#she made me fuckin weigh myself in front of her the other day and when she saw the number she was like ‘thats not that bad’

[beverageenthusiast]

.

#good fucking god #im hanging out w my mom and i remember why i dont love hanging out with my mom #she gives in to toxic diet culture and is a huge reason why my relationship with food is so fucked upppp #minding my business making myself a rice bowl w sweet potato and avocado w miso tahini dressing 🤌🤌 #and unprompted shes like #‘im on a new diet i cant eat any of those things i can only have 200 calories per meal #i miss avocado so much but i’d rather be skinny’ #im like BITCH???????? #thanks for sharing and also that ‘nutrition center’ u went to and bought a bunch of frozen food from is a scam #once u stop eating their special food they upsell you then ur gonna gain it all back i hate to break it to you #and also the key to losing weight is to exercise enough to offset what you eat #she does not exercise at all. #she made me fuckin weigh myself in front of her the other day and when she saw the number she was like ‘thats not that bad’ #HELLO?????? #is she trying to give me another ed? cuz her saying that is exactly how i developed an ed 7 years ago :-) #losing my mind actually #ive genuinely put in so much work and its such a conscious and constant effort to not fall back into those patterns #and here i am holding back tears while i try to finish eating

[ladamedusoif]

Starry Night (Joel Miller x Stargazer f!reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 1

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

Pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x Stargazer F!Reader

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~1500

Warnings: Strong language (Ellie is involved); canon doesn’t go here; alcohol references; fluff; almost certainly some stargazing errors please forgive me

Summary: There are a lot of wonderful things about making it to the safety of Jackson, but the darkness of the night sky makes it a perfect home for a stargazer like you - and you’re only too happy to share your knowledge with a space-mad teenager. Oh, and her grumpy dad.

Every time you set up your telescope, you remembered the look Maria had given you the day you returned from a scavenging mission with it strapped to your back, still in its packaging.

“Seriously?”

You shrugged as you got off your horse. “Seriously. Got plenty of other stuff too, so let me have this, please?”

She looked dubious, but threw up her arms in resignation. “If we need it for lookout - it’s ours, okay?”

You nodded, hugging the telescope close to your chest, and raced home to set it up. 

Space was your dad’s thing, and he’d made it yours, too. Nights in the backyard with his very basic kit trained on the skies, stargazing maps in front of you, climbing on his lap to look through the viewfinder.

He taught you the major constellations, how to find planets visible in the night sky, explained how stars helped people navigate, long ago. 

Little did you know then how that information would come in handy years later, finding your way to the safety of the Jackson settlement with nothing else to guide you. 

Stargazing in the suburbs wasn’t ideal. Too much light pollution. In Jackson, though? Wide, open dark skies, far as the eye could see. 

Every time you watched the night sky, you looked out for your dad.

Cold, crisp, clear winter nights were your favourite time for stargazing. Bundled up in your warmest coat, hat, and blankets, you sat on your porch, telescope in front of you and an old Atlas of the Night Sky on your lap. Out of the corner of your eye, you became conscious of two people walking along the sidewalk past your home. Recent arrivals, you guessed, seeing as they weren’t familiar; a young girl, an older man. Father and daughter, probably.

“Whoa, dude. She’s got a fuckin’ real telescope!”

The girl had stopped to stare at you, eyes wide in astonishment. You offered a shy smile and a little wave, and were about to speak when the man interjected, beckoning the girl on with a frustrated tilt of his head.

“Mind your manners, Ellie. Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to disturb you. You have a good night.” He nods and you return the gesture, touched by his somewhat old-fashioned manners, and they walk on as you go back to seeking out Castor and Pollux.

Over the next couple of weeks, you learned that the man was Tommy’s older brother, Joel. His exact relationship to Ellie, the teenage girl, was not clear: she wasn’t his biological daughter, you suspected but Tommy tended to refer to her as “Joel’s kid”.

They tended to keep to themselves, for the most part. But she would peek in your direction if she spotted you at social events in the community, as if she was weighing up whether she should go and talk to you. No amount of friendly waves and smiles from you could ever convince her, it seemed.

You took matters into your own hands at the holiday tree lighting ceremony. You picked them out easily: Joel, big and broad in a sheepskin-lined winter coat, greying hair curling over the collar; Ellie, ponytail bobbing from side to side as she looked at the illuminated tree in absolute awe and wonder. 

“Joel and Ellie, right?” 

They turned to appraise you, still wary of new people. You held out the mugs of eggnog you’d grabbed for them on your way across the room. 

“Thought you might like some eggnog, and I wanted to introduce myself. I’m the telescope lady.”

Ellie’s eyes widened. “So cool,” she murmured, as if to herself.

Joel nodded and accepted the eggnog gratefully, the mug suddenly appearing doll-sized in his large hands. “Ellie’s got a thing for space, don’t you? Loves hearing about the space programs, the astronauts, all that.”

The teenager looked down at her shoes and blushed a little as she nodded. Apocalypse or not, teenage girls will always be embarrassed by their dads. 

Ellie took a sip of her eggnog. “How’d you get a fuckin’ telescope, anyway?” 

Joel scolded her, but you chuckled. “I found it in an old hobby store on a scavenging mission one time. I wasn’t gonna leave that behind, now was I?” She grinned at your conspiratorial wink, and Joel seemed to relax a little.

“Come over whenever you want, and I’ll give you a guided tour of the sky. We’ve got perfect conditions here for it.”

She beamed and turned to Joel, who shook his head softly. “We don’t want to be disturbing you, ma’am.” You corrected him with your name, and he repeated it, low and slow, in that warm, dark voice of his.

“I mean it, Joel. You are both very welcome to do some stargazing with me, whenever you’d like.”

“No fuckin’ WAY!”

Ellie tears into the kitchen on the morning of December 21, excitedly brandishing a piece of paper under Joel’s nose as he sips - or tries to sip - his morning coffee.

“Whatever it is, El, it’s far too early for this kind of excitement.”

“Look at it, dude!”

He rolls his eyes, puts down his mug, and looks at the piece of paper. It’s a handwritten invitation, decorated with drawings of celestial bodies and, at the bottom, a bright red telescope. He can’t help but chuckle as he reads the words aloud.

“Ellie (and Joel) are invited to a special winter solstice stargazing party tonight, December 21, at 6pm. Wrap up warm and be ready to see stars.” Underneath, you’ve carefully written your name and address in neat print.

By now, Ellie is positively bouncing with excitement. “The fuckin’ telescope! I’m gonna look through a fuckin’ telescope! At fuckin' SPACE!”

Joel’s heart swells as he takes in her sheer joy at the prospect of looking up into the heavens, knowing how hard everything has been for her, how much he has wanted to make her smile again. 

“Alright, but there’ll be no telescope if you don’t eat and get dressed for school. Go on, now.”

The telescope is already set up on your porch when they arrive later that evening, Joel carrying a flask of hot coffee and Ellie a tin with a few cookies - the best they could rustle up at short notice. 

“I’m so glad you came!” You beam at them as you open your front door, beckoning them inside. “I’ve got some snacks ready, and some hot punch.”

A smile creeps over Joel’s face as he realises you’re somehow playing a compilation of holiday music. Brenda Lee is singing about rocking around the Christmas tree, Ellie is nodding her head in time to the song as she makes a beeline for the bowls of snacks you’d set out, and he is struck by just how long it’s been since he’s experienced anything akin to “holiday cheer”.

“What the fuck does ‘rockin’ around a Christmas tree’ mean, anyways?”

Joel tuts and rolls his eyes. “Ellie. Language.”

You giggle as you hand Ellie a cup of non-alcoholic hot punch. “It’s fine, Joel. I think she means people are dancing around a Christmas tree, Ellie.”

Ellie looks sceptical. “Fuckin’ weird. Hey, when can we look at the stars?”

Joel lets you take the lead, as Jackson’s resident stargazer. He sits on one of your kitchen chairs, sipping from a mug of punch, watching you show Ellie how to navigate the night sky. 

The punch is warming in more ways than one. As Ellie bounded out to the porch earlier, you’d subtly held up a bottle of liquor at him and raised your eyebrows in a silent question, before adding a little to your and his mugs of punch once he’d nodded his assent. 

“See that really bright, orangey one there? That’s Betelgeuse. It’s a red supergiant.”

Ellie’s mouth hangs open as she squints through the telescope’s eyepiece. “Red supergiant,” she repeats. 

“See if you can find Orion’s Belt for yourself. It’s not too far away.”

You turn to Joel, checked blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and raise your mug towards him with a warm smile. “Happy holidays, Joel.”

He reciprocates the gesture, dark, warm eyes crinkling as a gentle, genuine smile spreads across his face. It might be the first time you’ve ever really seen him smile.

He looks to the heavens, taking in the perfect, pitch-dark blue-black carpet of a night sky embroidered with millions of twinkling stars. For an instant, he finds comfort in remembering that we all - everyone who is, who has ever been, and who will ever be - gaze up at the same firmament. 

General fic taglist: @agentjackdaniels, @julesonrecord , @tessa-quayle, @vermillionwinter , @iamskyereads , @tieronecrush , @perennialdoll247 , @love-the-abyss , @imaswellkid , @intheorangebedroom , @fuckyeahdindjarin , @littlemisspascal , @khindahra , @pedrostories , @readingiskeepingmegoing , @rhoorl , @red-red-rogue , @princessanglophile , @katareyoudrilling @survivingandenduring , @trulybetty @fictionismyreality @sunnywithachanceofjavi , @joeldjarin , @lahoozaherr, @s-u-t, @its-nebuleuse, @veryprairieberry (let me know if you'd rather not be tagged!)

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller jackson #the last of us fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us #ellie williams #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro pascal

[metalbuckaroo]

💋Soldat107💋

🍒 SUMMARY// At 3am, every Sunday, Bucky locks his bedroom door to watch his favorite camgirl. What's to happen when he finds out he's much closer to her than leaving generous tips on her videos?

💋 WARNINGS// m masturbation, implied f masturbation, cursing, mentions of alcohol, lil bit of fluff

🍒 AU// Roommate!Bucky x Camgirl!Reader

💋 NOTE// This is tame compared to what's coming next. Requests and asks are always open, 18+ ONLY Minors DNI

🍒Ronly Friends Masterlist🍒

💋Main Masterlist💋

Moodboard by// @commonintrest

"C'mon, big boy! Nat is gonna be here soon." You called down the hall, Bucky walking out of his bedroom as he pulled his shirt on. "I'm coming, calm down." He sighed. "Well, don't you look handsome." You smiled, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense a little under your touch. "Oh, stop flirting."

"Nevermind, you look horrible." You teased, Bucky rolling his eyes at you as he got in the fridge for a water. "If I was to set you up with one of my friends- would you go?"

"Nope."

Though a small wave of relief washed over him, he couldn't stop himself from asking- "why not?"

"I have plenty of fun- by myself." You winked, a low chuckle pulling from Bucky's chest as he took a quick drink from the bottle. "Well, any guy who gets to date you is lucky, dollface."

You jutted your bottom lip out, reaching your hands out to hold his jaw. "Awe, Bucky. So sweet, gimme some sugar." You giggled, planting a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

Bucky looked at the tinted gloss painted on your lips and groaned. "Oh, c'mon, get it off. Sam teases me enough." He frowned. "Ok, ok. Lemme see." You laughed, pulling him down closer by the back of his neck.

"Hey!" He whined when you left another one on the opposite cheek. "Now, you match. Want some more?" You teased, Bucky trying to wiggle away as you wrapped your arms around his sturdy waist. "No, no more sugar."

"Oh, all of the sugar. C'mere, big boy." You giggled, making kissy noises at him as his face went beet red, laughter bubbling from his chest. "Stop! We gotta- we gotta go."

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Bucky tried to keep his eyes from staring a hole into you the entire time you were at the club not far from the apartment. Occasionally glancing over Steve's shoulder to where you were enjoying yourself with Natasha, the hem of your dress lifting every so often to give a peek at the lacy underwear underneath.

"You listenin', Buck?" The blonde chuckled, snapping his fingers in front of Bucky to get his attention again. "Hmm? Yeah, I heard ya'." Bucky lied.

"Obviously not. You're staring so hard that it's getting creepy." Steve teased. "Is that drool?" Sam quipped, making Bucky mock laughter and roll his eyes as he lifted the glass bottle to his lips.

He had been waiting for a half an hour for a reason to ditch, seeing you shaking your head at a man who just stepped closer when Natasha walked away was the perfect reason.

"There goes Bucky, swooping in to save the day." He shot a look to Sam over his shoulder, snaking his arms around your waist and leaning to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck.

Your face heated up at the sudden action, but the look on the strangers face as he backed away made you give a soft smile and place your hands on the metal forearm that was around your waist.

"Ready to leave? I'm bored." He muttered as he pulled you away from the crowd and the lingering man, facial hair scratching at your skin as he talked. "My hero." You laughed, pulling out of his grip and waving to the group of friends who sat at the bar.

"Unspoken rule number three, it is my job as your roommate to save you from unwanted situations." Bucky smiled, pushing open the door to hold it for you. "What a gentleman."

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3am hit while Bucky was scrolling his phone. The weekly notification dropping down at the top of his screen.

This time, there were two new videos; Bucky's eyes going wide when he saw the title on the second one.

For the best tipper- Soldat107

He hesitated at first to click it, his hand slipping into the waistband of his briefs to grip himself when the video loaded.

The swirling in the pit of his stomach started quicker than he had expected. Bucky rutting his hips into his hand as his top teeth bit down into his lip to make sure you didn't hear him this time and eyes fluttering shut as he spilled over the edge.

Once he was done, his phone and headphones were thrown to the side. Being quick to clean the mess on his hand and stomach before leaving his room to go shower.

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The next morning, Bucky went on his run with Sam and Steve after breakfast. The main topic being how he hadn't asked you on a date yet.

"Just ask her and stop being a whimp about it." Sam said, nudging his shoulder as they walked up the stairs of the apartment building. "She's my roommate, that's what makes it more difficult."

"That should make it easier, Buck. You already know almost everything about each other, there wouldn't be any awkward silences if you took her out." Steve pointed, as if Bucky hadn't already weighed the pros and cons.

"It's also very convenient that her room is across the hall from yours." Sam nodded, making Bucky roll his eyes as he opened the door to his apartment.

You looked over your shoulder from washing the dishes to where he was walking in, athletic shorts low on his hips and hair tied up messily. "It was my turn to do those." Bucky said with a pointed look. "I got bored." You shrugged, feeling the heat from his form when he stood behind you.

"When most people get bored, they watch tv." He turned the water off and you turned to face him. "How was your run?" You asked, leaning back against the counter. "Annoying and sweaty."

You nodded, letting your eyes wander down to his sweat slicked chest. The shine making his muscular torso seem even more defined. "I can tell."

Bucky hummed in response and went to pull you in for a hug, your hands pressing to his chest to keep him away as a mischievous smile tugged his lips. "Get off, Bucky. I don't want a sweaty hug." You warned with a laugh. "You know you like seeing me sweaty."

Your face warmed and you curled your fingers under his to try to pry them from your waist. "Go- take a shower." You giggled, Bucky pouting as he backed away to go down the hall.

You could hear Bucky rustling around in his room as you put the dishes away, a call of your name making you walk into his view as he walked back into the hall.

"Have you seen my sweats?" He sighed. "Which ones?"

"Dark grey." You didn't let yourself look down as he adjusted the waistband of his briefs. "Check my closet if they're not in yours."

Bucky nodded and opened your bedroom door, going to looked through the folded clothes on the top shelf of your closet.

Not finding them there, he went to the trunk that was at the foot of your bed, thinking you kept more clothes in it as he opened it.

He choked on air when he saw the familiar sight of a masquerade mask along with the same backdrop the camgirl he watched and different sets of lingerie neatly placed inside.

"Did you find it?" Bucky heard your voice say as you got closer. "I fuckin' found something, cherry." He huffed, everything in him wanting him to just shut the trunk and forget he ever saw it.

You rolled your eyes and waved his hand away to shut it, folding your arms across your chest. "That's an invasion of privacy, Buck."

"I'm canceling my subscription." Bucky said, looking up at the ceiling. "You're what now?" You said, cocking your head to the side. Everything not clicking in place for you yet.

"I'm canceling." He repeated, looking down at you. The fact that Bucky had seen your videos settling in. "You- oh, god." You bit back a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

"Yep. Remember the best tipper? Me. Now, I'm gonna go take a very cold shower. Don't look at me for awhile, I'm embarrassed." Bucky turned to leave the room, you following right behind him.

"Bucky, please, don't make this weird." You whined, reaching to grab the metal of his wrist in your hand.

He stopped and let out a long breath through his nose, running a hand down his face. "Four months. You've lived here four months and I didn't know I watched your videos every weekend? I feel-" A visible shudder passed through him, a guilty feeling settling deep in his stomach along with a little bit of curiosity. "Lemme see it."

"See what?" You asked, letting go of his wrist. "The cherry. I wanna see it." He shrugged.

You rolled your eyes and turned so your back was to him before lifting the hem of your dress, pulling the waistband of your underwear down enough for him to see the tattoo.

Bucky swallowed thickly and moved his hands to cover himself, tearing his gaze away from your backside. "Yeah. That made it worse. I'm gonna go shower now."

🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒

A few days passed, Bucky hadn't mentioned anything else about what he had found in your room. Everything stayed normal, except the increase in lingering looks you'd catch.

And the curiosity of what it was like to film yourself doing such personal things.

"I wanna do it." Bucky blurted out as you handed him a beer and the bowl of popcorn. "Do what?" You asked, taking your spot next to him on the couch and grabbing the remote from the coffee table. "The thing you do."

You looked over at him with an amused smile. "You'd make good money doing it." You said, Bucky's eyebrows raising. "You think?"

"Well, obviously. Look at you." You breathed a laugh, gesturing a hand towards him. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, thinking over what he was about to say. "Do you ever think about... having a guest?"

You cocked an eyebrow at him, silently debating what he had said. Bucky had the build something like what you would see on a statue in a museum, a handsome face and delightful personality to match. You'd be lying if you said you didn't have some type of attraction towards him.

"You offering, Buck?"

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TAGLIST: @likeahorribledream @cxddlyash @iwannabekilledtwice @bookstan0618 @glxwingrxse @yliumy @pineprincess @makbarnes @cupcakehinch @doasyoudesireandlive @magicwithinnightmares @preferredrealty @andy-is-gay @stucky-my-ship @marvel-3407 @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @i-l-y-3000 @avoxzy @impala1967666 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @supernaturalbae @bucky-hues @suchababie @eireduchess

@mrsbarnesinmyimagination @rachellovesloki @teenagedreams-bucky

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #roommate!bucky fluff #roommate!bucky smut #roommate!au #roommate!bucky #roommate!bucky x camgirl!reader #camgirl!reader

[concussed-to-pieces]

Late July

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Pairing: Agent Whiskey [Jack Daniels]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit explicit.

Summary: Upon hearing about you from Tequila, Jack Daniels seeks you out with a full set of emotional baggage to work through. You happily oblige, helping him craft a scene that just might grant him some peace of mind. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @cookiethewriter @culturalrebel @jackierey09 @crookedmoonsaultpunk @duker42 @agirllovespasta @nelba @pedrosbigdorkenergy @lestrange2703 @youmeanmybrain @luvley-shadow @theocatkov @miscellaneousjunkk @reluctantlyresponsibleadult @buttons-beads-lace @gooddaykate @lackofhonor

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains consensual non-consent (surrender play), light domination, roleplay, unprotected sex, frank discussion of safe words, usage of safe words, dirty talk and light bondage. Remember that fanfictions are not research and that you should never engage in any activity if you do not trust your partner. Stay safe!]

There was just something about you that put people at ease, and Ginger Ale noticed during the interview process. "You have a gift!" She had praised you, her smile unexpected and bright. "I can see why Tequila recommended you for this position."

Granted, being the 'head of first impressions' at a distillery that was actually a front for a secret intelligence agency had its ups and downs, but you enjoyed the work and (if you were honest) the exciting interactions with the Statesman agents. 

Tequila, of course, would practically drape himself across your desk as he regaled you with (hopefully) exaggerated tales of his heroics. The two of you were sexually involved but preferred to keep each other at arm's length out of the bedroom, neither party particularly keen on surrendering your freedom and committing to anything serious at this point of your lives. You admired his dedication to Statesman, and he in turn respected your desire to have a successful career. He also was blatantly mooning over a certain analyst.

Ginger Ale was quieter and sharper than Tequila, her dry humor a joy to witness. She was the one who had done your interview, and she had given you the full behind the scenes tour once your background check went through. She was beautiful, charismatic and smart as a whip. You hoped to one day be as self-assured as she was.

Champ tended to keep to himself for the most part, though you had encountered him several times in the past when he dozed off in a certain chair at the end of a sunlit hallway. The elderly man was like an old tomcat, you decided, able to prowl but more than willing to take it easy.

Whiskey was often away managing the affairs of their New York headquarters and as such, was the one that you interacted with the least. He would come breezing in at all hours, a slow smile and a wink directed your way before he would saunter past. The rare occasions that he engaged you in conversation were nerve-wracking, as you were a little starstruck due to the glowing accounts both Champ and Tequila had given of his prowess in the past.

Ginger Ale was a bit more down to earth, thankfully. "He's just a man who's lost a lot, and his reasons for wanting to change things for the better may not be entirely altruistic." She had informed you concisely when you queried about the origin of one Jack Daniels. You had picked up on the veiled sadness in his dark eyes, the age that seemed to weigh him down that wasn't entirely related to years.

So when the aforementioned Statesman agent had drunkenly expressed a certain desire to you at a company party, you couldn't hide a little spike of curiosity. Mainly because the two of you interacted so rarely. Hell, you wouldn't even call yourselves friends. Tequila must have told him about your side activities.

"Ever since I lost her, I can't fuckin' bring myself to raw anyone else." The confession had come out of left field, but you had done your best to play it off like it was normal. Lord knew you had done enough paperwork in your career at Statesman to understand that agents would just kind of…say things thoughtlessly if they believed they were in a safe environment. A hazard of the job.

"What do you mean, Mr. Daniels?" 

"Call me Jack. Jesus, I ain't that old." He had hiccupped sharply, grimacing. "I just mean I...it's like a mental block. I wanna', I'm excited about it, and everything's fine until I try to come and boom. Python shrivels up like a damn salted slug and I'm left holdin' the bag tryin' to explain myself." He stared into his glass, looking pensive. "Real mood killer."

"Any idea why this might be?" You had prompted, leaning against the bar and idly scanning the throngs of people around you. It wasn't every day that so many of the company's rank and file rubbed elbows with the higher-ups, but you had to assume these economic mixers were what had kept the company (and intelligence agency) on such an even keel. It was a grounding experience, a way to remind the suits of their humble beginnings.

He scoffed out a breath. "Oh I know exactly why. When I lost her, I...we had only learned a little while before that she was havin' a baby. We'd been havin' a rocky time and we were actually thinkin' of breakin' up, but that news…" Jack had tilted his head to glance your way, his brown eyes distant. "If I hadn't gotten her pregnant, she wouldn't have been out shoppin' that day, y'know?" A sad smile had quirked his mouth beneath his mustache. "My fault."

At the time, you had made a noise of sympathy and gone to lay a hand on his arm before you could think better of it. He, instead of shrugging off your touch, actually ended up twining his fingers through your own and giving your hand a light squeeze.

Agent Whiskey's past was a shadowy affair in the Statesman organization. Though to be fair, no one really asked anything about anyone. Ginger Ale reasoned that the less people knew, the safer they and Statesman were in the event of a security breach. 

Anything you learned from any of the agents, you tended to keep close to your heart. It was your nature to gather useful information and foster trust for a rainy day. That personality facet had served you well as you had climbed the ranks from intern to head of first impressions, and knowing that you were someone that could be counted on to hold your cards close put many people at ease.

Including one Agent Whiskey.

"Tequila said you were good at helpin'. I'd be much obliged if you'd consider takin' a crack at my sexual baggage."

...

"Alright so for your words, you've decided on 'sixth' as your 'yes I'm into this', followed by second for 'slow down but don't break character', first for 'slow down and do break character' and finally neutral for 'full stop'." You tapped the customary notepad on your lap, glancing over at the man across the table. The two of you were currently sitting in the kitchen of the vacation cabin that your parents had willed to you, the modest dwelling often your staging ground for affairs like this. The warm wooden decor tended to make your partners feel more at ease and less vulnerable. Perceived safety was, after all, incredibly important when crafting scenarios.

Jack nodded. "Gears are easy for me to remember. Simple." 

"Got it. And no kissing on the mouth. Can I kiss you in other places, or would you prefer I didn't at all?"

"Kissin's fine." Jack allowed. "Whatever you wanna' do is fine, just not on my mouth." You jotted that down. "Hey, I uh...I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate you agreein' to help. I dunno' if this will work, but…" Whiskey rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Thanks. When Tequila mentioned your...extracurriculars, I figured he was jus' bein' outta' pocket again."

You grinned at that, giggling a little. "Does he get weird a lot?"

"I mean, he's uh...well, he's got his moments." Jack replied with a smile of his own.

"So," you hummed once you had checked your notes again, "after looking over all the information we've compiled, and the ideas you gave me an outline of, I'm thinking that you may want more of a 'surrender-play' kind of experience." 

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask how that's different from what I already suggested?" 

"Look, you and I both know that I couldn't keep you from moving if you wanted to. Now, if we had a real working dynamic going on and I believed that you would listen and trust me implicitly so that you don't end up hurting yourself or me, then we might have something. But as we are right now, that's not gonna' happen." Whiskey inclined his head with a rueful chuckle, acknowledging the truth of your words. "So I propose that it's more of a scenario where all the agency is removed."

The agent leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "Explain."

"You need a scenario where you aren't in control and there's not even a chance of you being in control, taking any responsibility or guilt from the equation." You elaborated. "Basically, you would surrender your control so that you can indulge guilt-free. A lot of people do this coupled with a roleplay aspect in order to test new things that may be out of character for them."

"You coulda' jus' said you wanted to tie me up, sugar." Jack drawled. "I'll show you some good knots."

"You don't have any issues with being secured to...I guess a chair, probably? We'll keep you upright. If we sprawl you out on a bed that might be a little too vulnerable." You reasoned, waiting for his nod before you wrote it down. "I know it sounds contradictory, but I want you to be comfortable in what we do. Should I leave your clothes on?"

"If you can stand to, I'd appreciate it." The man answered with a cheeky wink. "Bein' naked and restrained is a little too close to the job description." He sighed after a moment, tipping the chair backwards as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Now I warn you, if I'm supposed to be an unwillin' party, I may display a little less Southern hospitality and a little more Southern history with my language, if you catch my drift."

You pursed your lips, squinting at him. "...is that your way of saying you might use a naughty word or two?"

You received a lazy finger-gun in reply, "bingo, cherry pie. You got any names you ain't a fan of bein' called?"

"Oh! I mean, I've heard just about everything in the book." You straightened up as a thought occurred to you, and then pointed back at him sternly. "No slurs."

"Ma'am," Jack sounded aghast, "I am not that breed of Southern gentleman. My lingo can verge on the spicy, but I sure as hell wouldn't stoop to that level." 

You narrowed your eyes to drive your point home. "I really hope not." The agent inclined his head once more, putting a hand over his heart in a display of sincerity.

The front legs of the chair met the floor with a soft clatter, once again putting him on stable footing. "Now, I been wrackin' my brain tryin' to drum up a good premise like you asked, but I ain't exactly big in the screenwritin' department. I figure it could be kinda' like I'd been kidnapped? Drawin' a blank on why my kidnapper would be rawdoggin' me, maybe you can come up with somethin'?" He queried hopefully. 

You furrowed your brow in thought, going silent as you carefully considered the hodgepodge of contributing factors. "Oh, I think I can manage."

...

This deck had been rigged from the start. In theory, you knew that he knew that. Still, he was certainly acting like it stung his pride a bit that he'd fallen into your 'trap' so cleanly. 

Everything was going according to plan. 

Whiskey struggled against the binds that secured him to the kitchen chair. His whip was safely confiscated. Lasso out of reach. Hat was still on his head. He had specifications, after all. 

You left him to wriggle for almost half an hour while you got yourself ready. The man was a secret agent, after all. If he hadn't been restrained for much longer than that at any given point you would be very surprised. 

You finally opened the bathroom door, sauntering out into the cabin's small kitchenette. "Miss me, love?" You crooned, committing to your role as villainous vamp stereotype number six. You had worn a plain set of underwear and an oversized white t-shirt, soft and see-through from the amount of times it had been washed. You got the feeling that if you went more elaborate, you might scare Whiskey off or make him too uncomfortable to really get into it. This scene was all about trust, and he hardly knew you. But he had sought you out for this. All you had to do was follow through.

"Was beginnin' to worry that you forgot about me, ma'am." The agent drawled back, his smile tightly sardonic and his low voice curling hot in your belly. "You fixin' to untie me yet?"

You clicked your tongue, the noise disappointed. "Whiskey, sweetheart, where's the fun in that? If I untie you, you'll just kill me."

"Can't blame a man for tryin'." Jack was absolutely in his element right now. He looked furious. 

You ambled around behind him, slinging your arms around his neck and resting your weight on him briefly. "Remember," you murmured in his ear. "If you need me to slow down, or need to stop entirely, you say…?"

"Second, first and neutral." The agent replied readily. You patted his cheek.

"Good boy." You praised. 

"Ain't my first rodeo." Whiskey's tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips and you wanted to reassure him, but you knew you had a job to do.

"Now, can I get you a light refreshment? Something to drink? Maybe some chips?" You offered, moving to the small refrigerator that you had stocked a little earlier in the day. Planning was imperative for engagements like this. "I have water, sweet tea, Coke…"

"Dammit woman, stop beatin' around the bush! Why the hell do you have me hogtied to this damn chair?!" Jack erupted. 

"So rude." You chided him, removing a water for yourself and then leaning casually against the counter. "You really want to know, Mr. Whiskey?"

"Obviously." He scowled.

"Well be a patient boy and maybe I'll tell you." You hummed, not making eye contact as you unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. "It was more than enough trouble for me to get you here in the first place, big shot. Don't rush me."

"Listen, I'll be the first to tell you that I probably ain't who you're lookin' for." He said bluntly. "I'm just a simple liquor tycoon, nothin' more."

"Mr. Whiskey, if you continue to insult my intelligence maybe I will decide I've got the wrong man. And then I'll just get rid of you." You swirled the water in the bottle, fixing him with a thoughtful look. 

"You're talkin' a mighty big game, woman." Jack grumbled. 

You sloshed some of the water on your thin white shirt as if by accident, and began daubing at the gauzy fabric aimlessly. "Whiskey-"

"It's Jack." He spat.

"Oh, we're on a first name basis? How exciting!" You teased him, laughing when he muttered angrily under his breath. He was clearly enjoying the role of 'belligerent definitely-not-a-spy'. "Alright then, Jack. I won't beat around the bush, as you so tactfully put it."

"Hallelujah, some goddamn cooperation." He replied in a sulky tone.

