#they’d still find a way to fuck it up y’all

[1427]

something to prove pt 2

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV.  

Warnings: Very vaguely implied drug use, age-gap (reader is 20, Daryl is mid30s), smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (both m & f), hand stuff, squirting. 

Word Count: 2k

A/n: sorry this isn’t as spicy as the first one but. Idk. I also feel like y’all are gonna kill me if I don’t make a part that has Daryl actually get some. But. Idk.

17+ mdni

\\part 1\\

masterlist

You touch yourself in front of Daryl almost every time he comes over and your mom leaves the house. Finding him in the same spot, the remote on his knee, waiting for you. Head turned to the side as he chews at his thumb, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. His other knee anxiously bouncing. Sometimes he’s smoking, other times he’s not. 

You notice all of these things because you notice everything in those moments right before you play with yourself for him. Every time you’re alone in your room you’d wish you had the courage to actually talk to him. Maybe touch him? Anything. Everything about him made you burn. And yet you kept an aching distance. Three feet away, and on the floor. Never any closer. 

Eventually Daryl and Merle lose whatever living arrangements they’d had and your mom invites them to crash in the living room. 

This doesn’t change anything between you and Daryl. There’s more lingering stares exchanged but you still don’t really speak. Especially in front of your mom and Merle. They never seem to notice the tension that’s wrapped itself around the two of you, hanging in the air. This very dirty secret you and Daryl indulged in every time they leave. 

Luckily you didn’t share the space with them often. Only ever escaping your room to eat, leave the house, or put on a show for Daryl when they’d inevitably travel to the city every few days. 

You’ve been gearing yourself up to do something more, but what? It takes you a week to decide and then another week to actually work up the nerve to do it.

You wait for Daryl to fall asleep. For some reason you know if he watches you come down the stairs, observes you walking up to him, you’d end up wimping out. So you wait for him to be asleep, 3am should do it, and then you wait a little longer. 

With every step down the stairs your heart beats harder. You feel out of your body, just barely there as your feet make small but deliberate steps toward Daryl, asleep sitting up in the arm chair. Until suddenly you’re back in your body, standing over him. 

You use your leg to jostle against his, causing him to stir. Waiting until his sleepy eyes open and meet yours. Too late to back out now, basically on top of him. But you’re frozen in place, you can’t make your mouth say the words that you’d practiced a hundred times. The words screaming in your head. 

You’re both just staring at each other. Daryl’s obviously waiting for you to speak, or do something. But he doesn’t mind just staring at you. He doesn’t mind the waiting. After all, his favorite times are when you’re in front of him - and you’re in front of him now.

He doesn’t usually get to see this side of you. The front. Your face. The light of the TV is all blues and pinks and something inside Daryl swells. A warm gush of longing from his chest into his throat. Prickling at his skin. Not just longing to touch you, but something more. Something else. He doesn’t even want to speak, he’s enjoying just watching the colors dance across your cheeks and nose and the almost tangible warmth of the moment. 

You’re out of your body again, but you hear yourself say it, “Will you touch me this time?” 

Daryl’s been waiting for this. He’s thought about it so many times, in so many different ways. Wondering, seemingly ever free second of the day, when you were going to take it further. And how. He’s grateful that this is what you’d asked for, instead of maybe asking him to fuck you. He couldn’t do that. He could, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to. Doesn’t think he’d be able to even pull his cock out in front of you without passing away, and going to hell. 

He swallows and nods while still looking up at you. His eyes move along with his fingertips, his right hand grabbing your left wrist and moving you to sit back in his lap. 

You perch on him. Leaning back to place your feet on either one of his knees. Spreading your legs like this felt more lewd than you’d imagined it would, but because he’s behind you you’re not embarrassed by it, and you’re not shy about it. It snares something deep inside you, that even though your t-shirt is mostly covering your wet heat you're still so very out in the open. 

Daryl snakes one arm around your waist and the other between your legs, but he doesn’t touch you there yet. He wants to feel all the way up your leg from the knee. To see how much and how far you’d dripped down your thighs while you were standing there staring at him. 

His fingers get slick about halfway up your leg and it takes everything in him not to put them in his mouth immediately. He’s been dying to taste you since that day. The first one. You never wipe your hand on him like the first time and he wants you to so badly, every time. And every time his voice gets caught in his throat and he doesn’t. 

And now your sweet tangy mess was coating his fingertips. Your muscles are tense, the feeling of his digits slowly creeping closer to your center. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, “Please. Help.. me.” You whine, edging your hips forward just a little, using your feet to leverage. But the arm he has wrapped around your waist pulls you back flush against him. That’s when you feel him for the first time. Hard and digging into your ass cheek. A low groan escapes his lips, and he holds you even tighter. 

Daryl leans his forehead against the back of your shoulder, trying to pull himself together a little bit. You asked for his help, for him to touch you. But he’s so nervous, what if he does it wrong? He’s watched you so many times that even if he hadn’t known how to get a woman off before, he certainly knew how to get you off now. Still, he worries. Afraid he’s going to fuck it up. 

Finally, his middle finger slides down the center of your arousal. Running over your clit, down to your hole, and back. You can feel the nervousness in his touch, the anticipation that’d been building up in him for months. You whimper, looking down your body to watch his hand as it gets acquainted with your cunt. God, is this what you looked like when he watched you? Your pussy swollen with desire, sopping wet, and visibly trembling? It was so deliciously vulgar. 

His fingers slip around your folds, like yours do when you’re too wet like this. You whine, even though he’s touching you it’s not enough. Or, rather, it’s only making it worse without the pressure to accompany such touches. He gives up on trying to spread your lips to delicately and masterfully work your clit, the way he’s watched you do, and instead rubs your whole messy pussy with three of his fingers. Pressing against your mound hard. This elicits a deep groan from you, one that you can already feel building into a scream. Nothing you’ve ever experienced has felt like this.

