars”
“What do you think of five hundred thousand to leave us alone, then? American dollars, of course.” The woman proposed, baffling the cowboy.
“Uh, Holly?” Sadao hesitantly started. “You do know that five hundred thousand dollars is roughly five million yens, right?”
“And we can pay for it.” Holly reassured him. “At worst, I’ll convince papa we need some money.”
“Lady.” Hol Horse finally spoke up. “If you give me 5 hundred thousand, I’ll help you kill the fuckin’ vampire.”
“... Well, that’s settled!” Holly cheerfully declared, clapping her hands together and turning toward Sadao. “Dear, could you untie him?”
Sadao nodded, untying the cowboy and helping him stand up. “Alright, thanks, but...” Hol Horse started awkwardly just as he rubbed his wrist. “Where am I gonna be sleepin’?”
And just like that, Sadao’s urge to run the cowboy over with his car was back.
-
“Alright, so...” Sadao started, visibly tired. “Jojimi and Joriko will go back to their house with Hol Horse.” He started. “They’re going to call Daisuke to stay with them to make sure he” the musician pointed at the cowboy “doesn’t try anything. As for here, Polnareff-san will stay in the living room, and Joey can stay in the first guest room. As for Kakyoin-kun, he will go back in the second guest room. Any question?”
“Yeah- how come I have to stay in the living room?” Polnareff asked, frowning. “I mean, when your nieces were living there, you set up your office to let Kakyoin have some private space. Why can’t I have that!?”
“You can leave whenever you want. I can’t.” Kakyoin told him, shrugging.
“Also, I’m pretty sure my sister considers you to be her second child at this point...” Joey muttered under his breath.
“Well, I’m not leaving anytime soon!” Polnareff declared. “The Kujos have freed me from my brainwashing and Holly helped me take revenge for Sherry! The least I can do is help them defend themselves against Dio!”
Holly smiled. “Thank you, Jean-Pierre.”
“Uh... we’re gonna go pack our things.” Jojimi told the rest of the family, who all nodded as she and Joriko started to exit the room. “Hol Horse-san? Please go wait by the door.”
“Of course, little lady.” The cowboy stated, starting to get up before having his wrist grabbed. He turned, toward the person, who turned out to be Sadao. “What?”
“I just want to make things clear.” Sadao started, raising up and dragging Hol Horse to his eye level. “If so much as a whisper of a hair out of place on either of niece’s head reaches my ears? I will fucking ruin your life, and make sure you regret ever stepping foot in Japan, and you will forever fear the name Kujo Sadao. Understood?”
“... So bein’ terrifying runs in the family, eh?”
“Yes, and I’m serious. Hurt my nieces, and I’ll do to you what I did to the rests of my agents.” Sadao bluntly told the cowboy, letting him go and then sitting back down.
“What... happened to the rest of his agents?” Hol Horse asked, turning toward Jotaro as the delinquent got up.
“Google it up, shitlord. I’m going outside for a smoke.” Jotaro told his parents as he left the room, shrugging his school coat off. He normally kept it on as log as possible for comfort, but the temperature was getting too high for him.
He groaned as he came into the backyard, the temperature somehow higher outside. Why the hell was it so hot!? They were in the middle of December! He groaned, sitting down and lighting himself a cigarette, trying to process everything that had happened in the last few weeks. He didn’t notice Kakyoin he came to sit down next to him, the redhead sighing. “God, it feels like an oven in here.”
Jotaro nodded. “Yeah.” He turned toward the sun, covering his eyes. “Is it normal for the temperature to rise when the sun looks bright?”
“The sun is supposed to be... bright...” The redhead trailed off, looking at the courtyard with a frown. Something seemed... off.
Kakyoin gasped in realization, tapping Jotaro on the shoulder. The delinquent turned toward him, frowning. “What?”
“That spot over there...” He pointed at a tree in the garden. “Is it me or are the shadows wrong?”
Jotaro squinted, before his eyes widened in realization. He groaned. “Yeah, no shit, that tree wasn’t even there before-” He picked up a rock on the ground, standing up as he did so. “I can see you, bitch!” He then threw the rock, and the very air shattered like glass.
Kakyoin sighed in relief when the sun lessened in brightness, the sudden heatwave going away with it. “Looks like the user of the Sun Stand was out and about. Oh well, third Stand user to be taken out in a day. Should take a while for others to show up, so I’m not going to complain.”
“How many?”
“... uh?”
“How many are there left? Of Dio’s henchmen.” Jotaro asked, sitting back down and looking at Kakyoin.
The redhead sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing most of these people. I- I think he’s just hiring bounty hunters, right now. No point in sending his best underlings when we haven’t done anything to hinder him, after all.”
“Yeah, but it’s starting.” Jotaro stated with slight panic in his tone. “You... you said it yourself: the mother of the guy Polnareff killed today is really close to Dio.” He buried his face in his hands. “I... I’m scared.”
Kakyoin blinked, before gently taking one of Jotaro’s hand away from his face, the taller boy turning to look at him. “It’ll be okay. Don’t ask me how I know, it’s just- I just know, you guys make me feel safe. As for Dio’s henchmen...” The redhead seemed deep in thought for a moment “I think the rest of the Tarot might show up, and I think I remember... nine plus one. There’s ten people that work close to Dio. Maybe a few more people that are with him for the same reason Polnareff and I were. There’s also someone else who lives with him, but I’m not sure. The few times I’ve interacted with him stand out in my memory, but it’s because he’s... nice.”
“Wait. Dio attracts kind people?” Jotaro frowned in confusion. “I thought only, like, evil and fucked up people would work for him.”
Kakyoin shrugged. “I mean, something was definitely fucked up about that guy. I thought he was faking it, first time he helped me.”
“Was he?”
“Well, I ended up walking on him having sex with Dio, so take a guess.” Kakyoin deadpanned. Jotaro hummed, looking at his hand still in the redhead’s before sighing.
“What... what did Dio do to you for you to want to kill him?” The redhead froze, an expression of pure terror on his face. “You- you don’t have to tell me, it’s just-”
“I... he hurt me.” Kakyoin choked out. “He abducted me from my life, my parents, stripped me of all power over myself, made me feel powerless, used me for his own twisted amusement.” The redhead’s laughed at that, but it sounded more like sobbing. “I want him to suffer- I need him to suffer. I want to hold his less than worthless life in my hands and twist until it breaks!” He snapped.
Kakyoin then gasped, and sent an hesitant look at Jotaro, as if he was afraid of his reaction. But the taller teenager just nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. You should be the one who gets to kill him.”
“... what?”
“I don’t want to kill anyone, mom doesn’t like violence- she doesn’t hate it either, she’s just... neutral toward it- and I’m pretty sure that if my life wasn’t in danger, dad wouldn’t give a fuck.” Jotaro explained, shrugging. “If anyone should get the satisfaction of killing that bastard it’s you, Noriaki-kun.”
Kakyoin sighed, a small smile on his lips as he put his head on Jotaro’s shoulder. “Thank you, Jotaro-kun.”
-
Dio took his hand off the crystal ball, the Stand that was supposed to belong to Jonathan retracting back inside of wherever Stands lived. “And there you have it. Your son was killed by Jean-Pierre Polnareff, and Holly Joestar. As for Hol Horse, he has betrayed us.”
The bloody old woman growled. “How dare they... my perfect son... and with dirty tricks like that... I must avenge him!” She snapped. Dio raised a consterned eyebrow.
“You want to go after the Joestar now? After they took out every member of the Tarot order you sent after them?” Well, almost all of them. Gray Fly got taken out before he could make it to Japan in a plane crash, ironically enough.