"So, Jack, I need you to come inside me. Strictly so I can bypass Statesman's biomechanical security systems. It's nothing personal, I just assumed you would be the easiest target, you know?" You remarked with a shrug. "The flirty cowboy with the filthy mouth." He stared at you and you raised an eyebrow, half-convinced that his reaction was legitimate. "What? You do have a reputation."

"I hate to break it to ya', but you got the wrong beverage. You're lookin' for Tequila, ma'am." Jack retorted, his voice a little raspy. "You want...what?"

"I need you to come inside me so I can use the your genetic signature to bypass the security." Granted, you were pretty certain that Statesman used exclusively fingerprints, retina scans and time locks, but Whiskey had told you to weave a good story for the setup, not necessarily an accurate one.

Jack swallowed hard. "You've got bats in your fuckin' belfry, woman. You expect me to-"

"Oh no, that's the beauty of this arrangement." You interrupted him, still smiling. "I don't expect you to do anything aside from sit there and stay still while I ride you." 

"Jesus fuck woman, you--shit, isn't there some other way to do this? I ain't keen on the prospect, but if there's literally any other way…" 

"Sorry. This is the only solution that my superiors could get behind." You sighed, feigning regret. "And we might be here a while, from what I've heard." Jack's eyes darted to yours and he flushed, working his jaw. "Don't look so glum! I'm one of the best in my field. I'm sure I'll be able to compensate for your...lack of investment."

"You touch me and I swear to God-"

"Ah ah, naughty boys get gagged." You threatened gently, walking your fingers up the side of his face to stroke them back down his jawline. Jack glared at you, his dark gaze fairly luminous with fury and maybe just a touch of poorly-veiled interest. "Be a good boy and I'll let you talk as much as you want. Maybe I'll even let you play with my tits, hmm?" You asked, cupping your breasts through your still-damp shirt. "Would you like that, love?"

"I…" Jack trailed off, then snapped his eyes back up from your chest. "No!"

You tapped his nose, winking. "Oh I think you would. Don't be so stubborn, Jack." You cocked your head to the side. "No one from Statesman even knows you're gone. No one is coming to rescue you." You informed him, all the playfulness evaporated from your voice. "You're mine now, Jack. My own personal key-card."

"You won't get away with this." Jack snarled.

"I think I already have." You knelt between his legs, running your hands over the jeans that covered his thighs. He squirmed, trying to dislodge you, but you just moved with him. You dug your nails into his thighs. "You keep wiggling and I'm going to have to tighten the ropes, Jack. Is that what you want?"

"Oh you filthy fuckin' woman, you absolute bitch, let me go!" 

"Hmm," you tapped your chin as he kept jerking and straining against the knots. "No." 

Jack froze when your fingers unbuttoned the button at the top of his fly. "Now wait, wait just a damn minute, y-you can't--" he tried to plead.

"Oh I can. And I will." You looked up at him. "As long as we're in the right gear?"

"Sixth, sixth." He affirmed, flashing you a quick smile. You nodded and seamlessly resumed your play.

The zipper of his fly opened devastatingly slow, the agent exhaling raggedly when you pulled up his shirt and palmed his groin gently through the fabric of his boxer briefs. His cock was already half-hard, and you pointed that out with a mean little smirk on your face. "Oh no, looks like someone's interested." You crooned, rubbing your index finger over the head of his still-clothed dick.

"Fuck off, you...y-you-" he swore, rolling his shoulders as if he was testing his bonds. "You little bitch."

"Temper temper." You chided, ducking your head down to mouth over the fabric of his boxers. Jack gasped out another swear over your head, his hips twitching up to meet you before he slammed them back down. "Methinks someone doth protest too much." You snorted, splaying your fingers on the newly-revealed skin of his stomach. "We could make this so much simpler if you would just give in, Jack." You didn't miss the way his skin jumped at your touch, and you smiled against his boxers.

"You'll--you'll have to do better than that." Whiskey breathed. "You think just any ol' woman can get me up?"

You stood, leaning in close and pressing your mouth to his ear. His whole body flinched when you wrapped your fingers around his cock and gave him a nice, slow stroke. "Oh, poor thing. You must believe you're really special, hmm? God's gift to mankind every time you take someone to bed." You mocked, your teeth and tongue laving over his earlobe. "We're all so lucky to have you, Jack."

"Hhn-" Jack's shoulders went stiff, the man obviously biting his tongue. 

"You don't have a choice, sweetheart. I'm going to get you hard. Then, I'm going to use your cock. And all you have to do, my lovely, handsome cowboy, is come inside me." You informed him, drawing a finger beneath his chin. "More than once, preferably."

"I'm not usually a man to voice my own shortcomin's, but I must warn you that this will be a futile-" Whiskey's words hitched in his throat when you stroked him again. "Fuck, no, don't touch me like that, you--"

"Stop playing hard to get, Jack." You murmured, slinking your free hand up the back of his neck to massage his scalp right beneath the band of his hat. "Give up."

"Never." He hissed even as his head lolled forward, granting you more access to rub his neck. 

"Pity." You settled back down between his legs and wrapped your lips around his cock. 

"No, no, dammit-" Whiskey growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Don't you fuckin'...no, no, don't use your tongue the-ah f-uck--" His protest died in a pitiful groan when his cock met the back of your throat. "Oh, you--fuckin'--you've got to be shittin' me woman, the whole-?" He grunted out haphazardly as you relaxed your throat and took him all the way down to the base. "You think y-you can take advantage of me jus' cuz' it's been a while since I got laid? Fuck you."

You hummed around his cock, wanting to giggle when he twitched and swore loudly. Your fingers dove past the hem of your underwear, and you moaned against him as you ran your index in slow, steady circles around your clit. 

"I ain't fuckin' you, and I sure as shit am not gonna' come in your pussy." Jack snarled. 

"Oh yes you are." You sang, rising to your feet and slipping your panties off. The white t-shirt came next, baring your breasts to the air-conditioned environment. 

Jack seemed to forget that he was supposed to be vehemently against this yet again as he just...watched while you teased your nipples. You tugged at the taut peaks, rolling them between your fingers and making a show out of the whole bit. 

"I can't wait to have you inside me, filling me up, just pumping me full of your come." You said with a smile, sauntering over until you would be in reach if his hands were free. Jack's tongue made a nervous reappearance and you tugged his chin upwards so you could see his eyes. "Are we still in gear? Or do we need to shift?" You asked. He seemed slightly dazed.

"Oh! Uh, sorry, s-sixth." He stammered. "Sixth, holy shit."

"Mm. Don't disappoint me and maybe I'll let you live." You remarked smoothly, swinging one leg over his lap and straddling him. Jack's shoulders were rigid again and you kneaded at them surreptitiously, trying your best to keep him in the scene and out of his own head.

You were well on your way to soaking wet with arousal. There was nothing better than when you had a partner that trusted you, regardless of whether you had truly earned that trust. Just the fact that they had blind faith in you to execute the endeavor that they needed...it was heady and sweet and you loved every second. 

You rutted your pussy against the underside of Jack's cock, the man snapping his teeth at the sensation. "Too good?" You taunted, laughing when he swore again.

"I can't believe that you think I'm fuckin' enjoyin' th--look, any dick perks up at heavy pet-" 

Cutting Whiskey off mid-sentence was quickly becoming a favorite pastime, you realized as you angled your hips and let the head of his cock push past your pussy lips. "In, just a little, give you a taste, sweetheart…" you sighed, rocking your hips forward and back but not allowing him to sink any deeper into you. "There, that's not so bad, is it?" You cajoled as he shuddered beneath you. "Just keep being good, my sweet cowboy, and this will all be over so much sooner." 

"No, no-" He struggled to move, to do anything, but you had made certain to tie him exactly as he had specified. "Dammit, when I get free of here, I'll--"

"Shh, you think too much." You tapped your index finger to his lips, smoothing it over the bristle of his mustache. "Focus on your job right now, and everything will be fine." 

Jack turned his face away, inadvertently presenting the thick column of his neck to you. And you, channeling your inner villain, leaped at the opportunity to lick and bite at the bared skin. He made a strange noise, a combination of a moan and a whine that had you raising an eyebrow. 

"Is someone a little sensitive there?" 

"No, I am not." He answered through gritted teeth. "I hate that you're touchin' me, that's all!"

"Hmm, it doesn't sound like you hate it." You mused, suckling gently at the spot where his jaw met his throat. You were very careful not to leave marks, as that had been another specification. Whiskey struggled underneath you again, only succeeding in pumping his cock up into you slightly.

"Don't, don't--" His voice actually cracked and you smiled, nuzzling your nose beneath his jawline and letting his dick settle deeper.

"Oh no, it seems like you do want to fuck me after all." You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back and stroking over the base of his cock with two fingers. "Warming up to the idea of being my little fuck toy, Jack?" You teased, noting the way his knuckles whitened from his grip on the rope and his Adam's apple bobbed with the force of his convulsive swallow at your words. "I could just keep you here like this forever, you know. All tied up, helpless for me…" You squeezed the base of his cock and he gasped, trying to stifle the noise. "Soon, I'd have you trained so that you couldn't come from any other pussy aside from mine. Wouldn't that be fun?" 

Without waiting for an answer, you let the last few inches of his dick enter you. You leaned back on his thighs, feeling the muscles coil and strain beneath your touch as you reached down and grazed your clit. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, those brown eyes fixated on the motions of your fingers even as his cock split you open. You were grateful that he was secured, you weren't sure if you would have been able to take him otherwise. His cock curved thickly against your back wall, the engorged head throbbing back and forth over the area that made your whole body shudder in delight. 

Whiskey's jaw was taut, his shoulders set in a rigid line that made you ache to get him to come undone in you.

"You're so quiet." You pouted, raising your hand and brushing your wet index finger over his slack lower lip. "Aren't you having a good time?"

His chest abruptly expanded, like he had forgotten to breathe for a moment or two. "Fuck you." Whiskey seethed, making you chuckle softly. "I ain't nobody's goddamn fuck toy."

"Sweetheart," you chided as you sat up. "That's not a very nice thing to say to the person warming your cock right now." You deliberately clenched down on him and Jack swore under his breath, shaking his head. "I can make you feel so good, Whiskey, if you just give me what I want." You insisted, cupping his face and pulling halfway off of his cock. 

"N-N...No." He replied weakly.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and shaking out your shoulders. "Well, I tried." Your hands landed on his shoulders and you gripped down to steady yourself, your hips meeting his own with a wet slap! of skin. Jack's chest heaved, his eyes closed and head tilted back as you began to ride him roughly. "All I wanted was for you to come in me. I don't feel like that's asking for much!" You complained petulantly, rolling your hips against his when he was hilted in you with an agonizingly slow grind of your body.

Jack bit out a low "fuck," those tense shoulders trembling under your touch. You tucked your face into his neck to tease the sensitive area even more, your tongue tracing random patterns that made him squirm and writhe underneath you. "I don't--can't, can't, don't make me--" he tried to protest, his words fractured and pitiful. 

"Yes you can, and you're going to." You snapped, taking a handful of hair at the nape of his neck so you could urge his head back further, leaving his throat at your mercy. "You're coming in me, Jack! Give up!"

...

"First!" He choked out, and you immediately slowed to a crawl. Your touch on him gentled significantly, no longer demanding but cradling, caressing. 

"Easy, easy." You soothed, the unrelenting assault of your perfect hips gone to a slow and careful rhythm, back and forth like a porch swing in the summer heat. Your eyes searched his own, concern shining through.

Jack was speechless, his blind panic melting away at the sound of your regular voice. What the hell just happened? He licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they had gotten. "Sorry, I uh-"

"No apologies." You murmured. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Would you like to stop now?"

Whiskey took a long moment, running a mental check on his body. Nothing was sore, nothing seemed out of line. Everything was raring to go. 

Everything aside from his brain, that is. The damn thing wouldn't stop conjuring up scenes of you pregnant and everything going to absolute fucking shit. It didn't matter that he had zero attachment to you, it didn't matter that you were on birth control. This was how it always was. 

Every damn time things got serious with a new interest, "oh, let's start a family," Whiskey just wanted to curl up into a ball. Without fail, like clockwork, he would shut down. 

And then the accusations would start, the distrust, "How come you can do it with protection but not without?" and it was disheartening, crushing to go through again and again. Explaining didn't seem to do a lick of good, it was always just that he was stringing people along, that he was a damn selfish prick, that he didn't care about what his partner wanted.

That couldn't be further from the truth, of course, but maybe that was his own fault for not dropping the bomb before getting attached to someone. He just couldn't ever seem to justify asking a person on their second or third date, "hey so what's your thoughts on having kids?" It felt manipulative, cheap, and if he was being honest, he knew for a fact that sometimes just the idea of having children was enough to scare a potential interest off. 

You were the first person to try and help Jack really wrap his head around this whole issue. And yeah, that was the whole point in sussing you out, but…

Tequila didn't tell him that you actually gave a shit, or at least you were damn good at acting like you did. Whiskey bit his lip. "I'm okay." He said finally, trying for a smile.

"Anything chafing? Do you need some water?"

"I…" Jack trailed off. "Huh, I admit I am a bit parched. But that means you'd have to get up." He realized unhappily.

"Were you enjoying yourself?" You asked, sounding curious. 

Whiskey got the hysterical idea in his head of you pulling out some sort of satisfaction survey at the end of your engagement, the notion making him smirk slightly. "God, yeah. I...yeah." He flushed a little bit. "Dunno' if I ever got this far after…after all my mental hangups and stuff. The fact that I don't have a say in the matter seems to be helpin', though."

"Okay, don't go anywhere. I'll get you some water." You patted his thigh, cautiously settling your feet on the floor and then going to stand with a quivery little gasp that absolutely stroked his ego.

Jack couldn't help his own groan at the loss of your heat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Damn it woman, has anyone ever told you that your pussy is fuckin' perfect?" He muttered, his usual honeyed words suddenly clumsy in his mouth. "I mean, hell."

You laughed, bending over to dig in the small fridge for another water. Whiskey felt his entire body throb at the sight of you presenting yourself to him like that, and he sucked in a breath at your obvious teasing. Even in the soft light of the kitchen, he could see the glisten of the wetness between your legs. Hell yes, he found himself thinking stupidly as you turned back around. 

"I'm just glad that you're doing alright. That's the most important part to me, after all." You assured him, unscrewing the cap on the water and tipping it to his lips.

Jack gulped greedily, feeling a few droplets escape his mouth and run down his neck to blot his collar. "I am. One hundred percent." He said firmly after he had slaked his thirst. "Let's keep goin'."

"If you're sure, absolutely." You acquiesced, smiling again. Placing the water bottle on the kitchen table, you then swung your leg over his thighs like you were vaulting back into the saddle. Jack held his breath, waiting for you to welcome his cock back into your body. And God he was so hard, he couldn't remember ever being this hard, what the hell--

But strangely, you didn't immediately resume from where you had left off. Instead, you put your arms around his neck and actually rested your forehead against his own, bumping his hat upwards. 

Jack swallowed roughly, confused. 

"Let me take this from you." You whispered. Whiskey felt pinned by your stare, he felt as if you could see every terrible thing he had ever done, every transgression laid bare under the weight of your gaze. "Let go of it. I have you. I won't let anything happen to you." 

The words washed over him, soft and sweet. Your fingers slipped up into the hair at the nape of his neck to toy with the mussed ends that lurked there. The whole exchange was oddly intimate and Jack found himself at a loss yet again, simply grating out, "sixth," when he couldn't come up with anything else to say.

You reached down and stroked his cock, rubbing the head of it against your clit. And Jesus he could feel you, the difference in heat, the slick--

"Are you gonna' take it from me, sweet girl?" He hissed through his teeth like it wounded him to ask, trying desperately to cling to the illusion that he wasn't willing. "Take everythin' I've got?"

The blur between reality and this playdate was getting messier by the second. He wanted to fuck you, wanted to bury himself in you, spend every last drop inside the hot embrace of your quivering cunt. He wanted that. Jesus Christ, this wasn't part of the bargain.

This was a pantomime, specially designed pornography that existed only to coax a very specific reaction from his confused body. So why did he wish he had met you years ago? Why was he suddenly hoping and praying that the sounds you were making were legitimate instead of exclusively for his benefit, hoping that you were also enjoying this?

You angled your hips and sank back down on his lap, your hands going to your breasts where you proceeded to fondle and tease them until your nipples looked like they ached.

Whiskey fucking ached himself to wrap his lips around one pert little peak, swirl his tongue across the tip and make you come undone, rut his dick up into you until you cried out his name and soaked him--

Whoa cowboy, he chastised himself, a little startled by how sharp the longing was. You just kept fucking yourself on his cock, that hot, wet little pussy molded perfectly to every ridge of his member and he had never been this hard, this ready in his life. Despite the air conditioning in the cabin, your skin shone with sweat from all the work you were putting in and Whiskey couldn't recall a time where he had been more appreciative of someone else accomplishing a task within his field of vision.

Your hand slipped down, down, and Jack found himself following the trajectory until it delved between your legs and you started playing with yourself. "Jack," you crooned his name and it was like a prayer, reverent and soft, tender enough to coil itself around his lungs and choke him to death without a whisper of protest. You parted your legs even wider in his lap, exposing yourself to him so he could watch his cock slide in and out of you, so he could see himself fucking you open.

"Are you gonna' come for me, sweet girl?" He gasped, craning his neck and managing to tilt his head so he could mutter into your ear, "you just gonna' wrench one out for me, beautiful?"

"Mm, no, I'm not coming until after you come." You whimpered, still moving your hand. "But I'm so close, Jack. I want to come."

Your plaintive whine had him ablaze. God, he had never wanted to please someone so damn badly in his life. "I know you do, sweet girl." He murmured huskily, exhaling hot over the shell of your ear and loving the way you quivered in his lap. "You're so good, lettin' me blow my load before you get off--gonna' pump me dry when you come, aren't you? Just keep me inside you until that little pussy is all fucked out," he growled, barely aware of the words that tumbled from his mouth. 

All he knew is that you were all a-tremble at his voice, your body as hot as late July against his chest, your eyes heavy with adoration that he did not deserve and God, he couldn't get used to that look even if it was fake. What if you stayed? he wondered absently. What if you stayed?

Oh fuck, he was about to come. Panic jabbed like the blade of a knife between his shoulder blades and Whiskey went silent, his teeth bearing down on his lower lip and his eyes slamming shut as he focused harder than he ever had in his life.

The smell of you, the sounds, the heat, the little spasms of your cunt around his cock…

Yes. Yes, God yes, he could do this-- 

"Come in me, sweetheart." Begging him, pleading, demanding, "Jack-!" You cried his name.

Whiskey groaned hoarsely, so low it was almost painful, and let go. He bucked his hips up against you as best as he could, minute little thrusts while he came harder than he had in years. "Oh," he snarled, gritting his teeth, "fuckin' Christ woman, I think you've ruined me, Jesus fuck."

Your hands threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck again and you held him, not tightly, but just enough to keep him steady, anchored. "There," you said abruptly, the snide, put-upon tone of your role contrasting wildly with the gentleness of your touch, "was that so difficult?"

Jack burst out laughing, not overly concerned with how strange of a reaction that was. Hell, was he relieved? "Jesus fuckin' Christ, you're great." He remarked breathlessly. "I don't even know what just happened."

"Oh?" You replied, raising an eyebrow. "The mess between my legs seems to allude to you possibly having an orgasm. Jury's still out though."

He grimaced apologetically, glancing down. "Sorry darlin'. It's been a while, y'know?" You rose up off of him again and he grunted as his cock slipped free from your body. Whiskey felt half-drunk, relief and release combining into a potent cocktail that left him boneless in the chair. 

You quickly put your shirt back on and then crouched at his feet, beginning the arduous process of untying him. Jack just sat there, watching you drowsily. He couldn't do much else, really. "Any numbness or chafing?" You asked quietly, stirring him momentarily from his daze.

"Nah, nothin' yet." He replied, straightening his freed left leg and rotating his ankle in his boot. "A little stiff, but I've survived worse than that." 

"And how do you feel?" You questioned, "physically and emotionally."

Jack gnawed at his lower lip, trying to force his sluggish brain past the haze of serotonin in order to give you a satisfactory answer. "...good." He said finally, scrambling to elaborate, "or uh, better, I guess. More okay than I've been in a fuckin' while." It wasn't a lie, he was surprised to discover. He hadn't actually put much stock into this endeavor, figuring it would be a fun little diversion that would end just like every other time. Of course, it didn't hurt that you were easy on the eyes, prettier than a peach if he was being honest with himself.

Your smile was bright and Jack's stomach knotted confusingly. "I'm glad."

His right leg was released and he shifted his weight in the seat, groaning happily when his hip popped. "Hey, wait." The agent belatedly realized, "you didn't-?"

"We were here for you." You reminded him. "Not me."

"Whoa now, that don't seem fair at all!" Whiskey protested, taken aback by your nonchalance. "You just put in all the work!"

Your laugh tripped down his spine like an aftershock. "Don't get bent out of shape! It's standard policy, Mr. Whiskey. Once the desired result of the scene has been acquired, the scene ends and I start with aftercare."

"B-But--you didn't get to get off though!" 

"Me 'getting off' wasn't specified in our planning." 

"I needed to specify that shit?! I figured you'd just kinda'..." His right arm was free now and Jack seized the opportunity to make a certain gesture, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, I was at your mercy!" He continued, bewildered. "You totally coulda' just kept goin'-"

"Yes, and that's exactly why when the desired result has been achieved, the scene ends." You interjected firmly. "Because you trusted me enough to let me take control, and I'm not about to break that trust by doing something selfish on a whim."

Jack exhaled hard, scooting his hat a little further back on his head so he could study you. You didn't look disappointed, or annoyed with him. He wondered how many times you had fielded ignorant questions like his own and he cringed at himself. "I'm...shit, I'm sorry. I don't have any right to be all shitty about it." He apologized as you moved out of his field of view to untie the rope securing him to the back of the chair. "I just feel like you worked so hard an' got nothin' out of your end of the bargain."

"It's sweet of you to be concerned about that, but don't take it personally, okay?" You assured him, "I do this because I enjoy it. The whole experience, not just the finale." The ropes around his chest sagged and Jack slid forward a bit in the seat, relaxing. 

"Can I get that water again? Christ, I need a cigarette and a tumbler of the strong stuff after all that." He joked, clumsily tucking his cock back into his boxers. You pressed the bottle to his hands and he nearly dropped it, chuckling self-consciously. "Whups, sorry. I had my fists all bunched up so my fingers are stiff." Jack proceeded to down the rest of the bottle, wiping his mouth and mustache with the back of his hand after the fact. "So...what exactly is it you do for Tequila?" He queried nosily.

You laughed at him and God, God he loved the sound of your laugh. "That, Mr. Whiskey, is on a need-to-know basis. Just like this little soiree between the two of us." You chided, your eyes bright with good humor. "I would never violate a partner's trust in me."

Jack tipped the bottle in your direction, as if making a toast. "I'll drink to that, partner. What's next on the menu?"

"We'll talk out the scene and wind back down. Get cleaned up. I'll probably…" you paused, squinting at the clock over the sink. "You want some pizza? There's a joint not far from here that serves pies and chicken wings until midnight."

Jack groaned appreciatively, "I knew you were my kinda' gal. Lead the way to the debrief, ma'am."

It didn't really matter in the long run, he supposed. You obviously weren't interested in anything serious (if only because he figured that your flings with the stereotypical 'bad boy' Tequila would have become more regular in spite of the younger man's painful crush on Ginger Ale), and he could respect that. Still though, he couldn't help feeling a touch morose over the possibility of never engaging with you again. 

He toyed with the idea of asking you for another 'appointment', but dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it arrived. Better to quit while he was ahead.

Or rather, he amended ruefully as he settled down across from you in the diner booth, his hair still damp and curling slightly beneath his hat from the quick wash he had indulged in at your cabin, better to quit now before I make even more of a fool of myself.

Part Two

#jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #kingsman: the golden circle #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character #agent whiskey imagine #consensual noncon #whew where did this come from #enjoy! #working things out

[softly-mossy]

    anyways my best friend right now is barker. he deserves someone caring about him you fucking cowards. and that someone, is a kitty kitty

[ao3 link]

Not for the first time, he wakes up on the floor.

    His skull throbs and his temple is tender (implying he didn’t get down here lightly), leaving him dizzy and woozy. Overall, his body feels like deadweight--which it should be, his addled brain snaps--and he’s reluctant to move.

    The apartment is hazily lit, the light on the nightstand fuzzy and stretched through his bleary eyes. It has the same odor as always, the same chaotic arrangement, the same mess he’s intended to pick up for months now, the same liquor bottles stacked haphazardly on the table and countertops.

    He comes to the disappointing realization that he’s blacked out again. Tilting his head to the side tiredly, he spots the bottle in question, long since emptying onto the floor in a foul-smelling puddle. He should clean it up before he busts his ass on it. He’d argue that it should be done before it ruins the floor, but it’s so far-gone that he isn’t bothered with caring about it anymore. 

    Feeling a cool waft of air pass over him, he shivers and moves to stand. He’s left the goddamned door open again while he’s in such a vulnerable state. Barker scolds himself harshly. The IMC no doubt is still on the hunt for him after his abandonment and ultimate betrayal, not to mention bounty hunters looking to cash in on the fifty-grand credit reward on his head.

    Try as he might, he can’t muster the strength to move, let alone sit up. Even as he tries, his body protests loudly and furiously. 

    While wallowing in self-loathing, he hears something. Slight, almost undetectable, except for the apartment being silent.

    Desperately, his hands search for his pistol. They check his empty holsters reflexively, leaving him with a sinking feeling. 

    The nightstand.

    He cranes his head to look up on the short stand. Sure enough, his pistol rests on top, the clip sitting parallel to the barrel. 

    So, this is it. This is how he goes out. On his back, belly-up, in possibly the worst scenario imaginable. Fuck, they probably strolled in through his front door that he left ajar.

    The floor creaks as something steps on it.

    He gets a surge of bravado that he acts on. “C’mon out, fucker,” he seethes. “‘M not goin’ down easy.”

    The floor creaks again as whoever it is proceeds closer. Whoever they are, they’re light on their feet. Their movement is barely audible. 

    Mustering all the strength he can, he shoves himself to sit propped against the front of the couch-- he should at least face his demise full-on. His hand snaps out to grab the pistol and clip, fumbling to insert it with shaky, uncoordinated hands. Barker swears to himself at his own incompetence until the clip finally clicks into place.

    “Won’t say it again,” he hollers. “Get your ass out here!”

    Something hums from where the footsteps are coming from in the kitchen. Shaking fingers go to prime the gun. He aims, horribly offset and wobbly. 

    What rounds the corner is not his demise, somehow.

    The little orange tabby patters into the doorway crookedly. She seems to have made herself at home--she doesn’t cower away from Barker when she sees him. Distantly, he realizes the damn critter has probably been sleeping on his bed. 

    Frustrated yet relieved, he empties the gun and puts it to the side. “You lil’ shit,” he curses, “‘bout scared me to fuckin’ death.”

    The tabby looks at him calmly. He notices one steel-blue eye is cloudier than the other. Her skinny and matted, obvious battle scars showing up through the orange-striped fur.

    She’s probably feral, he realizes. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen strays roaming the streets. Though, it is the first time he’s seen one with the gall to come inside. 

Tabby comes meandering in towards him boldly. As she nears, she stops to curiously sniff at the puddle of whiskey that had spilled onto the floor. 

    “No, that shit’s bad for you,” he chides. How ironic, Barker!

    Something within him nags away at his conscience. He’s capable of at least giving the poor thing fresh water or something. The adrenaline high is still strong from thinking his end was near. With a heaved sigh, he gets his socked feet under him and props himself up against the couch.

    The Whiskey Kitty  startles at his movement, skittering away but quickly returning to peer at him curiously with a chirr. Her head is angled to keep her good eye on him. He clods to the kitchen with as much coordination as a hung-over man can garner. 

    Whiskey Kitty lets out a small, trilling mrrp! as he passes by.  For the grown-ass man he is, it goes straight to his heart. He’d stoop over to pat her head were he not worried about keeping his balance. Instead, he goes straight for the cupboard, fetching a shallow bowl and running it under the tap. Once it’s filled, he shuffles to the kitchen table to plunk down in a chair. Once seated, he sets the dish on the floor.

    Whiskey Kitty hauls ass over to the dish, drinking from it almost feverishly. He feels a pang in his heart: how long has it been since someone’s looked at her twice? Barker finally caves in to the urge to touch it, carefully leaning forward to hold his hand out. 

    He misses by a long stretch. 

    Cursing to himself, he goes to sit back up, but Whiskey Kitty seems to have noticed the gesture. Clumsily, she bumps her head into his palm and rubs happily. Something like a rough, garbled purr starts up from within her. It’s strong enough to shudder the cat’s whole body.

    How long has it been since she’s felt safe enough to let her guard down like this? Hell, how long has it been since he’s been able to let his guard down? Jolting in realization, he realizes the door is still wide open to the night of Angel City. In a hurry, he clambers to stand and rush over to close it. Whiskey Kitty follows him stride for stride.

    At the doorway, he gestures for the cat to leave. “Shoo,” he says half-heartedly. When the cat stares at him with the yeah, right, asshat look in her eyes, he gives up. 

    “One night,” he promises. “You can hang out overnight. That’s it.”

    Whiskey Kitty seems to understand the crack in his facade, moving to slither between his ankles happily. When the door closes and the lock clicks, she backs away and utters a quick, quiet ah! at him. 

    “You expect me to feed you, too?” he groans. What the hell does he have that’d be fit to give a cat, anyways?

    As he turns back towards the kitchen, Whiskey Kitty takes the lead, trotting past him with her tail tall and curled at the end. When he finally returns, she’s seated up on the tabletop with her tail wrapped neatly around her paws.

    “No, c’mon,” he groans. “Get down.”

    She stares at him knowingly. 

    “‘M serious,” he begs.

    She blinks.

    With a huff, he turns to the fridge. “Fine. Asshole.” He rustles through the meager contents inside--mostly bottles in various states of half-empty. The only thing he can find that he thinks would be fit for a cat is a carton of strawberries. The urge to grab one weighs heavily on him, so he fetches the carton and shuts the door.

    Back at the table, he stares face-to-face with the Whiskey Kitty. He distinctly sees the cloudy cataract in one of the cat’s eyes.Her face is marred with old scars, and he distractedly notices a deep wound on her shoulder.

    “You’re a scrapper, ain’t ya?” he muses. The cat stares back at him. Tentatively, he reaches a hand out, surprised when Whiskey Kitty hardly even flinches. “You used to b’long to som’one.” He’s amazed Whiskey Kitty still trusts humans--he sure doesn’t. Humans are sleazy and scheming, and if his time in the IMC was any indication, gutless cowards that have pawns fight for them.

    Whiskey Kitty jolts him out of his dwelling by bumping her head against his fingers, searching for more contact.

    Mah! says the cat.

    “We’ll find a good home f’r you,” he promises. “I’m jus’ an old drunkard that can’t do jack shit anymore. Otherwise, I’d…” he huffs, because it’s true, “keep you myself.”