He rubs around in the mess while you still watch from above. It doesn’t take long for your hips to start shaking uncontrollably. Whimpering and groaning you start to feel that hunger again. The insatiable one, needing something inside of you. He waits until you say, “P-please.” Your hips trying to move into his hand, but he keeps his grip on you so tight that your stuck in place. On his lap and at his mercy. 

Daryl wants to make you wait, wants to ask you to say please again. Wants to hear you beg in every language so that he’d have more words to remember falling out of your mouth like this. But he can’t control himself either. He’s been imagining what your walls would feel like contracting around his fingers for so long. It’s all he fuckin’ thinks about anymore. 

White hot. You feel his fingers all the way up to the knot in your throat and you choke on it. Each time he curls his two fingers, you feel it like a pang in your lungs, knocking the wind out of you. Daryl can’t stop, pressing into that spot of you, your breath hitching in your throat over and over. Your pussy clenches every time, he scissors his fingers as he pulls them out of you, to see those juicy lips stretch out around them. He needs more. Wants to fill you up until you burst. “More?” Is all he can manage to ask. 

You nod feverishly, your muscles moving against every pressure, your hips practically vibrating on top of him. Daryl swallows and readies a third finger, shoving all three thick digits into your greedy cunt without any hesitation. 

“Sh-shit.” You choke out, completely overwhelmed by the feeling. Daryl has to hold onto you so tightly, that one arm isn’t enough.  With three fingers deep inside you, he closes his palm tight to your mound and holds onto you like that. Like the inside of you is a handle he’s latched his fingers into to lock you on top of him. And the way your ass slides back over his cock is too much. He has to do it again. 

He rocks you back and forth. Pushing you down by your pelvic bone with him hooked inside you and over his clothed rage. It’s amazing. The way his palm pushes and rubs against your clit again and again, the way he’s moving your body against him. Pushing you and pulling over his hard cock by your cunt. He’s afraid maybe he’s hurting you, but your body tells him that he’s not. He’s never seen someone so let go from their inhibitions before. No one’s ever shown them this side of themselves for him. He loves it. 

You think you're about to orgasm, the sight alone is enough, but it doesn’t come. It just keeps building. Deep in your stomach, all the way up your spine. Down to your toes curling into his thighs. And it keeps building. You’ve never experienced something like this, it almost scares you. 

Daryl can tell that you’re close, every single muscle is strained against him. He’s using everything he’s got to keep you on his lap, his arm muscles taut and rigid around your writhing body. 

Your orgasm pushes out of you in a scream, your pussy gushing. Warm squirt jetting out from your body and all over Daryl’s hand. All over the floor. Your legs shake, your feet bouncing into the air and spasming completely out of control. 

He just holds you for a moment, his muscles still flexed around you. He keeps his fingers inside. Relishing in and memorizing each time your pussy pulsates around him, until it stops. Finally he loosens his grip and pulls away. 

The emptiness almost makes you want to cry, especially after such an orgasm. You’d never done that before. You didn’t know you could. You don’t want Daryl to see you cry, to get the wrong idea. Plus, what? Were you guys going to talk afterward? You never had before. No… it was over. And you had to go lest winding up a sobbing mess on the floor in front of him. On top of your own cum. 

So you leave him. Falling away from his body delicately. Feeling the cold air on your legs makes you feel even emptier. You still bounce away, jogging up the stairs like you always do. 

And Daryl watches you go, no wiser to the fact that you were somehow upset. Not upset, overwhelmed. Over sensitive. Over… everything. Every emotion was too much. 

His hand that’s covered in you has been hanging off the side of the arm chair, waiting for you to disappear. He’s been trying to decide if he wants to lick every drop from his hand while he jerks off with the other, or to use your juice as lubricant. He decides to do the former. Savoring every tangy morsel he can until there’s nothing left; even though he came when he was on the second finger. 

A/n: actually nah, there’s gonna be another part prob. 

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader

[teapartyprincess4two]

I’m begging you PLS make AT LEAST a part 2 for sturniolos older sister, I genuinely am so obsessed I’ve read it at least 5 times today. I need a series but- I’m a needy person so… PLS

Big Sister Pt. 2- Sturniolo Triplets

pairing: bigsister!reader x littlebrother!triplets

classification: fluff, sibling banter

warnings: use of y/n, slight cursing, VERY LONG

inspiration: request^^

summary: After visiting the triplets in L.A, the reader returns back home and works with her brothers to plan another get together. This time the triplets visit her, taking a trip down to the Lone Star State.

Big Sister PT.1, PT2, PT.3

—

“No, May doesn’t work for me. I’m still working in May, I won’t be on vacation until June,” you mumbled, scrolling relentlessly on your laptop in search of flights from L.A to Texas. The search seemed endless because you and your brothers couldn’t seem to coordinate schedules, all of you either being too busy with work or tied down to previous commitments. “Okay. So then we’ll go down in June,” Chris’s voice rang through the phone, stating it like it was an obvious solution.

Nick groaned at this statement, immediately thinking of how hot it would be in Texas during the summer, “it’s going to be so hot though!” He loved you, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to deal with the Texas heat for two entire weeks. Once Matt had heard Nick’s comment he interjected, “Stop being a baby, Nick. We’re going down in June.” You were only half listening to them, still scrolling away on your laptop trying to find 3 two-way tickets that wouldn’t completely drain your bank account.