“It doesn’t matter! I, Enya, SHALL KILL THEM ALL!” The old woman exclaimed as she ran off, the vampire calculating her chances in his head. She might have easily been able to take them down before, but now? As it now was, Enya stood no chance. Dio sighed. What a shame, she had been quite useful to him...
“Lord Dio?” The blond vampire turned toward the voice, smiling as Jude came into view, wrapped in a blanket. The purple-haired boy was good with technology (those times were so advanced, technologically speaking, that Dio had to admit to himself there was no way he could catch up alone), had info on a... infuriating organization that seemed to be after him, and was a good lay.
“Come here, dollface.” The slender man approached Dio, settling down next to him and cuddling up at his arm, the vampire carding his claws through the choppy hair. “I need you to call one of my bounty hunters...”
-
“You’re still watching them?”
“Well, someone has to keep an eye on them, and since Joseph is kept out of that particular loop...”
“... Okay? Say, Viola? Wouldn’t it be easier to just... help them in person, instead of spying on them?”
“I know, Ros. I just... it’s been so long, I don’t know if I can. I suppose I could get Hills or Nicole to go check on them in person, since they’re already in the country...”
“Aren’t they busy tracking down the Arrow that bloodsucking joto hid over there?”
“Urgh, you’re right... do you have any ideas?”
“Uh... yeah: we go to the Kujo house, you drop me there, you give them a lie, and promptly fuck off while I help them fend off bicho’s bounty hunters. Thoughts?”
“No. Out of everyone, you’re the one I want to put in danger the least-”
Riing~ Riing~ Rii-
“Yes hello?”
“... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...”
“Really? Which one?”
“... ...”
“... Oh. I see. Thank you.” click. “It seems there’s been a change of plan, and you’re coming with me.”
“Wait- we’re actually going to help-”
“Yes. Start packing your baggage, Rosaura: we’re going to Japan!”
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elopez7228 · 4 years
Text
Scenic Route 8/47
Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774 
Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147
***
After finishing her cheese burger, (No, please, no more refills) Rey called Jessica. She had to lie about the details of her setbacks and the circumstances that had led her to haul a dog on a 3,500 kilometer road trip. She explained that she had loaned a car and was improvising from there. Yes, she was doing better. Yes, morale was high for now. No, she hadn’t run into any guns or cowboys (yet), but she had seen buffalos (from afar) and the scenery was absolutely beautiful. Alright, she would send pictures.
Placing the phone in front of her, she smiled as innocently as possible at the front camera and hit “send” on the photo.
Everything was fine on Betterton Street according to Jessica. Finn and Poe had been talking the talk, they apparently spent an entire afternoon discussing Rey-drunk-in-the-street and Ben-the-tall-dark-mystery-man. They unanimously wanted to know:  who  was this guy and what was the  nature  of their  relationship ?
Rey rolled her eyes. He wasn’t anyone in particular. He was a random fellow from Denver who was both attractive and repulsive, but in his defense they had started off on the wrong foot, that’s all.
“No, Jess, I didn’t sleep with him. But if you think it’s hilarious that Finn believes I did, go ahead and have fun with it. You can tell him that I spent a night of passion with Ben Solo, rockstar and lead singer of KYLO & THE KNIGHTS OF REN. That way he’ll realize that I don’t miss him and that I’m doing just fine without him. And if he gets jealous—even better. Ask him how he thought I felt when I imagined him in bed with Poe.”
She ended the call there.
She finished her fries, covering the top of her glass with her palm to stop the waitress from refilling it again (had they gone mad here?) as she scrolled through her phone lazily. She was feeling nice and comfy in this 50s style greasy spoon—with its abundance of zinc, black and white tiled floors and red and pink neon signs. There was WiFi and air conditioning, and she balked at the idea of returning to her oven of a car.
Her finger traced over the selfie she had just taken. Her cheeks were rosy and her eye bags less prominent, how many days had she managed without crying? In the background sat a tall blonde woman in a buzz cut, looking straight in her direction.
Photobomb,  Rey thought glumly. But the woman’s piercing blue gaze was locked onto the camera, as if by design. As if they were both looking at the same thing. Rey turned around to see if she was still there. She wasn’t.
A family of four were helping themselves to a small basket of nuggets. At the counter, a lone diner in jeans and a tank top sipped on a drink.
Shrugging, she pocketed her phone and tapped her palms against her thighs to get BB8’s attention. BB was also taking advantage of the air conditioning as she layed stretched out underneath the table. She got up clumsily once Rey gently tugged on her collar.
It was time to hit the road again, they could manage a few hundred kilometers by nightfall. The vast land sprawled in front of Rey’s eyes once more, set to the particular rock rhythm of Kylo & the Knights. Little by little, their surroundings transformed into the desert. Yellow earth littered with spiny shrubs and cacti.
She passed Rock Springs at 2:30 PM, taken by the frankly apocalyptic view.
Columns of smoke billowed overhead, likely from mines or factories. Rusted trucks rolled by. It was a sprawling urban hellscape straight out of Mad Max. The empty mountain side inspired a certain sort of fantasy—it gave new meaning to “the hills have eyes”.
A few more kilometers to the west and she would have hit Utah. But Rey deviated to the north. As she approached the crest of the hill, she was stupefied. She had stumbled upon Eden Valley, surrounded by forest and freshwater rivers. Rey was slack-jawed. She hadn’t seen this much green since she left England. The feeling was almost spiritual and she could feel her eyes watering.
A few hours later, after two bathroom breaks for the dog and a mini-walk, they crossed city limits into Jackson Hole. It was a ski resort town. Nestled at the foot of the green slopes, the town was the perfect summertime spot for hiking tours, hunters, and weary Yellowstone travelers. The hotels were pricey and the food was mediocre at best but it didn’t seem to matter.
She obtained a camping spot just outside the city at Curtis Canyon Campground. BB8 wandered as Rey set up the tent and her mattress for the night. Having unloaded the bulk of her belongings from the car, she was finally able to notice an inscription on the mat lining the boot: “MILLENIUM FALCON”. She smiled. Didn’t all pilots give their baby a name? This old hunk of junk had just won her over.
And so Rey piloted the re-baptized Millennium Falcon into the city in search of dinner. She parked the car in the heart of town, taking a selfie in front of a massive wooden archway decorated solely with deer antlers, then made her way into a noisy yet poorly-lit bar.
Seated at the counter, she ordered a light beer and a Caesar salad while she texted Jessica. She attached the selfie she snapped in the adjoining room.
And then she saw the shadow.  What the hell?
She zoomed in on her screen, heart pounding. A blurry silhouette stood a few meters behind her—the same woman with cropped blonde hair.
No way, I must be seeing things.
Rey looked up from her phone and scanned her surroundings. Any second now, she would see the mysterious woman in the room. But she didn’t.
I must be imagining all this.
But the doubt crept in. She did her best to bottle the anxiety, to think of something else. But the question remained—who was this woman? Was this just a coincidence? After all, she had followed the typical route from Denver to Yellowstone and Penny’s Diner had been pretty much exactly in the middle of the way...other travelers could have stopped there for lunch too, it was totally plausible.
She scarfed down her salad, still deep in though. A woman offered to buy her a drink but she politely declined.
Afterwards, she placed some cash on the bar-top and thanked the bartender. Her heart was pounding again as she went out onto the street, there was a gut feeling she just couldn’t shake. She turned the corner to get to the car and—
“Hey! What are you doing?!”
A tall woman,  the same one with the short blonde hair, was leaning over her car door and tugging at the handle. She jumped at Rey’s tone, scrambling away.