    Remembering that no, Whiskey Kitty probably hasn’t had a meal in days, he flicks the carton open and breaks a small piece of a strawberry off for her. Immediately, she licks up the juice leaking from the piece, purring contentedly. 

    “You’re a good girl,” he tells her. “You don’ deserve what th’ world dealt you.” She pays him no mind, instead nibbling on the red flesh of the berry happily. When she looks up at him, she licks her whiskers contentedly. 

    He feels drained. His back hurts from being on the floor for god-knows-how-long. The telltale thumping of a headache is present in his head, making him sigh and rub his temples. He grabs a strawberry out of the carton and bites the greens off, popping the entire thing into his mouth. Through the dryness and aftertaste of the liquor, it’s splendid. He finishes his handful, giving Whiskey Kitty her fair share, before standing and stowing the carton back in the fridge. Standing nearly sends him careening into the counter, making him brace with one arm. 

    Whiskey Kitty sees him moving, hopping to the floor with a small thump.

    “You’re cute ‘n’ all, but you ain’t sleepin’ in my goddamn bed,” he tells her. She looks up at him curiously, seeing right through his ruse. Flustered, he turns his back and thumps down the hallway to his room, flinging the door open and throwing himself on the mattress ungraciously. He’s still moving from the mattress pushing back against him when he feels something hop onto the bed at his side with a small noise. “Ugh,” he groans. He supposes some cat hair on his sheets can’t be any worse than stains.

    He stays sprawled out on his stomach as his eyes drift shut slowly. The quiet of the night and, for some reason, the notion that he isn’t entirely alone tonight almost, almost makes him calm. 

    Beside him, he feels Whiskey Kitty curl up in the crook of his arm neatly before settling. He can hear her purring again, something that helps him settle down enough to drift off to sleep.

#robert barker taube #titanfall 2 barker #titanfall 2 #angel city elite #uhhhh #whiskey kitty #i need a titanfall tag #ya fool back at it!!!!

[emokpopgal]

Entanglement - PART 1

Yandere! Ghost! Kyungsoo (D.O.) x Fem! Reader

Warning/s: Mention of suicide, violence, and guilt-tripping. Read at your own risk...

Part 1

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Empty. 

It's all what Kyungsoo can describe the world before him.  He weakly stands on his bathroom floors, eyes staring at his reflection in the mirror. His swollen eyes have developed bags underneath his eyelids accompanied by his build that obviously decreased in weight. He hadn't eaten properly ever since she left.  He hadn't felt alive too

. What he only feels are the turmoil of sadness, guilt, and betrayal inside him. These feelings are what weighs heavily on his chest and he had cried so much that no more tears made its way out of his eyes; it's like he has evolved to be numbed to the effects. He feels like an empty husk of his former self.  It's all my fault. He says to himself.  He felt like he was the one to blame in putting such a relationship to waste. The 10 years of memories and hardships, gone. Their marriage, forgotten. If only he had changed sooner. But he couldn't figure out why. He did give her everything— a roof over her head, his undying love, and a lavish lifestyle. What more could she want? All he wanted was for her to stay, but how could she betray him like this? She promised him that she will stay by his side for all eternity and this was evidenced by her accepting the ring at the time of his proposal. He also promised to change his ways, and he did. But she still left.  It has been a week since she abandoned him and the memory continues to play on his head like a broken record.  "I want to break up." "What...?" "I said I want to break up, Kyungsoo. I can't handle this anymore!" "Jagi," Kyungsoo he says to her. He attempts to grab her hands in which she immediately swats away.  "Is there something I did again? surely we can sort this out—" " I don't think I would want to sort this out again, Soo." "And why is that?" He questions. "I want to END this..." Y/N answers. He couldn't believe what she was saying. Is she really trying to do this now?  He thought.  "End... " He repeats, inquisitively. "A-are you serious?" Y/N, in response, just lowers her head and diverts her gaze on the floor. She's not the type to joke around on these type of situations. Her silence is enough to send him the sign that she is indeed serious on what she's saying. Anger is slowly building up to him. He can't fathom her intentions on abandoning a long term relationship and the marriage that is drawing near. "END?!" He shouts. "What is this bullshit, Y/N?! You want to END all we've been through?" He then plunges his fist into the wall, leaving light cracks on its surface. He's slowly loosing himself and is beginning to give in to the intensity of his emotions. Y/N flinches from the noise. His manner of speaking is starting to frighten her, but she promised herself that she won't back down. Even in the midst of fear, she forced open her mouth. "I-I don't care anymore, Soo! I don't want the marriage, and I...I—!!!" "YOU what Y/N?!" He threatens. "You don't wanna be with me anymore?" "Yes, Soo. And this is not—" "Oh please!" He interjects, kicking the furniture next to him. "This again?! Oh come on Y/N, you're really breaking it off when IT'S 6 MONTHS BEFORE OUR WEDDING?!" He's doing it again. Instead of reasoning out, he reverts to guilt-tripping. It's all because he's blinded by the emerging feelings inside of him and the rising fear of her leaving. He can't stop, he doesn't know how to and this is the only thing he knows on how to respond to these kind of situations. Deep inside, he wants her to take back all what she's saying. Anger is his weapon, but this time it wont affect her as much. "FUCKING YES, I AM!!!" She finally snaps, angered by his reaction and childish choice of actions.Now, she's using the same tricks as his. "Why? 'Cause you don't love me anymore? You don't LOVE me, who gave you everything for the past 10 fuckin' years?!" Yes, keep going. Tell her everything you did and throw it in her face, she is nothing without you. Let's see if she still has the guts to leave... "You really want me to answer that, Soo?" Y/N challenges him. "FINE!" Kyungsoo's eyes widens, fearing the possibilities of what she might say. "Soo, I can't love you anymore, you kept on HITTING me. And for the past 10 god-forsaken years, you still haven't learned to control your goddamn jealousy! I've endured all of this, because I LOVED you! But now I just can't take this anymore!" It's true. All of this is true. But he just simply cannot control himself, and again, he doesn't know how. And he just loves her too much to the point that he must do things in order to make her stay, even if it means that she will answer to his hands.  But he changed didn't he? He even got some help like she always asked him to do. Was that not enough for her? "B-But I've changed Y/N!" He says, with tears starting to form around his eyes. "Tell me... When's the last time? It was like, months ago remember?" She remained quiet again, this time staring at him with mixture of sadness and contempt in her expression. "...Remember?" "Soo..." She says. "After the last time, my love for you started to fade away..." It puzzles him even more. What does she mean it started to fade away? Was he living with the mirage of her loving him all this time? "What?" He says. This is now his breaking point."What do you mean...?"  "I don't love you as much anymore." She bluntly replies. "I thought I would love you again after you proposed. But I did not, especially the time you did it again..."  Reminiscing those painful memories brought tears to Y/N as well. She can remember the pain of his broken promise that he will change for the better. The pain of his fists landing to her body and his insults towards her left a mark that she definitely won't forget.  Then it hit him. The words that came from Y/N became a knife that pierced through his chest that sliced and cut his heart into a million pieces. He felt his body go numb as his tears made its way out if his eyes, trailing down his face. This can't be true — she couldn't possibly mean what she says, right? They have fought like this before and still managed to be together. Surely this will all pass and she will come back again. Or so he thought. "Y/N, y-you can't possibly m-mean that, r-right?" Kyungsoo pleads in between his sobs. "Please t-tell me you don't mean that!" "I meant what I said." Y/N hisses out. She rolls of the sleeves of her blouse, revealing her arms filled scars and cuts that came from Kyungsoo's beating.  "All of this was from you, Soo! And I think this is  alone is enough for me to end this." She covers her arms again and fixes the sleeves of her blouse. She takes an item from her purse, and brings it in front of Kyungsoo's face. The item was their engagement ring. It's silver luster and reflectious diamond stone mimic the light of the sunset rays coming from the window. "We're through." She says, then she proceeds to throw the ring across the room.  The ring bounces off of the opposite wall and falls in the red, mahogany floors of Kyungsoo's house. It's impact on the floor emits a sharp tinging sound. He didn't attempt to look at where the ring has landed off to for he was still frozen of the events happening before him. She then takes one last glance at Kyungsoo, with the sharpest gaze she could muster. "This talk is done, goodbye Doh Kyungsoo. Don't contact me ever again." Y/N turns around and walks towards the door, but before she can reach the handle, Kyungsoo reaches to her, wrapping his arms on her waist with his face resting on her shoulder. She could feel his tears dampening her shirt. Why is she feeling bad? "Please," He says, sobbing. "P-please don't leave me! I will make things right, I'm sorry! I know I can't control myself sometimes but I swear I'll work on myself! Just don't—" Y/N sees the hysteric state the he's in. She is starting to feel guilty about what she is currently doing, but it has been decided that she would leave their toxic relationship. What is the essence of lavish living if she would just constantly live under his fists everyday? It's time that she should think about her own wellbeing rather than their both. She tries pry off his hold to her, but he won't budge. He is stronger than he looks.  "Kyungsoo please..." She pleads as she squirms in his arms. "It's going to be the same again! Just let me go." He then lets go of her. It became clear to him that she no longer wants to do anything with him. He watches her make her way outside his house as she slams the door in front of him. Y/N is his whole world, and always will be. She was his savior from his own darkness, but the down side to that is, in certain times she takes all of it. The outcome of this is their frequent fights, leaves Y/N as always the loser, evidenced by the painful marks left on her skin. He did gave her everything, as he said. But...She still chose to leave Going back to reality, he stares at the object sitting at his sink. He's been contemplating of doing it, since he lost everything the day he lost her. However, he sets this plan aside for the moment, because he is yet to bring her back to him. He'll even beg in his knees if he has to. -----  SM Telecoms is the company that Y/N works for. On the foot of the building is a café, where he and Y/N would usually meet. This is where he often picks her up— he even knows her favorites from their menu.   The café's exterior was made up of windows huge enough to see it inside, which is usually filled with customers from or outside the company. This is Y/N's hang out place after her work hours. Kyungsoo's car was parked parallel to the café, granting him a clear view of the place, even when he's on the other side of the road. He patiently anticipates the time she goes to the café. After a few hours of waiting, he spots her on the building's lobby, with her peers around her, seemingly chatting about some stuff he doesn't care about. She looks so normal, as if nothing has happened to her. He makes his way outside his car and crosses the road to meet her, which in turn just ends up him standing outside the building's entrance. There he can see her better, as she and her friends enter the café on the entrance on the building's lobby.  He decides to observe them some more before barging in. Two of her female friends went to get their orders while she and a particular male friend sits on a spot together.  They are sitting in the same side and appears to be chatting. Y/N seems to be enjoying it as she laughs along with him.  She doesn't laugh like that around me... He thought. He took one step towards the entrance, then stopped again to take another glance at her. She looks so happy with them. This made him hesitant to continue on his intentions because he also thought that it would do nothing. It's pointless coming in here... I should just leave her alone. That's what she wants. It might be his excessive jealousy, but seeing her with another guy sent an overbearing amount of anger and hurt in his nerves. He can't continue on his plan anymore, for it appears that she had found someone else to lean on, therefore there is no point of him pursuing her. He confirmed it— she doesn't love him. He went back to his car, and drove away with such speed. The car ride back to his house was absolute hell -- he drove carrying the feeling of heartbreak and loneliness with small tears clouding his vision. He almost got caught for over speeding and even thought of crashing it to the traffic in front of him. He blames himself, yet he's pins all of this at her. He loves her, yet he loathes her.  Days have passed, but he still feels the same. He even sent her hundreds of messages and missed calls, to which she didn't even bother to answer. His mind is slowly succumbing into madness. He abandoned everything — his family, his work, and his life is coming next. His family and coworkers are wondering where he is, because he's not even responding to their messages. He's closed himself off to everyone.  He thinks that there is no more point in living, especially if she's not in there. The one who gave him purpose has thrown him away. Everything reminds him of her, and it's driving him insane. He wants her so bad but he can't have her anymore. All of his irrational thinking is clouding the clarity of his judgements and its spiraling him out of control. Drowning within the emotion of anger, sadness, and betrayal, he grabs the object that has been waiting for him for so long.  His handgun. He begins loading it, and switches it off to safety.  He takes one final breath, and then proceeds to point it on his head. The index finger of the hand that holds the gun brushes on its trigger, and in a split second. He fires. He brought his insanity in his grave. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Local Man commits suicide — Cause unknown; no letter found. Calling...

Mrs. Doh "Y/N! Y/N!!!" The voice calls to her in the midst of crying. "My dear Soo! *sob* H-He's gone! My S-s-soo's gone!!!" Y/N can only stare at the tv, wide eyed, with regret slowly creeping up to her. It's all my fault.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Love is like wine as many would say; the longer it gets, the sweeter it tastes. But in the case of Y/n and Kyungsoo's relationship, the 'wine' in their 10 year relationship has grown moldy that it leaves a very strong, unpleasant taste. This only signifies that the love that binds them together has not been nurtured well, therefore creating a very sickening and pungent flavor. A flavor that only Y/N tastes between the two of them.  In the beginning, she thought that he was the one. Others would say that she is lucky in having him in her life— very hardworking, mature, and has a future planned ahead of him. Y/N, on the other hand, compliments him. She is known to be steadfast yet loving and soft; a kind that every man needs. If one were to only view the tip of the iceberg, their relationship would be described as a "dream" relationship.  But plunging further to its depths is where things goes in a much darker turn. Their relationship became toxic as she began to feel trapped under his spell. It's very suffocating, knowing that someone is slowly gaining control of your life.  For her sake, she decided to end it all. But where did it land her? Did she get any satisfaction from what she's done?  The sky is painted gray as countless of droplets plunge into the earth from the skies. It seems to mourn with them for the loss of their beloved Soo. People dressed in black has their tears mixed with rain as their wails adds to the sound of thunder that ravages the clouds. She stands in front of him, yet she couldn't take a look on where he's at. She's at pain too, and its because of the mixture of sorrow and guilt that she feels. She does cherish a handful of good memories with him, and she did love him nonethless. But she never expected that he would go like this. She also knows herself that she has something to do with this "Y/N," his mother calls to her. "I think this belongs to you. We found this at his house... I think you'll need this." In his mother's hand was a shiny, silver ring decorated with a big diamond gem — their engagement ring. It still shines despite the gloomy weather.  She doesn't know why, but something's compelling her to not take the ring. It radiates a certain negative force, causing her fear that screams in the back of her psyche. She's afraid of the item, because it reminds her of him. Noticing that Y/N was not taking the ring, she grabs her left hand and proceeds to insert the ring on Y/N's ring finger. "Please don't loose this," she says to her. "This is the only thing that binds you to him..." They say that emotions get left behind on certain places or items. An example of this is the feeling of happiness, or nostalgia, upon seeing an item or a place that has made a special connection to you. This is also like looking at a photo, wherein as you look into the pictured world presented before you, you either feel the sensation of joy, longing, sadness, or any emotion you think attributed to the picture.  This is the case for the ring he left for her. The memory of betrayal and anger has marked the object, thus Y/N sees this as something dreadful. These certain emotions harnesses energy emitted by the mind, thus attracts certain entities or beings beyond human comprehension. However, If these emotions are strong and lingered long enough, the entity it attracted will find it difficult to leave, because it has already made a strong connection to the emotions. What she thought she has left can never and WILL NEVER leave her at this point. The ring was still in her hand as she made her way back into her own home. Night came and enveloped her room in moderate darkness, with the moonlight shining on her. Her eyes can barely figure anything in the dark, yet it is still open. The longer she sees the ring, the more powerful the guilt grows inside of her, eating away what's left of her sanity. She is alone in her current house with no housemates or relatives to keep her company.   She closes her eyes, yet she can still see his tear-stained face, begging for her. Finally, she delves into sleep  but unbeknownst her, a pair of watchful eyes observe her in the darkness. It feeds off her strong emotions that is caused by the memories that haunts the ring. He promised to take her back, and he will. Even if he's in the afterlife. 

A/N: I finally did it! My first post!!! More coming soon though, please be patient with me. Also, I do apologize if I took too long, did a lot of last-minute changes. Feel free to DM me to help me improve my work. Criticism is accepted, just as long as you are nice about it. See you again on the next part! ^____^

#exo #exo k #yandere #kyungsoo #yandere exo #yandere kpop #yanderekpop #kpop #baekhyun #kai #chen #sehun #chanyeol #suho #yixing #xiumin #yandere nct #nct

[xxrainstormxx]

Save it for the Doctor. Spencer Reid x Reader.

(A/N: this is based off a writing prompt. "You're... beautiful." "And you're concussed") Word count; 2,475 Part 2 (edit: my pleas for requests for stories are not reaching people so I will beg here. If you want a oneshot I’ll write it. Prompt or no prompt.)

I had heard a lot about the recent murders. I even had seen a few almost survivors on my mom's operation table, yet somehow I was wrapped up in the middle of it. Smack in the middle. No normal citizen even knew the FBI was investigating the murders and yet I was being interrogated. The man who sat in front of me was just mean, he wore a serious look and his eyes never moved from the narrow eyed glare he gave anyone who walked by and especially gave me. I was happy to cooperate, but the minute I was under fire I was fed up and wanted a lawyer. I was no killer, I had no upper body strength to move a dead body and believe me, I would know how much a dead body weighs thanks to my mom training me. I was a tired college student trying to get my damn degree so I could move on with my fucking life. And I was not in the mood to be interrogated when I could be working on my thesis. The mean man, Agent Hotchner I believe was just staring. I guess waiting for me to break or some shit like that? I don't know. I wasn't talking first. I didn't care anymore and this resulted in a match of silently staring waiting for the other one to speak. This went on for what felt like an hour but was probably closer to at least three minutes, I just sighed, "I cave." I sighed muttering curses as I shifted in my seat. "Go on, ask your questions I have a thesis to write and I would like to go home to continue it," I reluctantly urged on. He leaned forward in triumph I think as he demanded answers from me. "Where were you the night of Synthia Robbin's disappearance (Y/N)?" he began dwelling on the poor girls name. It made me frown, she was a 13 year old girl, a child, and she was gone. Kidnapped and found dead. It made me sick to think of what could happen to her. "So that's what this is about?" I hissed disgusted with the accusation "I was at the library with Emmalin." the mention of my sister's name made him further darken. "Your sister, correct?" he inquired. I rolled my eyes, "Yuduh" I sounded sitting back. "All your time is accounted for?" he continued leaving me puzzled for a moment. "There were maybe ten minutes in between where she left to find a book." I murmured unsure if the truth was the right thing to say as he stood and pulled out a file and threw it on the table making me flinch. "What about the night of Chris Bennidict?" he asked "A s-sports game" I stuttered "A baseball game I think. Rockies vs Rangers." I said shaking a little as he threw down that files some of the pictures falling out of the boy, shot twice. "Eunice Quiet, Quiara Basson, Basen Unice, Lynch Gryse, and Philip Jence!" he got  louder with every file he threw at me. "You were near by every single scene and you fit most of our profile" he concluded the pictures that fell out made me physically sick. Children, those poor babies. I sobbed and turned away gagging, he wasn't convinced it was real but I knew it was and up came the vomit that was caught in my throat.

I had no doubt I fit their profile but I worked part time at a daycare. Children were my life line, and it mad me sick to see them hurt. He answered a call and left the room leaving me there to cry over the pictures. A brunette woman walked in and sighed taking me out of the handcuffs attaching me to the bolted down table. "Come on sweetheart. We'll get someone to clean up that." she sighed very tired, I wanted to know why. They brought me out to the main area of the station and sat me down. They slowly cuffed me to the desk and I cried softly. I looked across the station to see Emmalin "Emmy!" I called but was ignored causing me to frown. So I shut up and listen to whatever raving was in my defense, "My baby sib? A murderer?" she asked "well... it isn't that hard to believe," she said making my jaw drop. "They've always been a little too obsessed with the idea of death." A lie, I had an emo phase and so did she, "Introverted" well partially true. "and well she creeps out her friends," she finished causing me to stand suddenly, "Liar!" I shouted "You fucking liar!" I cried ignoring the pain and stress on my wrist the hand cuff was causing. I was now a 45 degree angle due to the cuffs keeping me in place. She seemed genuinely shocked i was there. "Why are you trying to pin this on me. Your own sister!b You were with me everywhere we went and those bodies were found. Why aren't you being questioned too? Did you lie? Did you say I was the only one there?" I screamed as I was sat down. She hissed at me and most of the agents took notice. Agent Prentiss, the nice brunette sighed and walked to my now horrible sister and asked her to follow her into a different interrogation room. It felt like hours that I was sat there, and a curly haired man was sat in front of me just reading, or what I thought was faking, really bad faking. "Why are you even sitting here if you're just going to pretend to read?" I asked the "doctor". My mother was a doctor and I didn't believe this boy was any kind of doctor. I had gotten to know his name as Doctor Reid and I wasn't allowed to call him an agent so I had no other choice. He just looked at me thrown for a moment before shaking his head "I'm not pretending" He stated as he shifted "No one can read that fuckin fast ya damn liar" I muttered not necessarily hostile just a little vexed. "I can. Did you know that our unconscious minds can process sixteen bits of information per second? Our conscious minds, however, can process sixteen million?" I sat back unimpressed "You are... absolutely insane" I laughed "Insane, perhaps but I'm not being accused of murder." he stated, and my smile that i worked so hard to get disappeared "You think I did it too." I muttered, it was meant to come as a question but instead it came as a statement. He shook his head "Not fully, while you do supposedly fit the profile our profile, our unsub wouldn't inject themselves into the investigation. The one part that doesn't fit" he said sitting back and crossing his legs turning to the board filled with evidence, and all those pictures that made me sick sat right next to the happy photos of the children in their school uniforms smiling big. I tried to focus on those "Well maybe your profile is wrong, cause this is sick." I hissed "(Y/N), you're here most likely because you were in the wrong places at the wrong times. Kids being picked up and murdered minutes apart from each other, while you were out with your sister at those locations? It's not very probable."

I just sighed knowing he was probably right "There aren't many coincidences when it comes to murder" he stated "Out of uh... curiosity what is an unsub? No normal person knows that is." I muttered as I tried to avoid the board, the thought of being in those places, not helping those kids, not even having a clue what was happening made me sick. "Unknown Subject" Dr. Reid said mumbling "Why aren't you uh... looking at the board. I thought you'd be proud of your work." He said as if to egg me on. I rolled my eyes "Those pictures make me sick." I muttered "I work at a daycare, it's my job to protect kids not watch them get hurt. I don't wanna see dead fucking children!" I shouted realizing I probably sounded fucking crazy and definitely like a kill. I hung my head in shame. "I know... I know it isn't fair to blame myself for what happened to those kids, but being in the places of the crime, the same night it happened, it makes me feel like I could have and should have done something. Something other than just sit there and wonder." I whispered "Yeah I feel guilty now but, not of what you think" I whispered looking to the board once more focusing on the pictures of the children when they were alive. "Sweet innocent babies... Never done anything to anyone. Probably were crying for their mom." I whimpered at the thought "They didn't deserve any of what happened" I looked away once more thinking about the mothers. "Moms.... Their moms" he stood up as if he had a damn epiphany nearly knocking me backwards in the chair. "Morgan, it's not an attack on the children it's an attack on their mothers." He said starting to put of pictures of older women. "think about it. They all went to the same cafe every day. It wasn't the day care, so it can't be (Y/N). They wouldn't see much of the parents" he enthused writing things down that I could not decipher because his hand writing was absolute shit. "But wouldn't that just give them more reason? They think these women are bad mom's for working instead of taking care of the child, and wants to teach them a lesson?" making him shake his head "That's stupid, if they wanted to make them suffer they'd just kill the women themselves, it'd be much more efficient and wouldn't lead to them doing the one thing they would dread doing!" he said circling one name on the board. Emmalin. "That's also sexist. Women work, children can't go with. Why would I have a fucking problem with that" I shouted across the room. "Who fits the profile while also holding these sexist values." Reid stated more than asked pointing to Emma's name again. "Oh dear god." he sighed "But my sister isn't a murderer!" I cried. "She's connected to the murders... and she's made it clear she doesn't think women should work." Morgan stated and went to the interrogation room. "You are a life saver (Y/N)" Reid said kissing my cheek out of pure joy, and I slapped him as a natural instinct and turned red "Shit! I'm sorry! I'm not used to boys doing that if they aren't being creepy! But at the same time that was really fucking creepy" I yelped as he held his face and laughed "No it's fine. Got too excited to fix what felt like a huge mistake." he said, and when I say I turned red I mean red. This was the first time I'd seen him as a human. Not a super genius, not as an agent, not an asshole. Just a normal guy with pretty eyes, a good jaw line, soft hair, and the sweetest smile I had ever seen. The blush was apparently very clear on my (skin color) skin because he hummed and smiled "Did you know blushing is speculated to be caused by a sudden rush of adrenaline making our blood pump faster." I giggled a little "Is that why you're so flushed?" I asked as he blinked not understanding just how damn pink he was after that rant. "Guess so." he shrugged. the door opened and out came Emmalin and she grabbed a ceramic vase off a desk and slammed it down onto Reid's head and ran away quickly. He fell to the floor because it was a heavy fucking vase, and I freaked out as he hit his head on the desk on the way down.

"Shit!" I yelled as half of them chased my very obviously guilty sister and I sat in shock as two of his friends rushed over to help him. Morgan uncuffed me and I blinked "Spencer?" Agent Jareau asked worried and I sat down next to him sitting him up and grabbing a water bottle slashing it on his face "Do not fall asleep." I said firmly "You could very well have a concussion." I said as an ambulance arrived quickly, he was cearly not feeling good because of the way that he was acting. I was worried about how sick he looked. He threw up half way to the hospital so I was told. I went with because I didn't feel safe with my sister on the run and an Agent in the hospital. Well I guess he wasn't an agent he was a doctor. The doctor, not Spencer, came out and i stood with the other two very worried. "He'll be fine. He has a mild concussion." as i thought "but he's awake, and on some pain medication. I take it you all know the situation and his limitations in the field?" he asked and Morgon and Jareau nodded "You can go back to see him now" he said and stepped aside "come on" Jareau said quietly to me "oh. Agent, I don't think he'd want to see me." I said quietly. "I'm sure he would like to know you came. You won't make a very good profiler if you can't even tell that Reid enjoys your company. And call me JJ, it makes it easier," she said giggling and pulled me right back with her and Morgan. "Hey man" Morgan started "What happened?" he muttered groaning in pain. "You got hit with a vase, took a pretty sweet fall, and got a concussion" JJ hummed arms crossed as she leaned on the wall. "Shit." he muttered making me giggle. "Oh hey!" he said when he saw me. "I want water, and jello" he muttered making small lip smacking sounds. "Morgan and I will get it" JJ laughed leaving me in a very awkward situation. "So umm.." I began before being cut off. "You know.. You're beautiful" he said staring at me causing me to snort "And you're concussed." I laughed shaking my head "Well, a concussion based on the severity doesn't necessarily affect your judgement of a person especially if it's a first time thing. I thought you were beautiful long before I was concussed but you were a suspect. Suspects being beautiful, hard to comprehend sometimes." I laughed "You're a dumbass" I snorted "But I-" he blinked and i walked over pecking his lips. "How about a date sometime? I'll give you my number" I said quietly. "Yeah... okay..." he whispered. "A date."

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds oneshot #part two?

[fuckingthefictional]

Shelby’s stick together

A/N: requested by @shady80smusicsingercolor hope you enjoy, sorry it took so long- I’ve been super busy was college work! Xx

Masterlist

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Sister! OC

Warnings: swearing, racist slur used in historical context, super fuckin long.

Olivia Shelby and Linda Shelby did not get on. Plain and simple.

They didn’t get on one bit.

Liv maintained that Linda had barged her way into the family and had forcibly changed Arthur into someone he quite simply was not.

Linda however maintained that Liv was just being bratty and selfish and that she was hogging her brothers all to herself and never wanted them to be happy.

Which was wildly untrue. After all Esme was Liv’s other sister in law and Olivia got on like a house on fire with her.

When they had first met they had only slightly clashed, it wasn’t a big deal.

Arthur strolled up the blackened streets of Small Heath, Linda grasped onto his arm out of what must’ve been fear or anxiety.

To Arthur however he owned the space, people feared him and this place was his home.

He had no issue with the workers or the fire fuelled factories, or the children running barefoot in the streets together- it was as normal as could be, even the whores that littered the corners didn’t cause him to bat an eye.

This was Small Heath. His safe haven.

Linda however was tense on his arm, her eyes shooting around frantically.

It was clear she was afraid of meeting the one and only Olivia Shelby.

Everyone else had been civil to Linda (for Arthur’s sake) but Olivia was another story.

Polly claimed that Olivia had the Gypsy blessing of judgement.

Or being able to tell what a person was truly like- or what their true thoughts were at first glance.

Making Olivia unpredictable in her reactions.

And that was where they first disagreed, The Shelby’s called this power a ‘gift’ or a ‘blessing’, Linda called it Witchcraft and blasphemy in the highest.

Unfortunately it didn’t take long for Arthur to locate where his youngest sibling was (thanks to Jeremiah)

She was down by the cut with Isaiah (which was unsurprising considering the two of them flirted back and forth continuously)

It wasn’t long before the eldest Shelby heard the giggles of Olivia, and the chattering of Isaiah.

“Now what are you two doing out here alone?” Arthur boomed teasingly, purposefully trying to frighten the teens.

“Shit!” Olivia jumped, tumbling backwards and landing with a splash in the river, “Arthur you fucker!”

Linda flinched at the language being used as the other boys laughed heartily and dragged Liv out of the murky depths.

“Liv, this is Linda.” Arthur gestured to the woman stood awkwardly on the bank, “My fiancé.”

Olivia took the woman in, she didn’t like the judgement that lay in her eyes. The slight frown that she tried to keep hidden suggested that she had negative ideas of Olivia already.

Liv was clear on one thing- she didn’t trust Linda one bit.

It was frustrating to Liv. She had always been feisty (courtesy of the Shelby genes and the Gypsy blood running through her veins) but when this ‘good Christian woman’ was around she couldn’t help but make snarky comments.

But that didn’t mean Linda couldn’t hit back with harsher, nastier comments.

The needle that broke the horses back occurred the day before- resulting in Olivia to purchase a train ticket to London to stay with Ada for a while.

She was desperate to get away. The comments coming from her sister in law were enough to beat her down day after day. Liv was certain that Tommy had noticed a difference in her, after all she was closest with him.

All Olivia did yesterday was glare slightly at her sister in law, and in return got a mouthful of insults from the devil blonde.

It hurt, it was embarrassing, and even worse it had hit a sore spot in her heart.

Because Linda had mentioned the Shelby’s mother- more specifically how Olivia was the cause of her own mothers death. How it was all her fault.

That one hit close to home.

And now here Liv was, sat on a train that was heading to London. A train that her family (minus Ada) had no idea she was on.

//

Tommy was stood at his sisters bedroom door, his fist pounded insistently at the slab of wood.

Every knock that he made were all answered by silence. It made him feel anxious- Liv always answered the door to him. Always.

“Liv?” He presses his ear against the door, “Liv let me in please?”

Tommy twisted the knob again, but the cool metal was still locked against the latch.