In all honesty, you were surprised they’d even agreed to visit you. Usually it was you and Justin making the trip to L.A to visit them because they were always so busy. When you mentioned it to your husband Jack, he was equally as surprised but also extremely excited because he was never able to take enough time off work to accompany you on your trips to L.A.

“Fine. Y/n, we’re going down in June,” Nick said, defeat evident in his voice. He supposed he was just going to have to put up with the Texas heat because he could not find it in himself to argue with Matt or Chris right now. They awaited your response, but you were so immersed in the screen in front of you that you hadn’t heard a single thing they had said. ‘What the fuck are these prices?’ you thought, biting the inside of your cheek in determination to find the best tickets.

“Y/n! Are you still there?!” Chris shouted into the phone, the sound blaring loudly through your speaker. The sudden noise caught you off guard and caused you to jump in surprise, breaking you from your concentration. “What the hell are y’all blabbering about?!” You shouted back into the phone attempting to give them a taste of their own medicine.

Ever since you all were little, your brothers would always jump at the opportunity to tease and bully you. Sometimes it was funny, other times it was just annoying. Right now it was annoying.

“Y/n would be the type to say y’all,” Chris laughed, ignoring your question completely, opting to bully you instead. Even though they couldn’t see you, you rolled your eyes at his comment, preparing yourself for the onslaught of bullying that you were about to receive. Before you could even think of a snarky remark Matt joined in on the bullying as well.

“My name is y/n and I live in Texas y’all,” he put on a goofy country accent as he said this causing both Chris and Nick to fall into another fit of laughter. You could only imagine what stupid facial expression he was pulling on the other side of the phone.

“Shut up you fucking doofus,” you grumbled, only half mad because you were happy you finally found tickets at a reasonable price. Without a second thought you purchased the tickets, doing a quick victory dance. “Shut up you fucking doofus,” Matt mimicked you, still imitating his corny version of a country accent. If you were being honest, he was pretty good at it, but you’d never admit that.

“Yeah, shut your damn trap before I send you out to the barn, you fucking billy goat” Chris joined in, throwing in random phrases into his sentences as he attempted his own version of a country accent. The three of them were laughing so hard that they had to lean on each other for support as to not fall backwards.

Considering you’d already purchased the tickets, your work here was technically done and you could easily hang the phone up, leaving your goofy brothers to their stupid jokes. If you weren’t so excited, you probably would have done that and texted them the information later, but you decided to forgive their antics just to share the news, “Y’all, I bought the tickets!”

You didn’t catch yourself say it, but your brothers sure did, completely ignoring the exciting news you’d just shared. “Again with the ‘y’all!’ We get it! You live in Texas!” Matt groaned, earning yet another round of laughter from Nick and Chris.

“Oh my God, I actually can’t stand you guys right now,” you rubbed at your temples, wondering if you should just refund the tickets. How were you going to survive two entire weeks of this?

“At least you didn’t say y’all that time,” Nick said. You sighed and hung up.

—

For the next couple of weeks you and your husband, Jack, worked together to prepare your home for visitors. You made sure you had everything you needed in order to be considered a good host. Finally, summer rolled around and you and your husband were on your way to pick your brothers up from the airport. “Stop changing the station, I like that song!” You swatted his hand away from the radio, causing him to chuckle in response. Before he could retaliate, your phone rang.

Quickly you grabbed your purse and dug in it until you found your phone. Nick was calling probably to let you know they had landed safely so you answered it, “Hello?” There was a pause on the other side, but you could hear Chris and Matt faintly bickering in the background. “Shut up, Chris. Just grab our bags so we can go find y/n,” Nick said, sounding far away. He was too busy trying to reel the other two in while grabbing his carryon to hold the phone to his face.

“Hello?!” You repeated louder in hopes that he’d hear you this time. Finally he placed the phone to his ear, using his shoulder to hold it in place as he grabbed his belongings in both hands. Although the flight was only 3 hours long, he still packed an unnecessary amount of things including a blanket and a pillow. “Hi, sorry. Chris and Matt are being stupid,” he finally responded as he slung his carryon over his shoulder and stuffed his pillow under the arm that wasn’t propping his phone against his ear.

“Did y’all land?” You asked while looking over at your husband as he struggled to find where to go, becoming lost in the maze that was the airport. He was going towards the East exit, but from your countless trips back and forth from California to Texas you knew he was meant to be going towards the South exit. Quickly you snapped your fingers in Jack’s face to grab his attention before pointing in the direction he was meant to be driving. Without a hitch, he shifted the steering wheel and went in the direction you were pointing.

“I wouldn’t be calling you if we hadn’t,” Nicks voice was laced with sarcasm as he scurried behind his brothers to make his way out of the packed airplane. You hummed in response, mostly just relieved that they had landed safely, “well I’m asking cause we’re here already.” There was a lot of background noise coming through your phone speaker, mostly the voices of people you couldn’t identify. “Tell her we’re grabbing our bags,” you heard Matt say faintly in the background, probably wanting to cut your conversation with Nick short so that Nick could pay attention to where he was walking and what he was doing.

“Y/n, Matt says to tell you we’re getting our-” Nick begins to say, but is quickly cut off by Chris shouting through the speaker, “WE’RE GETTING OUR BAGS Y/N!” You grimaced and held the phone away from your ear to avoid busting your eardrums. Jack chuckles at this, putting the car in park outside the South exit before chiming in on the conversation, “we’re waiting for you guys outside the South Gate.”

“Was that Jack?” Nick asks as he, Chris and Matt watch the conveyor belt of luggages intently in order to spot theirs. You put the phone on speaker and place it on the middle console of the car, wanting to allow your husband to join in on the conversation, “Yeah buddy it’s me.” Jack had always been like an older brother to the triplets even before you two started dating, especially because he was such good friends with Justin.