Rey felt icy beads of sweat slide down her spine. She hadn’t been imagining anything, she  knew  something was off. So much for coincidence. Furious, she marched over to the woman and raised her voice even more:  
"Are you trying to break into my car? I'm going to call the police!"
The woman held her hands up in the universal gesture of innocence. "Well excuse me, I just thought it was mine. There's no need to make a big deal," she said simply.
" Really ? You also happen to have a dingy 1977 Oldsmobile with handpainted brown paneling on the front? Are you fucking kidding me?"
Screaming like a fury helped Rey cover up her insecurity. Why was this woman following her? What was she up to?
BB8 was barking furiously at the woman too, and Rey noted to congratulate her later. She had caught on very quickly.
The woman rolled her eyes and turned on her heels, turning the corner and disappearing into the street. Rey followed her, red-faced, before deciding to let her go.
She reconsidered calling the police as she held her phone once more. Who would believe her story? Some girl from Britain being chased by a mystery woman for 800 kilometers, a futile attempt to steal a car that didn't leave a scratch? They would surely laugh at her. She was wasting time. She had to move on by herself.
All those who bore witness to this altercation in the town square quickly turned away. They avoided the seething girl with the English accent and hastily took their leave.
Rey, heart racing and temples pulsing, bent down to pet BB8 in praise. BB was still in attack mode--growling and baring her teeth.
"Bravo, BB8. You did it, you protected me, good girl. That's a good girl,"
BB yelped and licked her nose.
"Come on, let's go. But first, I'll have to buy you a treat."
Google indicated there was an Albertson's grocery store that closed at midnight on Buffalo Way. There, she bought fried chicken bites for BB8 and cookies for herself. For breakfast...and dessert. Okay, she bought two packets of them. It was high time for some comfort food.
Something on the bulletin board just outside the store (boasting public service announcements and local yard sales) caught Rey's eye. It was a flyer that she read twice to make sure she wasn't mistaken.
KYLO & THE KNIGHTS OF REN
WEST TOUR
A sticker on the flyer displayed upcoming show dates at Jackson Hole.
The Mangy Moose, July 5th
She grimaced. She was driving around  randomly in an area that was roughly 10 million kilometers squared, populated by about 325 million people. But she kept running into the same man in one small town or another. It was infuriating.
It was the third of July. She decided not to linger around Jackson Hole, she wanted to put as much distance as possible between herself and the blonde madwoman. Too bad for the concert.
It's not like she wanted to go anyway, she didn't want to run into Ben Solo again at all. Nor did she want to see the look on his face when he saw her out in public again.
Who are you trying to convince?
She waved away the pesky whispering voice in her head. It was time to go to bed.
On the way back to camp, she fed BB the fried chicken bites. She took down her tent and instead set up her sleeping gear in the back of the car. She didn't have as much legroom, but at least no one would be able to get away with breaking in unannounced.
Her phone was at eight percent battery. She had to recharge immediately. There was no way she would spend the night alone in a camp with no phone. She wouldn't live to see the day.
She slipped into her jacket and left BB8 to guard mothership-Millenium-Falcon while she headed to the camp entrance. Everything was closed, with the exception of an ill-lit vending machine. She found an outlet and sat on the floor to wait for her phone to finish charging. She was there for at least half an hour.
She couldn't stop thinking about why anyone would want that car. What was so special about it?
Her fingers trembled as she dialed Leia Skywalker--if anyone would know it would be her.
970-571-3350
There was no dial tone. Just a robotic voice informing her that  the phone number you have dialed is not available .  Rey was immediately taken aback.  What the hell? She had certainly dialed this number before.
She tried again. Same number, same error message.
Her hands became unsteady. Unavailable? She had called that number barely a couple days ago. She had met Leia Skywalker in the flesh--ate with her and slept at her house. What did this mean? Was Leia using a burner phone to keep in touch with Rose, was this deliberate? But to what end?
The long-term implications of such machinations were beyond Rey, who was already battling anxious thoughts. What was it, what did they want?
Suddenly, she remembered the existence of Luke Skywalker. She had his number too, it was literally engraved into the dog's collar tag.
She dialed it shakily.
909-667-5721
The phone number you have dialed is not available.
Rey let out a scream and threw her phone down. It clattered against the damp floor.
She got up, heart racing and head pounding. Her breath was short and her hands were freezing.
Who could she talk to? Jessica?
Apart from worrying the living daylights out of her, there was nothing to be done.  Rey had Leia's physical address since she had texted it to Jessica, but what was she going to do with it? Call the police to report the car? Tell them about the cute dog and the impressive change of number? It was ridiculous. No one would be able to help.
What were her other options?
She had to take the dog to the address in San Francisco, an address she hoped still existed, because the corresponding telephone number was clearly garbage.
Could she back out? She still had to get to San Francisco by the 15th. How was she supposed to change plans if she didn't have plans in the first place? She had mentioned Yellowstone to Leia but not much else.
Abandon the dog? No, the poor animal had no way to fend for herself. Abandon the car? She could hardly continue on foot. She looked down.
Her phone case had been partially damaged due to the fall.
She bent down gingerly to pick it up. Examining it to make sure that the phone itself was intact, she noticed a slip of paper sticking out between the case and the phone itself. Her eyes widened as she pulled it out with her fingertips. She turned it over to read the back:
Ben
970-663-8876
7 notes · View notes
el-gilliath · 5 years
Text
First Time Ever I Saw Your Face (aka The first meeting of Cowboy and Alex Manes, reporter.)
As always this is dedicated to @lsobelevans, because this series is her fault and also because she never tells me to shut up when I keep sending her tidbits of it ❤️
Alex isn’t typically a stupid man. He stays away from danger, tries to stay away from his father when he’s drunk, and doesn’t immerse himself in the business of others unless he’s asked to. Which is why he has no idea why he’s hiding behind a corner, spying on someone trying to rob a bank. Succeeding in robbing a bank, really, considering they seem to be getting a load of cash.
The police isn’t even here yet, but he is, having walked by on his way home from work and though he knows he should call the cops... Something is telling him to wait. He doesn’t know what, but there’s a feeling he can’t shake. Maybe he doesn’t want to, either.
He knows why, a minute later, when the city’s newest vigilante shows up; The Cowboy. Stupid name. Not so stupid outfit.
He’s obviously a Super, with the way his hands move and things move along with it. The guns rip out of the perpetrator’s hands, the grin on The Cowboy’s face enough to make the blood rise in Alex. He’s stupidly hot, too hot even with the mask and the cowboy hat that doesn’t show much of his face. Just the grin is visible, that horribly attractive grin.
Alex might be the son of Jesse Manes, Chief officer of the NYPD, and should be above vigilante’s according to his father. But somehow, he doubts he’ll be able to keep away from The Cowboy. Something about him is just too fascinating.
It might be the curls, just barely visible under the edges of the cowboy hat, it might also be said grin. It might also be the way his eyes shine in pride when he successfully disarms the robbers, the way his arms hold them steady as he wraps ropes around them to secure them.
It might be the way Cowboy turns to him and winks as he leaps away when the sirens come closer and closer.
It’s the first time Alex had seen him up close, but he doubts it will be the last.
And he’s not wrong, a week later Cowboy shows up at another robbery where Alex is at. But this time he’s actually in the bank. Thankfully no one has identified him as the son of Jesse Manes yet, though one of the robbers keep stealing glances at him with a furrowed brow. If he actually knows who Alex is and he tells the rest of them, things might become dicey.
“Hey! I know who you are!”
Shit.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“The fuck are you on about, dude?” One of the robbers asks the guy currently pointing at Alex. The pointers face turns gleeful.
“That’s the youngest son of Chief Police Captain Jesse Manes. The reporter, Alex or whatever the fuck his name is.”