If there was one thing that Tommy prided himself on, it was being patient with his youngest sister.

Sure, he was protective of Ada and they got on- but they had never seen eye to eye on most things.

Olivia, however was Tommy’s soft spot. Ever since she was tiny, she’d been able to melt his heart. He’d learnt to be patient for Liv, and he’d continued to do so.

But considering Tommy had been knocking for a good 15 minutes to no response, his worry began to erode at his patience.

Weighing his options, Tommy quickly decided on attacking the door one last time...with a strong kick.

The door cracked and flew off the hinges, leaving splinters littered across the floor.

Only one thing was apparent to Tommy however, the room was empty.

The wardrobe was cleaned out and Liv’s one and only stuffed animal which she slept with was nowhere to be seen.

Tommy’s heart was thumping out of his chest painfully. Olivia wouldn’t just...leave.

Unless she felt as if she was a intruder in her own family or was being pushed away.

He felt his feet thump on the floor, a sign that Tommy was in fact walking away from the room. Moments later he found himself in the betting den.

Esme, Linda and Lizzie were sat at their desks chatting away- as John, Arthur and Polly were crowded around one of the many finance books out of Tommy’s office.

Nobody had seemingly noticed his presence- until he spoke loudly.

“Would anyone care to tell me why the fuck Olivia’s room’s fuckin’ empty and her shit‘s gone.”

Everyone’s head turned sharply at this. Esme, John, Arthur and Polly paced forward- clamouring in confusion and fear.

The only person who was sat still and unbothered was the small figured blonde who perched on her chair, a smug expression painting her lips.

//

Kings cross station was always busy- it didn’t matter what time you arrived. It was always crowded.

So it was a blessing in disguise that Olivia Shelby was short in stature and could slip through small gaps in the crowds.

Liv didn’t have a plan if she was being honest. She had enough money for a taxi- maybe a hotel room if Ada wasn’t home.

With these new thoughts in her mind, Liv picked up her pace and rushed to the street outside.

It may have been just past 11 o’clock in the morning, when the taxi dropped her off at the street corner where Ada’s home was located.

Olivia, tired and mentally drained, ambled to the front door. She rung the doorbell, waiting as she heard the excited screeches coming from Karl on the other side.

Seconds later, Ada’s face appeared as the door swung open- immediately Liv embraced her older sister, trying to find some comfort.

She was upset and just wanted some peace and time away from the hurtful comments.

When evening fell and the sun crept beyond the horizon, Olivia was awoken from her slumber by the sound of the front door being opened and heavy, rushed footfalls running up the stairs.

Liv could feel her heart rate spike in fear, as she hid under the covers like a young child.

“Livvy?”

It was Tommy, immediately she came out from the linen sheets, and stared at her brother who came forward and embraced her in a tight hug.

“Thank God you’re okay,” he mumbled into her shoulder, “I thought something bad had happened to you.”

“I’m okay.” Liv whispered back, although it sounded like she was trying to convince herself as she spoke.

Tommy broke the embrace, as he cupped her face in his hands- searching her eyes for truth.

The moment she looked into her older brothers calculating gaze, Liv just found herself breaking down into floods of tears.

The older man perched on his little sisters temporary bed, scooping her up like she weighed nothing and cradling her in his lap- like he did when Liv was little.

Tommy continued to rock his sister comfortingly, it pained him to see someone he loved so much this upset.

Finally the question arose, “Livvy, What’s got you in such a state?” He asked unsure of the response he’d get.

Olivia took a deep, shuddering breath before responding, “Linda, we’ve been arguing for a few months now. I don’t trust her and she doesn’t respect me. I hit her with snarky comments and she hits me back with ones that hurt twice as much.”

Tommy nodded along, it was obvious the two girls didn’t get on. But Olivia just grit her teeth and bared it for Arthur’s sake.

“And for months she’s been saying this horrible stuff, ‘you’re ugly’, ‘you have witches teeth’, ‘freckles make you look like you’re permanently ill’, ‘it’s not surprising that the only boy who’s attracted to you is a negro’, and then yesterday she told me it was my fault that Mother died- that I killed her.” Olivia cried, tears breaking again, “And I hate myself Tommy, I’m unlovable- it should have been me that died not Mum.”

“No.” Tommy said firmly, “Don’t you ever say that- never say it again. You are my little sister, my little gypsy princess.” He stared at his young sister, “You are kind, brave, smart, loving and beautiful an’ Isaiah is lucky to have someone like you to love.”

At this point Olivia had tucked herself into the crook of his neck, almost as if she was hiding from the truthfulness in his words.

“An’ most importantly, you were not the cause of our Mothers death. You and Finn had no part to play- she was sick Liv, if she hadn’t of died when you were born then she would’ve died a day later.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you Tom.” Liv said in a apologetic tone, “And making you drive to London in a panic.”

“I’d do anything for you Livvy, you know that,” Tommy replied, hugging her tighter and kissing her forehead, “You’re a Shelby- and if that’s not enough for Linda then she can kiss goodbye to our family and Y’know why?”

Olivia smiled, “Because us Shelby’s stick together.”

#peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders #peakyblinders #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #sister!reader #sister!oc #tommy shelby x sister!reader #thomas shelby x sister! reader #thomas shelby x sister!oc #tommy shelby x sister!oc #cillian murphy #request

[scarlettwitcher]

Baby Girl Chapter Four

Summary: Y/n tried to avoid her past with a certain Statesmen but when they’re partnered back up for a mission that could cost millions their lives, Y/n must make the right choice. (This is the Kingsman: The Golden Circle movie basically in writing with reader insert. I recommend watching the movie, it’s amazing! It’s on Amazon Prime Video.)

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Agent Gin(Female Reader), Tequila, Ginger Ale, Eggsy, Merlin, Champ, Harry, mentions of Poppy, Charlie, and Clara

Word Count: 3,306

Warnings: angst, canon typical violence, fluff, cursing, really bad insults

Author’s Note: We are now halfway through this series ladies, gentlemen, and my nonbinary friends. Taglists will be updated soon so if you would like to be tagged for Forevers, Dean Winchester, Marvel, Henry Cavill, or Pedro Pascal, please let me know! REQUESTS ARE OPEN! As always, thank you for reading and feedback is always welcome/needed.

Previously..

You were exhausted after the many sessions you both had and you were asleep, tucked into Whiskey's side. His arm was wrapped protectively around you, holding you tightly against him. You didn't expect this side to him but you loved it. You slowly stirred in your quiet slumber, knowing you had to return to the agency to prepare for anything to appear for the mission. You felt a heavyweight against your hip and you smiled, remembering everything from the night before. You never expected things to go this way but you were happy. You turned in his hold for a little, and watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful, like all the worries that weighed heavy on his shoulders were gone. You loved seeing him like this and you silently vowed to yourself to try and help him feel like that more often. You leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before deciding to get up for the day. It was going to be a long day and you felt it in your bones.

Now..

Slowly pushing Whiskey's arm off of you, you stood, stretching and wincing. There was a dull ache between your legs and you willed it away. He had gone rough on you, taking you several times, barely any time to breath. He had missed you just as much as you missed him and he showed just how desperate he was for you. You didn't think a man of his age would have that much stamina. You knew there was a huge age gap between the two of you. Big enough to where you could pass as his daughter. But the two of you didn't care. You loved each other and that was enough. Walking over to the mirror to rub any makeup smears away, you stared at your body, seeing all of the bruises, hickeys, and bite marks Whiskey had left on your skin. Ginger was definitely going to give you shit for returning to the agency like this. It didn't help that the bastard left them on every surface that couldn't be covered by your outfit. 

You changed quickly, slipping on your shorts and simple black tank top back on. You found your cowboy boots, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on. As you pulled the first one onto your foot, you felt a thick arm wrap around your torso, your shoulder being kissed delicately. "Morning baby girl." You hummed as his deep voice was rougher from just waking up. 

"Morning baby." 

"What time is it?" You slipped on your other boot, standing up and turning to face your lover as he sat there sleepily. 

"It's 9:30. We should catch up with Eggsy and head back before Champ has our heads." Whiskey nodded as he kissed the back of your head before getting up, walking around in his naked glory. You couldn't help but stare at him. Even though you spent the night making love to him, seeing him still brought a deep blush to your face. He noticed this and smirked, walking over to pull you into his arms as he kissed you roughly. 

"Still can't get enough of you." You laughed and pushed him back, trying to put a stern face. 

"Stop it. If you keep touching me, we'll never leave this tent." Whiskey chuckled as he shook his head, collecting his clothes that were tossed all around. 

"Who said I wanted to leave when I can have you all to myself?" You bit your lip and you looked at him as he slipped his jeans on, not buttoning them yet, leaving them hanging low on his hips. He knew you were watching him and he thrived under your stare. 

"Soon Jack. This mission will be over and we can have some time to… catch up." Whiskey raised an eyebrow and smirked as he finished getting dressed. You bent down, collecting the rest of your things as Whiskey moved quick, slapping your ass. You squeaked out at the sudden contact, glaring at him. Truth be told, you loved when he spanked you but if he kept teasing you, you really weren't going to leave anytime soon. 

Whiskey behaved himself as you finished getting ready, and you met up with Eggsy at the jet. He gave you a curious look as he stared at your skin. Eggsy wasn't going to question how you got those, Whiskey's smug smile was enough of an indicator. Whiskey smiled cockily, the smug bastard knowing exactly what he did. He laid his claim on you. You flew back to Kentucky and met up with Ginger in her lab. She showed you how the tracker was online and updated you on Tequila's condition. "So, Gin are you going to tell me what happened at Glastonbury?" 

You rubbed the back of your neck before clearing your throat. "I talked to Whiskey and he, uh, well, we caught up." Ginger looked at you concerned but she saw the way your eyes lit up when you talked about Whiskey. She had watched you suffer and she didn't want you to fall down the same hole you did. You placed your hand on her shoulder and you smiled genuinely. "He said he loved me Ginge... You and I both know he wouldn't ever say it unless he meant it." 

Ginger smiled softly, placing her hand on top of yours in reassurance. "Just be careful Gin." 

"I will." You placed a soft kiss on her cheek before walking off towards your sleeping quarters, knowing a restless Whiskey was waiting for you. A few days after arriving, news of the lepidopterist regaining his memory circled around the agency. Eggsy and Merlin were ecstatic, circling the poor man as he came to. You didn't blame them. They had lost everyone and the fact that they had their friend back was good news. You had bonded with the brit during his stay. He taught you many things about butterflies and sometimes when you needed a silent company, you would visit his room and sit with him as he studied his butterflies. Now that he regained his memories, the boys wanted to catch him up.

The five of you decided to go out for a drink, driving down to the closest bar near the agency. You all slid into one booth, Whiskey, you, and Harry on one side and Eggsy and Merlin on the other. Whiskey was taking a sip of his drink as he moved his hand on your thigh just as Eggsy finished catching Harry up. “Now that we've finished the debrief, Harry… Here's a couple of welcome back gifts. First up… a brand-new Kingsman watch. Advanced software, it can hack into anything with a microchip. It is bollocks.” Eggsy held up a fancy looking watch, handing it over to Harry as he looked at it a bit amused, slipping it on.  And Merlin…”

“I made you these.” Merlin placed a glasses case on the table in front of Harry and smiled, as he watched him grab it. Harry opened the case and let out a soft ‘ha’ as he looked down at the glasses. He placed the case down, pulling off his eyepatch leaving the air thick. Eggsy swallowed thickly as he tried to meet Harry’s eyes but was having a hard time, sharing a look of concern with Merlin. You tried to act casual as you leaned further into Whiskey, seeking his warmth. He responded automatically, wrapping his arm around you and placing a kiss on your head.

Harry placed the glasses and looked around the table. “Thank you, Merlin, Eggsy. How do I look?”

“You look…” Eggsy held up the ‘OK’ sign with his fingers as Merlin was going to compliment him but your peace was interrupted. 

“Like some faggot lookin' for an eye fuckin'. Now… why don't you get out of our bar...before I take out your other one?” Everyone looked up at Moonshine with disdain. You, however, looked up in confusion. You had never seen him behave so crass. Moonshine was a fellow agent who didn’t take well to outside visitors, especially other agents. 

“Now, is that any way to welcome visitors from out of town, Moonshine?” You cleared your throat as his eyes landed on you, unashamedly checking you out. Everyone at the table noticed the way he was eyeing you, including an irritated Whiskey. He stiffened next to you and you laid your hand on his thigh, calming him a bit. Moonshine chuckled before focusing his attention back on Harry. 

“Okay. Suck my southern dick...bitch.” 

Harry looked completely taken back as he murmured back respectfully. “Oh, I don't think that'll be necessary. Good day, sir.” Harry grabbed his umbrella and slowly stood, walking past Moonshine towards the entrance of the bar. 

“Well? What are you ladies waitin' for?” You glared Moonshine down as you were about to retort but Harry’s voice echoed throughout the room. 

“Manners…” Harry started to handle every lock on the door with every word. “Maketh…” You raised an eyebrow in his direction, having a feeling of where this was going and you didn’t think it was a good idea. ”Man. Do you know what that means?” Most of the men at the bar had stood, standing defensively with Moonshine. Harry stared them down from a reflective frame on the wall.  “Then let me teach you a lesson.” Everything happened so quick from Harry grabbing the glass cup with his umbrella to unsuccessfully throwing it at Moonshine. The cup flew past his head straight towards you. Whiskey was quick and caught the cup before it hit you. You looked at the cup, to Whiskey, and then to Eggsy and Merlin in concern. You looked back at Harry seeing him a bit disoriented. Whiskey gave Harry an irritated glance at the fact that he almost hurt you. 

“Harry, sugar, maybe you shouldn’t-”

Harry ignored you as he was focused on the men. “Are we going to stand around here all day? Or are we going to-” Before Harry could finish talking, one of the men lunged for him, punching him in the face. Harry went flying into the bar, trying to catch his bearings. Whiskey rubbed his lip with his thumb and watched as the men started to fight with Harry. He was successful in landing a couple of blows into a few but he was easily getting overpowered and losing. One of the men used Harry’s umbrella against him, landing heavy blows to his face. Whiskey had slipped out of the booth, quick using his lasso to pull out Harry from the fight. Harry landed next to the booth as Whiskey started to round up his lasso. 

“Well, pick him up.” He motioned to Eggsy and Merlin. They were quick to grab Harry and help him into another booth. You stood up, next to Whiskey as he spoke. “Now, that is not what I call a Kentucky welcome.” You giggled quietly as the men stared at the both of you in confusion. You tipped your hat back just a bit, watching their confused stares turn into smirks at the sight of you. It made your blood boil. “Manners maketh man, ain’t that right baby?”

“Sure is, sugar. Thing is, I don’t think these men are smart enough to understand. We should translate it for ‘em.”

“You read my mind darlin.” One of the men had deemed you an easier target and he ran after you, screaming as he had his fist out but Whiskey was quicker and he threw his lasso at him, roping him, throwing him against the bar. Another man with a knife ran after Whiskey. He opened the loop of his lasso, jumping through as he tightened it around the man’s wrist, hitting the knife out of his hand with his elbow. He landed a punch before throwing his lasso to grab the flying knife. He caught it effortlessly and you laughed, watching him. 

“Show off.” Whiskey laughed as he whipped his rope in the air with the knife, throwing it towards his next victim, the knife embedded itself into the man’s shoulder. He pulled the man with great force towards the bar. The man hit it hard and his cries of pain mixed in with the others. 

“Only for you baby girl.” You ran towards Moonshine, using your small form to your advantage as he tried to punch you but you avoided every throw like it was second nature. Of course, in your case, it was. You jumped on a nearby table, using it as a force to throw you in Moonshine’s direction as you swing your leg, landing a brutal kick in his face. You landed swiftly on the floor, preparing for the next guy. Whiskey dropped his lasso, pulling out his whip. He lashed it against the floor, filling the room with the loud sounds of it cracking. You stood back and watched as he hit every man with the whip, the men screaming in pain. You bit your lip as you watched him, hating to admit this was turning you on more than it should. Whiskey noticed this and smirked as he took a second to flick the whip in your direction, hitting you in the ass. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt you but it definitely got your attention. 

“H-hey!” Whiskey laughed as he wrapped the whip around one of the men’s necks. 

“This one’s for you pretty lady.” Whiskey used a lot of his strength to fling the man towards you. You smiled widely as the man went flying towards you. You jumped in time to punch him in his chest, making him fall and smash his head against the pool table. Soon, you both found your rhythm. If a man came for Whiskey’s back, you’d swiftly cut in and punch the guy hard in his neck, watching as he fell to the floor, clutching his neck in pain as he tried to catch his breath. Whiskey did the same, protecting you from any unwanted harm. You were both ruthless. You were considered one of the best teams across the agencies. When you two paired up, it was almost impossible to break through. 

You knew you couldn’t kill any of the men or else Champ would have your head. So you stuck to your fists and Whiskey to his whip. One of the men threw a chair at you but Whiskey was quick and grabbed it with his whip, throwing it back at the man, sending him flying through the window. 

“That was hot.” Whiskey erupted into a loud laugh, his shoulders shaking violently as he tried to catch his breath. He pulled you in for a rough kiss before pulling back and looking around the room, the bodies of the unconscious men surrounding you. 

“Whoo, I feel like a tornado in a trailer park.” You were about to retort but Poppy’s broadcasted message interrupted you. You watched in horror realizing that the effects that Tequila was having were because of Poppy’s horrible drugs. Once the message was over, you all drove back to the agency as fast as you could, meeting Champ in the main room. You listened to the President as he spoke about how he wanted to handle the situation, leaving you in shock. 

“Fox, shut up. McCoy, declare Marshall Law. We need to keep control, commandeer stadiums, schools, civic centers. Order a press blackout and put the military on standby to round these junkies up.”

“Whether they broke the law or not, those victims are human beings. Tequila,” You watched as Champ looked over his alcohol before picking one, grabbing a glass. “He's a great guy. And a great agent. Right now, he's lying in deep-freeze waitin' on our help.” You swallowed thickly, staring at the table. You didn’t know what you’d do if Tequila passed away. He was one of your best friends. Whiskey noticed your tense nature and he took a deep breath, trying to lighten the situation for your sake but he didn’t go about it too well. 

“We can't make this personal, sir.

“Personal? Agent, we can't stand by and let folks like him die. These people, we're their only hope. Now, we have to find that antidote.” Whiskey sighed as he looked up, noticing Harry analyzing him. He didn’t pay much attention to him, soon moving his focus back to you as he held your hand in his. You took a deep breath, pulling Whiskey’s hand onto your lap. He rubbed his thumbs against your soft skin, sending goosebumps across the surface. 

Champ took a sip of his drink before turning and spitting it into a nearby tin. “Poppy's stockpiles, well, they could be anywhere.” Whiskey gripped your thigh in comfort as you watched Champ sympathetically. You knew he was battling with his own addiction and this was his way of dealing. 

“She must have some on hand. Locate Poppy and obtain a sample for analysis. Maybe it can be replicated.” Eggsy and Harry exchanged glances of confusion as they watched Champ but they chose not to comment. You took a deep breath as you kept quiet. It wasn’t like you but your head was swirling with thoughts of the disease and of Tequila. 

Soon, your thoughts were interrupted by Ginger’s voice echoing through the room. “Sorry to cut in, guys. But Charlie is on the phone with his girlfriend. Looping you in now.” She appeared on the large screen in the room with Merlin by her side before she changed the screen to display the soundwaves of Clara talking to Charlie and her location on the map. 

“Don't worry. I'm on a payphone covered in a fucking blue rash. Why didn't you tell me? All you said was, "Don't take any drugs." It was a music festival for fuck's sake.” You rolled your eyes as you listened. You already didn’t like her from your last mission and this was just solidifying that dislike. 

“Fuck. Shit. Shit! Okay. Listen. You need to get to the lab in Italy. Do you remember where we went skiing?”

“Yes. Yes, I remember.”

“Yeah. Meet me there and I'll give you the antidote.”

Clara’s deep sigh filled the room before she mumbled an okay, hanging the call right after

“All right. Jet's ready. Whiskey, Gin, Galahad, get to Italy.” You nodded your understanding and as you looked up, you saw both Eggsy and Harry standing up, looking at each other awkwardly. Eggsy smirked and you knew he wanted to laugh. You watched them both curiously as Whiskey spoke up.

“You two need to fix this code name thing.” He leaned over to Champ as he motioned towards Harry. “And with all due respect, sir… I don't think Galahad senior is ready to return to fieldwork.”

Champ nodded his agreement as he pointed towards Eggsy. “I did actually mean…”

“Of course.” You gave Harry a sympathetic smile and he returned a small smile in return. Even though he recovered his memories, he still remembered your kindness and trustiness for him. He remembered the things you told him about your life, the quiet evenings you spent together, the way you talked about the “man” who hurt you. It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was Whiskey you were talking about and he had his disagreements with you returning to his side but he chose not to say anything on it, respectfully leaving you to make your own decision. 

“And with all disrespect… I'm not going anywhere without him.” Eggsy sat down next to Harry as he motioned towards him. Both Champ and Whiskey looked at Eggsy with different thoughts running around their heads. One thing you respected was Eggsy’s undying loyalty. You knew this was a hard trait to come by and with the way he was protective of you already on missions, you trusted him. “Brains,” He motioned to Harry before motioning to himself. “Skills,” He looked at you and winked as he motioned towards you. “Bad-assery.” You snorted as his comment brought a smile to your lips, giving you a bit of relief from the entire situation. Eggsy looked at Whiskey and took a second to think of what he wanted to say. “Skipping rope?”

Whiskey clenched his jaw as he stared Eggsy down, before moving his gaze to Champ who went into a deep laugh. You couldn’t contain your smile and you covered your mouth with your hand, hoping Whiskey didn’t hear your muted giggles. Whiskey glared at you as he spoke, his deep baritone voice sending shivers your way. You knew you were going to pay for laughing. “It's a lasso.’

“Whatever. Come on.” Eggsy stood, looking to Harry to follow him as Whiskey watched them both as Champ continued to laugh before dismissing the both of you. 

“Go on. Vamoose.”

“Yes, sir.”

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @authoressskr @sorenmarie87 @reigningqueenofwords @goldenolaf25 @giftofdreams @winchesterprincessbride @chelsea072498 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel @fictionalabyss @gabby913 @angelkurenai @sea040561 @sleepylunarwolf @smoothdogsgirl @carryonmyswansong @feelmyroarrrr @evyiione @sofreddie @sis-tafics @nitelotus @trexrambling  @manawhaat @mermaidxatxheart @winchest09 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @lovebodymindstuff @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @chook007 @akshi8278 @evansrogerskitten @bringmesomepie56 @persephonehemingway @blacktithe7 @donnaintx @queenxxxsupreme @whitewolfandthefox @riviawitch3r

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[waywardaardvark79]

Supernatural Rewrite: Season 1, Episode 9: Home

Summary:  Y/N Singer joins Sam and Dean on the road. A rewrite starring you.

Pairing: eventual Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: language, show level violence, feels???

Word Count: 10, 534 

A/N: I’ll try to do at least one episode a week. No set schedule. Tags open. 

 "Sam." you said, shaking his shoulder, his tossing and turning waking you up. "Sam, wake up." you tried again.

Sam sat up in bed, looking at you confused, "Y/N?" he asked.

You nodded your head, "Bad dream?" you asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah, did...did you..." he trailed off, afraid to ask.

"No." you said, holding up your gloved hands, Sam nodding his head, a relieved expression on his face, "Was it Jess?"

"No." Sam said, settling himself back in bed.

"You wanna tell me about it? I'll give you your first session free." you teased, throwing his own words back at him.

"It's...I'm okay." Sam said, "It...it was just a dream."

"Sam." you said, not believing him at all.

"Really, Y/N. I'm fine." Sam said.

"You can't lie to me, Sam, and it's not because I'm some freaky mind reader either. I've known you since we were kids, and I know something is wrong. If you don't want to tell me that's fine, but I just hope you know that I'm here if you need me, and I won't judge. Trust me, I'm the last person that has room to." you said, holding up your hands and wiggling your fingers.

"Thanks, Y/N." Sam said.

"No problem, Sammy." you said, standing up to go back to your own bed.

"It's Sam." Sam teasingly said as you got back into bed.

"Mmm hmm...night, Sammy." you said, Sam chuckling.

"Night, Y/N." he said. 

The next morning the three of you were sitting in the motel room, Dean looking for cases, Sam drawing on the motel stationary, and you were scribbling in your journal. You had taken to writing in one lately, finding that writing things down helped clear your head some.

"All right, I've been cruisin' some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali...it's crew vanished, and, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas. Hey." Dean said, you and Sam both looking over at him, "Am I boring you two with this hunting evil stuff?" he asked.

"No. I'm listening, keep going." Sam said, Dean looking over to you.

"Hmm, oh yeah, me too. I'm listenin'." you said.

"Really? What did I just say?" Dean asked.

"Cattle mutilations." you said, Dean shaking his head at you.

"And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times." Dean said, waving his hand in front of Sam's face, "Any of these things blowin' up your skirt, pal? What about you over there? You writin' a novel or somethin'?" Dean asked.

"Or somethin'." you said, closing your journal. "I told you I was listening. I heard everything you said, and if I had my pick I'd go with the three shots to the head guy." you said before looking over to Sam, "You better weigh in here before he flips his fuckin' lid." you said, Sam too busy looking down at the paper he was holding to respond.

"Wait. I've seen this." Sam said.

"Seen what?" you and Dean asked in unison, Sam getting up from his bed to search through his duffel bag.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked as Sam pulled out a picture from his bag, quickly holding it up to the motel stationary he had been drawing on .

"Guys, I know where we have to go next." Sam said, looking between you and Dean.

"Where?" Dean asked.

"Back home...back to Kansas." Sam said.

"Sam, are you okay?" you asked, concerned for him.

Sam nodded his head, "We have to go back." he said.

"Okay, random. Where'd that come from?" Dean asked.

Sam showed the photo he was holding to Dean, "All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Dean said.

"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?" Sam asked.

"I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin' about?" Dean asked.

"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy, but...the people who live in our old house...I think they might be in danger." Sam said, and you quickly got up and snatched the stationary that he was drawing on.

"Why would you think that?" Dean asked.

"Uh, it's just, um...look, just trust me on this, okay?" Sam said before starting to walk away.

"Sam." you said, stopping him, holding up the stationary when he turned to look at you.

"Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam said before turning to you, "What is it?" he asked.

"You tell me." you said, Sam walking over to you as you flipped through the pages of your journal. "What the fuck, Sam?" you asked, pointing to a page, a rough sketch of the tree that matched the one Sam was talking about, the one he had been drawing.

"When did you do this?" Sam asked.

"This morning." you said, Dean growing more impatient by the second.

"Come on, guys. You gotta give me a little bit more than this because right now it looks like we're freakin' out over some paper." Dean said.

"I can't really explain it is all." Sam said, still looking at you.

"Yeah, me either." you said.

"Well, tough. I'm not going anywhere until you guys start talkin'." Dean said, both you and Sam glancing over at him before looking back at each other.

"How did you know to draw this?" Sam asked.

"I don't fuckin' know, Sam. It just popped in my head, and I couldn't get it out. Sometimes when I write things down it seems to help, so I did." you said.

"Y/N, I've been thinking about this since last night." Sam said, pausing for a moment, "Maybe, you..." he trailed off.

"No. No. No." you said, shaking your head, "That only happens when I touch something, and I never touched you. It's just some weird fucked up coincidence."

Sam scoffed, "Really, Y/N? A coincidence? You know better than that." Sam said.

"Hey!" Dean barked out, both you and Sam whipping around to face him, "Somebody better start fuckin' talkin', and now." he said, looking between you and Sam.

"I have these nightmares." Sam finally said.

"I've noticed." Dean said, nodding his head.

"And sometimes...they come true." Sam said, you giving his arm a gentle squeeze, letting him know that you were there.

"Come again?" Dean asked, shocked, a feeling of deja vu hitting him, this was you all over again.

"Look, Dean...I dreamt about Jessica's death...for days before it happened." Sam said.

"Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence." Dean said, sitting down on the bed, thinking to himself that he didn't know if he could handle something happening to both you and Sam.

"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it cause I didn't believe it." Sam said.

Dean ran a hand through his hair before focusing on you, "Did you know about this?" he asked, "Because if I find out that you knew and you didn't tell me..."

"Dean, I-" you said, your heart pounding in your chest, Sam cutting you off.

"She didn't know. She only saw what happened to Jess. She didn't know about the dreams." Sam said, lying for you. "And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Dean said, overwhelmed. "And you've seen it, too?" he asked you.

"No, just...just the tree, and it was only for a split second. It just kept flashing in my head, kind of like a snapshot." you said.

"I...I don't know." Dean quietly said.

"What do you mean you don't know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica." Sam said, sitting down across from Dean.

"All right, just slow down, would ya?" Dean asked, standing up before he started to pace, "I mean, first you tell me that you've got the Shining, too? And, then you tell me that I've got to go back home. Especially when..." Dean trailed off.

"When what?" Sam asked.

"When I swore to myself that I would never go back there." Dean said as he continued to pace, "God damn it! I've already got too much on my plate with this shit that is goin' on with her. I can't handle it happening to you, too. Fixing one of you is enough right now. All I can think about is how I have to watch her, make sure that she doesn't go off the fuckin' deep end.  I can't be worried about you being some sort of freak, too." Dean said, the room falling silent.

"Yeah, well, you don't have to worry about me, Dean, and you sure as shit don't have to fuckin' fix me. I can take care of myself. I don't need you." you said before storming out of the room, slamming the door closed behind you.

"Shit! Y/N! I didn't mean it like that." Dean said, running his hands over his face. "This is just...too much."

"I know, Dean. I know it is, but we have to check this out. Just to make sure. I mean, especially with both of us seeing something. It has to mean something." Sam said.

"I know we do. Just...just give me a minute first." Dean said, starting for the door.

Dean saw you across the parking lot, pacing and kicking at the gravel. He took a deep breath, knowing that talking to you right now wasn't going to be easy, but he felt that he needed to explain himself to you.

"Y/N, look, I didn't mean it like that." Dean said, stopping a few feet away from you.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Dean." you said, still pacing, refusing to look in his direction, "You made yourself pretty clear back there."

"Y/N, I'm sorry, okay? I...I didn't mean it. It just came out wrong." Dean said, you still refusing to look at him, "Would you just talk to me?"

You whipped around to face him, tears staining your cheeks, "I don't have anything to say to you." you said.

"Fuck, don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't...I don't want you to cry." Dean said, hanging his head.

"You can take your guilt and your apology and shove them up your fuckin' ass." you said. "Just get out of here. Leave me the fuck alone."

"Y/N, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It was just a heat of the moment thing." he said.

"Don't worry, asshole, my feelings aren't fuckin' hurt. I'm just really fuckin' pissed right now. I mean, God forbid I give you something else to worry about, right? I mean, I already weigh you down. I'm just some freak burden that you have to fix, right? Someone that you have to watch constantly because who knows what the freak might do next? You know, I never asked for you to swoop in and save me. I can take care of myself. It's not your fuckin' job to watch over me. I don't NEED you." you said, venom dripping from your words.