Finally the boys find their luggages, working as a team to grab them all before they wiz away. “Cool! I thought y/n was gonna come alone and we’d meet you back at your house,” Nick sounded slightly out of breath as he said this because he was trying to juggle the phone, his pillow, his carryon and now his luggage. “Why would I do that when I can quite literally be a passenger princess,” you shot your husband a knowing look which received an eye roll and a dramatic scoff in return.

“Can you believe this girl, Nick? She forces me to drive her everywhere,” Jack decided to play around with the joke, wanting to embarrass you slightly. It was true though, you were always asking him to accompany you places just so you’d have an excuse to sit in the passenger seat. “As much as I’m loving this conversation, I’m gonna hang up now,” Nick replied, the multitude of items in his hands becoming too much to carry as the three of them made their way towards the South exit.

“What? No! Nick don’t hang up, what if we can’t find you guys!” You grabbed ahold of the phone again, taking it off speaker and placing it on your ear. You shifted your body to face towards the window, peering outside to try and getting a better look inside the airport. Your brothers weren’t too far away, already having made their way outside, but they hadn’t spotted your car yet. Slowly, they came into view and you watched as they trudged in the opposite direction of your vehicle.

“Oh never mind, I see you guys,” a laugh escaped your lips as you said this. Hurriedly, you undid your seatbelt and unlocked your door before hopping out of the car. “What? Where? I don’t see your car,” Nick was now looking left to right, his eyes scanning his surroundings for you and your car. At the mention of this, Chris and Matt did the same thing. “The other way, dumbass,” you replied, hanging up the phone and shoving it in your back pocket so you could wave your hands in the air.

Jack was standing next to you at this point, also waving his hands in the air in an attempt to grab your brothers’ attention. “GUYS!” You shouted, watching as they looked around in confusion still unable to spot you. Mentally you face palmed at their stupidity before shouting their names. This is what finally caught their attention, pulling their gaze in your direction. A smile grew on your face as excitement bubbled up inside you.

Their pace quickened as they tried to get to you faster without dropping any of their things. “I’m so excited!!” You whisper shouted, doing a small dance before beginning to walk towards your brothers. They were holding a lot of things and it looked like they could use some help. Your husband followed suit behind you, making sure to lock the car. He was equally as excited as you, probably even more excited because he hadn’t seen the triplets in so long.

When you finally reached them, you immediately pulled Nick in for a hug. Chris and Matt, on the other hand, went in to dab Jack up. “It’s so hot, I’m sweating already,” Nick chuckled, pulling you into him. “It’s warm,” you agreed, pulling away slightly to get a good look at his face. He looked so much older from the last time you’d seen him, his face adorned with stubble. You also noted that he had dyed his hair, his blonde locks contrasting Chris and Matt’s black hair.

You pulled away from Nick so he could greet Jack and made your way over to Chris and Matt. Nick and Jack shared a side hug, Nick making the same comment about the weather. Before you could say or do anything, Chris was pulling you in for a hug. He held you tightly, rocking you two back and forth before letting go so you could hug Matt. Matt engulfed you in his arms just as quickly as Chris had, rubbing your back before saying, “where’s your car?”

You ignored his question, wanting to get a good look at the three of them before walking over to your car, “Let me get a good look at you guys first.” They were slightly confused at the sentiment, not understanding that they looked older and older every time you saw them. As an older sister, it was your responsibility to absorb these moments like they’d never happen again. Although they were confused, they huddled together and allowed you to examine their appearance.

Your heart swelled as you took a look at them, they looked so grown up. Each of them had stubble, Matt’s being more outgrown than Chris and Nick’s. You also noticed Nick and Matt’s arms were littered with more tattoos than last time. “You guys look so grown up right now,” you commented, a small smile growing on your face. They rolled their eyes at this, you were always so dramatic and sentimental. “What! Let me love you guys!” You exclaimed when you caught sight of their eye rolls.

“Love me by carrying my bag, kid,” Chris said, shoving the backpack he’d used as a carryon in your direction. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as you snatched his bag and allowed Matt and Nick to hand you something of theirs too. Jack laughed at this, offering to help carry some of their things too.

“Aaaand now I hate you guys again,” you said jokingly, turning in the direction of your car and walking away. They laughed, shaking their heads and following behind you.

—

The ride from the airport back to your house wasn’t too long, but it seemed like forever for the triplets seeing as they had just gotten off a 3 hour flight. In retrospect, 3 hours isn’t long either, but when you paired it with the two hour time difference from L.A to Texas, the time it took them to get to the airport, and the long wait for their flight you realized that they must be tired of sitting around. “You guys hungry?” You asked, shifting to face them in the backseat.

It was 2 in the afternoon now, but because of the time difference, it was 12 in the afternoon in L.A so you figured they’d be hungry. They were all bunched up in the back seat, pillows and blankets squeezed between them. Nick’s head rested against the window, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar buildings that passed by. Matt’s head was down and his eyes were shut, chin resting against his chest with his arms crossed. He must’ve fallen asleep as soon as he got in the car, allowing himself to relax once in the presence of familiar people. Chris, who sat in the middle seat with a pillow on his lap replied, “I could eat.”

You hummed in response, waiting for Nick to reply. “Yeah, I’m getting pretty hungry,” he said, still looking outside. He noticed that the traffic here was nowhere near as bad as it was in L.A, you guys were flying down the highway and if he stared at one building too long it would become a blur. “You think Matt’s hungry?” You asked, not wanting to wake him up.