Aww hell, they even know he’s a reporter.
“Well, well, well,” the lone female says as she swaggers over to Alex. She’s obviously the boss of them. “What ever should we do with you? Perhaps we should string you up for daddy to find?”
Alex can’t help but snort. “Trust me, he wouldn’t care if you did.”
“Oh? The baby boy of the Manes family, the black sheep that turned reporter instead of cop. Does he hate you that much, Mr. Manes?”
Alex just looks at her. She’s apparently done her research; he doesn’t need to tell her what she seems to already know.
“He might not like you much, Mr. Manes. But he does like his reputation. And his youngest son dying in a bank heist he couldn’t stop?” She laughs. “Oh he will hate that.”
“True,” Alex replies. The game is up so he might as well play along. “But he’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth for anything he perceives as a slight to his reputation.���
“Well then.” She grins widely as she points her gun at him. “I look forward to that.”
In truth, a small part of Alex does too. Even if he won’t be alive to see it.
“God speed,” he tells her and means it. She tilts her head and nods at him in a gesture of gratitude. Alex closes his eyes. Breathes in as he hears the cocking of the gun. Breathes out as she probably squeezes the trigger.
BANG
He’s surprised when he doesn’t feel the pain of a bullet. He’s even more surprised when he opens his eyes and sees a bullet hovering in front of his face.
“Now I don’t know about you, but shooting civilians, especially that one, ain’t exactly smart.”
“Cowboy. Should’ve known you would be here to ruin our fun. Though I am surprised, you’re no fan of Manes yourself,” the woman says, lowering her gun as she turns away from Alex. He really wants to look, but he feels like keeping an eye on the bullet is smarter.
“I’m not. Doesn’t mean shooting his kid is any kind of right.”
“Don’t know what you mean, I like the idea. It has… character.”
The bullet drops to the floor and Alex chances a look at his savior. He has to struggle with himself to just breathe normally. By god Cowboy is hot.
Cowboy glances over at Alex just as Alex is looking at him. Of course their eyes meet. Of course Cowboy winks at him. Of course Alex has to struggle with himself so he won’t die from blushing. And of course Cowboy notices and grins. Alex hates him.
“I see. There’s another reason why you don’t want me to kill Mr. Manes. Interesting.”
Cowboy turns back to her. “What?”
The female smirks at him. “How many bullets do I have to fire before you’re too tired to stop them?”
As she lifts her gun, her crew lifts their machine guns. Alex has a single moment to think ‘Shit’ before they start firing. He watches as the bullets freeze before him. Clip after clip freezing, as the other people in the bank scream in fear.
But every bullet stops.
“Hmm,” the female says as she and her goons stop firing. “You’re better than I thought.”
“Thanks.” Cowboy sounds rough, almost like he’s tired.
“Tired?”
“Don’t you worry about me.” Cowboy smirks. “Oh, and just so you know, the cops are about to bust in.”
“Sure, they are. And how are they getting in here, with the doors all locked down?” She asks. Before her eyes widen and she looks over at the locks on the doors. Which just happen to be open.
“Yeah. Distracting someone while I open the locks telekinetically? Not that hard.”
Seconds later the doors burst open, and a bunch of S.W.A.T swarm into the building just as the robbers guns fly out of their hands. The female yells, an anger filled sound as the Cowboy laughs and hightails it out of there. Police try to stop him, but he’s gone before they can, the robbers safely in custody a minute later. Which is when his father shows up.
“Alex.”
“Dad,” Alex answers to spite him. He hates being called anything but Chief Manes when he’s in uniform. His nostrils flare. It makes Alex feel good, for two seconds until Jesse crouches next to him.
“Why am I not surprised you’re stupid enough to get yourself taken as a hostage, son.” Alex doesn’t say anything, just looks at him defyingly. “You’re a disgrace.”
“Yeah, you’ve said so.”
Jesse snorts. “And flirting with a vigilante. A male on at that. You’re no son of mine.”
Alex hates how much that stings, even now, years after the first time his dad told him that. “Don’t worry, Chief Manes. I didn’t think I was.”
Jesse gets up, shooting him a look of disgust. “Stay here until my men tell you you can go. You’re still a witness.”
“Yes, sir,” he replies. It’s deeply ingrained in him, even now. An order is still an order.
He walks into his apartment about three hours later, limping slightly with his crutch in his hand. All he wants is a few painkillers, some water, and to go to bed. He knows he has to write a story on this tomorrow. Especially when his boss finds out he was at the bank. Arturo Ortecho is a fair boss, but he still wants the news out and the headlines rolling.
“Hey.”
Alex turns around, brandishing his crutch as a weapon. The cowboy is in the kitchen, looking at him. Mask on, hat on. Still looking like a fucking snack. Alex doesn’t have the time for his libido right now.
“What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?”
Cowboy shrugs. “Just wanted to see if you were alright.”
“Well I’m not. You can go now,” he replies. He’s tired, he’s sore, he’s angry at himself for still being disappointed when his dad treats him like shit.
“Look-“
“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath, releases it slowly. “Thank you. For not letting me die.”
“You’re welcome, Alex. It was my genuine pleasure”
“It’s unfair, you know.”
“What is? Cowboy asks with a sly grin. Ugh.
“You know my name; I don’t know yours.”
Cowboy takes a piece of paper out of his pocket. He folds it, and places it on the kitchen island. “My name is Cowboy.”
Alex huffs. “I know, I gave you that name.”
“And I thank you for that, I like it.”
They look at each other. Smiling. Until Cowboy looks away. “I gotta go. But I’m hoping I’ll see you later?”
“You will.” Some part of Alex would love to see all of Cowboy later. By the look on Cowboy’s face, the feeling might be mutual.
“Until then, Reporter Manes.”
“Until then, Cowboy.”
After Cowboy leaves, after Alex has had a shower, after he’s had a stiff drink, he walks over to the kitchen island and unfolds the paper Cowboy left behind.
There’s an M on it.
Alex doesn’t know what that means. But he’s excited to find out.
99 notes · View notes
meltypes-blog · 5 years
Text
peadpod mchanzo week day 3
[mr. krabs voice] day 3, give it up for day 3! Also, this is a college au because I’m weak for those and young mchanzo is cute
3. Secret Admirer | ao3 link |
Jesse normally wasn’t the type to get flustered. His mama had told him that since he was 4, his three defining characteristics were cute, charming, and shameless. Growing up in a loving and accepting family had given him the right ingredients to bake into that particular mix, but when his mama passed ten years after, and the collectors came after his Pa’s farm, those particular traits rotted and left a bad taste in his mouth. Cute and charming didn’t get him out of the orphanages quick enough, so he ran. At 17, before his new dads swooped in and grabbed his ass out of the fire, his gang buddies described him as quick, deadly, and reckless. It showed in his steady trigger finger, the unnerving accuracy of his aim, the lopsided smiles and toothy smirks. But all the swagger and confidence from his misguided teenage years were particularly missing from his mug shots; a single heist inevitably gone wrong, most of his ‘family’ dead yet again, and half a missing arm later were enough to sober him entirely.
His new dads….they tried not to define him. When they got to him, he was hollow. Quiet. Sad. As hardened war vets, they’d seen some shit, so they knew a little bit in dealing with what Jesse had gone through. They brought Jesse home with them after a grueling two years in court, though Jesse never did get a clear reason why. Gabe told him that he’d seen something in Jesse. Jack joked that he was blind, so he just went along with whatever Gabe saw. They helped heal him by letting him be, doing the opposite when his mistakes hit him hard and left him gasping at night, and encouraging him to believe in himself just as fervently as they did.