"Listen, Y/N." Dean said, trying to remain calm, "What I said...it...it came out wrong, okay? I...you don't weigh me down, and...and the freak thing...I don't think that." he said.

"Oh, see, I guess I confused the part where you said you didn't want Sam becoming some sort of freak, too. Guess, my fucked up freak brain misunderstood that." you said, shaking your head. "You know what? I'll make it easy for you, and I'll lighten your fuckin' load, take some of that weight off of your shoulders." you said, before taking off for the room.

"Oh, what does that fuckin' mean?" Dean asked, chasing after you. "Y/N!" 

You stormed back into the room, Sam looking at you wide eyed. "Hey, are you okay?" Sam asked.

"Oh, I'm just fuckin' perfect." you said, grabbing your bag, quickly shoving things inside.

"Y/N, why don't you just calm down for a second." Sam gently said.

"Not now, Sam." you said, looking around the room for your things.

"What are you doin'?" Dean asked, watching you from the door.

"I told you. I'm gonna lighten your load." you said, snatching your journal and shoving it into your bag before slinging the bag over your shoulder and turning for the door, "Get out of my way, Dean." you said, glaring at him.

"No." he clipped out, bracing himself in the doorway.

"Get out of my fuckin' way....right now." you said, standing toe to toe with him.

"No." he said again, glaring back at you, both of you close to exploding.

"I'm not above making you move, so this is your last fuckin' chance to get the fuck out of my way." you seethed.

"I'm not moving, so you do what you have to do." Dean said.

"Guys, let's just calm down and talk about this." Sam said, his hands held up in front of him as he carefully approached the two of you.

"We DON'T need to talk about anything. He already said enough." you said.

"I told you I was sorry!" Dean yelled.

"And I told you where you could shove that apology! Now move!!" you yelled back.

"I told you I wasn't movin'. You don't get to just run off. Now when you told me that you wouldn't leave." Dean said.

"Oh, no. You don't get to throw that back at me. That...that was before, and everything...everything is just fucked now. Everything's changed." you said.

"Nothin's changed for me." Dean said.

You scoffed, "How can you say that with a straight face? Everything has changed, Dean! You never had to worry about me before, or feel like you had to watch me constantly. I'm just another problem to solve now. Just another fucked up crisis that needs to be averted. I'm not gonna stick around and hang all that on you. You're...you're scared of me now. When you look at me you don't see me anymore. You don't see Y/N. You just see some..." you trailed off, taking a deep breath, "Listen, you can say whatever you want, you can deny it until you are blue in the fuckin' face, but I know the truth, okay? I know, and just let me make it easy for once. Let me go." you said.

"Y/N." Dean started to say, Sam standing in the background speechless.

You held up your hand to stop him, "Move." you said, shaking your head. "Don't make me say it again."

"No, you're gonna listen to me now." he said, Sam stepping a little closer to the two of you, afraid that he was going to have to step in.

"Maybe you two should just take a few minutes. Calm down, and then we can talk about this once everybody has cooled off." Sam said, knowing how hot headed both of you were, both of you likely to make rash decisions.

"No, she said what she wanted to say, and now I'm going to." Dean said.

"Dean." Sam warned, Dean ignoring him.

"You don't get to tell me what I think, or what I feel because you don't know." Dean said to you.

"Pretty fuckin' sure I do." you said.

"Could you just keep your mouth closed for five minutes and let me talk?" he asked.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, "Talk, but you're wasting your breath cause it's not gonna change anything." you said.

"You think everything is different now, and yeah, shit's changed, but you don't know what you're talking about. You said I never had to worry about you before. Y/N, that's all I ever fuckin' do. I worry that something is gonna happen to you, that you could hurt or worse, and that I won't be able to save you. And yeah, I know, that's not my fuckin' job, right? But, damn it, Y/N, that is my fuckin' job because I...I..." Dean said, not able to say what he wanted to, "It's my job, okay? Because you and me...we're...we're partners. That's what we do. We look out for each other, and we have each other's backs." Dean said.

"You done?" you coldly asked, looking up at him.

"I'm not scared of you. I'm scared of what's happening, and I'm scared that I don't know what to fuckin' do to help you, but I'm not scared of you. I don't think you're a...I don't think that, okay? It was just everything...hit all at once, and it just keeps coming. I'm drowning here, Y/N. I can't lose you or Sam. I...can't. I'm always the one that is supposed to know what to do, and I don't. I lost my shit and said something I didn't fuckin' mean." he said, looking down at you, unable to read your expression. "Here." he said, reaching out for your hand, "See for yourself."

You jerked your hand away from him, "I don't need to see anything. Move." you said.

"Y/N." Dean said, his voice so small, so defeated.

"Are we goin' to Kansas, or not?" you asked, not looking at him, Dean reluctantly stepping aside, "I'll be at the car." 

Dean stood there and watched you walked away, part of him still ready to chase after you, afraid that you would walk right by the car and just keep going. He let out a slow breath when he saw you drop your bag and lean against the side of the car.

"I'm such a fuckin' idiot. She hates me. God, why did I fuckin' say that?" he asked, afraid to take his eyes off of you.

"Yeah, you probably could have worded that a little better." Sam said, Dean nodding his head.

"You, uh, you mind gettin' my stuff?" Dean asked, not wanting to turn his back on you.

"She's not going anywhere, Dean." Sam said.

"You don't know that, and I..." Dean said, stopping himself before he said too much.

"Yeah, I do. She's not going anywhere. You two are just..." Sam said, shaking his head in frustration. "You guys are blind. You can't see it."

"See what? Cause I can clearly see that she fuckin' hates me." Dean said.

"She doesn't hate you. She...listen, it's not easy to hear something like that from someone you care about. She's scared enough already. She may not act like it, but she is. We both know that, but I know that she isn't going anywhere. So, just get your stuff and come on." Sam said, tossing his last few things in his bag before walking out the door. 

The drive to Kansas was awkward to say the least, you and Dean tip toeing around each other, communicating through Sam when it wasn't absolutely necessary to talk to each other, and when Dean pulled up in front of their childhood home you couldn't get out of the car fast enough.

"You gonna be alright, man?" Sam asked, Dean glancing at the house before looking at you.

"Let me get back to you on that." he said, him and Sam getting out of the car. 

The three of you walked to the door in silence, Dean knocking on the door, a woman answering it a few moments later.

"Yes?" she asked, Sam looking at her in shock, she was the woman from his dream.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal-" Dean said, Sam quickly interrupting.

"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin' by and we were wondering if we could come see the place." Sam said.

"Winchester. Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night. I don't remember seeing a sister, though." she said, looking over to you.

"Oh, no. That's Y/N. She's my-" Dean said, you stepping in.

"I'm an old family friend." you said, smiling at her, missing the look on Dean's face.

"Well, come on in." she said, stepping aside to let the three of you in. 

The three of you followed Jenny into the kitchen to see a little girl sitting at the table, and a toddler jumping up and down excitedly in his playpen.

"Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!" the little boy yelled.

"That's Ritchie. He's kind of a juice junkie." Jenny said, taking a sippy cup out of the fridge before walking over to Ritchie, "But, hey, at least he won't get scurvy." she said, walking over to the little girl next, "Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and Y/N. Sam and Dean used to live here."

"Hi." Sari said, you and Dean waving at her.

"Hey, Sari." Sam greeted.

"Why are you wearing gloves? You're not supposed to wear them in the house, only when you're outside." Sari said, looking at you.

"Sari." Jenny scolded, looking at you embarrassed.

"You're right, Sari." you said, pulling off your gloves, Dean looking over at you, a worried expression on his face. "You know, sometimes I just forget that I have them on." you said, tucking your gloves into your pocket.

"So, you just moved in?" Dean asked, trying to get down to business.

"Yeah, from Wichita." Jenny said.

"You got family here, or?" Dean asked.

"No, I just...uh, needed a fresh start, that's all. So, new town, new job...I mean, as soon as I find one. New house." she said.

"So, how you likin' it so far?" Sam asked.

"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home. I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here." she said, Dean smiling weakly at her, "But this place has it's issues."

"Issues?" you asked.

"What do you mean?" Sam quickly added.

"Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly." she said, the three of you instantly alert.

"Oh, that's too bad. What else?" Dean asked.

"Um...sink's backed up, there's rats in the basement. I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain." she said.

"No." Dean said, not offended at all, "Have you seen the rats?" he asked.

"Or, have you just heard them? The scratching?" you asked.

"It's just the scratching actually." Jenny said.

"Mom?" Sari asked, Jenny kneeling down next to her, "Ask them if it was here when they lived here." Sari said.

"What, Sari?" Sam asked.

"The thing in my closet." she said.

"Oh, no, baby. There was nothing in their closets." Jenny said, looking at Sam and Dean, "Right?"

"Right. No, no, of course not." Sam said, glancing over at you, and you didn't need to be able to read minds to know what he was thinking.

"She had a nightmare the other night." Jenny explained.

"I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom, and it was on fire." Sari said, shocking the three of you.

"Hey, Sari." you said, walking over to her and kneeling beside her, reaching out to place your hand on hers, "You don't have anything to be scared of." you said, trying to keep your facial expression under control as you saw what she was talking about, "Sometimes, new places can be scary, but nothing bad is going to happen. Sometimes dreams can feel like they're real, but you're safe here." you said, trying to memorize everything you could about the figure. 

The three of you were walking back to the car, "You guys hear that? A figure on fire." Sam said, before looking over at you, "Did you see it?"

"Yeah, it was just like she said. It was just a figure, an outline of a body. I couldn't make out a face or any other details. It was just standing there, engulfed in flames. I couldn't get a read on it like I have before. I didn't feel any emotions attached to it." you said, pulling your gloves back on.

"And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dream?" Dean asked Sam.

"Yeah, and did you guys hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit." Sam said, you nodding your head.

"You're right." you said.

"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin' true." Dean said, immediately cringing, scared of how you would take it.

"I think that's the least of or our problems right now." you said.

"Yeah, Y/N's right. Forget about that for a minute." Sam said, pausing for a moment, "The thing in the house, do you guys think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Dean said.

Sam shook his head, "Well, I mean, has it come back, or has it been here the whole time?" Sam asked.

"Sam, let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet. We don't know anything for sure." you said.

"Well, those people are in danger. We have to get 'em out of that house." Sam said.

"Yeah, I agree with that." you said. "We definitely need to get them out, and fast."

"And we will." Dean said.

"No, I mean now." Sam said.

"And how you gonna do that, huh? You got a story that she's gonna believe?" Dean asked.

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Sam asked.

"We need to just take a step back and stop letting emotions take over." you said, the three of you getting into the car. 

The three of you were standing outside of the gas station while Dean pumped gas, "Y/N's right. We just gotta chill out, that's all. You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" Dean asked.

"Well, first, we'd try to figure out what the fuck we're dealing with." you said.

Sam sighed, "We'd dig into the history of the house." he said.

"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened." Dean said.

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?" Sam asked.

"Not much. I remember the fire...the heat." Dean said, pausing a moment, and you had to stop yourself from reaching out for his hand. You knew how hard this was for him, "And then I carried you out the front door."

"You did?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?" Dean asked.

"No." Sam said, shaking his head.

"And, well, you guys know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was...was on the ceiling, and whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her." Dean said.

"And he never had a theory about what did it?" Sam asked.

"If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times." Dean said, you nodding your head.

"I never heard him ever mention anything to Dad either." you said.

"Okay. So, if we're gonna figure out what's goin' on now...we have to figure out what happened back then, and see if it's the same thing." Sam said.

"Yeah. We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time." Dean said.

"Does...does this feel like just another job to you?" Sam asked, Dean remaining quiet.

"Look, guys. I can take the lead on this one. I can do all of the questioning if you want me to. Whatever will make it easier." you said, neither brother saying anything.

"I'll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom." Dean said before walking away, leaving you and Sam alone. 

"Are you okay?" Sam asked once Dean walked away.

"I think I should be the one asking you that." you said.

"I'm...I don't know what I am." Sam said, you nodding your head.

"Yeah, me either, Sam. Me either, but we'll figure it out, right?" you asked.

"Yeah, we will." Sam said.

"Hey, thanks for covering my ass back there at the motel. You know, with Dean. If he found out that I knew, and didn't tell him...I'm sure everything would be a lot worse." you said.

"You know, he didn't mean it , right? I mean, I know he said it, and he shouldn't have. I'm not defending him, but he...he doesn't think of you that way." Sam said.

"I know." you said, hoping that Sam would drop it. 

Dean stood next to the bathroom door, and pulled out his cell phone, making sure that no one could see him before dialing.

"This is John Winchester. If this is an emergency call my son, Dean at 866-907-3235, or Y/N Singer at 866-907-0726." John's voicemail said before the beep.

"Dad? I know I've left messages before. I don't even know if you'll get them." Dean said, clearing his throat. "But I'm with Y/N and Sam, and we're in Lawrence. And there's somethin' in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but..." he said, his voice breaking, barely keeping himself together, "I don't know what to do." he added, starting to cry, "So, whatever you're doin', if you could get here. Please. I need your held, Dad." he said before hanging up the phone, tears in his eyes. 

"So, you and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together?" Dean asked, the three of you standing in the middle of an auto repair shop, talking with the owner.

"Yeah, we used to, a long time ago. Matter of fact, it must be, uh...twenty years since John disappeared. So why the cops interested all of sudden?" the owner asked.

"We're re-opening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is one of them." you said.

"Oh, well, what do you wanna know about John?" the owner asked.

"Whatever you remember, you know, whatever sticks out in your mind." Dean said.

"Well...he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that." he said, laughing. "And, uh, whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It's that whole marine thing." he said, the three of you nodding. "But, oh, he sure loved Mary, and he doted on those kids."

"But that was before the fire?" Sam asked.

"That's right." the owner said.

"He ever talk about that night?" Sam asked.

"No, not at first. I think he was in shock." the owner said.

"Right, but eventually? What did he say about it?" you asked.

"Oh, he wasn't thinkin' straight. He said somethin' caused that fire and killed Mary." the man explained.

"He ever say what did it?" Dean asked.

"Nothin' did it. It was an accident...an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or somethin'. I begged him to get some help, but..." he trailed off.

"But what?" Dean asked.

"Oh, he just got worse and worse." the man said.

"How?" you asked.

"Oh, he started readin' these strange old books. He started goin' to see this palm reader in town." the man said.

"Palm reader?" you asked, the man nodding his head.

"Do you have a name?" Dean asked.

"No." the man scoffed.

"Well, thank you for your time, sir." you said, giving him a tight lipped smile before the three of you walked away. 

Dean parked the car by a payphone, and the two of you leaned against the car while Sam flipped through a phone book.

"All right, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town. There's someone named El Divino. There's, uh." Sam paused, laughing, "There's the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky, uh, Missouri Moseley."

"Wait, wait. Missouri Moseley?" Dean asked.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Missouri Moseley? That's a psychic?" you asked.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess so." Sam said, Dean going into the backseat to get John's journal.

"In Dad's journal...here, look at this." Dean said, opening it to the first page, "First page, first sentence, read that." Dean said to Sam, you already knowing what it said.

"I went to Missouri and I learned the truth." Sam read aloud.

"I always thought he meant the state." Dean said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, me too." you said. 

The three of you were sitting on a couch in Missouri's house, waiting, watching as she escorted a man to the door.

"All right, there. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you." she said, the man thanking her before she closed the door behind him, "Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold bangin' the gardener." she said.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked.

"People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news." she said, the three of you staring at her. "Well, Sam, Dean, Y/N, come on already. I ain't got all day." she said before leaving the room.

"Well, I guess we know she's legit." you said, standing up from the couch, Sam and Dean following after you. 

"Well, lemme look at ya." she said, when the three of you walked into the room. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome." she said before pointing a finger at Dean, "And you were one goofy looking kid, too." she said, Sam smirking.

"I like her." you said, chuckling, Dean glaring at you.

"Oh, honey." she said, grabbing your hand, looking down at your glove, "Aren't you a special one? Mmm hmm...very special." she said, confusing you, did she know what was happening to you?

"Sam." she said, grabbing his hand, "Oh, honey...I'm so sorry about your girlfriend. And your father...he's missing?" she asked, each of you looking at her in shock.

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asked.

"Well, you were just thinkin' it just now." she said, Sam raising his eyebrows, surprised.

"Well, where is he? Is he okay?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Missouri said.

"Don't know? Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?" Dean asked.

"Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please." she said, the three of you sitting down, "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, Im'ma whack you with a spoon." Missouri snapped.

"I didn't do anything." Dean said.

"But you were thinkin' about it." she said, Dean raising his eyebrows.

"Okay, so, my dad...when did you first meet him?" Sam asked.

"He came to me for a reading a few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say...I drew back the curtains for him." Missouri said.

"What about the fire? Do you know what killed our mom?" Dean asked.

"A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin' I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing." she said.

"And could you?" you asked, your mind racing with a million questions that you wanted to ask her.

"I..." she trailed off, shaking her head.

"What was it?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." she softly said, "Oh, but it was evil. That's why you're here. You think somethin' is back in that house?" she asked.

"Definitely." you said, Sam nodding his head.

"I don't understand." Missouri said.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it actin' up now?" she asked.

"I don't know, but Dad going missing and Jessica dying, and now this house all happening at once...it just feels like something's starting." Sam said.

"And it sure as shit doesn't feel good." you said.

"That's a comforting thought." Dean said. 

The four of you were getting ready to go back to Jenny's house, Missouri agreeing to come along to see if she could sense anything, when you pulled her to the side.

"I...am I...do you know what's happening to me? Am I a psychic like you?" you asked.

"Oh, sweet child." she said, grabbing your hands, "Honey, I don't know what's happening."

"But you said I was special. You have to know something. Anything?" you asked.

"You are special. You have an energy about you that I have never felt before, but I don't have any answers for you. I wish I did." she said, your face falling.

"Me too." you said, giving her a weak smile, the two of you walking to join Sam and Dean. 

The four of you were waiting at Jenny's door, "Sam, Dean, Y/N. What are you doing here?" she asked, a little frazzled.

"Hey Jenny. This is our friend, Missouri." Sam said.

"If it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her the old house, you know for old times sake." Dean said.

"You know, this isn't a good time. I'm kind of busy." Jenny said.

"Listen, Jenny, it's important." Dean said, Missouri smacking him on the back of the head, "Ow!" he said.

"Give the poor girl a break, can't you see she's upset?" Missouri asked Dean before turning to Jenny, "Forgive this boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out." she said, Dean looking stunned.

"Oh, I really like her." you said, Dean elbowing you.

"About what?" Jenny asked.

"About this house." Missouri said.

"Who are you?" Jenny asked.

"We're people who can help. Who can stop this thing, but you're gonna have to trust us, just a little." Missouri said, Jenny looking unsure. 

A few moments later, Missouri, and you, Sam, and Dean were standing in Sari's bedroom.

"If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it." Missouri said.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened." she said, Sam glancing up at the ceiling while Missouri looked around the room, you and Dean both pulling out an EMF meter. "Those EMFs?" she asked.

"Yeah." Dean said.

"Amateurs." she said, you and Dean both glaring at her. "Take those gloves off. You'll get more than that meter could ever tell you." she said.

You tucked your EMF meter back in your pocket, and looked down at your hands, scared to remove your gloves.

"Y/N." Dean said, worry in his voice, you glancing over at him before removing your gloves.

"I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this isn't the thing that took your mom." Missouri said.

"What? Are you sure?" Sam asked, Missouri nodding her head. "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It's somethin' different." she said, pulling you along with her.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"Not it." she said, opening the closet, "Them." she said, looking over at you, grabbing your hand and placing it against the inner closet wall.

You could feel it, something horrible, evil. You could feel it's eyes on you even though you couldn't see it. A scream made you whip around, and you could see John on the floor, looking up at the ceiling in horror.

You jerked your hand back, no longer able to stand it and you frantically pulled at your gloves in your pocket, desperate to get them back on.

"There's more than one spirit in here." Missouri said, Dean focusing on you instead of listening to her.

"What are they doing here?" Dean finally asked, still looking over at you in concern.

"They're here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds, and sometimes, wounds get infected." Missouri said, Dean listening as he kept his eyes on you.

"I don't understand." Sam said.

"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It's attracted a poltergeist, a nasty one, and it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead." Missouri said.

"You said there was more than one spirit." Sam said.

"There is. I just can't quite make out the second one." Missouri said.

"Could you, Y/N?" Sam asked, "Y/N?" he asked again when you didn't answer.

Dean walked over to you, putting his hand on your shoulder, making you jump, "Hey." Dean said, trying to get you to focus on him. "You, okay?" he asked. "Y/N." he said, placing his finger under your chin, lifting it so that you were looking at him." You okay?" he asked.

You stepped back form him, "Yeah." you said, nodding your head. "I'm...I'm fine."

"Y/N?" Dean asked, not believing you for a second.

"I said I'm fine, Dean." you said before turning to Sam, "What did you say?" you asked.

"Could you sense the other spirit?" Sam asked.

"No." you quickly said, shaking your head. "I...no."

"Don't take those off again." Dean said to you, worried about what you weren't telling him.

You didn't argue with him, or have some snarky comeback. You just nodded your head in agreement.

"Well, one thing's for damn sure...nobody's dyin' in this house ever again. So, whatever is here, how do we stop it?" Dean asked. 

The four of you were back at Missouri's house, sitting around a table covered in different herbs and roots.

"So, what is all this stuff anyway?" Dean asked.

"Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds and ends." Missouri said.

"Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?" Dean asked.

"You put them inside the walls in the north, south, east, and west corners on each floor of the house." you said, Dean raising a brow at you. "Me and Dad." you simply said, Dean understanding that you must have worked a similar case with Bobby.

"We'll be punchin' holes in the dry wall. Jenny's gonna love that." Dean said.

"She'll live." Missouri said.

"And this'll destroy the spirits?" Sam asked.

"It should. It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor, but we work fast. Once the spirit's realize what we're up to, things are gonna get bad." Missouri said. 

The four of you were back at Jenny's house, Missouri walking Jenny and the kids out before joining you, Sam, and Dean in the kitchen. Dean was handing out bags, and telling everyone where to go.

You held out your hand to him, waiting for your bag, and for him to tell you where to go.

"You're with me." he said, Sam and Missouri walking off to their designated locations.

"I don't need a babysitter." you said.

"Never said you did." Dean said, looking for a place to put the bag.

"You don't have to watch me constantly." you said, pointing out a place on the wall.

Dean looked over at you, "Look, I know that somethin' happened to you here earlier, and you don't have to tell me, but I'm not lettin' you out of my sight. So, get mad, yell, do whatever you have to do, but you do it here, where I can see you." Dean said.

"You gonna put that in the wall, or what?" you asked, deciding not to argue with him, Dean raising an eyebrow at you, fully expecting a fight, "I'm not gonna yell at you. Let's just do what we have to do." you said, Dean punching a hole in the wall with a small ax.

Your back was to him, your eyes on the rest of the kitchen, a noise catching your attention. You looked over just in time to see the kitchen drawer opening by itself.

"Dean!" you yelled, grabbing him and pulling him away, just as a knife hurled itself into the cabinet. "Fuck." you breathed out.

"Get down!" Dean yelled, pushing you to the ground before you could even realize what was happening, flipping a table in front of the two of you before covering you with his body, knives piercing the table a few seconds later.

"Oh, shit. Sam." you breathed out, Dean's weight crushing you. "Go!"

Dean pushed himself off of you and took off for the stairs. You got to your feet as fast as you could and followed after him. 

"Sam!" Dean yelled, running into the room to see Sam lying on the floor, the cord from the lamp wrapped tightly around his neck.

Dean rushed over to him and tried to get the cord off, but it wouldn't budge no matter what he did.

"The bag. Where the fuck is the bag?" you asked, Dean quickly tossing it to you.

You ran over to the wall, and started to kick it, finally breaking through and quickly shoving the bag of herbs inside, a blinding white light leaving the room. 

Once the spirit was gone, you made your way back to Sam and knelt by his side as Dean unraveled the cord from his neck. Dean pulled him into a fierce hug and you sat back on your heels, placing your hand on Sam's shoulder, relieved that he was okay. 

A few hours later you, Sam, Dean, and Missouri were standing in the middle of Jenny's extremely messy kitchen, everything basically destroyed.

"You sure this is over?" Sam asked.

"I'm sure. Why? Why do you ask?" Missouri asked.

"Never mind." Sam sighed. "It's nothin', I guess." he said, looking over at you, you shaking your head at him, knowing this wasn't over.

"Hello? We're home." Jenny said, walking into the kitchen and looking around, "What happened?" she asked.

"Hi, sorry. Um, we'll pay for all of this." Sam said, you and Dean looking at each other confused.

"Don't you worry. Dean's gonna clean up this mess." Missouri said, Dean standing there not moving. "Well, what are you waiting for , boy? Get the mop." she said.

"Come on. I'll help you." you said, you and Dean walking away.

"And don't cuss at me!" Missouri yelled, Dean muttering under his breath. 

You, Sam and Dean were sitting in the car outside of Jenny's house, you and Sam both insisting on sticking around.

"All right, so tell me again, what we are still doin' here?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. I just...still have a bad feeling." Sam said.

"Me too. This shit isn't over yet." you said.

"Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean. It should be over." Dean said.

"Yeah, well, probably. But, I just wanna make sure, that's all." Sam said.

"Look, I know you think we're both fuckin' nuts, but I'm telling you this isn't over." you said.

"Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now." Dean said, sliding down in his seat and closing his eyes.

"And he says I'm the dramatic one." you muttered, Sam smirking before looking up at Jenny's bedroom window, Jenny standing there screaming for help just like in his dream.

"Guys. Look, guys!" Sam yelled, the three of you getting out of the car and running towards the house.

"You two grab the kids, I'll get Jenny." Dean said before rushing inside. 

You had Ritchie in your arms, and were following after Sam to Sari's room, both of you hearing her scream for help.

"Don't look. Don't look!" Sam said, the fire figure standing there, as he picked her up, the two of you rushing downstairs with the children.

You watched as Sam put Sari down, "What are you doing?" you asked.

"Sari, go with Y/N. She'll take you and your brother to your mom." Sam said.

"Don't do this, Sam. It's fuckin' stupid. You can't stop that thing." you said.

"Get them out of here, Y/N!" Sam yelled.

You put Ritchie down, "All right, Sari , take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don't look back no matter what." you said, pushing them towards the door.

"Sam." you said, turning back to face him, a sudden invisible force making both of you fall to the ground before dragging the two of you backwards across the floor into another room.

Sari ran outside with Ritchie, both of them rushing over to Dean and Jenny, "Sari, where's Sam, and Y/N?" Dean asked, getting down on Sari's level.

Sari looked at him, crying, "They're inside. Something's got them." she said, Dean looking at the front door in panic. 

You and Sam were in the kitchen, both of you being flung around like rag dolls before the invisible force pinned both of you to the wall, neither of you able to move at all.

"Sam? Y/N?" you head Dean call out, and you knew he was making his way to you.

"Sam! Y/N!" Dean yelled when he saw the two of you pinned against the wall, the fire figure in front of the two of you.

Dean raised his gun, "No, don't! Don't!" Sam yelled.

"No fuckin' way. It can't be." you said to yourself.

"What, why?" Dean asked.

"Because I know who it is. I can see her now." Sam said.

"Listen to him, Dean." you said, the fire vanishing, Mary Winchester standing before the three of you exactly as she was the night she died.

Dean's expression softened, and he lowered his gun, "Mom?" he softly asked, Mary smiling and stepping closer to him.

"Dean." Mary said, tears forming in Dean's eyes.

You watched, both you and Sam still pinned to the wall, as she walked up to Sam.

"Sam." she said, Dean never taking his eyes off of her, Sam crying and giving her a weak smile, "I'm sorry." she said.

"For what?" Sam asked, Mary looking at him sadly, but saying nothing before turning to you.

She looked at you, her mouth never moving, but you heard her words loud and clear, "Watch over them. Take care of my boys. They need you. He needs you." she thought, and you nodded your head the best you could, letting her know that you got her message.

Mary walked away from you and looked up at the ceiling, "You get out of my house, and you let go of her and my son." Mary said, once again bursting into flames, the fire reaching the ceiling once she was entirely engulfed before disappearing.

The force holding you and Sam to the wall was released, both of you walking over to Dean, the three of you looking at each other stunned, before you pulled both of them into a hug.

"Now, it's over." Sam said.

"Yeah." you said, "It's over." 

The next morning you and Dean were standing next to the car with Jenny, Dean looking through the photo's she gave him, "Thanks for these." he said.

"Don't thank me. They're yours." Jenny said, as Dean put the photos into the car.

"Hey, I'll be right back." you said before walking over to Sam and Missouri. 

"Well, there are no spirits in there anymore, this time for sure." Missouri said.

"Not even my Mom?" Sam asked, your heart breaking for him.

"No." Missouri said.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Your mom's spirit and the poltergeist's energy, they cancelled each other out. Your mom destroyed herself goin' after the thing." Missouri explained.

"Why would she do something like that?" Sam asked, you reaching down to grab his hand.

"Well, to protect her boys, of course." Missouri said, Sam nodding his head, tears in his eyes as he squeezed onto your hand. "Sam, Y/N. I'm sorry." she said.

"For what?" you asked.

"The two of you sensed that it was here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't." she said.

"What's happening to us?" Sam asked.

"I know I should have all the answers, but I don't." she said.

"Sam! Y/N! You ready?" Dean called out, both you and Sam turning to walk away, Missouri reaching out to grab your hand, stopping you.

"I'll be right there, Sam." you said, turning back to face her once Sam walked away. 

Missouri put her hand on your shoulder, "I know that you're scared, full of doubt, but I want you to know that there's one thing you never have to worry about." she said.

"What's that?" you asked, hoping she had some sort of answer for you.

"You mean the world to that boy." she said, looking over you shoulder to see Dean's eyes glued to you.

You shook your head, "I'm not so sure about that. He's scared of me." you said.

"No, he's scared, but not of you. He's scared that something is gonna happen to you and he won't be able to do anything to stop it." Missouri said.

"Y/N!" Dean called out, you looking over your shoulder at him before turning back to Missouri.

"Thank you." you said, before walking away to the car. 

"Don't you kids be strangers." Missouri said.

"We won't." Dean assured her.

"See you around." Missouri said, "And Y/N, you remember what I said, honey." she added as the three of you were getting in the car.

"I will." you said, the three of you giving them a final wave before driving off. 

Missouri walked into her house and sat her purse down on the table.

"That boy, he has such powerful abilities, and the girl is even stronger, why they couldn't sense you, I have no idea." she said.

"Mary's spirit...do you really think she saved the boys...Y/N?" John asked.

"I do." Missouri said, John nodding his head sadly as he twisted his wedding ring on his finger, "John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won't you go talk to your children, and Y/N?" she asked.

"I want to." John tearfully said, "You have no idea how much I wanna see 'em, all of 'em, but I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth." John said, him and Missouri sharing a look. 

The three of you checked into a motel for the night, all of you completely drained, both physically and emotionally.

You looked over at Dean, who was sleeping on his side, facing away from you, both of you making sure to stay on your own side of the bed.