“Mmm probably, he was to nervous to eat this morning,” Chris replies, leaning forward in his seat so he can get a good look at Matt’s face. Chris grabbed one of the many blankets that were in the backseat, pulling it over Matt and tucking it snuggly against him. “Yeah, he couldn’t sleep last night either,” Nick says, finally averting his gaze from the window to look at Matt. You also look over at Matt, feeling a bit sad that he allowed his nerves to get the best of him.

“Awe, my poor little brother,” you whispered in sincerity. “Poor dude’s slumped,” Jack says, looking back at Matt quickly before looking back at the road. Matt’s eyes shot open, somehow sensing that all eyes were on him. “Oop!” You exclaimed, quickly facing forward again. All of you, with the exception of Matt, were laughing now. “What’s so funny?” His voice was groggy, a small yawn following his question.

“Nothing Matty, go back to sleep,” Chris replied, throwing a corny nickname in the mix for good measure as he readjusted the blanket. You all were still laughing, leaving Matt confused, but he decided not to question any further and shut his eyes again.

“Y’all want Whataburger?” Jack asks, he doesn’t wait for their answer as he rounds a corner and enters the parking lot of said restaurant. “Do we have a choice?” Nick asks, not knowing much about the restaurant.

“You do not,” you stated, knowing that this had become your husbands favorite restaurant since moving to Texas. “It was a rhetorical question,” Jack says, putting the car in park and smiling at Nick through the rear view mirror. “This place looks like it just got sentenced to 40 years in prison,” Nick comments, referring to the orange and white stripes on the roof of the building that resembled a prison jumpsuit.

“Team orange, for real,” Chris jokes, earning a laugh from the rest of you.

—

It’s 4 in the afternoon when you all finally arrive to your house, lugging all the bags inside and leaving some of them in the living room to be dealt with tomorrow. The triplets had never been to your house before so when they walked in they looked around, taking in all the little details. “Welcome to our humble abode,” you said in a dramatic English accent before beginning a house tour. It was typical for you all to put on funny accents to exaggerate the importance of a situation or to make the others laugh. They laugh at this, following behind you as you walk them through your house still speaking in your English accent. Your house wasn’t too big considering the only people who lived in it were you and Jack, so the house tour was over quickly.

“Follow me this way gentleman, let me show you where you’ll be staying,” Jack said doing the same accent you had been doing, motioning for your brothers to follow him. You laughed at this gesture, loving the fact that he played along. “Thank you kind sir,” Matt replied attempting to do the same accent, but accidentally doing his infamous country accent instead. “Well I’ll be damned, this Texas heat is getting to me,” he continued, still putting on the country accent as he played into his failed attempt at doing an English accent.

You all laugh at this, the boys following Jack to the room you’d prepared for them. In it was a queen sized bed, a blow up mattress, a television, and a closet big enough for all of them to put their things away. There was also a restroom attached to it, stocked entirely with clean towels, toilet paper, toothpaste, and any thing else they might need during their stay. The large window in the room brings in a good amount of natural light, a perfect view of the house’s backyard visible.

The triplets walk inside, throwing some of their things on the bed. Chris jumps onto the bed, sprawling his limbs out so he looks like a star. “We’ll let you guys get situated. We’ll be in the living room, okay?” you say with a chuckle, ushering Jack out of the room. “Okay, yeah. We’ll be done in a bit,” Chris replies, rolling over onto his stomach so he can look out the window into the backyard.

“Yeah, I just have to shower and I’ll be down,” Nick agrees, placing his suitcase on the floor and opening it so he can dig through his clothes for the perfect outfit. Matt agrees as well, joining Chris on the bed so he can gauge whether he wants to sleep there or on the inflatable. “Alright, I stocked the restroom with everything you guys might need. Use it all,” you assured, ready to close the door and to join your husband in the living room.

“Oooh I’m gonna make potions!” Chris says giddily as he rubs his hands together maliciously, causing you to roll your eyes and shut the door.

—

The next couple of days were completely adventure filled as you and Jack took your brothers to as many places you could think of. The five of you had also put together a list of locations you wanted to visit and so far you’d checked off quite a few. Considering you lived in a small town between many big cities, it was easy to compile a list of ideas. For example, on the first day you guys had gone to Six Flags, the Alamo, and had taken a river boat ride in San Antonio. The five of you must’ve gone on every ride at Six Flags at least twice.

On the second day, you visited The Galleria Mall and Color Factory in Houston, even taking a quick trip to Chinatown before heading back home. You guys took so many pictures on this day, making sure to pose as many times as possible in every room inside the Color Factory.

On the third and fourth day you guys decided to stay home, watching movies and getting takeout. You guys watched scary movies and took turns taking jabs at the characters on the screen, commenting on their poor decision making skills and how you’d easily survive every situation presented on screen. You and Nick had even baked cookies that day, not allowing Chris, Matt or Jack to help because they were sure to mess up the recipe.

Since they were only going to be here for a couple more days you wanted to make the most of it. So on the fifth day you guys were ready for yet another adventure. This time, you guys were heading back into San Antonio to go to the rodeo, an experience that your brothers had never had before. Jack unfortunately couldn’t join you guys today because he couldn’t get the day off which bummed you slightly, but you knew you’d have a good day regardless.

“Make sure you pack the water bottles,” you shouted towards your brothers, watching as they packed the trunk of your car with all the things you could possibly need today. “Oh! And the sunscreen, it’s going to get hot!” You called again, going through your mental checklist so you wouldn’t forget anything important. “It’s already hot!” Nick calls back in a sing-song tone as he shuts the trunk of your car.

All three of your brothers were super excited to go to the rodeo, but they were not excited for the blistering heat. You guys learned your lesson on the first day when you guys had gone to Six Flags and came back home extremely red and sunburnt. You locked your front door, your brothers piling into the car. Chris sat in the passenger seat with Matt in the seat behind him and Nick in the seat behind the drivers seat.