Now, at 24, GED under his belt and close to graduating with a bachelors in investigative journalism, Jesse had proudly improved upon his mama’s words. Cute turned into roguishly handsome, his shamelessness transformed into easy-going confidence, and his charming demeanor- well, that was a welcome fixed trait. But despite the fact that no one had ever called Jesse smart aloud, he wasn’t dumb. Any smart person could see that there was more to the man than a cowboy hat and smiles, and that you didn’t get a prosthetic arm and criminal record by riding a horse (unless, of course, you were a bandit from the 18th century). Even dumber people didn’t know what to make of Jesse, most of the time caught off guard when it turned out he wasn’t a complete idiot. In conclusion, no, Jesse didn’t think he was desirable in the long-term, romantic sense of things, despite his many trysts and conquests, so he put it out of his mind.
At least, that was the case, until the fourth flower delivery.
“Again, Reeha?” Jesse asked, face hot as she dropped a sunflower in his hands. “You’re not doing this as a joke right?”
His RA leant against the open doorway of his dorm with crossed arms and snorted. “I’m a college student, Jes. Flowers are expensive. If I wanted to prank you, I could just put a bucket on your door.”
“Zero points for creativity.” He responded, thumbing the back of the card attached to it. He flipped it over, getting significantly redder at the note.
Fareeha snickered. “What’s it say, loverboy?”
Jesse knew she wasn’t going to leave until he told her (she hadn’t for the last two deliveries) so he cleared his throat and read. “‘You are as brilliant as when the sun rises, you bring me warmth as its beams do. Your smile is just as bright. Thank you for existing.’”
“Aw, Jesse.” Fareeha gave him a genuine, wide smile. “Whoever that is has really lost it over you.”
His chest fluttered. “Nah, this is- it’s a joke. Someone here has just got a sick sense of humor.” He looked back to her. “Do you have any idea who it might be?”
“Jes, half the people on this floor are pretty much into you,” she responded, rolling her eyes. “It’s the cowboy hat, probably.”
Jesse chuckled. “Yeah, sure. Wait ‘til I bust out the chaps, that’ll get everyone hot and bothered.”
“It sounds genuine, though,” she said, frowning at his tone. “You’ve just gotta put your degree to use. Do some investigating.” She clapped his shoulder and stood up. “You’re good at that.”
The wheels in Jesse’s head started turning. “Do you know who puts ‘em on your desk?”
Fareeha shrugged. “Satya brings them in from the mailroom, and I’ve asked her who delivers them there, but she says she doesn’t know. Just that there’s a sticky note to have them brought to you.”
“Huh.”
After a bit more brainstorming, Fareeha waved her goodbye and left Jesse in his door, flower clutched in his good hand. He went inside, thumbing the soft petals gently, a plan developing in his head.
He was going to find whoever this was.
“Maybe they do not want to be found.”
Jesse snorted into his coffee. He and Hanzo were seated in the campus coffee shop, taking a break from an especially grueling math homework session. Jesse had first met him in his second semester Research Writing class, which, much to Jesse’s surprise and Hanzo’s embarrassment, the other man was failing. Their professor had insisted Hanzo visit Jesse for tutoring (which, up until his junior year, he did as a work-study student), and the two hit it off. The pair (sometimes with the addition of Hanzo’s younger brother) met up regularly for study sessions, finding that they worked well together despite their differing majors.
Jesse raised his brows. “Then why do they send them in the first place?”
“Perhaps they get off on buying flowers for cowboys,” Hanzo smirked.
“Gross Han,” Jesse laughed, wrinkling his nose. Hanzo smiled and Jesse felt his insides warm, a pleasant syrupy feeling in his gut.
This….thing he started feeling for Hanzo wasn’t a new development. He only needed to spend four months in Hanzo’s presence to become infatuated, though he ignored it for the most part, reasoning that shallow appreciation for an attractive man was nothing worth exploring. Then the man got a haircut, pierced himself up, changed his major to what he was actually passionate about, and Jesse’s heart was a goner. What he felt was honestly too childish to be called a crush and the other option scared the hell out of him, because even after knowing Hanzo for 2 years, he still had trouble figuring out if the man was seriously flirting or not.
“But really,” Jesse continued, “it seems a bit….I don’t know. Weird.”
Hanzo raised a brow. “You do not enjoy the attention?”
Maybe if it was from you, Jesse thought unhelpfully. “‘S not that, it’s just….I never thought I’d get romanced like this. Flowers.” He chuckled. “What’s next, chocolates? A full bouquet?”
Hanzo’s eyes got that strange glint in them Jesse had been noticing lately. “Is that something you would like?”
“Oh, hell no, that’s a bit much to be coming from a stranger,” Jesse said. He leant forward. “You got any idea who it could be?”
Hanzo’s face fell flat. “You have many admirers, Jesse. Many find you attractive, you know this.”
“You sayin’ I’m good looking?” He teased, smiling at Hanzo’s eye roll.
“I am saying,” Hanzo smirked, “Many people lack taste.”
Jesse barked a laugh. “Right where it hurts, Han. Your aim is unerring.”
“You just make it too easy,” he replied. “Speaking of,” he tapped his notebook, “we should finish these equations.”
Jesse groaned. “Easy for you, Mr. Math Major. Some of us are better with words than numbers.”
“Oh, I am well aware of that,” he chuckled. “But why you would choose a math course for your last elective if you hate it so much is beyond me.”
Jesse just smiled. “I like a challenge.”
The fifth flower arrived during Jesse’s investigation. He made his way down to the dorm mailroom, deciding to ask Satya herself if she knew anything essential.
She scoffed at Jesse’s question, putting her cell phone down. “Why would I keep the sticky notes? They are trash once their duty is fulfilled.”
Jesse sighed. There went his first lead.
“Okay,” he said. “But did you get a look at the handwriting? Was it neat? Messy?”
Satya considered the question. “Well….all of them were written in capital letters.”
“Hm.” Jessed hummed. “And….no one else gets flower deliveries?”
“Not that I have seen, no.” She smirked slightly, picking her phone back up. “It seems you have a secret admirer, McCree.”
He sighed again, pink in the face. “Seems that way.”
It didn’t help much, but he thanked her anyways, heading out into the hall. He closed the mailroom door behind him and exhaled, exasperated. He didn’t really think that asking about the sticky notes would help, but it was the first thing that came to his mind to check. He stepped forward- and almost tripped when he realized there was something on the ground in front of him. His heart pounded when he bent down to look closer.
“No way,” he breathed, picking up the single pink rose. He straightened quickly, looking to his left and right, trying to catch a glimpse of someone, anything, but the hall was empty save for himself and the dorm event bulletin board. He looked to the card and laughed softly.
“They did not have red ones, so I hope you are fine with pink. It reminds me of the times you are silly, blushing and happy. I wish you many more moments like that.”
Jesse would’ve written the secret gifts off as insincere if they’d called him sexy or complimented his ass, but the notes were always heartfelt and profound. The first, paired with a camellia, had regaled his beauty, declaring that “the depths of which are rivaled only by that of the oceans.” The second, attached to a sweet smelling gardenia, paid homage to his intelligence; “an incomparable mind” and “a smart mouth to match a smart man.” The third came with a red carnation, calling him kind-hearted and wonderful; “you inspire me to be my best.” The strangest part was that each delivery had happened in the span of a single month, each floral arrival erratic and unpredictable. The timing made little sense too: February was three months ago, and his birthday was in December. Jesse brainstormed the motivations himself but decided that they were 100% genuine, the other option being that it was an elaborate prank before grad. Most of his friends were too busy with finals or too short on cash. Jesse trudged back to his room, placing the flower in the same vase near the window as the previous ones and the note in the small ornate box on his desk that held the others, deciding to enact the next part of his investigation the following weekend.