You eased the covers back, and sat up before grabbing your jeans and boots from the floor and slipping them on. You tip toed across the room and eased the door open, closing it gently behind you before making your way over to the hood of the Impala.

You climbed up and leaned back against the windshield, closing your eyes once you were settled, the sound of a door opening and closing catching your attention a few minutes later.

You let out a heavy sigh," Sam, go back in there and tell him I'm not going anywhere. He can lift the house arrest." you said.

"Well, I guess, that's good to know." Dean said, your eyes popping open once you heard him speak.

"Go back to bed, Dean. I'm not going anywhere. I...I just need to clear my head." you said.

"I know somethin' that might help with that. You wanna take a drive?" Dean asked.

"Not particularly." you said, your eyes closed.

Dean sighed, "I asked if you wanted to take a drive." he said, again.

"And, I said not particularly." you said, opening your eyes and sitting up, Dean tossing the keys into your lap.

"What about now?" he asked.

You grabbed the keys, "Really, Dean? What happened to life ain't fair, and you'll never drive again after what you did in Tampa?" you asked.

"Are you gonna sit there askin' me a million questions or are  you gonna drive?" Dean asked, walking to the passenger side of the car. 

The two of you were in the car, you behind the wheel, both  of you sitting in silence as you drove down the empty highway, no particular destination in mind.

"What...what happened back there at the house?" Dean finally asked, his voice a little rough from disuse.

"Sam wasn't coming out, and I wasn't going to let him stay in there alone." you said, your eyes on the road.

"I know that. I'm talking about what happened in the closet. What did you see?" Dean asked.

"Dean." you breathed out, dreading the conversation. "I don't want to do this."

"Please. I...was it my mom? Did you see her?" he asked.

"No." you said, shaking your head, "At first...I didn't see anything, but I could feel something, something bad, and it scared the shit out of me. Then, I heard screaming and I looked over and John was on the floor, looking at up the ceiling. I...I...couldn't take it after that. I could feel what he was feeling and I couldn't take it. I pulled my hand off after that, and then nothing." you said, both of you slipping into silence.

"You know, I really am sorry...about what I said." Dean said after a few minutes.

"Dean, I don't want to fight you with you. I don't have it in me right now. Let's just forget it happened, okay? I'm sure it won't be the last time we blow up at each other." you said, glancing over at him, "You know, since we're both assholes most of the time."

The corner of Dean's mouth turned up, "Were...were you really gonna do it? Leave?" he asked.

"What happened to forgetting it ever happened?" you asked, Dean looking over at you, silently begging for you to answer his question. "I...I don't know, Dean, okay? I don't know." you said.

Dean nodded his head, "You wanted to go." he said.

"I didn't WANT to go, but I'm not gonna stick around if you don't want me here. I...I...don't want you to think I'm your responsibility, that it's your job to look out for me. I don't want to weigh you down, De. You fuckin' deal with enough. You don't need my crazy on top of it. So, no, I didn't want to leave, but if it would make it easier on you, I will." you said.

Dean was quiet for a moment, "I know you don't need me." he finally said.

"That's not what I said, Dean. I don't need you to save me. I don't want you drivin' yourself fuckin' nuts worrying about what's happening to me. One of us doing that is enough." you said, pausing for a moment, "But, I do need you. I need, I need you to...fuck, I just need you to be, Dean. You know, I just want us to be...us." you said, glancing over at him. "You know, the us we were before all the magic fingers...freak mind reading bullshit." you said.

Dean nodded his head, "I need you here, you know? I know I fucked up, and you got to believe me when I say that I didn't mean it that way. Ever since I said it all I've thought about is how I wish I could take it back. I...I never want to hurt you, and then when I saw you cryin'-" Dean said, you interrupting him.

"I was crying because I was mad. You know I cry when I'm really pissed. That's all it was." you said, lying, not wanting him to beat himself up about it.

"Listen, I know I can't do the whole mind reading thing, but we both know that's not the whole truth. I'm not doubting that you were pissed. Trust me, I know you were, but I know I crossed a line, and I know I hurt you." he said.

You shrugged your shoulders, "It's fine. I'm over it." you said.

"You're not, and that's okay. I get it. I just wanted to tell you...that I'm sorry, and that even though you're a huge pain in my ass, I kinda need you to stick around. I don't want you to go anywhere. Just...please don't go."  he said.

"I'm not going anywhere, Winchester. I mean, who else would watch out for you? Save your ass? And poor Sam can't put up with you by himself. I couldn't do that to him. Don't worry, okay? It's gonna take more than that to get rid of me." you said.

Dean nodded his head, "I, uh, I don't want you to think that I see you differently. I don't, even though some things have changed. Y/N, I,uh...I...I, care about you, okay? So, I don't care that you can read minds, or that you have magic fuckin' fingers. Hell, I wouldn't care if you woke up tomorrow and could shoot rainbows outta your ass. You're still Singer to me, and you always will be...no matter what happens."

"Shoot rainbows outta my ass, huh? Now that would be money in the bank. You know, we could take that show on the road. So long hustling pool and credit card scams. Sam would be so proud." you teased, neither of you good with the whole feelings thing. "You know, we really got to come up with something besides magic fingers. I mean, every time I hear it all I can think about are those cheesy motel beds." you said.

"Hey, I love those." Dean said.

"Yeah, I know." you chuckled. "I, uh, I'm gonna say some shit now, and just listen because I'm only gonna say it once." you said, glancing over at him.

"Okay." Dean said, a little worried.

"I'm not going anywhere, and I know I already told you that, but I need you to hear it again because I know you. I know that you are gonna sit there, and beat yourself up, and think that I hate you. I don't fuckin' hate you. I don't think I ever could. And, I know that we're gonna lose our shit again, and probably say shit we don't mean, but no matter what you say to me, no matter what happens...I could never hate you. I, uh...you know...the whole caring thing, well, me too, okay?" you said, taking your right hand off the wheel and laying it open in the seat beside you, palm up, "So, we good, De?" you asked.

"Yeah, Singer. We're good." he said, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours. 

The two of you stayed like that, sitting in comfortable silence, your hands still clasped together as you drove.

"We, uh, we better turn back. I bet Sam is wondering what happened." Dean said.

"Yeah." you said, looking over at him, "Or...we could go to a strip club." you said, a smirk on your face as you wiggled your eyebrows at him.

Dean threw his head back, his shoulders shaking with laughter, "You really had to go there? You just got the keys back." he said, shaking his head at  you, a smile on his face.

"Oh, come on, De. Live a little. You, me, some tear away pants. It could be fun." you said.

"Never again." He said, shaking his head. "I can't believe you brought that up." he said, laughing to himself.

"Well, I wouldn't be me, if I didn't." you said.

"Yeah, you're right about that, Singer." Dean said, squeezing your hand, "You're right about that." he softly repeated to himself, a smile on his face as the two of you drove back to the motel to pick up Sam. 

A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone that takes the time to read these. The likes, comments, and reblogs mean the world to me, and I love reading what you guys have to say. So, thank you for being fuckin’ awesome. <3 

Tags: @miraclesoflove @22sarah08 @deans-baby-momma​ @spnae​ @karikatz12481​ @spngirl05​ @winchester-fantasies​ @freddiemermaytaydeac

@rainbowkisses31​ @in-deans-arms @scentedhoundshepherdmoney​ @teamfreewillisbae​ @it-could-go-off​​​

#supernatural fanfiction #series rewrite #dean x reader #reader insert #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert #dean x you #dean #sam winchester #spn fic #spn

[packsbeforesnacks]

This is Side One || Ariana & Winn

TIMING: Tuesday, June 2nd, 2020, Sunset LOCATION: Winn’s car. PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Winn picks Ariana up to have a night watchin’ stars at the cabin. On the car ride over, the two have a conversation about grief, and about the future for Ariana and the pack. WARNINGS: Depression and grief, sibling death mentioned (Celeste). SOUNDTRACK: “Dead on Arrival” by Fall Out Boy

Although she was still a little bit upset at Winn for not giving a warning that he was leaving town, Ariana knew she didn’t want to hold a grudge against him forever. Celeste’s death had been a reminder of just how fragile life was. It was better to hear him out now and work towards getting back to being good again. She’d always considered other wolves family in a sense, even Salva who pissed her off to no end, but now it felt more important to cherish that bond. To hold on to the people she cared about and never let go. She’d given Morgan and Deirdre a wave before heading out the door, backpack in tow, in the same leggings and soccer team t-shirt she’d worn the last two days. She’d been sitting on the steps, weight pressed back in her palms, staring up at the sky until she saw Winn’s car stopping in front of the house. She slowly pushed herself off the step and dragged herself toward the car. Moving in general still took about all the energy she had it in her to muster. She let herself in the car and greeted, “Hey, I’m glad you’re back.” She lightly punched his arm. “Now no leaving town again without telling me, okay?”

A lot had gone on in Winn’s absence, but nothing really made him feel worse than not bein’ able to be there for Ariana in her time of need. He couldn’t have known — or… well, he could have known. Had he just fixed his damn phone, not felt like he had the luxury of waitin’. He knew about the bounty. He should’ve been prepared. But he knew, now. Knew he wouldn’t do that again, knew that his pack, because… well, they were, now, deserved at least a heads-up next time. Noah, most of all, but… well, Ariana and Layla were next down. “I’m glad to be back,” Winn agreed as Ari hopped in the car. “Now, tell me whatcha want for food, nothin’ is too extravagant. And I am not,” Winn added, because it was his lot in life now, “tryin’ to bribe you, I promise. Just worried y’all don’t eat when I’m not around, it’s the southern in me.” He turned the music down a skosh, giving Ari a once over. It didn’t seem, like, great to tell her she looked a bit shit, given the circumstances, but Winn did kinda want to throw her into a shower and give her the fluffiest pajamas. So, there was that. “Um, so,” was there a good way to start this? probably not, “for what it’s worth, I am sorry. For makin’ y’all worry. And for fightin’ Blanche without, like, at least a referee-wolf there. Or in human form. Or somethin’.” He grimaced. “I’m the pack dummy.”

As pissed off as she had been, Ariana was glad to have Winn back in town. More importantly, he was safe. She wasn’t sure she could handle losing someone else right now. It already felt as if somehow gravity’s pull on her became stronger and kept her laying on the ground most of the time when she hadn’t been at school finishing exams. Even when she tried to get up and move, she somehow kept finding herself back on the floor, just staring off trying to cling to her favorite memories in hopes they’d never slip away. She’d been so worried when Winn ran off, that seeing him had washed a huge wave of relief over her. And of course he was trying to feed her. They hadn’t gotten too much of a chance to hang out, but it was pretty much guaranteed that every time they did he was making sure she was well-fed. She forced a weak smile and answered, “How about cheeseburgers? Didn’t think you were. I already forgave you, no bribes necessary.” Her appetite had been pretty nonexistent, so she figured one of her favorite comfort foods would help. Plus, if she knew Winn at all, he’d be pretty set on making sure he was fed. He was caring like that, or at least, he always seemed to be with her. Her grin came a little more naturally when he mentioned being the pack dummy. She chided, “Hey now, you don’t get a monopoly on that one. It’s a title we get to pass around, but yeah, don’t do that again. I don’t know what I’d do if something bad happened to you or Blanche.”

“Mmm. I know just the place for burgers. Let’s ride, kiddo.” Winn turned the key, his car wheezing and coughing back to life. It would be just about his luck for it to give up the ghost (inappropriate?) when he really needed it. Just get me home, okay? His dad had nagged him to replace the car after it had just barely made their trip back up from Philly. Winn really didn’t know how to react to parental nagging, given he’d gone without it for nearly a decade, but his dad was comin’ from a good place. And he was the one havin’ to drive the car most often lately, so Winn couldn’t truly be mad. He swung towards the Outskirts, knowin’ that he and Rio had destroyed some burgers from the joint on the way out of town. Winn wasn’t proud of the way that he’d grabbed dinner from there throughout April and May — and his dad had been appalled at the lack of basics in his fridge, another reason why Winn needed to move out — but it really was that good. Perfect amount of grease. Killer milkshakes. Knew how to make actual sweet tea. “Don’t worry. I won’t. And we won’t.” It felt like a half-promise. Livin’ in White Crest, Winn never felt safe tellin’ someone that he’d be okay. Not forever, not even for a day or two, dependin’ on the week. He spoke quietly, takin’ his eyes off the road probably longer than was strictly safe, to look at Ari. “I get if you don’t wanna talk ‘bout it, but… losin’ someone, ‘specially someone special to you… Well, I don’t want to tell you how to feel. So, how ‘bout you tell me how you feel? If you’re, um, up for it.”

Ariana did her best to focus on Winn’s company rather than the crushed feeling that just couldn’t seem to leave her chest. It felt as if her heart had been trampled on and was left heavier for it. It weighed down her every move, but if she shifted focus long enough, she was sure she could work up an appetite. She cracked a weak smile and joked, “I trust you know your meat.” It made her feel just a little better that Winn would be more careful. She could only hope Blanche would do the same. “Good,” she said, plainly. Not having the energy to push the topic any further. She originally planned on giving him a good smack and giving him some shit about the whole thing, but she was tired and it was pretty obvious he realized the whole thing was a dumb idea now. With the mention of how she was feeling, a clear grimace went across her face. Her lungs felt as if the wind had been knocked out of them as her mind searched for her words. She knew Winn asked that genuinely, but fuck, did talking about it really suck. Not that thinking about it was much better and it had been most of what she’d done outside of finals and the few distractions that could hold her attention if only for a few moments. She looked down at her lap and finally answered, “Honestly? Really fucking shitty.” With another deep breath, she looked to him and then back at the road ahead of them, “Sad. Mad. Empty. You name it. Everything just feels so wrong. We were supposed—” Her voice cracked and she realized this is why talking about it felt so hard. “We were supposed to enjoy freedom together. She never— She deserved better.”

Winn was at a loss for what to say. He couldn’t make it better, this wasn’t a problem that could be smoothed over with money or smooth-talking. Only time. “I don’t have any platitudes for you. I won’t disrespect you by sayin’ that it’ll get better, or that she would have wanted you to be happy. That don’t fix shit.” He sighed. “I will say this, what I’ll always say to you: You have to feel what you feel. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. But you can’t keep it inside either. Freedom is…” Okay, this was either going to go well or terribly. “Freedom ain’t just about bein’ free from the shit that’s tryin’ to kill you. It’s mental, too. I— I don’t understand what you’re going through; I can’t understand. But I can tell you that wrappin’ yourself up in ‘supposed’ to isn’t going to help you. I spent a really long time convincin’ myself that I knew what other folks wanted, that I should do x, y, or z, because it was what I was supposed to do. Be a good son, let people go, make it so they didn’t have to worry about me. But that isn’t what they wanted, and that isn’t what mattered. All it did was wrap around me, until the guilt was all that I was. I mean, shit, I’m still workin’ through it, but I don’t want that for you, Ariana. If I can help it. Celeste did deserve better. God, there are so many fuckin’ ways in which she, in which you, in which all of us deserve better than the shit hands we’ve been dealt. Only thing we can change is how we play that hand. Foldin’ ain’t an option, but that don’t mean you have to go all in. Take the time you need, I guess, is what I’m tryin’ to say. Don’t let anybody tell you — hell, even me — how to grieve, or process, or move forward. So long as you know that… Well, so long as you know that we still have to play the game. We’re already breakin’ the rules, just by still bein’ here. And those rules need to be broken. ‘Cause fuck ‘em. Fuck all of it. ‘Cause life ain’t actually a game, and who cares if you win. So long as you’re following your own path, that’s all that… anyone can hope for you.” He coughed, hands squeezing at the steering wheel as they pulled through the drivethrough. After he ordered, he added, “Sorry, I got a little carried away. Just… Don’t feel like you have to pretend, not around me.”

As much as the whole conversation made her stomach turn, Ariana knew he was right in many regards. She’d never been one to avoid her feelings, but feeling her way through this? It was hell. It’d been four days since she’d seen or spoken to Celeste and each one of them felt impossibly long. Her hands were clasped together in her lap as her head was still pressed against the cool glass of the window. “I don’t know, like I am just kind of feeling through this whole thing and trying to accept what I’m feeling, it’s just hard. And I can’t really think too much past each minute as it passes because if I try to look ahead it just feels… wrong. Like we had all these plans for the future and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to just, I don’t even know, figure out what I want with my future now?” She listened as Winn spoke and couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes. They did all deserve better, especially Celeste, but that wasn’t how the world worked. It even seemed disproportionate at that. Like somehow by just being wolves, hunters, or even remotely associated with the supernatural, there was more darkness to overcome. She nodded slowly and shakily replied, “I know. I guess supposed to doesn’t really exist. If things were supposed to be some way they just would be. It just— Nothing feels right. I don’t feel right. I’m sad, I’m mad, I’m lost— Everything feels just like this huge weight that makes it so much harder to do even simple things like take a fucking shower. And I miss her, I miss her so fucking much. I miss hearing her constantly humming some stupid ABBA song. I miss the way she’d tussle my hair when we’d joke around. I miss the sound of her voice and even miss her soft snores that I’d always make fun of.” She sniffled and her voice sounded desperate as she spoke as she spoke as if it would change anything at all. She tried to smile as Winn told her to feel free to not pretend for him or anyone else, but it came off as a pained grimace at best. “I know, I don’t have to be anything for anyone and there’s no right way to deal with this. Everything just feels so— I don’t know heavy. Wrong. Lost. Take your pick.”

“You don’t have to have an answer,” Winn said, tucking the takeout bag behind his seat before pulling out onto the road. “To your future, to your feelings.” There was a milkshake — raspberry lemon — in his hand, and he offered it to Ariana. “It’s... not much, I know. But when we got burgers, that first time, you told me how much you liked these. I tried one, grimaced through the lemon and raspberry, not really my thing. But it reminds me of you. Not sour, not cloyingly sweet. Strong and tart and someone’s favorite flavor, somewhere. A lot of folks’, probably. I’m not... good at metaphors, but we all find our favorite flavors, our people. And we hold ‘em tight. Because we don’t know how long they’ll be there. No one knows.” A sad smile as he turned his attention back to the road. “I love you, kiddo. Ariana. And I’m here for you. You’re one of my favorite flavors.”

#wickedswriting #para #Ariana #This is Side One #Sunshine Riptide

[takeiteasypeasybaby]

Save Me: Chapter 12 - Darlin

~Hey guys! This is Chapter 12 of ‘Save Me’ ❤️ Negan confronts Molly about the fight while Sherry and Dwight become concerned about their familiarity with each other... I hope you enjoy and chapter 13 will be out on Sunday 🤟🏻~

Molly felt both vulnerable and unstoppable when she was around him. But the dangerous thing was that he had the power to make her feel like she was both his world or less than nothing. As much as she didn't want to want him, she couldn't stop herself. No matter who warned her, she would have to discover his true nature on her own and that would be a lonely road indeed. 

I had walked away from him. I didn't look back but I could feel his eyes on me, as were everyone else's.

He would surely kill me now, especially after that.

I knew no one but him had heard what I said but even so, doing anything without his permission made people audibly gasp.

Sherry walked slowly out of the hall, once Negan had dismissed them and once she reached the corridor she ran after me.

Even though I was almost back at my room by now, I heard Negan's voice echo through the corridor.

'Quit standing around, get back to work!' he yelled.

He was pissed.

I knew this would probably be the end of me so I sat in my room waiting for what felt like an eternity.

Sherry had knocked on my door multiple times, bringing me food, asking if I was okay but I couldn't move and eventually she left.

I wasn't angry at Sherry but I couldn't help that a wave of rage rose through me at what Negan had put me through.

He made me fight in front of everyone like I was some sort of joke, a performing monkey dancing to his tune.

It felt like we'd gone straight back to square one and everything nice that he'd done for me, everything he'd shown me had all been a lie.

I had sat there for hours, waiting for him to come and kill me but he never did.

So, I decided to try and get some sleep as I was exhausted and in pain from the fight.

Of course all night I tossed and turned thinking about how I always knew that he was working some angle to recruit me and so was I in trying to find his weaknesses and exploit them, but it all felt strangely genuine and real.

I guess it wasn't just Negan I was angry at, but also myself in developing feelings for someone so utterly heartless.

The next morning...

It was early in the morning when I woke, my eyes and jaw clenched shut as I writhed in pain upon rising.

Shit.

What if I broke something during the fight?

As I sat up slowly, and tried to roll my shoulders I gasped in pain as my shoulder locked in place.

Cold sweats grew across my body which definitely wasn't a good sign.

The bad thing was that with everything that I had gone through in life, surviving one day to the next, gaining new injuries almost every damn day, my pain tolerance increased and so if I had broken something, I couldn't feel it as much.

But I knew I had to take a look and see what the hell was going on.

I walked over to the mirror and gently removed my shirt that I always wore to bed, using only one arm to do so.

My eyes started to cloud and water as I saw the state of my body.

I had bruising all down the right side of my ribcage and on my right arm where that guy must have thrown me backwards and my shoulder looked ever so slightly out of place.

I had painkillers in my room and took some water with them to ease the pain, but I didn't want to go to Dr Carson (Hilltop doctor's brother) because I hated people fussing over me.

Plus, Negan might take it for weakness and try and exploit it which wasn't gonna happen.  

Suddenly there came a knock on my door, just as I was putting my shirt back on.

It was a loud booming knock, like metal hitting metal.

I froze, wide eyed. It was Lucille.

I took a deep breath, smoothing down my hair before walking over to the door and unlocking it to reveal Negan.

He stood there, expressionless for a second and looked directly into my eyes as he waited silently for almost an awkward length of time.

Holding Lucille over his shoulder and standing, almost leaning, he said softly 'can I come in?'.

I glared at him, hoping he would just get it over with.

'Look, if you're gonna kill me, can you just get it over with? I'm guessing that after what I said you're done with me' I said sighing as I folded my arms.

He stared at me, confused as Lucille rested loosely over his shoulder. 'You think I'm gonna fuckin' off you right now because you fuckin' spoke to me?! Jesus. You must think I'm a monster, huh?' he said chuckling.

I looked at him as relief and frustration washed over me, my arms dropping to my sides.

'I threatened you in front of your beloved Saviours and you still won't kill me?!' I said with a raised voice.

He sauntered in slowly, looking around as he did so, frowning as though something was on his mind but he didn't know how to approach it.

'You seriously think I'm fuckin' insecure that my guys will think me weak if I don't kill you for talkin' to me that way?' he said mockingly as he walked closer.

'Darlin'...my people worship the fuckin' ground that I walk on. Not you or your little friends back at Alexandria could ever change that. However, I do appreciate your damn badassery, which is why I want you here' he spoke seriously.

He then smiled, almost happily as his thoughts weighed on something lighter, 'so how are you likin' it here?' he asked.

I stared back at him for a second before saying sternly 'are you serious?'.

He scowled for a brief moment before it turned to sadness. I was clearly still engaged with our previous topic of discussion which made him sigh heavily.

He looked tired, bags under his eyes like he hadn't slept either.

'Punishment is part of the New World Order. You know the rules now' he said softly but sternly.

'I know that and I get it, you wanted me to prove myself. But Sherry? What the hell was that about?!' I said moving closer towards him.

He sighed, putting Lucille down by my bookshelf.

'Look, darlin...Sherry broke the rules, just like you', he said moving closer almost reaching his hands out to hold me.

I stepped back slightly to create some distance between us.

'What rule?! Because I talked to her?, because I treated her like an actual human being and not some doll that has to sit in that room and wait for you to come play with her?! I yelled.

He scowled at me for this.

'Those ladies made the choice, they want to be there' he said in a low grumble.

I stepped closer to him again, looking in his eyes, trying to find some shred of humanity.

'Why were you so pissed at me for wearing a black dress? Or did you secretly get off on watching me fight in it?' I taunted.

He frowned harder now, inching closer to me on every word.

'Is that it? Did you wanna see me and Sherry fight each other in little dresses? Is that what you like?' I whispered in his ear, he growled closing his eyes.

He was actually turned on right now.

A small smile crept over my face as I felt what effect I was having on him.

Finally a victory after being powerless for so long.

His head bowed down as I lingered close to his ear, almost nestling into my neck.

It felt strangely comforting considering the fight we just had.

I felt his breath on my neck, warm and tingling, the smile on my face left now as my mouth flung open at the feel of him on me.

Then, almost impulsively, he moved his hands forward from by his sides to gently grab at my waist.

I flinched slightly as apart from holding hands with him, I'd never felt his touch before.

He was warm and gentle, so different from how I pictured it.

Not that I had pictured it or anything...

My eyes closed as I begun to glide my hands up his arms, resting around his neck.

His arms were toned, or so I could tell over his leather jacket and his whole body radiated heat like a furnace.

I felt his head dip closer and closer to my neck until I felt his nose nuzzle into my skin.

I think he was surprised that I put my arms around him because I could literally feel him grinning on my neck which turned into a light chuckle.

I hated to feel so vulnerable, but in his arms for those few minutes felt so good, so strangely safe considering what this man had done.

As my hands moved slowly up into his hair, which was incredibly soft and smelled like spiced musk, his grin on my neck began to fade as I felt his mouth part slightly against my skin.

I was turning him on even more, but it was like a game and he knew he could one up me.

His mouth parted gently touching my bare skin, almost grazing it the first time.

But when his mouth passed over my skin again, he started to kiss me.

I felt my eyes literally roll back at his touch and had to really struggle to fight back a moan as his kisses pressed deeper and deeper into my neck until he had kissed from my shoulder to my throat.

He started to lick and suck at my neck, wrapping his arms tighter around my waist just as he nudged my bruising accidentally.

I pushed him backwards with both my hands on his chest, breathing heavily and eyes tightly shut as I felt the pleasure of him quickly turn into agony.

He looked into my eyes, smiling at first at our intimacy, but that quickly dropped into grave concern once he saw the pain on my face.

'You okay darlin?' he asked stroking my arm gently.

I moved away from him and instead walked around the room, trying not to give away how much I was in pain.

'Uh huh, yeah I'm good' I said weakily, just needing him to leave before he found out.

I turned back around, flipping my hair over to the other side and giving him a assuring smile.

He saw right through that one.

He frowned, still concerned and this time looked deadly serious as he said 'well that's bullshit. I'm serious Molly, what is it?'.

He walked over and seeing how I kept adjusting my shirt, knew that something was wrong with me.

He reached for my waist, and inched up my shirt slowly.

'What are you doing?' I asked furrowing my brows.

'We're friends. C'mon, drop trou' he said smiling softly.

I looked at him for a second before rolling my eyes and nodding to let him lift my shirt.

'I don't think friends is what I would categorise us as, but fine' I said mockingly.

He chuckled before seeing my bruising which made his face drop.

His look was one of regret and guilt but also deep sadness.

He sighed before pulling back down my top.

'Molly, I-'he started to say before I stopped him.

'Don't, It doesn't matter' I replied wearily.

His eyes were full of anger now 'like hell it does Molly, c'mon you've gotta see the Doc about that' he said gently stroking my arm.

I sighed, 'fine, but I'm only getting some more meds. I don't need a full check up'.

Negan grabbed my jacket before we strolled to the Doctor's ward.

Looking up at him as we walked, I could tell he was deep in thought.

His brows were furrowed and he was looking down at the ground as he swung Lucille on his shoulder from left to right.

It was strange how I could always tell what he was thinking and I felt strange after the whole room incident, and I couldn't tell whether what I felt was a good or a bad thing.

As we almost reached the Doctor's office, Negan paused grabbing my hand and stopping me in my tracks.

'Molly, I did this. I hurt you, that's on me. Shit, I'm so sorry', he looked into my eyes, his were low and full of sorrow.

This was the first time he had ever actually apologised to me and not just joked around, he was serious.

I looked at him before stepping closer, now letting go of his hand.

'I forgive you...it doesn't mean that I trust you. But thank you for apologising and I'll be fine, i've survived much worse than this' I smiled weakly before stepping in to see Dr Carson.

Negan stood in the room while I lay on the examination chair, scowling at the Doctor and shouting at him when he was taking too long.

'Alright, looks like the bruising hasn't been the cause of internal bleeding and you only have a dislocated shoulder which I can put back right now for you', he said smiling.

'Thank you so much, Dr Carson' I replied.

Negan rolled his eyes at this and swung Lucille around like a kid would do if they got bored.

Once my shoulder was popped back, Carson gave me some meds for the inflammation and pain and sent me on my way.

Just as we left he said 'the medication will take a couple hours to take effect but a hot compress or shower will help ease the pain'.

I smiled and thanked him before walking out, Negan strolling behind me.

I could hear him chuckle and when I turned around a wide grin was painted across his smug face.

No one was around us, just us and an empty corridor so I knew I could be relaxed when talking to him, especially after what had passed between us.

I looked at him sceptically with a slight smirk and said 'what?'.

'A shower the doc says ey?' he said smirking and winked at me.

I chuckled, rolling my eyes and said 'lemme guess, you've got a shower'.

He nodded innocently 'uh huh' and bit his lip.

I looked at him up and down, 'no chance. I'd rather use the communal ones downstairs' I smiled sarcastically.

'Ah but they don't have hot water, only I do' he said smugly while swinging Lucille over his shoulder and strolling right past me.

'Of fucking course, just my luck' I whispered, but he heard me.

'Just your luck indeed darlin, I'm giving you the opportunity to get naked in the bathroom of yours truly' he said smirking.

'Hmm tempting offer. How could I ever reject such gentlemanly advances?' I chuckled.

He smiled before getting all serious again.

'Okay look, I promise alright, no funny business. Doctor's orders and I need you well again', he said with scouts honour.

I scowled, 'fine, but there better be a lock on the door. Don't want you going all psycho on me or sneaking in for a quick peek' I pointed at him warningly, smirking slightly.

He rolled his eyes before guiding me to his room.

He walked in sighing before throwing Lucille down onto a chair and putting his feet up on his bed.

He smirked at my awkwardness at being in his room.

'Bathroom's just in there, shout if you need any assistance' he said smiling.

'Haha very funny' I said stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind me.

Wow. It was amazing, cream tiles covered the floor and walls, double sinks a large shower.

Probably to fit all of his wives in if he wanted. I grew uncomfortable at the thought of who had been in here.

I locked the door and stripped naked, admiring my body in the mirror before jumping in the shower.

Bruises still covered me but I had found a new appreciation for my body.

I guess running all day everyday from every sort of danger that now plagued this world gave me a toned and ample physique and I actually felt truly happy with myself which was definitely new to me.

I turned on the shower and stepped in, it was hot and steam flooded the room.

Fresh clean smells filled the room once I had washed my hair and body.

It was kind of a turn on to use his products, although I would never admit that to him but smelling of that same fresh yet musky spice was weirdly comforting.

Turning off the water, I grabbed one of his towels and wrapped it around my body.

My clothes were disgusting and smelled awful so I couldn't put them back on since I was nice and clean.

So I decided to push my luck and ask Negan if I could borrow some clothes.

'Negan!' I shouted from the bathroom.

'Yeah doll?' he answered happily.

'Do you have...maybe, you know, any fresh clothes I could borrow?' I pleaded.

He chuckled, 'yeah, hold on'.