You ran over to the drivers side, opening the car door and jumping into the seat. Chris had already taken the aux cord, connecting it to his phone before scrolling through his endless playlist for the perfect song. “You guys ready?” You asked, adjusting your seat and fixing your mirrors before buckling yourself. A string of agreements came from your brothers, so you put the car in reverse and began your journey.

The drive into San Antonio wasn’t long, but for whatever reason Chris decided his current soda wasn’t up to his liking so he demanded you stopped at a gas station so he could pick something new. As annoying as it was, you agreed because Nick and Matt also wanted to stop and get something. “Fine, find something on Google Maps,” you said, not looking away from the road.

Chris grabbed his phone from the center console, where he had placed it so he could skip and search for songs as he pleased, before opening Google Maps and searching for the nearest gas station. “It says the nearest one is called busseys? I don’t know, I can’t fucking read that shit,” he said, clicking on it and allowing the phone to guide you towards the location. You listened intently for the directions, wanting to know what exit you’d have to take to get here. Nick grabbed ahold of Chris’s phone and read the name of the gas station, “Buc-ee’s?! You fucking dumbass?!”

Matt laughed at this, scooting forward in his seat to look over at the phone. He read the name, laughing at how Chris had completely butchered the pronunciation of the name. “Kid really said busseys,” Matt laughed again, sitting back in his seat. The three of them were laughing, you were giggling too but you were mostly trying to listen to the directions. “Chris! What exit is it?!” You used your right hand to try and grab the phone, but Nick was still holding it.

“Nick has the phone, how am I supposed to know!” He exclaimed, pointing at Nick like he was the culprit of a terrible crime. “Calm down, it’s the one after this one,” Nick replied as he dramatically placed the phone back on the center console. “Thank you,” you said sarcastically, shooting Nick a playful glance through the rear view to which he rolled his eyes.

When you finally pulled into the parking lot, Chris jumped up dramatically at the sight of the building. He inched closer to the dashboard to get a better look. It was the biggest gas station he had ever seen, complete with a mascot and everything! As he examined the building closer, he caught sight of a statue in the front of entrance. He squinted his eyes, trying to decipher what the statue was. When he finally realized what it was, his eyes opened in shock, “IS THAT A FUCKING BEAVER?!?”

“WHAT?! WHERE?!?” Nick shouted, moving closer to Matt for protection because he thought there was an actual beaver outside. Matt stretched his neck, trying to see over Chris’s seat to see what he was looking at. His eyes grew wide too, seeing the giant statue in front of the building. “Holy fuck that thing is huge!” He exclaimed, pushing himself up from his seat to get a better view. When he said this, Nick only became more flustered, “WHERE IS IT?!? DON’T SAY THAT!” He shouted again, causing you all to laugh.

“Nick it’s just a statue,” you said through laughter, attempting to reassure him. “Oh,” he relaxed immediately when you said this, finally looking over Chris’s seat and seeing the giant beaver statue. “He’s kinda cute,” Nick admitted, feeling silly for reacting so dramatically.

“Wait…” Chris said as he looked around suspiciously as if he was about to reveal something no one was supposed to know, “is that beaver… Bussey?” His voice came out in a whisper almost like he had just discovered a conspiracy. You erupted in a fit of laughter again, getting out of the car to make your way inside.

“Ha. Bussey,” Matt laughed to himself, unbuckling his seat and getting out of the car to walk into the gas station.

—

The stop at Buc-ee’s had completely sidetracked you guys and you all almost forgot about the rodeo entirely. It took you guys an abnormally long time to look through everything the store had to offer. There were food items you’d never seen before, a mini restaurant, a bakery, a section with house supplies, and even a gift shop filled to the brim with specialized Buc-ee’s merch. Chris was mesmerized by the drink station, wanting to try every single flavor. He had successfully talked you all into each getting a different flavor so he could try as many as possible.

When you finally checked out, you were each walking out with a bag or two of merch and snacks. There was so much to choose from including mugs, keychains, sweatshirts, t-shirts, and plushies all of it resembling or including the gas station’s mascot.

“Shout out to Buc-ee, man. This soda is so good,” Chris commented once you guys were back in the car, taking a long sip from his drink. “Wait let me try,” Matt said, trading his drink with Chris so they could try each others drinks. Matt took a sip of Chris’s drink, eyes widening once the flavor settled in his mouth. The soda was actually really good. “Stop, it can’t be that good,” Nick said, rolling his eyes at Matt’s theatrics. “Try it,” Matt replied, holding the drink out for Nick to take.

Nick takes a sip, eyes also widening once he realized how good it was. You watched them intently, now you wanted to taste it to see the hype. “This tastes like the time Matt threw the fork at the old lady!” Nick exclaims, taking another sip to make sure he was getting it right. “Yes! Yes!” Chris agrees, recalling the memory fondly.

“Let y/n try it!” Matt says, pulling the drink away from Nick mid sip, causing it to dribble down his chin a little. “Woah Matt, calm down tough guy,” Chris says, watching as Nick wipes the soda from his chin, mouth still full of soda. Nick tries hard to hold in his laughter so that he doesn’t spit the drink out in your car, the three of you looking at him fully expecting there to be a mess in the backseat in mere seconds. He calms himself down, breathing in deeply before swallowing.

Once the coast is clear and he’s sure that Nick isn’t going to spit his drink out, Matt hands you the cup. You take it and immediately take a sip, having the same reaction as your brothers. “It’s good, right!” Chris says, eagerly taking the drink back and taking another sip.

“That does taste like the time Matt threw the fork at the old lady!” you exclaim in excitement causing Matt to shake his head as he reminisces on the memory.