Now, Jesse usually liked Genji, considered him a brother even- but right now, he felt like throwing him to the wolves. The green-haired bastard was cackling loud enough to draw the attention of almost everyone in the coffee shop to their small corner; he found Jesse’s floral predicament particularly funny. Jesse looked to Hanzo for help, but the man just gave him a toothy smile and shrugged.
“So, you have no idea who it could be?” Genji asked, after having calmed. “Not a single inkling?”
Jesse’s eyes flitted briefly to Hanzo (he immediately squashed that hope down, Hanzo didn’t seem like the flower giving type) before he turned to Genji. “I wouldn’t be askin’ for your help if I did, ninja.”
“Some investigator you are,” Genji snorted.
He pointed to him. “Hey now, I just haven’t finished looking around yet. I’ve got a plan.”
“Oh? Do tell.” Hanzo spoke, sounding amused.
“Well,” Jesse started confidently, settling back into his seat,” it’s gotta be someone on campus right? And the flowers gotta come from somewhere. So I sussed out the location of every flower shop in the area- which there are three of, by the way- and I plan on bringing the notes and asking around. They’re bound to know something.”
Genji hummed appreciatively and Hanzo balked.
“How do you know they didn’t order them in advance? Or that they would remember their patrons?” Genji gave his brother a weird look at the question while Jesse chuckled.
“No one has the time for advanced orders during finals. Plus, it seems like these gifts were a last minute kinda thing, because there’s no pattern to the delivery times. And if my hunch is right,” Jesse leaned forward conspiratorially,” it’s probably someone I know.”
Hanzo’s face seemed to go through a myriad of emotions before smoothing over into a blank expression. “You truly are intelligent, then.”
“I know,” Jesse grinned cheekily, feeling proud.
Genji let out a choked noise at something and stared incredulously at Hanzo. Then at Jesse. Then back to Hanzo.
“Jesse. You really can’t guess? Really?” Genji’s eyes were pleading.
Jesse furrowed his brow. “If you know something I don’t, the help is appreciated.”
Genji muttered something in Japanese and stood up suddenly, grabbing his bag. “No. I don’t know anything, apparently. If you will excuse me, I’m going to go somewhere else before I throw up.” He turned a devious smile to Hanzo, who sat uncharacteristically frozen. “I will talk to you later, brother.” Then he was gone.
“Well, that sounded foreboding,” Jesse commented to a strangely flushing Hanzo. “Did you catch what he said under his breath?”
“No,” Hanzo answered quickly. He stood up too. “I- I have to go. Satya needs my help with a project.”
“Oh.” Jesse sat back disappointed. “Okay. See ya later, then.”
Hanzo gave him a tense smile before he hurriedly departed. Finals week, Jesse decided, was a bitch.
The sixth flower was thankfully delivered in person.
He woke up that morning feeling motivated, ready to find the mystery person behind the roses. His trip to the first floral shop wasn’t what he expected, considering it closed down 5 years ago and sat on the side of the road as a sad, dilapidated building (thanks, Google)- but he wasn’t deterred. The second shop, however, didn’t yield satisfactory results either. He showed the owner the notes, and much to his embarrassment, she said that they didn’t even use the same cards or ribbon as the ones the stranger gave him.
“Whoever it was probably made them themselves,” she said, eyes twinkling. “That’s so sweet!” Jesse mechanically nodded his agreement, said his thanks, and left feeling flustered at the situation all over again. Handmade note cards. Maybe they really didn’t want to be known.
So found Jesse on his way to the last floral shop- Bastion’s Bouquets- and losing all semblance of hope. He pushed the door open, bell ringing overhead, and was instantly assaulted by the sweet aroma of flora.
Flowers ranging from roses to calla lilies to desert flowers crowded on shelves that stretched to the ceiling. Long vines and leaves from medium sized palms and ferns leaned over Jesse’s head as he traversed deeper into the store, reaching the counter. It was colorful, and wonderful, and Jesse began to wonder if he was in the wrong line of work at the sight of a bright pink bougainvillea trailing along the wall behind the cashier’s desk.
“Howdy,” he called to the empty space in front of him, resting his hands on the wood. “Anybody in?”
A clatter of noise and a curse responded. Then, in a strange accent:
“Be right out!”
Jesse took to looking around as he waited, exclaiming in pleased surprise as he found a small bird hiding among a gorgeous display of hyacinths. It chirped quietly as it settled in Jesse’s outreached hand and fluffed its wings. Jesse cooed and it tilted its head, chirping louder as he rubbed a finger down its back.
“Ganymede, stop begging for attention. The name is Torb, what can I do for you, son?”
Jesse turned to find a short- very, very short- man behind him. He had a mechanical arm, a fake eye, and was wearing a pink apron with the store name and a cartoon robot on the front. Jesse immediately liked him.
“Ah, well, ya see,” he muttered, struggling to get the notecards out of his back pocket with his prosthetic, not wanting to jostle the bird. “I got- aha! I got these cards along with a bunch of different flowers over the past month and was wondering if they were ordered from you, or if you remembered who ordered them.”
Torb took the cards from Jesse’s hand, sifting through them. His ears grew hot as the short man chuckled and raised a brow at him.
“Sounds like someone really likes you, eh?”
Jesse cleared his throat, cheeks flaming. “I mean, it could be a prank. Haven’t gotten rid of that possibility.”
Torb laughed harder and handed the cards back to Jesse. “I, for one, think you should throw that thought out the window. What were the flowers?”
Jesse told him and Torb rubbed his chin.
“Well,” he started. “We do carry all of those.”
Jesse felt a surge of hope.
“But carnations, camellias and roses are popular ones, and we haven't sold any sunflowers recently. I would remember that.” He gave Jesse a sympathetic look. “‘M sorry lass, I can’t help you there.”
Jesse’s stomach plummeted and he sighed. Ganymede chirped softly and flew away to the back room, probably to eat or sleep. He looked at Torb imploringly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Are there any other flower shops around here that have the same selection you do?”
Torb shook his head. “Afraid not. Otherwise, we would be out of business.”
Jesse nodded and said his thanks, ready to give up when Ganymede came flying back out, a small slip in her talons. She landed on Torb’s shoulder and dropped the paper into his open hand.
“Ah! That’s right, it almost slipped my mind!” He said, reading through it. He looked back up to Jesse with a toothy grin, waving around what looked like a receipt. “Seems I was wrong. There is one other place that carries the same selection we do, though it only orders a small amount from our stock.”
The supermarket. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
Jesse had walked by the flower freezer in there every time he shopped, but he never paid it enough attention for its presence to register in his head. He ran hurriedly from Torb’s shop to the market a few blocks over, hope swelling. It was getting late, the sun almost finished setting, and he knew the store was going to be closed in a couple of hours. He would get in there, and he would- well, he would look and- huh.
Jesse slowed to a jog, coming to a stop in front of the store. He frowned, realizing he had no plan. What would he do? Rather, what could he do? Too many people went in and out, and it’s not like a chain market would take note of each customer that bought sunflowers. He swallowed, feeling his hope shatter yet again.
He could….stake the place, he guessed. But his admirer obviously knew what he looked like, and loitering was still considered a crime. He was about to walk inside, maybe buy some booze and drown in it, when a voice ripped him from his thoughts.
“Jesse?”
He turned to his right to find Hanzo, looking as attractive as ever in his dark jacket and jeans, with a comically stricken expression on his face.
Jesse wondered what was wrong, until his eyes zeroed in on the package in his hands, and he sucked in a breath.