I came out of the bathroom, just wrapped in a towel.

He was getting some clothes from his drawers when he turned around and looked speechless.

'Wow, you sure you need these? I mean fuck darlin' he said sauntering over to me, looking me up and down as he did so.

I smiled sweetly saying 'I'm sure you'd love that, but I'm not sure about your wives'.

I took the clothes from him and went back into the bathroom to change.

He smirked and said from the other side of the door, 'well they like to share, you know, so you'd fit right in there'.

I was stunned at this and opened the door suddenly.

I was wearing one of his white t shirts and grey lounge pants, rolled up at the ankles because they were too long on me.

I was serious, no more smiling now.

'Never gonna happen. I need to be a part of something otherwise I'd go crazy. I could never just be in that room all day' I said seriously.

He smirked before lowering his head to the ground as though he was slightly disappointed.

'I know darlin, you're a badass. You belong out there' he said pointing to the window.

I smiled slightly, he could read me like a book.

'I should go, got saving to do' I said winking as I left.

He smiled before saying sweetly 'later darlin'. 

Just as I walked out of Negan's room, I saw Sherry standing in the corridor, wide eyed and frowning at me considering where I'd just been.

As I walked towards her, she almost ran to me saying 'where the hell have you been?! I came to check on you last night and you didn't answer? And now you were in Negan's room?!'.

I shot her look of gratitude in her concern but I simply replied 'I'm fine, I just got checked out by Dr Carson. Yesterday was kind of crazy so I didn't feel like talking to anyone'.

'Oh yeah, except for Negan?' she said scowling.

'Trust me, I get it. But I was just using his shower, Carson's recommendation by the way' I replied calmly.

She laughed mockingly saying 'yeah and who do you think told him to say that? You can't trust him, he was willing to let us both die yesterday all under the pretence of punishment'.

'It was a test' I replied cooly.

'Listen to yourself! God, you're under his spell and you don't even know it!', she said trying to stay calm.

'It's not like that! You know me, the closer I can get to him, the more I have as leverage. It's that simple' I argued.

I softened a little now.

'Why didn't you tell me about Dwight?' I said defensively.

She looked down before saying wearily 'because it didn't matter. We're not together anymore, he's not a part of my life'.

'Well, yeah but-' I started to say before she stopped me.

'But nothing, It's not that I don't love Dwight. I do. But I can't cheat on Negan, none of us can. It's one of his rules. So to keep Dwight safe, I have to do what he says' she whispered more quietly than before.

She sighed, before pulling me into a hug.

'Look, just be careful, okay? The people closest to him, never make it in the end. Never forget that he's a monster, and always will be' she said warningly.

I could tell she wanted to say more but couldn't find the words.

So, I just nodded with a slight smile before leaving her to get some fresh air.

Inhaling, breathing in that cool air was like sending a shock to the system.

What the hell was I doing with Negan?

Sherry was right, he is and always will be a monster. The things he's done, people he's killed can never be erased or forgotten.

Most importantly, Tara would never forgive me.

I looked out towards the fence, walkers chained to it, people with sticks fixing up new walkers after the old ones had decayed.

I couldn't decide whether it was sadistic or down right smart.

It was strangely peaceful, even though I was stuck here at the Sanctuary, being outdoors felt right, like I was alive.

Just as I was pondering these thoughts, out came Dwight who looked like he'd been trying to find me.

I looked over my shoulder at him before carrying on with my breathing.

He walked over to me in silence before propping his elbows on the railing next to mine.

'You on board?' he asked hastily like he had some place to be and wasn't supposed to be talking to me.

I looked at him for a second before saying 'what does it look like?'.

'I dunno, but either way, I hope for your sake that you are on our side. Because if you aren't, Negan will kill you and I don't want Sherry to have to go through that' he said warningly.

I smirked slightly, 'Don't worry Dwight, I'll be fine, always am', I said squinting at the sun gleaming in my eyes.

'I'm not worried for you' he said hastily.

I chuckled and replied 'course not, I would never expect that from you'.

He was about to leave before spinning around and saying quietly 'I wish I could take back what I did to your friend, you know that' and then he went back inside.

I stayed looking outward, I smiled at the setting sun.

All the while noticing in my peripheral that Negan had been watching this conversation from his window, scowling at every smile or chuckle.

I slept well that night, knowing clear in my head what I had to do to protect my family. Despite my growing feelings for both Negan and the Sanctuary.

Next day...

When I woke, there was a loud banging at my door so I lept up, dressed and groggily answered the door rubbing my eyes.

It was him.

'Mornin beautiful' he said smirking at my appearance.

I groaned and looked at the time, it was 5:30am.

'Why the hell so early?!' I whined which made him chuckle.

'C'mon doll, breakfast then meeting' he said tapping Lucille against the door frame as he spoke.

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my jacket and walked with him to the main hall.

Still half asleep, I asked 'wait...meeting?'.

'Uh huh, if you're one of my top people, then you get to be in the meetings. Usually it's fucking boring shit, but I think you'll enjoy it', he said smirking while grabbing fruit from the canteen.

'Hold up, the hell's that supposed to mean?!' I asked while grabbing some toast.

He strolled out in front of me, not answering till we sat down.

I'd never eaten in here before, but it looked like Negan and his top guys sat at the front of the room, while everyone else ate lower down.

Hierarchy even at breakfast time. Great.

All eyes were on us as we walked to the table, people knelt as he walked by and as we got to the table, no one smiled or said anything to me.

Dwight gave me a nod but that was about it.

Arat, the woman I fought, scowled at me and Simon, the guy with the moustache who was also Negan's right hand man, looked at me like I was nothing.

'Guys, this is Molly, some of you have already met her, but she's one of us now so treat her with the fucking respect she deserves' he said softly while sitting down, although I'm pretty sure everyone heard his speech.

Everyone ate in silence or mumbled to each other, and when they were done they upped and left in two seconds, letting Negan know that they would be in the meeting room when he was ready.

Negan was done but just watched me as I devoured every last crumb of toast, he admired me with awe.

'You want any else? Rack of lamb?' he said mockingly at my lack of manners.

I looked up at him, finishing eating, 'nope, I'm good' I said smiling sweetly.

He laughed, 'alright, c'mon darlin' he said while holding out his hand.

It felt good to be around him, to feel valued. But it was extreme, like a high and the coming down, I knew would feel like dying but I just couldn't stop myself.

I kept telling myself that this was just a game, but sometimes I forgot we were still playing.

He interlocked his hand with mine as he smiled at me, and we walked to the meeting room.

All the while, people whispered and gasped at our display of affection.

#negan x original female character #twd negan #negan #negan imagine #twd fanfiction #negan fanfiction #twd #slowburn #thewalkingdead #jdm #slow build #twdromance #twdfanfic #daryldixon #rickgrimes #maggie #mollychambler #negan smut #negan's thirst squad

[norequestimagines]

Safeguard [Pt. 2]

TW: domestic violence, smut

Thank you all for all the love on part one! Please go easy on me here, it’s my first time writing smut of any kind and it’s not very detailed. I tried lmao I hope y’all enjoy!

Josh helped my shaky body into the front seat of his truck before running around and getting in on the other side. The drive was quiet. I just didn’t know what to say. Being in his truck again felt like home and so uncomfortable simultaneously. There was so much left unsaid between us after the breakup, and now that such an emotional bomb had gone off, I just felt… overwhelmed. 

“Hey, me again. I’m not mad or anything, Josh, I just want to make sure you’re okay. You said you’d be home at 7; it’s 9 now and I haven’t heard a thing from you or any of the guys… Kinda starting to freak out, here. I love you, okay? I hope you’re home soon.” 

I’d texted him three times, called twice, and left one voicemail. Josh was forgetful, sure, but he wasn’t one to leave me waiting up with no explanation. He always shot me a quick “heading out with Seth and Boone, be home late!” text or at the very least had one of his buddies let me know, in the event his phone died or he left it at the arena. He’s never left me hanging like this before, and especially not on a night like tonight; our three year anniversary. 

We’d agreed to do something low key this year. The past two years had been big nights out but both of us had been so busy with work we just wanted to take some time for a night in. I’d ordered food from our favorite restaurant and made sure the house had a relaxing, romantic but low key ambiance to it. Way too much time was spent perfecting my hair into beach waves. My outfit was simple; distressed skinny jeans and a chunky white cardigan. He’d said more than once that even though I looked incredible in a gown for his charity events and award ceremonies, that his favorite thing to see me in was an outfit like this, because it’s what he wants to come home to for the rest of his life. I just wish he’d come home now. 

As I began to pack the food away, too sick with worry to eat any of it, my anxious mind began to wander. I started to put everything in the fridge and imagined all the terrible things that could’ve happened. What if he got into a car accident? Or he forgot to tell me he was going out with the guys and got into a bar fight and got arrested? What if he just completely forgot about tonight altogether? No, Josh would never forget our anniversary. But if he didn’t forget, he must be in jail or the hospital. 

Attempting (and failing) to keep myself too busy to worry, I was folding laundry when I heard a door open and shut. 

“Josh?!” I leapt out of my seat and ran to the living room where my boyfriend (who appeared safe and healthy and un-incarcerated) stood, hanging his jacket on the coat rack. 

“Hey.” he muttered, not even looking up to face me. 

I furrowed my brows, confused by the way he was acting. He was like this after a bad game sometimes but they didn’t have a game at all today. “Are you okay? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you; you had me worried, honey.”

“M’fine. Gonna go take a shower.” He trudged up the stairs and I figured it best to give him some space before prying. 

Once I heard the shower shut off, I made my way upstairs to try to unpack whatever was weighing him down. He was sitting on his side of the bed in a pair of sweats, facing our bedroom window with his head held in his hands.

“You want to talk about it?” I asked, my voice just above a whisper.

“No.” 

I wasn’t really sure where to go from here. Josh was never this cold with me. I slowly made my way to the bed, crawling to sit behind him before wrapping both my legs and arms around his middle. 

“Where were you, baby? I was so worried.”

“Can I just have ten god damn minutes?!” He stood and held his hands up, clearly frustrated. With what, I didn’t know. 

“I… Josh, I didn’t mean to…” I was at a loss. We’d gotten annoyed with each other, sure. What couple didn’t have arguments? But in the three years we’d been together, he’d never raised his voice at me. “It’s just, we made plans for tonight, and when you didn’t show up, I thought something had happened to you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah, Kara, I couldn’t really care less right now about our stupid plans, alright? I know I skipped out on our anniversary. But maybe I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t cheated on me.”

I could do nothing but stare at him doe-eyed. It had never crossed my mind since meeting Josh to even look at another man, let alone do anything with one. I loved him so much I wasn’t sure I could ever be with anyone else again. 

“Josh, what are you talking about?” I whimpered, tears already forming in my eyes. 

“Don’t play fucking stupid. You got caught, alright? Just own up to it.” He looked at me like I was gum on the bottom of his shoe.

“I didn’t get caught because I didn’t do anything!”

“Oh, yeah? The explain Riley.”

Riley. That name automatically sent me to a dark place.

Riley and I met in high school. He ran with the popular crowd, I guess, but it’s not like he was captain of the football team or anything. He was just well liked. Funny and smart and kind to everyone, regardless of their popularity. We started talking when we were paired up during a project for art class. He was sweet; would always carry my books and walk me to class, sometimes even surprising me with a coffee or flowers at my locker in the morning. But, all that glitters isn’t always gold. 

After we went to junior prom together, Riley and I began to get more serious. Over the summer, he’d convinced me to write off all of my friends because he just loved spending time with me so much, he wanted to spend it all with me. I quit the dance team because the form fitting costumes we wore made Riley uncomfortable. For a long time, found it endearing he cared so much. Until we left for college.

We both went to Ohio State and during sophomore year, we rented our first house together. That’s when things with Riley started turning really sour. I was expected to text Riley all day, every day, whether I was in a lecture, trying to take notes, or at work, trying to wait tables. My friends all had to be female, and if we ever went out, Riley had to come with, and had to approve my outfits before I was allowed to leave the house. One night, a guy from my chemistry class asked if he could come over to copy my notes from a day of class he missed. That was the first time Riley hit me. 

It only got worse from there. He’d come to my work, ordering drinks all night from across the restaurant while watching me. When I talked too kindly with a customer, I’d get punished. If I sat next to a male in class or stood too close to a male at a football game, I’d get punished. He stayed clear of my face and arms, but my ribs and legs were constantly littered with bruises from where he’d hit and kicked me.

I deserved it. Riley convinced me of that. I didn’t love him enough and this was my punishment. 

I didn’t seek help, myself. One night, Riley got sloppy and hit me across the face, resulting in a black eye. I covered as best I could with makeup the next morning before class but the guy from chemistry noticed. He’d text me during class for weeks, asking if I was okay, and if I needed help. Two weeks after the black eye, when Riley broke two of my ribs with his steel toed boots. The next morning, after Riley had left for work, I texted the guy from chem. “I need help.”

His mom had been a survivor of domestic abuse. She worked for the state now and gave me all the help I needed to get away from Riley. He was sent to jail for a while, and I went to therapy for years, trying to understand that this wasn’t my fault and I didn’t deserve it. I now had a restraining order against him and he hadn’t bothered me in years. 

“Riley?! How do you even know that name?! Josh, I don’t know what the fuck is going on but I swear on my life I have never cheated on you!”

He scoffed, pulling up instagram on his phone. “Swear on this.” He threw his phone next to me on the bed.

I picked up the phone with shaking hands. 

I saw Riley’s instagram account. There were pictures of him at work or with his family, but I also saw pictures of the two of us taken in college being posted as if they were taken now. Me sitting across from him in coffee shops and us holding hands in the streets of downtown Columbus. Captions reading, “if only you knew how much i loved you” and “can’t wait to see her again”. Tears began pouring freely down my face. 

“Josh, no. No, no, no, you don’t understand. This isn’t… He’s-”

“Just fuckin’ let it go, Kara. I found you out.” He snatched his phone out of my hands. “Some fan DM’d me his page and he and I had a nice, lengthy chat about the two of you. I can work through a lot of shit, Kar, but this?! I can’t move past this. I’m done. I’ll find somewhere else to stay for the night. Try not to be here when I get back.”

Before I could even process what had just happened, he was out of the room, slamming the door behind him hard enough to shake the walls. I heard his truck start up and drive away. 

I curled up in a ball and cried until I ran out of tears. I knew better than to try and call or text Josh. He needed to cool off and I needed to respect his space. I wrote him a letter before anything else, explaining my side of things. How Riley and I met and what he did to me. How I had a restraining order against him. How much I hated him and didn’t understand why he was doing this. I was so emotional while writing it, I can hardly remember what it said. I remember crying while writing it, my tears smudging the ink. After I’d gotten everything written down, I folded it up and slid it into an envelope, lying it on top of his pillow. He could read it whenever he was ready and that was the best I could do. Then, I packed a bag, called Boone, and hadn’t seen or heard from Josh since. Just like that. 

Riley had sent me a DM after the incident, asking if he could meet me for coffee so we could talk things over. He had orchestrated this entire thing in an effort to get Josh away from me. It was a breach of the restraining order, but I didn’t want to stir things up. I just wanted the entire mess to go away. I ignored the message and a week later, he showed up at my work. I went into a full panic attack and called the police. He was in custody and I was pressing charges. I just wished I wasn’t going through it alone. I wanted Josh to be there, to stand behind me and quiet my mind when it got too loud. But he was nowhere to be found.

He never called. He never texted. I had no idea if he’d even read the letter or not. Boone said Josh refused to talk about anything having to do with me whatsoever. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad But it’d been two months of me moping around and being afraid of my own shadow, so when Boone begged me to go out, I agreed. I needed to feel something. 

Lost in my memories, I hadn’t noticed the route we had taken. We were across town from my new apartment. We were at our place. Well, Josh’s place. 

“What are we-”

“I just… figured you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight. That’s all.” He twiddled his thumbs against the steering wheel and bit his lip. 

“Thank you.” 

His eyes flashed to me quickly and widened. I assume he was expecting me to ask him to take me home, but as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I had no interest in being alone right now.

Everything in the house was exactly the same. It’d been two months and he hadn’t even moved my scarf from the coat rack. Pictures of us still sat upon shelves. Even the Christmas decorations we’d put up together remained on the walls. 

“You should take a shower, uh, clear your head. I’ll take the guest room.”

“You don’t have to do that, Josh. I can shower down here and take the guest room. You’ve already done more for me tonight than I could ever ask for.”

“Kara, please, just… just take our room, alright? I mean, my room. Or, uh... “ His hand moved to run through his hair and scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’s had since we met. 

An uncomfortable silence came upon us and I wanted to leave the area as quickly as I could.

“I’ll uh, I’ll take your bed.” Carefully, I walked upstairs as if the ground was made of glass. 

I stood under scalding hot water for an hour after scrubbing every inch of my body, making sure to get every microbe from that creep off of me. Josh hadn’t even moved my soap, but craving familiarity and comfort, I opted to use his instead. The scent of cedar filled my nostrils, momentarily making me forget that ash tray scented prick from earlier. 

Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around myself before noticing a few folded pieces of clothing on the counter that weren’t there when I got in. Sitting on top of them was a scratch piece of paper.

Closest I have to anything of yours. -J.

He left a pair of black sweats and a massive Columbus Blue Jays shirt. My favorite one that I’d stolen on more occasions that I could count. I smiled to myself before slipping his shirt on and leaving the sweats on the counter. 

Being back in the bed felt odd. I was relatively used to sleeping in it alone from Josh going on road trips, but this was different. We’d never slept separately while in the same house before. Not even after a fight. We’d always curl up back to back and halfway through the night, he’d wrap around me, apologizing before kissing my neck and falling asleep. Couldn’t do that from downstairs, now could he? And of course, my mind ran a mile a minute, thinking of everything that could’ve happened tonight if Josh hadn’t been there. If he’d still been sick or knew I was going and wanted to avoid me. My restless body found itself tip-toeing down the stairs. 

Raising my hand to knock on the guest room door, it opened before my knuckles could come into contact with it. His blue eyes widened at the sight of me. “I was just heading up to check on you.”

“I can’t um… C-can I sleep with you? I mean, just, I’m so jumpy and every little noise is- you know what? This is stupid, I’m sorry.” I scoffed and turned to head back upstairs. 

“It’s not stupid Kar, you went through some crazy shit. C’mere.”

We laid next to each other in silence. As weird as it was to be in our old bed without him, this was even more uncomfortable. 

“Are you okay? I mean, I know what he did was fucked up but he didn’t physically hurt you, did he?”

“No, no, you uh, you came in time. I’m okay.”

“Good.”

Another minute or two passed and my mind began to wander again.

“Josh, if you hadn’t been there…”

“Hey, come on, you can’t think like that. I was there, and you’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

I looked over at him in the moonlight and took a sharp intake of breath. I just couldn’t stop replaying it in my head. 

“Oh, Kara, honey.” I was pulled into his chest and began taking deep breaths, willing myself to keep it together. “I told you I’d always be here for you and I meant it, alright? Nothing is ever going to happen to you.”

I lifted my head, my sight flickering between his eyes and his lips. Inching forward, I swallowed nervously, afraid of rejection. Instead, Josh gently brushed a strand of damp hair behind my ear and slowly pulled me up to meet him.

The instant our lips touched, I felt fireworks in my stomach and moaned at the contact. I missed him so much. The kiss grew quickly, two months of not even speaking to each other catching up with us quickly. It turned from slow and hesitant to heated and passionate quickly. I began to run my hand down his clothed chest, pushing hands underneath his shirt and lifting it slightly. 

“Kara, wait-” 

“Please.” I whimpered. “I don’t want him to be the last man who’s touched me.”  I kissed him gently, bumping his nose with mine. “Please make me feel safe, Josh.”

He hesitated for a moment but claiming my lips again with his. Slowly, he used one hand to lift the shirt from my body, tossing it into the darkness while moving to lie me on my back and hover above me, one forearm resting next to my head, the other hand cradling my neck. He looked my body up and down and kissed just below my ear. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Kara.” Josh muttered, continuing my assault on my neck and decolletage before making his way back up to sweep his tongue into my mouth. He was always gentle with me but never as gentle as this. Tonight, he handled me as if I were made of glass. Like if he made one wrong move, I’d shatter. And maybe I would. 

He sat up on his knees for a moment to remove his own shirt before settling back down on top of me. His massive body sat on mine as if some kind of weighted blanket, shielding me from the world. As he kissed me, he moved his body along with mine. I could feel his erection growing against my hip and I moaned at the thought of it. My hands made their way down his body and onto his waistband, pushing on his sweats. 

One of his hands halted mine. “Kar, are you sure? I just want to be here for you. We don’t have to do this.”

“I want this, Josh. I want you.” 

His sweats met the floor and his length stood at full attention. I moved a hand to stroke it but he caught my wrist, guiding it to his mouth and kissing my knuckles, “Baby,” my bicep, “this is about you.” my shoulder, “Let me take care of you.”

We locked eyes as slowly pulled my lacy boyshorts down my legs. He kissed, licked, and sucked his way back up my legs, only letting his tongue dip into my heat twice before continuing to kiss up my body. Once he was back up at eye level, I felt his thick fingers carefully moving about around my entrance.

“Josh, please, just… please make love to me.”

His eyes widened but he said nothing, instead using the same hand to pull one of my legs around his hip. He looked down momentarily, lining himself up before thrusting his shaft into me. We moaned together at the feeling. I’d almost forgotten how good we felt together. 

Josh moved slowly, taking his time and being sure to stay close to me. My leg stayed planted atop his hip as he sank to rest his weight on me ever so carefully. When my eyes weren’t shut tight in pleasure, they wandered over him. The furrow of his brow, his button nose that sat above his plump lips. I watched his biceps and abs contract with every movement he made. It didn’t take long for the pressure to build in my center and I began whimpering and moaning his name. 

“Mm, I can’t… Josh, I’m-”

“I know, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.” He buried his head in my neck, gently nipping my earlobe. “Let go, baby. Let me feel you.” He moved his hands down again and circled my clit with them, sending me over the edge. 

“Oh, my god. Oh, my… Ah!” My hands gripped tightly to his biceps as they flexed next to me. I came breathlessly. I saw stars and all I could hear was Josh panting above me as he continued to thrust into me. I felt him bite my shoulder and finally cum inside me with a strangled, “Fuck, I love you.”

He moved to the side slightly, just enough to grab the blanket and pull it over us. I turned on my side. It was only a moment before I felt Josh’s arm wrap around my waist and hold my body tight to his.

“Josh?” I whispered, afraid to ruin this moment.

“I promise we can talk about this is the morning, sweetheart. Please just let me hold you tonight.” He sounded tired. I complied with his request, wrapping my hand around the forearm resting against my stomach, and it wasn’t long before my eyes grew too heavy to keep open any longer.

#josh anderson #josh anderson imagine #boone jenner #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

[valkyrieofthehighfae]

Chapter 4

Warnings: Brief smut, mentions of needles. 18+ only y’all!

Word Count: 3.9k Join my taglist here Tagging: @mcu-padawan​ Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 I used the song “Bad Girl” by Avril Lavigne for V’s song of choice!

Sunlight streamed into my room, the brightness making me groan in disgust and pain, rolling over to bury my face in my pillows, cursing tiredly into the soft, cushy material. The beeping of my comm from across the room drew another curse from my lips and I sat up, my hair falling into my face, and I practically crawled out of bed to get the damn thing.

“Hello?” I croaked, throat scratchy and dry.

“Oh, you’re alive. I thought you might have died in an alley somewhere considering you never showed up last night.”

Oh shit. I had forgotten that I was supposed to go to the Crypt last night after drinks with the gang. I closed my eyes and swallowed thickly, wincing at the annoyance in Grave’s voice.

“Sorry, I lost track of time last night. I don’t even remember getting home.” I muttered, taking my comm with me to the ‘fresher so I could get some water and pee.

“You better be here tonight, Baby Doll. If you’re not, we’re gonna have problems.” Grave growled before disconnecting the transmission. I was too hungover for this shit and just wanted to crawl back into bed, feeling like death, when I caught something written on my arm. It was Crosshairs’ private comm channel and I felt my cheeks warm up again as I looked it over with a slight smile. I needed to write it down on paper so I could shower and try to feel less… death like.

“Astrid, you up?” Koyi croaked, shuffling into the room, bleary eyed and still in her bodycon dress from last night.

“Morning.” I yawned and took a drink of nice, cold water, passing the cup over to her.

“Who dared call this early? Your comm woke me up from my place on the floor by your couch.” She groaned, going for my shower.

“Take a wild guess.” I grumbled, taking a seat on the nice, cool floor of my refresher. Koyi groaned angrily at the mention of Grave, pulling a face. “I was supposed to be at the Crypt last night and I got so caught up with Crosshair that I lost track of time. And, uh, apparently how we got home because I don’t remember that shit at all. But yeah, he’s mad that I didn’t show last night and said I better be there tonight.” I grumbled while laying down on the floor, pressing my cheek to the cold marble.

“Ugh I hate Grave so much.” Koyi groaned from my shower, the sound of the water hitting the shower door enough to make my head throb.

“Right now? So do I. And I hate the shower, the water hurts my head.” I closed my eyes, wishing my head would quit pounding.

“You’re a medic, don’t you have some banana bags on hand?”

I shot up far too quickly at her words: she was right, I actually did keep a stash of IV supplies here just in case of stuff like this. I just had to find the will and motivation to get up and actually get them. I felt like a dumbass for not remembering that sooner, that would be the perfect pick me up for this nightmarish hangover. With a moan of discomfort, I pushed myself up to my feet and trudged off to go get them, waiting for Koyi to hurry up and get out of the shower so I could hook her up.

Twenty minutes later, we were dressed and headed to this little pizza joint near Koyi’s tattoo parlor, dying for a good slice of pizza to help chase away the last dregs of this hangover that the banana bag didn’t touch. My stomach was growling loudly at the thought of getting something good to eat, making Koyi start laughing as we walked in through the doors.

“Oops. My bad. Guess I’m more hungry than I thought I was.” I laughed as well, wincing a little, mortified by just how loud it was. We snagged an open table in the back corner, our usual waiter already putting in our order for us.

“So are you gonna comm that cute guy you were with last night?” Koyi plucked a breadstick from the basket and took a bite.

“Crosshair? I dunno… I’m in a relationship. I shouldn’t have even flirted or danced with him last night.” I grabbed a breadstick as well, but pulled at it instead, chewing on my lip.

“He was really into you! I’m telling you, you need to break up with Grave and give this guy a shot! He’d treat you a lot better than Grave does.” Koyi pointed out smugly and took a sip of her drink.

“Oh please, he was just hoping for an easy hookup. Look, I know how you feel about Grave, and I’m sorry you guys don’t like each other, but that’s who I’m dating. End of story.” I snapped, finally growing tired of her nagging at me about Grave.

“Okay. Sorry. I won’t bring it up again.” Koyi gave me a wounded look, frowning deeply at my harshness.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -”

“Whatever, you’re right. You’re gonna do what you’re gonna do, and you’re gonna date whoever you’re gonna date,” She got up and went over to Stetson, asking for her food to be brought over to her parlor. “I’ll see you later, Valkyrie. Let me know when you’ve pulled your head out of your ass.” She walked out in a huff and I sighed. She was really mad if she was calling me Valkyrie instead of Astrid.

“Everything okay with you and Koyi? I never see you guys fight, like ever.” Stetson asked, setting my order down and dropped into the empty seat across from me.

“Yeah, I guess.” I looked down at the pizza, not hungry anymore.

“Is it about Grave again? Cuz that’s the only time I see you guys ever get tense with each other.” He leaned forward, brows knit together slightly, worry on his face.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is. I know she’s concerned, I’m not trying to downplay that, it just gets old hearing it all the time when I’m home on leave. When I’m home, I don’t want to get a talking to about who I’m dating. I hear it from Ivar, who thinks Grave and I aren’t even together anymore and is constantly trying to set me up with guys, and Koyi, who makes jabs and other comments.” I forced myself to eat something so I wasn’t overly grumpy later when I went to the Crypt to see Grave. Stetson squeezed my shoulder kindly before getting up to run over Koyi’s order to her, leaving me in the main part of the parlor with my thoughts. Koyi was right, Grave wasn’t exactly boyfriend material; he never reciprocated when I told him I loved him, he would always change the subject or distract me with other things. And I swore he had something going on with the new girl, Candy, but I didn’t have any definitive proof and I trusted him, so maybe it was just me being jealous.

Ugh I should just… end things. Get it over with already. I sighed heavily, setting the half eaten slice of pizza down on my plate. This was just ridiculous, what was I doing with my life? Leading two different lives was utterly exhausting and I wasn’t sure I could keep up with it anymore, I was going to have to pick eventually and as much as I loved dancing, I would pick my boys in the 501st any day over being a dancer. I’d come to really love these guys dearly already and had been accepted into their little family.

I let out a soft grunt of annoyance when my comm lit up and hit the flashing button to answer it, trying not to sound annoyed when Fives and Hardcase’s voices immediately launched into talking about something about karaoke night.

“Okay, hold on, one at a time, I don’t speak gibberish.” I finally barked, gritting my teeth when a couple of the other customers shot me an irate look.

“It’s karaoke night at the 79’s tonight! Are you coming?” That was Hardcase speaking up.

“No? I have plans that I missed last night cuz I was too busy drinking with you lunatics. Besides, you know I don’t sing.” I lied through my teeth about the singing. I could sing like no one could believe but I got stage fright when it came down to it. Singing in front of people was one of my biggest nightmares.

“Oh come on Valks! Come join us!” Fives pleaded and I could just picture him pouting.

“Not tonight, okay? I’ve gotta roll. I’ll see you guys later.” I disconnected the comm and got up so I could head out to the Crypt. “Later Stets! Left your tip on the table.”

                                                           ~*~*~

  The Crypt was supposed to be like home, but walking in those doors, I sure didn’t feel like I was coming home. I felt as if I were walking into a tomb, the dark and dreary feeling weighing on my shoulders. Something wasn’t right, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. Some of the other girls were sitting at the bar, pity flashing across their faces for a brief moment before looking away from me, focusing their attention anywhere else but on me as I walked past them. I could feel my stomach clench with nerves, my palms sweating as I slowly made my way to the room Grave and I would share while I was here on leave. Soft moans and the wet slap of skin on skin left me feeling ill as I reached out with a trembling hand to open the door, seeing Grave fucking the new girl. I didn’t make a sound, just shut the door and went to the dressing room, throwing my crap into a bag.

“Baby Doll?”

I didn’t even have to look back to know Daisy was hovering nearby, her face drawn and worried like it usually was when she was uneasy. “I’m fine Daisy. I already had a feeling something was going on, I was just trying to deny it. Good luck. I fucking quit.” I zipped my bag up and hitched it over my shoulder. My gut feeling was right, Koyi was right, Stetson and Ivar were right... and I was a fuckin’ dumb ass. “And you can tell that wastoid that I’m done.” I called to the other girls who were trying to act like they weren’t listening in over at the bar and walked out. I couldn’t fucking believe that I had gotten played like this. I mean, I could believe it, but at the same time, I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it. Tears burned in my eyes as I hopped into my speeder and headed back to my apartment to dump off this crap and so I could get ready for karaoke night after all.