—

Finally you guys arrive at the rodeo, making sure to go up to every booth and ride every single ride. You guys even waited in the long lines to try the crazy food items being advertised like the fried oreos and boiled peanuts. The four of you walked around the carnival portion of the rodeo for what seemed like forever before deciding to enter the area where they had all the livestock.

“It stinks in here,” you commented as you guys walked into the building where the animals were in. You plugged your nose, leading the way through the building. “Ew it does,” Nick agreed, copying your actions and plugging his nose. Chris and Matt were either unphased by the smell or they didn’t want to be rude because they didn’t say anything.

There were so many different animals so you guys walked around the building to look at them all. After a while, you and Nick had become accustomed to the smell and took your time admiring the animals. The ducks were your personal favorite, but the cows were a close second.

“Look! They have horses over there!” Matt said, this was the most excited you’d seen him since you’d arrived here. He rushed his way over to where the horses were, the rest of you following behind him. You guys pushed through the sea of people, trying to keep up with Matt. “Matt, wait up!” Chris shouted, excusing himself as he pushed past people to try and reach Matt. Before you knew it, you guys had lost sight of him and were looking around trying to spot him in the crowd.

“I think he went this way,” Nick said, leading the way in a completely different direction. You and Chris follow Nick, careful not to leave too much distance between between the three of you as to avoid getting lost. “Nick, you’re going to fast,” you mumble, trying to grab ahold of his hand but fail due to being pushed out of the way by other people trying to make their way through the crowd. You stop dead in your tracks, not wanting to bump into anyone causing Chris to bump into you.

“Sorry,” he says, moving to stand beside you. When you start walking again, you look up to see where Nick went but you can’t find him anymore either. “Great, now we lost Nick,” you groaned, facepalming while Chris tiptoed to see over the crowd. You were too short to see that high up so there was no point in trying, but Chris had spotted Nick’s blonde hair in the distance.

“He’s over there, I see him,” he says confidently, grabbing your shoulders and turning you in the direction he saw Nick. He pushes your shoulders lightly, guiding you in Nick’s general direction. When he felt like you guys were heading the right way, he let go of your shoulders and began walking next to you instead of behind you. “He might have gone this way,” he says, turning right and walking in the direction his gut was leading him.

“Which way?” You asked, looking over to where he was just standing. Another groan escaped your lips, you had just lost Chris too. For a while, you stood in place hoping that one of them would somehow find you, but after about 5 minutes you realized no one was going to find you in this large sea of people. Panic was beginning to build up inside of you, but you took a deep breath and calmed yourself down, determined to find your brothers so you guys could leave.

Your inner monologue was going crazy, thinking of all the things that could’ve happened to your brothers. For all you know, they could’ve all walked out of this building and were somewhere across the whole venue. First you passed the pigs, not finding anyone there. You asked some people if they’d seen any of your brothers, trying to describe what they looked like before realizing they were literally almost identical and that asking people wasn’t going to get you anymore.

Secondly, you passed the chickens, still coming up empty handed. By the time you had circled back to where you started, you were actually beginning to panic. You felt the tears brimming, trying to hold it in so you wouldn’t cry in front of a room full of strangers. Everything was slowly becoming too much, the animals, the people, the noise, even the smell was beginning to bother you again. Before the tears could flow, you heard Nick, “Oh thank God I found you!”

You turned in the direction you heard him, an instant wave of relief washing over your body. “Hey, you okay?” He asked softly, noticing how scared you looked. His hands were on your shoulders, grounding you. Once you saw him, you weren’t as scared, but the built up emotions from before had shaken you. You nodded your head in response, wiping a stray tear.

“Let’s go find Chris and Matt,” he suggested with a small smile. He slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him protectively. To your surprise, he was being very gentle with you. Ever since you’d shared your heartfelt story on the podcast, Nick had felt an urge to protect you like you’d always protected him, Chris and Matt.

You two did another lap around the building, making small talk along the way before deciding that Chris and Matt had probably left the building. As you two walked outside, you saw Chris and Matt walking in your direction each with a corndog in hand. They were too immersed in their own conversation to notice you and Nick.

“What the fuck?!” Nick shouted once they were in earshot, only saying it loud enough for them to hear. They perked up at this, looking in the direction of you two with confused looks on their faces. “We walked around that place like 5 fucking times looking for you idiots!” Nick exclaimed again. Matt shrugged, taking a bite from his corndog. “You’re both so annoying,” you grumbled, actually upset.

“We saw you guys, it looked like you were having a good time,” Chris commented before taking a bite of his own corndog, not catching that you were actually mad at them this time. “And we were hungry soooo… we got food,” Matt explains, offering you a bite of his food. You push his hand away in annoyance only causing him to offer Nick a bite. Nick rolled his eyes, but he took Matt up on the offer and took a bite. The corndog was good, but he was still mad.

“Let’s just go home,” you reply, feeling the exhaustion and anger ruin your mood. “Hmm yeah, it’s starting to get dark,” Chris agrees, dipping his corndog in mustard before taking yet another bite. Matt agrees with him, making a comment about how he hates driving at night. How could two people be so oblivious?

You decide to hold your tongue, instead humming and beginning to walk to your car. You’re quiet the entire ride home, not singing along to any of the songs Chris is playing and not engaging in any of the conversations surrounding you. Nick is the only who notices, both Matt and Chris still completely oblivious.

Finally, when you get home you sigh in relief and turn the car off. You unbuckle your seatbelt, getting out of the car and slamming the door in the process. “What’s her problem?” Chris asks, taken aback by how hard you slammed the door. Nick mentally facepalms, how is Chris just now noticing you were upset? “That was dramatic,” Matt chimes in, watching as you disappear into the house without waiting for them to get off the car.