A bouquet of roses.
Hanzo held the flowers in a tight grip, an entire bouquet of expensive red roses, and Jesse, tired and emotionally charged at the sight, blurted the first thing that came to mind.
“You get off on buying flowers for cowboys?”
Hanzo turned red and made an audible noise in the back of his throat, taking a step backward, away from him.
He’s gonna run, Jesse suddenly realized, and he raised his hands in apology, a hysterical laugh bubbling in his throat at the relief he felt that it was him, at what this situation had come to.
“Hanzo,” he laughed, slightly breathless, and the man took another step backward. Jesse took a large step towards him and fought down another laugh. “Hanzo, wait.”
“I did not think you would find my affections funny,” he said, looking and sounding hurt.
Jesse sobered instantly, realizing what was at stake, and took those last few steps to reach him. “Hanzo, wait no, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just- this whole time?” He reached for Hanzo’s free hand. “You could’ve just talked to me, hon.”
“I am not good with words,” he responded, looking anywhere but at Jesse. “I know it is childish, but Genji told me that you had never had a serious relationship before, and with you leaving in two months for that job in Gibraltar, I just….”
He sighed, searching Jesse’s eyes. “I wanted to make sure you at least knew that someone cared for you, in that way….still cares.”
Jesse’s heart pounded and he gripped Hanzo’s hand tighter, not knowing what to say. He had Hanzo right where he had wanted him since he first saw him, and he was speechless.
“Okay, here’s the thing.” Jesse decided to lay it all out. “I’ve been in love with you for almost a year now, and if you’re willing, I’d like to try. Gibraltar or not, I’ve been absolutely hopeless for you. If you’ll have me.”
Hanzo lowered his burning face and heaved a deep, shaky breath. Then, he looked up and pressed the bouquet to Jesse’s chest, a small smile making its way onto his face. Jesse held the flowers there with his prosthetic, face burning.
“You said that you wouldn’t take a bouquet from a stranger and I was actually going to give these to you in person, when I found the right thing to say.” He pressed himself closer to Jesse. “I do not have a card this time, so I apologize.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Jesse breathed, moving his hand to the small of Hanzo’s back, the roses crinkling between them. “What were you going to say?”
“I love you, too.” Hanzo leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Jesse’s lips, and Jesse brought him even closer, closing his eyes, Hanzo and the scent of roses overtaking him.
After he and Hanzo made their way back to the dorms, the roses (a bit crumpled, but still whole) found their way into the vase near the window, the other flowers pressed safely into a textbook. And when Jesse finally left to Gibraltar, Hanzo sent him off with his seventh- a snapdragon that Jesse snuck in his carry-on. The message on the notecard was pretty much the same as the last one, but it didn’t make him feel any less flustered and happy.
I love you. Come back soon.
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alizrak · 5 years
Text
Cinder-Eli AU
I came up with this AU with confuzing and mortis help.
Pryce is the Evil Step Mother. Gimm and Lyste are the step brothers. Pryce favors Gimm because he's ruthless, and she tolerates Lyste because, while annoying and not very bright, he wants to please her... Pryce had married Eli's father because of his shipping influence but seriously hates eveything from Wild Space. She took over the business when he died on an accident.
Thrass is King of the Ascendancy and he can't keep Thrawn from breaking protocol and misbehaving. Faro is his advisor and says that maybe Thrawn needs something to distract him. Thrass knows Thrawn has a weakness for human males so he orders a gala to find him a (hopefully) definitive partner.
Pryce is over the moon. If she can get Gimm picked, their family name would be known all over the Ascendancy and their business would flourish. She might even enter Lyste into the gala to cover her bases. But she's definitely not going to risk Eli because WHO WOULD LIKE A YOKEL LIKE YOU UGH!
Eli is relegated to do low supply work with the mouse droids... it's not like he wanted to go or anything. He likes his work.
And then... GodAdmiral Ar'alani shows up. She's an old acquitance of King Thrass and after carefull consideration she believes Eli has the biggest chance of succedeeing... as she knows Thrawn's taste. It would benefit greatly both the Ascendancy and if he was indeed Thrawn's partner. She gives him a full CEDF uniform and a stealth ship. She warns him that he must return before the last rotation is complete or a bunch of Purrgils will show up and take the ship away.
"...Why?"
"I don't know. Something about the stealth-drive seems to attract them."
To finish off his outfit Eli takes a cowboy hat. He's taken to the gala where Pryce is furious because while Thrawn praised Gimm's skills he's certainly not interested on him, let alone Lyste. And then... HE arrives.
Pryce narrows her eyes. That can't be their Eli.
Thrawn immediately leaves everyone behind and strikes conversation with him. Eli starts talking in Sybisti because he assumed that would be more apropiate and is embarrassed he can't speak Cheunh. They share points about military, economics, and art... even as far as explaining what each of the guests would gain with his 'alliance'. Thrass is crying of happiness in the background.
What is that you want?
I just... don't want anything. I just wanted to come.
And it's then that Eli realizes he's the only one Thrawn is actually giving any attention.
Why are you so interested in me?
Thrawn smiles. Eli blushes.
But then... Eli remembers the time. The rotation is about to end!
Oh stars... I gotta go, I'm sorry. Eli exclaims as he starts running and he loses his hat in the process. Thrawn picks it up and tries to follow him but as soon as Eli enter the stealth ship, he's gone.
Now Thrawn is obssessed with finding his mysterious cowboy and starts using his detective skills to identify who Eli was...
Pryce is fumming back home. She goes directly to Eli and calls kryat spit on his "allibi" and excuses. She assures him he will never achieve to anything and he would just make a fool of himself later. Pryce tells him it's a pity Eli's body will be found tomorrow after he suffers a terrible accident like his father. !!!!
When Thrawn comes around, because OF COURSE he would deduct where Eli ultimetely lives, Pryce says he's wrong... Eli hasn't lived there for a long time. Thrawn disagrees. Some of the old art still hanging around the house has clear Lysatran influence, and still has been taken cared of... just like this hat. Pryce apologizes. She says Eli left in a hurry and she doesn't know where he is.
Eli sends a hacked mouse droid to alert anyone outside that he's been trapped by Pryce and Thrawn immediately order their arrest. As he goes to release him, Eli actually manages to hack the door open and find himself face to face with Thrawn, who gives him back his hat with a small smile.
Pryce and Gimm are sent to the prison mines of Kessel, Gimm helped her set up his stepfather's "accident". Lyste sticks around as assistant to Eli... the poor guy had no idea anything was happening.
Thrass is initally happy Thrawn is finally not his problem at least for a while. But soon he starts getting reports they both are now doing shenanigans around the Ascendancy borders.
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mtvswatches · 5 years
Text
Wynonna Earp 1x03 Leavin’ On Your Mind
Spoilers disclaimer (please read before sending messages or writing comments.)
Stray thoughts
1) I already ship this… Is this a thing? Please, don’t tell me!
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I can’t really tell if Wynonna is truly being flirtatious or if this is her way of figuring him out because she doesn’t trust him. I mean, you can be attracted to someone who you don’t trust, so there’s that.
2) Oh, wow, don’t you just hate it when you’re fumbling with your bag and a bloody chopped off hand falls and everyone sees it? #awkward
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So what do these guys need Dixon’s diary for? And why are they carrying a chopped hand around as if it was a freaking tampon?
3) So… revenants just have a thirst for murder? I haven’t seen them feeding off anyone, but they do seem to get off on killing people right?
4) Sounds like Giles…
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5) Ha!
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6) Oh shit indeed!
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7)
DOC: “Bravery” is just a fancy word for “stupid”.