“Koyi? You were right. I’m sorry. I caught him fucking the new girl, so I quit. I’m going home to change and then I’m heading to the 79’s for karaoke night cuz why the fuck not?” I breezed through my front door, locking it behind me and threw my bag of clothes from the Crypt across my living room, nailing the wall with a dull thud. He wanted to break my heart, then I was going to dress up and go have some fun tonight because I fucking earned it after putting up with so much these past few years.

Stupid son of a bitch. I hope his cock shrivels up and falls off. I stood there in my closet, staring hard at all of my clothes, trying to decide on an outfit. I wanted something easy to move in but still showed off every single curve I had. If Grave decided to show his face tonight, I was going to make sure he regretted ever using me and discarding me like trash. Now I just had to find the right outfit. Nothing was catching my eye so far, though. A flash of red drew my attention towards it and I smiled when I plucked the cute bright red mini dress off the rack and settled on that and a pair of strappy red heels to match. I grinned happily and quickly did my hair, giving myself some loose curls and studied myself closely. Everything looked perfect and I couldn’t wait to show off.

Perfect, I think I’m ready. I grabbed my leather jacket and took off, wanting to surprise Fives and the others since I’d said I had plans. Eyes followed me as I walked out of my apartment building and flagged a speeder down so I could get to the 79’s, smiling sweetly at the driver.

“Thanks for the lift doll.” I purred when we arrived, tipping him and blowing him a kiss.

“Damn, you’re not playing around tonight, huh?” Koyi was grinning widely as she practically skipped up to me.

“Nope, I’m definitely not playing around. I’m gonna have fun and I might even bring someone home with me tonight.” I chirped, smiling at some of the clones we passed, all of them whistling in appreciation. Koyi and I broke out into giggles as we entered the bar, weaving through clones and other civvies to get to the bar for drinks.

“Hey! Could we get four shots of Trandoshan tequila? Thanks!” I took the shots and passed two of them over to Koyi, toasting my best friend before downing them in rapid succession. “I think I’m gonna sign up to do karaoke tonight.” I glanced over at Koyi, reaching for the stylus so I could jot my name down, Koyi squealing with delight.

“You’re going to actually sing? You? In public! Oh I have to record this!” She was giddy at the thought and ordered us a couple more drinks so we could take them with us to find the 501st guys. Koyi spotted them first and tugged me with her as we weaved through the crowd, Fives and Echo immediately shutting up when they saw us.

“Holy -”

“Valkyrie?!” Jesse and Rex’s jaws dropped in shock, Cody smirking as he looked me up and down with interest. Two other clones I vaguely recognized nudged a couple other guys, nodding our way and I blew them a kiss, grinning.

“Hey guys. Plans fell through so I figured we’d join you.” I chirped, allowing Cody to pull me onto his lap, his arm warm around my waist. I draped an arm around his neck, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck with a playful smile tugging at my lips as he leaned back into my touch with a soft groan.

“And she’s gonna sing!” Koyi crowed, practically dancing in Echo’s lap. I rolled my eyes but smiled when the guys cheered excitedly. I’d always been teased for my humming when I worked, Kix always asking if they’d ever get to hear me actually sing, and tonight looked like it was gonna be the night.

“We’re allowed to record that, right? Cuz I am gonna wanna remember this night. Plus Kix is gonna be bummed he missed seeing it in person.” Fives joked with a loud laugh. As I opened my mouth to retort, my name was called to go up and sing my heart out. I slammed my drink back and got to my feet, my legs shaking as I made my way up there, hands trembling as I took hold of the mic. I swallowed thickly, forcing a smile onto my face as the music began and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

“Hey, hey I'll let you walk all over me, me. You know that I’m a little tease, tease, but I want it pretty please, please. You know, you know, you know I’m crazy. I just wanna be your baby. You can fuck me, you can play me. You can love me or you can hate me. Miss me, miss me, now you wanna kiss me,” I began to really get into the song, swaying my hips and dancing along to the beat. “Choke me, 'cause I said so. Stroke me, and feed my ego. I’ve been a bad girl, don’t you know? Come get it, now or never. I’ll let you do whatever. I’ll be your bad girl, here we go.  Miss me, miss me, now you wanna kiss me.” I had all eyes on me, people dancing along and cheering, Fives and the others the loudest of all my admirer’s. I could feel my cheeks heating up at the applause and focused my gaze on Rex, who was watching with an intensity that had my stomach clenching with desire. He took a sip of his drink, smirking just slightly, and leaned over to say something to Cody, who nodded in response, his eyes never leaving me.

“Baby, you know I want a little taste, taste. So let me take you all the way, way. You know you’ll never be the same, same. One night, you won’t forget the rest of your life, so come on over to the wild side. Buckle up, and baby, hold on tight. Miss me, miss me, now you wanna kiss me. We both know that you love me 'cause I'm so bad. Choke me, 'cause I said so. Stroke me, and feed my ego. I’ve been a bad girl, don’t you know? Come get it, now or never. I’ll let you do whatever. I’ll be your bad girl, here we go.  Miss me, miss me, now you wanna kiss me.” I was looking right at the two, putting on a show just for them. It was as if everyone else had faded from the room, I was so focused on Rex and Cody. “I've been a bad girl. I've been a bad girl. I'll be your bad girl. I'll be your bad girl. I've been a bad girl. I've been a bad girl. I'll be your bad girl. A fucking bad girl! Choke me, 'cause I said so. Stroke me, and feed my ego. I’ve been a bad girl, don’t you know? Come get it, now or never. I’ll let you do whatever. I’ll be your bad girl, here we go.”  The sound of applause brought me back into focus, realizing I’d finished the song. I quickly walked out of there, my heart pounding against my chest with adrenaline and glee.

“Hey! You killed it up there!” Koyi found me and dragged me back over to the group. “I recorded it. Sorry not sorry, you are amazing and should be heard by the world.”

“Of course you did. Could you not share it, please?” I grumbled, shooting her a look.

“Too late, she’s already sent it to us.” Fives cut in with a smug grin. “I’m gonna listen to this all the time. Seriously, how could you hide those pipes from the rest of us?”

“It’s not that big of a deal. Drop it already.” I groused, tossing a crumpled up napkin at him. “I’m gonna go get a drink.” With a muttered curse, I went to go to the bar when Rex dropped a hand on my shoulder.

“I’ll go with you. I could use a new drink myself.” He chimed in, moving his hand to my lower back, gently pushing me through the crowd towards the bar. “You really do have a nice voice. It’d be nice to hear it more often.”

“Thank you, Captain. I, uh, usually don’t sing in front of other people. I get nervous and then clam up. Generally I have to have a little liquid courage in my veins first.” I chuckled, taking a seat at the bar. “You and Commander Cody seemed rather… invested in the song. Did I spark some interest?” I teased him, half hoping that maybe I had caught their attention. I could get behind the idea of a threesome with Rex and Cody, it would certainly be quite the ride.

“Baby Doll, there you are!”

My back stiffened up at the sound of Grave’s voice behind me, his hands going to my shoulders and I jerked away from him, getting up and stepping beside Rex, putting as much distance between us as I could.

“We’re done, Grave. I don’t know why you’re here, but I don’t want anything to do with you.” I snapped, yanking my arm back when he reached for it.

“You heard my medic, leave her alone.” Rex got to his feet, setting his whiskey glass down. “She doesn’t owe you shit and you have no business harassing her, so step off. Now.” There was a growl to his voice that sent a jolt of white hot fire down the length of my back and into the pit of my stomach, pulsing down between my thighs.

“This doesn’t involve you, clone. This is between me and her.” Grave spat, not even looking at Rex as he spoke. “Baby Doll, c’mon, come back with me. I need you, babe.” He was pleading now, begging me to come back to the Crypt.

“No. I have nothing to say to you. I’m done, I’ve been done. Fuck off, Grave.” I slapped his hand aside, lip curling into a sneer.

“You stupid slut, should have known those rumors were true.” He snarled with venom dripping from his words. Next thing I knew, Rex was slamming a fist right into Grave’s mouth, sending him stumbling back into Cody, who had come up to see what was taking us so long. Cody immediately had Grave by the scruff of his shirt and tossed him aside with a snarl, glaring daggers at Grave.

“Hey, whoa, no! He’s not worth it!” I quickly stepped in, resting a hand on Cody and Rex’s biceps, not wanting them to start any fights. “Come on, let’s just go back to the others.” I pulled my lip between my teeth, looking back and forth between the commander and my captain anxiously.

“Come near her again and I’ll break your jaw.” Rex warned him before grabbing his whiskey and my hand, leading us back to where the others were. Koyi and Echo were nowhere to be found while the others continued to crack jokes and drink, Hardcase getting up to go sing while Fives and Jesse laughed about his enthusiasm, cheering their brother on. Rex pulled me into his lap, arms wrapping around my waist, holding me to him somewhat tightly and pressed his lips to the nape of my neck in a fleeting kiss.

“Where’d Koyi go?” I called over to Fives with a slightly puzzled look.

“Her place with Echo.”

“Oh. Oh! Oh. Damn, get it girl.” I shook my head, laughing when I realized what he meant. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m gonna head home, too. It’s been a long night and I have some better alcohol at home I want to get into. See you guys around.” I carefully detached myself from Rex’s lap, shooting him a smile. “Hey, no bar fights okay? Just leave Grave alone if you see him hanging around.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Cody offered quickly, getting to his feet with a nod to his guys. “I’d feel better knowing you got home safely just in case.”

“That’s sweet of you, thank you Commander.” I took his offered arm and bid farewell to everyone else.

“I’ll tag along. It’s on the way to the barracks and I’ve got some paperwork I should finish up.” Rex polished off his drink and fell in step with Cody and I, the two of them keeping an eye out for Grave as we left the bar.

#Kat writes #alcohol tw #18+ please #Fives x OC #Fives x Valkyrie #eventual friends to lovers

[johnmarstoned]

Request for shameless smut but fluff with Arthur and a fem!reader? Like she comes back to camp after a mission and he just takes her away so he can have full privacy and do whatever they want? I'm a thirsty bitch sorry 😅

My blog is a safe space for thirsty bitches, trust me. 

(and jesus christ i’m sorry i’m allergic to being like… brief… i always get carried away)

There’s nothing like riding back into camp with a sack full of money on the back of your horse, getting cheered by the camp and a pat on the head from Dutch.

It had been my mission, hitting a caravan of a few coaches heading from Saint Denis to Rhodes and carrying a bunch of rich folk in them, and it had gone smooth as can be. I’m red faced, excited and still pumping with adrenaline when I arrive back with Lenny, Sean and John, still surprised we’d made such a good team, being the young ones of the group. It had been quite a take, and no one had got too badly hurt, either.

But it had meant a few days away from camp, staking out the route and the people they’d be robbing, spending a little time in Saint Denis and a little camped out in the Bayou (which I truly hated and will not do again for a million dollars).

So we ride back into Clemens Point that evening triumphant and pleased with ourselves.

“That is what I like to see.” Dutch claps my back when I drop off his share of the cash at his tent, and I smile and appreciate the kudos I get from the rest of the gang too. “Calls for a celebration, don’t you think? Mr Pearson! Hand round some bottles of whiskey, would you?”

“Of course!” He calls.

“Molly, put a record on, my dear.” He instructs, and my eyes are already scanning the group for the only person whose attention I really want, not spotting him.

“You gotta bring me along next time.” Karen catches me by the arm and presses a bottle into my hands. “Sounds like fun, and I lord knows I wouldn’t mind that kinda cash.”

“Sure, Karen, have you seen-”

“Did you see that fuckin’ toff try and get me mouth when I told him to empty his pockets?” Sean puts his arm over my shoulder, still hyped up, and guides me over to the fire with him where people are already singing and chugging. “Gave him a right ol’ bust lip, I did.”

“I saw it, Sean.” I say, slightly impatient, because why hasn’t he come to see me yet? I stand on my tiptoes and try to look over to his tent.

“Arthur’s up the way a bit fishin’.” Abigail holds my elbow to catch my attention, and I sigh and smile gratefully at her knowing expression.

“Thank you.” I say and squeeze her arm. “Was starting to think he’d lost interest.”

“Oh, never.” Abigail chuckles. “He won’t be best happy he wasn’t here to welcome you back.”

Relieved, I slip away from the merriment to where I know he’ll be, just outside of camp down by the shore. It’s best to fish at this time of the evening, and I know he does it when I’m out on the job, keeps him calm, he says.

I spot him just ahead of me quickly, back to me, broad shouldered and tall, horse beside him, and I take a little breath, because it’s always so sweet to come back to him.

“Caught anything?” I ask, and sidle up to him, he turns when he hears my voice, and I see his chest fall in a breath that looks like relief.

“Someone was supposed to come get me when you got back.” He says, and spools up his fishing rod, closing it and replacing it in his pack.

“Well, I’m back.” I shrug as he approaches me, and he puts his hands on my shoulders before he’ll hold me properly, giving me a once over.

“It all go okay?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Anyone die?”

“No.”

“You hurt?”

“Not a scratch.”

It’s the same conversation, the same routine every time I get done with a mission.

“There’s blood on ya.” He swipes his thumb across my chin, and I remember I had felt a little fleck there before.

“Not mine.” I shrug. “Mouthy bastard didn’t wanna part with his pocket watch.”

He smiles at me a little then, his eyes crinkle with it, and he takes my waist and kisses me good and thorough, and I sigh into his mouth and hold his arms. “That’s my girl.” He murmurs against my lips.

I never get tired of hearing him say that.

“Missed you.” I tell him, holding him tight as he loops his arms around my waist and pulls me to him so he can bury his face in my neck and press little kisses there. He’s soft, for one so big and tough, and I can’t help but smile knowing I’m the only one that gets to see that.

“Missed you too, sweetheart, somethin’ awful.”

I can’t help but tease him. “That why I can feel something other than your cattleman poking at me?”

He huffs out a little chuckle against my neck and pulls back to look at me.

“S’been a while, for us, anyway.”

“I know, trust me.” And it has, I’m already feeling starved of his body on me and in me. “Let’s go back to my tent, there’s a party but we can be quiet.” I take his hand and tug him away from the shore, but he doesn’t move, pulling me back.

“Don’t wanna be quiet.” He says simply, looking at me in that way that makes me shiver.

“Me neither, but we don’t have much of a choice.”

He looks at me for a moment like he’s considering something, then up at his horse.

“You got another ride in you?”

I cock my head, wondering what he’s getting at.

“Depends where to.”

“Saint Denis.” He says, and pulls me a little closer to him again. “That fancy ol’ room above the saloon with proper silk sheets, specifically.”

I shudder to think of it, four walls and a roof, a locked door, a big bed, with Arthur.

“Oh, I’m sure I can manage that ride.”

And he wastes no time getting up on his horse and helping me on behind him, and I giggle at the fast pace he sets, booking it through the more unsettling parts of the swamps given that it’s getting dark. I just hold onto his sides, and let myself feel hot with anticipation at what’s about to happen.

It’s completely night by the time we get into the city and inside the saloon, so it’s busy, lively, and boozy, and nobody really looks twice at me in my dirty trousers and battered shirt, sweating a little from the journey and eagerly waiting for Arthur to pay for the room.

Soon as that door closes, he has me up against it, kissing me deep and with tongue, this time, catching me round the backside to hitch my legs around his waist, so I can feel his erection pressing insistently against me.

Usually, I’d want a wash first, but it feels about right for me to be still a little dirty and sweaty, like I’m celebrating my victory in this post primal way I can, like some kind of warrior returning from battle.

Arthur’s strength never fails to turn me on so incredibly, holding me there with his thighs like I weigh nothing to him, and ripping open my shirt so buttons spray across the room so he can kiss and lick at my breasts like he hasn’t seen them so many times before. All I can do is moan delightedly, feeling a pulse between my legs, and hold onto his head.

“Goddamn beautiful.” He mumbles, and sets me down on my feet, to untuck my ruined shirt the rest of the way and get it off my arms. I take the initiative when he does, pulling off his neckerchief and unfastening his shirt buttons with haste so I can feel the skin of his stomach and chest. All thick muscle and boundless strength.

And I’m getting excited, and breathless, so I don’t bother pushing his shirt off, instead unsnapping the clips of his suspenders, and working on getting his trousers open so I can finally get my hand around that cock I’ve been thinking about for days. He hisses a breath through his teeth when I stroke him, and I watch is face close, tongue between my teeth, when I move my hand up and down on him.

“You might wanna stop that.” He says, voice rough as he gently catches my wrist and moves it away. “Ain’t gonna last long with you lookin’ at me like that.”

I smile to myself, ears humming already with excitement, and push his shoulder a little to get him to sit down on the bed. He smiles up at me from there, hands flexing on his knees, he watches me peel off my saddle pants, and my underthings, until I’m naked in front of him.

“You’re somethin’…” He says, and his hands round my ass and pull me to stand right in front of him. He presses kisses down my stomach and bends to kiss the hair between my legs too.

“I’m ready for you, Arthur.” I say, breathy, and he smirks up at me just a little, eyes sparkling in the candlelight, and reaches his hands between my legs to feel for himself, slipping a finger between my folds and finding me slick.

“God, that for me?” He asks it with a tone half teasing, half in genuine disbelief. I’ve never met a man more blind to his own beauty in my life.

“Always.” I bend down to pull off his boots for him, his hands running over my body wherever they can reach, and then his pants follow, which I drop on the ground with the rest of our clothes. When he’s finally naked, I sit on his broad thighs and kiss him again, never wanting to detach from his mouth.

He lays me down on the bed, head on the pillow, and I can’t believe how soft and luscious the sheets feel against my skin, especially compared to the wools and furs we usually sleep under.

“I missed you on top of me.” I sigh and hitch a leg around his hip. “Wish you could be inside of me all the time.”

“Christ.” Arthur groans at that, and positions the tip of his cock at my entrance. I can feel it slick and weeping already, and he plants his elbows under my armpits and lets me hold onto his thick biceps before he pushes inside me, all the way to the hilt.

“Ah! Mmm, yes, Arthur.” I whimper, feeling so hot and fulfilled and relieved to have him fill me up.

It makes me reconsider everything, when we do this, when he moans aloud and furrows his brow as he pushes in and out of me, makes me think I could be a wife and a mother, and take care of a homestead, as long as I had him coming home and doing this to me every night, as long as I had him smiling at me and calling me his girl.

My fingers dig into his skin as he fucks me, both vocalising our enjoyment as much as we want without fear of one of the gang wolf-whistling and shaking the canvas. The bed is creaking under the motion, the sound of skin hitting skin cuts through the room, and my noises of pleasure reach a fever pitch when he puts a hand on the headboard and cants my hips up further so he can pound into me as hard as he can.

“Ohhh, goddamn, Arthur.” My eyes shut, and I hear him make a grunt of effort.

“You feel like a dream.” He murmurs, his voice rumbles through me. “Feel like nothin’ else, sweetheart.”

I can’t vocalise a response, because one of his hands holding my hips moves down so he can thumb my clit as he moves inside of me, and that’s it, I’m done. With an almost shout, my back bows and my orgasm rattles through me suddenly, electrifyingly, making my heel dig into his thigh and my nails scratch his arm.

“Arthur…” I whimper, riding it out, and wriggling while his hands hold me still and he doesn’t let up his pace, sounding like he’s enjoying it as much as I am.

“Yes, just like that, girl.” And that term of endearment shakes me again, gasping as I open my eyes to watch him duck his head, that expression on his face that tells me he’s going to come soon.

“Give it to me, Arthur.” I hold his face and pull him down to kiss me, pushing my tongue into his mouth. “I love you so much.”

And that does it, he makes a rough noise that comes from his chest, and pushes inside me deep when he comes. He kisses me desperately, and his hips move just a little as he gives me everything he has and the muscles of his stomach jump with it. I hold him tight to me through it, feeling the bone deep desire to have him fill me with his spend, knowing it’s foolish when we live like we do.

“Shit.” He curses when it’s finally over, panting against me and dropping his weight onto me a little. And lord, he’s heavy.

It’s nice though, the press of his sweaty skin against mine and even the feel of him softening inside me before he pulls out with a hitched breath and drops onto his back.

Bones feeling like jelly, I finally close my knees and curl up to his side, resting my chin on his chest. He pulls me up to him and holds my lower back, fingers drawing little circles there. I’m still pulsing with aftershocks between my legs, and I can’t help but look at his cock, big and thick, half hard, resting on his stomach. He is something else. 

“We don’t have to go back to camp yet, do we?” I ask, and peck his skin.

“Paid for the night.” He says, still stroking me languidly. “Plan to get our money’s worth.”

“Good.” I smile, and reluctantly slip away from him. “I’m gonna have to ask one of the working girls to draw me a bath though, before I do anything else.”

He nods, and watches me slip off the bed and stretch out my arms, taking in my body.

“Love you too, by the way.” He refers back to me saying it before, hand resting across his stomach and looking like he should be painted. “You know that.”

“I do.” I tell him, because he never lets me doubt it for a second.

#Anonymous #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fluff #smut #fic #request #rdr2 fic #when i say smut i mean smut #i enjoyed writing this like too much

[clarencejc]

Choices to Make (Part 1)

Summary: April Hudson, a biologist studying animals and neighbor of the Cullen's, notices something wrong one day on her wilderness cameras which leads to her life being changed forever. Curiosity killed the cat.

(No pairing) Please like and comment, but remember to give me credit for my story!

Fall 2008

            It was another rainy day in Forks as I drove back to my house after work, my red Ford hatchback quietly sloshing down the wet roads with the windshield wipers set at a quick pace. My name is April Hudson, twenty-one-year-old garden business associate and wildlife watcher with a completed degree in biology and still living with my parents. Was, at least. 

           My parents had to move further south for their twin jobs leaving me alone upstate after graduation with their small house in the middle of freaking nowhere. I loved the rain of Washington until I had to leave and come back and get reacclimated to the weather.

            I was fine with the arrangement where they would periodically check in on me but most of their time is dedicated to their work. The only real neighbors I have are the Cullen’s but they’re nearly five miles away from, now my, little cottage, so there is almost no way to really call them neighbors. 

           The most I’ve ever seen of them is passing by them in their cars and even that was too short. They were all introduced once when my family moved in but that was only once and since then I only see them when they need to stop in for flowers or ferns for their home.

           As I pull up to the cottage, the light from the bathroom is still on from the morning. “Damnit,” I sigh heavily. ‘Always forgetting to turn that one off’ I berate myself silently in the confines of my warm car. 

           I grab my beat-up leather work bag in one hand and jog inside to avoid being more wet and cold than usual. ‘It’s the last thing I need.’

           “Hello, my little Mitten,” I greet my sweet little tabby cat with a smile. I’m greeted back with a small ‘mew’ before chuckling to myself and feeling the soft fur under my fingertips. Stripping off my clothes and getting rid of my bra, I finally feel free and alone in the quiet house.

            I don't feel like I'm the prettiest girl in the world with my large hips and thick thighs along with this dry skin in such a moist environment, but it’s my house to do what I please in it. I run my fingers through my shoulder-length hair as I let it out of its ponytail when a sound catches my attention.

          ‘Chirp! chirp! chirp! chirp!’ “What could that be my love?” I whisper lovingly partially to myself but mainly to Mittens as I walk to my computer where the noise is originating from. 

           I took up my parent's love of nature a while ago and hung up trail cameras to capture animals big or small traveling across the property, but there hasn’t been a ping in a while. Until now.

           The computer’s white light fills the room as it wakes up whirring and as I click my way through the files, petting Mittens rhythmically, while the start of the video plays like usual with the wildlife until there’s something that’s not so normal. The big buck walks through the woods, like usual, and then there, right after the third second, the deer is gone. There and then gone just like that. A whole deer gone without a trace.

           “What the hell?” I ask myself and I play it back nearly ten times before not being able to find anything wrong with the tape to indicate a glitch. “I guess I’ll look at the next one,” I say warily. My internal radar for weird stuff is slowly beginning to rise like a pressure gauge from the green zone to the yellow and the hairs stand up on the back of my neck as I start to feel not so alone.

           The next camera I pull up is deeper in the woods near the middle of where the property is. A few seconds in there is a man beginning to dig a hole without any sort of digging equipment until there is a hole with the dimensions of a shallow grave, the deer is thrown in as though it weighs no more than a small sack of flour, and then the weirdest part occurs: The guy takes off his shirt, tosses it in with the deer, and then fills the grave back up again.

           ‘I know that shirt, I know that shirt’ I repeat before it clicks; ‘It’s the hair.’ The mop of blonde hair in the video is the same as the mop I drive by every so often; Jasper Cullen. It all comes together as I remember him coming in with Alice to get flowers wearing a light colored button up dress shirt.

           “No fuckin’ way.” I rewind it and hit play again only to watch the same thing happen without fault. “Oh my god.” I don't know whether to watch the video again or to throw up my dinner from earlier. “Oh shit!” I cry out, startling Mittens off of my lap, and standing up abruptly enough to knock my chair back onto the ground. ‘I have to tell someone—wait, I can’t tell anyone’ I realize with a start. “The Cullen’s.” My blood turns to ice and my fingers become cold.

           ‘I have to get the shirt’ I tell myself and if I want to get back before dark then I’d better get out there and start digging now. I give a kiss to Mittens, feed her, and put on all of my gear like mud boots, insulated rain jacket and finally grab a shovel from the shed. I don’t bother putting my bra back on because I’ve already taken it off so it’s too much of a trouble to put back on and there’s no need since, hopefully, I’m the only person in these woods tonight.

          Grabbing my headlamp in case, I start my walk out. It’s fairly short but the dig is difficult and plain annoying. The mud slips and sloshes around my boots as I try to dig the hole back out but after over an hour of straight digging, I finally get to it just around the four-foot mark. It doesn’t even look like he tried to hide the shirt separately as I tug it out of the narrow hole I’ve dug. I turn my headlamp on and turn around when something catches my eye.

          There’s another area of raised soil about ten feet away and another ten feet in the opposite direction. ‘This is a dumping ground’ I realize and that feeling of terror turns my blood to ice once again. I fill the hole in as quickly as I can and immediately head home, not daring to look in the other mounds for fear of what I might find if I do.

           I slam my door as I come in, not caring that I’m dripping wet as I tromp through my house. I sit on the bed and put the muddy and blood covered shirt on my coffee table and simply stare at it. ‘I have to tell them and then just forget about all of this’ I tell myself.

           I find a drawstring bag to put the battered dress shirt in, slipping it under my bed, and try to sleep. Try being the key word. There is so much adrenaline running through my body that every time I close my eyes I see Jasper throwing that deer in, bloodied and dirt covered, before simply running off. ‘You can’t stay quiet.’

           The next day is giving me a bad case of the nerves as I dresses in my nice black slacks and olive green blouse to meet the Cullen’s, well mainly either Carlisle or Esme seeing as all of their kids freak me out with how they stare, but I’m uninvited anyway, so there’s that problem. I decide to go at noon so that the rest of the family might not be there, especially Jasper.

           With the CD with the copied video and the bag with the shirt in hand, I set out on the drive. As I get closer, more nerves collect in my chest making me breathe heavy and tremble at what they might say. I mean who knows, their son could be the beginnings of a serial killer and they could very well know about it and let me get killed too. The thought makes me slow down for a second before getting back up to normal speed.

           My heart is beating out of my chest as I turn down their rock driveway and, after another thirty-second delay, I’m finally sitting there in front of their monumental house. “You can do this. It’s really easy, you’ve got this,” I whisper to myself as I grip the steering wheel tight enough to turn my knuckles white.

          ‘Stay calm and just be cool’ I think slowly as I try to slow my breathing. I walk up the clean steps and my hand trembles fiercely as I lightly knock on the frame of the door to avoid potentially damaging or even smudging the glass.

            I see Esme walk toward the door, seeing as the whole house is nearly made of glass, and try to make my face look less like I’m going to throw up all over her. 

           “Hello April,” she greets and her voice sounds like music to my ears. I try not to get distracted by her looks but dear god she is beautiful. Literally, everything is perfect about her. “What brings you here?” 

            I find my heart rate rising even more at her being polite but if she knows why I’m here then she’s doing a damn good job at covering it up.

           “I’m sorry to bother you today,” I start and she smiles warmly but it doesn’t help my nerves. “Well, um, I wanted t-t-to, uh, tell you something but I didn’t want to freak you out,” I stammer. ‘Get it together’ I yell mentally. “I have something to show you if you’ll let me, Mrs. Cullen,” I tell her politely back and hold up the CD.

           “And what is in the bag?” she wonders with a pinched brow and tilted head. When it releases its tension there’s not even a crease in her skin, but I blink away the errant thought.

           “That also goes with the video,” I tell her slowly. “If I may. . .?” I ask with a small gesture to enter their house and she lets me into the entryway. “Do you have a CD player or a computer I could play this on for you?” She nods her head and leads me into their house where we end up in a room with a computer and shelves and shelves of books.

            With shaky hands, I start to take the CD out of the case and I think I should tell her a little before I spring on her that her son could be a serial killer or a poacher at best. “So I don’t know if you know this but my parents got me wilderness cameras while I was studying for my degree and that I have them in the trees around my property, um, and I got a ‘ping’ last night. Uh,” I pause as I try to get my tremors under control, “so I looked at it and I thought you should be the first to know what I found,” I end in a whisper so quiet I don’t know if she heard me. I glance at her to find her looking back at me with worried eyes.

            I stand from the seat and offer it to her in case she needs to sit after watching something so unbelievable. I pull up the file and click the play button. The video of the disappearing deer and then Jasper digging the hole plays on a loop and I watch her expression change from surprise, to worry, back to a stony one that gives nothing away. 

             She knows exactly why I’m here. She brings her perfect hand to the mouse, clicks the stop button, and then looks at the bag I’m still holding in a death grip from my nerves. She goes to say something but I stop her before she can start with a slight hand motion and a look.

           “And I don’t know if it was the best idea to do but I dug up the shirt because I want nothing to do with this and I don’t want it anywhere near my home,” I whisper and widen my eyes slightly to see if my point gets across, but I decide it’s better to say it anyway. 

           “I found two more mounds of dirt near this one, so I don’t care, and I won’t even ask what he is doing, or what you’re doing, but stop burying dead animals in my backyard,” I tell her severely.

            She looks me in the eyes and then nods her head once. I let out a nervous breath. ‘Thank god.’ “I’m going to head home then. Here,” I hand her the bag with the shirt and then start to walk toward the door, resisting the urge to sprint. Everything inside of me is screaming for me to get the hell out of here.

            She opens the front door for me and I leave without another word and don’t glance back as I walk to my car. The entire time I feel as though I’m holding my breath and once I’m finally in my car I let it out. I start the car and leave as fast as I can while trying to not seem like I’m running away.

            The adrenaline is running rampant through me at this point and I’m shaking all over worse than a leaf in a storm. I let out one sob at the feeling as I finally reach my house. I hear a cacophony of meows and little cat screams surround me as I sit on the couch closest to the door and wrap a nearby blanket around me as tightly as I can. ‘What the fuck have I done?’ I ask myself softly.

#Twilight NoBella OriginalCharacterxTwilight