I predict I’ll see him do tons of stupid things, then.
8) Yep, Doc is definitely giving me Spike vibes…
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9) The guy’s hand is being chopped off and all Wynonna can think is that he’s going to miss his bus!!
10) Okay, so these revenants need three things – the voice of a mute, the hand of an innocent murderer, and something else paradoxical – to perform a spell that will let them out of the limits of the Ghost River Triangle. Cool, cool, cool.
11) Waverly is quite clever, actually. She has figured out “Henry’s” fib, but instead of calling him out on it, she’s playing along to see what else she can get out of him. Like, why is he pretending to be someone he isn’t?
12) Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm, how convenient… Wynonna decides to visit her dad’s and sister’s graves at the same time the revenant is trying to find something for the spell…
13) “Look at that body. I call dibs!” I’m guessing he’s not talking about fucking him, right? So, he’s either going to kill him or eat him. Or… Can revenants switch bodies?
14)
DOLLS: Give this to whoever's in charge. And…
WYNONNA: Never get into a vehicle, never move to a second location.
DOLLS: You've been in a hostage situation before?
WYNONNA: Sort of…
What does this mean? And why is she smirking? Was she a hostage or did she hold someone hostage? I need to know!
15) Dolls keeps giving me Giles vibes, but then again, Giles would never do this with Buffy…
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16) I’m guessing Waverly is going to get super pissed at Wynonna putting herself in danger without even considering how this could affect her sister… (edit: Never mind, she didn’t get pissed because of this, she just wanted in on the action.)
17) They’re not releasing all the hostages because they need three of them… Three humans? For the spell, right?
18) Oh… so this is why Bobo is the Big Boss…
DOC: See, unlike your type, I can roam far and wide. Although from what I hear around your little enclave, some of your cronies, oh, they're itching to wander too.
BOBO: Well, they can try, but the only way out of the Triangle is with me.
19) So, this “Stone Witch” is the woman Doc was trying to find on the newspapers? And knowing her name gives you some sort of power? Is that why Bobo can walk out of the boundaries? Was she the one who put the spell that set the boundaries in the first place? So many questions! 
20) So the Stone Witch chose these three backward revenants to perform the spell… They said they needed three of them… are they going to switch bodies with humans so that they can walk outside the boundaries of Ghost River Triangle? Could that be?
21) What kind of life has Wynonna been living, though? How does she know how to open a fucking safe?
22) Waverly has figured it out, right?
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Is this the name of the Stone Witch? And why is she called the Stone Witch?
23) Doc is acting all tough and trying to humiliate and scare Waverly, but I bet her words will resonate with him…
WAVERLY: I know what you're supposed to be. You're supposed to be a hero. You're supposed to be Wyatt Earp's best friend! You're supposed to be here to help us! 
I don’t want my instincts to be wrong about him. I really hope he turns out to be one of those morally ambiguous characters who eventually choose to fight the good fight.
24) So a loveless heart was the third item… Rather poetic…
25) Okay, so they needed the three hostages to use them as shields, forget all my previous speculation.
26)
REVENANT: You know Marty here's been put down three times?
WYNONNA: Third-generation revenant?
REVENANT: Three times down south, you'd go a little psychotic too.
I really like this tidbit of mythology, how the revenants get more evil with each reincarnation. It makes sense, too. Spending that much time in Hell, and then being back… I would also be hella pissed at those who sent me down there. I also wonder if we will meet revenants who’ve been put down more than three times. How evil can you get, you know?
27) Okay, so they’re only doing the spell for the Stone Witch so that she will let them out of the boundaries. I guess I suck at predicting storylines, good.
28) Well, I didn’t mention this before but I swear on my dog that I did know Wynonna would be carrying a GPS device or a microphone or something…
29) DAMN IT I WAS RIGHT!!!
REVENANT: The old man's not gonna make it. Cowboy's the only good one left.
WYNONNA: That's why you need Champ's body? For some sort of, like, possession?
CHAMP: What? In my body?! Wynonna, I don't even put gluten in this!
WYNONNA: Then you can walk across the line in human form.
(BTW, I loved Champ’s gluten line)
30) I DIED!
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31) I’m sorry, Shorty, but it totally made sense for him to be the one to suck in the revenant’s “soul” or whatever. He was about to die, after all.
32) “Give me straight-up death instead of being sent to hell and back over and over.” This totally makes sense. I wonder if there are revenants who actually feel like this, who would prefer to be put down forever – even if forever means forever in hell – rather than being brought back every few years or so only to be sent back to hell again, rinse and repeat. I mean, being teased with life on earth – even if you’re an evil demon – only to have it taken away from you time and again…? It somehow seems more hellish than hell itself…
33) Dolls tried to shoot Sam but the gun didn’t work. Does that mean that Wynonna is literally the only person who can shoot it? And what made him think he could use it? 
34) I guess we’re not meeting the Stone Witch today…
35) Ouch, my feels…
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36) When will Waverly dump Champ, though? It doesn’t make sense for her to be with this douche?
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37) Hmmm, Dolls is sounding more and more like Giles… (and Wynonna is sounding a lot like Buffy, btw…)
WYNONNA: The hell took you so long?
DOLLS: I was always there. But I just needed to see if they could actually do it.
WYNONNA: Even if it meant Shorty had to die?
DOLLS: Collateral damage. This is a war. You want to avenge your sister and your dad, right? And this is what victories… might have to look like.
WYNONNA: And what about our failures?
Hmm, this also raises another question. Not only was he waiting to see if the revenants could pull off the spell, but he also tried to shoot Wynonna’s gun. Given his pragmatical mentality, I’m guessing he was testing out if Wynonna was actually dispensable. If he could use the gun himself, then Wynonna was expendable. If something were to happen to her, then he could carry on without a hiccup. I wonder if these different views will make them collide.
38) I’ve got to say, I’d be disappointed if this hadn’t been her response…
With all the shit I've done in my life Dolls, working with you I don't think I can look in the mirror.
This is the hero mentality, heroes need to believe wars can be won without “collateral damage”, they need to believe they can save everyone, that is what drives them. But I’m sure that this won’t be the last time this mentality is tested, and I’m guessing Wynonna will need to make other sacrifices or be forced to walk a grey moral line...
39) Ugh, fucking Doc…
DOC: The fact is, I have not properly introduced myself. You can tell your sister she is right. I am… was friends with your great-great-grandpappy. My name is John Henry, but most people just called me Doc.
WYNONNA: "Doc"? Doc Holliday?
DOC: Wynonna Earp, I am at your disposal.
WYNONNA: Well, shit.
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He’s a conniving son of a bitch, isn’t he? He only came clean because Waverly had already figured out who he was, but he did it in a way that made it look like he beat Waverly to the punch (that’s why he tells Wynonna to tell her sister that “she was right.”) Besides, introducing himself as a friend of their great-great-grandfather automatically establishes a bond between them, even some trust. He is saying, “hey, you can trust me, I’m here to help you.”
However, he’s obviously doing Bobo’s bidding – this is exactly what Bobo asked him to do. I do have a feeling Doc is the type of character who would do what others tell him if it’s beneficial for him but who can also very quickly switch sides if it suits him better, you know? I think, for now, he’s playing it by ear to see what and who will benefit him more.
The thing is, for now, he’s playing Wynonna. So I feel I’ll have to hate him a little bit before he makes me love him.
Who am I kidding? I already love him, but you know what I mean, right?
40) This episode definitely felt more Monster-of-the-Week than the previous two, but I still felt enough things were introduced in order to build the season arc – the Stone Witch and Doc’s identity being revealed. Can’t wait to watch the next one!
41) Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi.Thanks!
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