“Are you guys that dumb?” Nick asks, unbuckling himself and gathering the bags that you all had accumulated throughout the day. “What? She slammed the door, not us,” Chris said, also gathering his things from the front seat. Matt was about to interject, but was swiftly interrupted by Nick, “She was looking for us inside that building!” Chris and Matt couldn’t be more confused.

“What building?!” Matt asked, raising his voice to the same level Nick had. “THE ONE WITH THE ANIMALS YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” Nick responded, unafraid to get loud. “Okay? We were looking for you guys too?” Chris responds sassily, not quite ready to raise his voice yet. “She was crying, though. I think she got really scared,” Nick’s voice softened a bit, remembering the scared look on your face and the tear that rolled down your cheek.

“Oh,” the other two mumbled, finally realizing that they had kinda ditched you two in there. “Let’s just go inside,” Nick sighs, opening his door and getting out of the car before walking inside the house. Chris and Matt felt bad now, but how were they supposed to know you’d get scared? Older sisters weren’t supposed to get scared. They got off the car and joined Nick inside.

—

The next morning you woke up bright and early, still a little upset from yesterday, but not as upset as you were when you got home. Everyone was up already, you could hear noise coming from the kitchen and the triplets talking with your husband. You got ready for the day before heading downstairs, ready to greet your family in the kitchen. As you neared the final step, you stopped because you wanted to hear what the boys were talking about.

“You guys need to apologize, she was really scared,” Nick said, referring to yesterdays events. Leave it to Nick to try and make amends and keep everyone happy. You were going to walk in the kitchen, but Chris’s voice stopped you, “What if she cries again?”

“She’s going to cry, she always cries,” you hear Jack say, followed by the sound of whisking. ‘I hope he’s making pancakes,’ you thought before realizing that he had just called you a crybaby. He’s your husband and here he is agreeing with your brothers that you cry a lot. “When she comes down, I’ll apologize,” this time it was Matt who spoke, feeling a little nervous, but also sad. You two had never had a falling out before. Growing up you would only ever have big fights with Justin, sometimes having an argument or two with Nick, even a slight disagreement with Chris, but never had you been actually mad at Matt. He felt like he had failed you.

You were done waiting, you took the last step and rounded the corner. “Good morning,” you greeted, offering everyone a small smile, including your husband. You walk over to Jack only to see what he was making, but he thinks you’re going over for a kiss. He leans down, ready to plant his lips on yours, but you turn your head to the side and let it land on your cheek. He’s taken aback by this, but doesn’t say anything. You might’ve let him kiss you, but upon inspection you realized he was making eggs. ‘Gross,’ you thought, before walking over to the fridge for something to drink. You liked eggs, but you were hoping for pancakes.

“Morning,” Chris says awkwardly, coughing right afterwards to try and sound casual. “Morning,” Matt greets, sounding extremely nervous as he watches your every move. “How’d you sleep?” Nick asks, pouring cereal into a bowl. “Mmm pretty good for the most part,” you reply, grabbing the orange juice from inside the fridge before closing it. Nick hums in response, grabbing his bowl of cereal and walking over to the kitchen table.

“How did you guys sleep?” You ask, look between your three brothers. Nick knows you’re really only asking Chris and Matt so he stays quiet, silently eating his cereal as he prepares for the events to unfold. “Um, pretty good?” Chris’s answer is unsure, he’s scared to say the wrong thing. Was he supposed to say he had the worst sleep of his life? Cause if he was it would be a lie. He hated fighting with you, but he wasn’t the type to kiss ass just to earn forgiveness.

You nodded your head, not saying anything before looking at Matt. Matt hates this, he quickly realized you were probably going to scold them after this. “Same, I slept- um- I slept good,” he’s stuttering through his words, so nervous that he could probably shit himself. Nick is still munching away, watching you all intently. Jack, on the other hand, was too busy stirring his eggs to care about a sibling quarrel.

“Hmm, okay,” you respond, slowly nodding your head. “I’m sorry?” Chris finally says, wondering if that’s what you wanted to hear. You smirk a little, looking over expectantly at Matt this time. He realizes what this is and goes from nervous to annoyed. You weren’t even mad anymore, you were just trying to get them to apologize to embarrass them. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, avoiding your gaze in fear that he’ll go completely red.

“What was that? Sorry I couldn’t hear you,” you pushed, cupping a hand to your ear. “I’m sorry,” he replied again slightly louder than before. “I’m sorry, Nick could you hear him?” You look back at Nick who quickly shakes his head no, chuckling at the entire situation. “Go ahead Matt, we couldn’t hear you,” you had let go of Chris at this point to to get a better look at Matt.

“I’m sorry!” He’s almost shouting at this point, beyond annoyed with you. “Why didn’t you just say that the first time!” You ask innocently, hugging him dramatically. Matt attempts to wiggle out of your grasp making Chris, Nick and Jack laugh as they watch you two struggle like children.

“The eggs are ready!” Jack announces, turning the stove off and picking the pan up in order to serve everyone. “I wish they were pancakes,” you grumble, letting go of Matt to take a better look at the eggs. Matt sighs in relief, hating everything about the previous interaction.

“Yes, chef!” Jack salutes you like a soldier, turning the stove back on immediately. You laugh, finally giving him the kiss he didn’t get earlier.

—

The last week flies by quickly and before you know it you’re back at the airport dropping your brothers off with more things than they arrived with. “I’m going to miss y’all,” you whisper into the group hug, not wanting to let go. The last two weeks had been so fun and now you probably won’t be together again until Thanksgiving or Christmas.

“We can always come back to visit,” Nick suggests, not wanting you to cry. There was always an opportunity to visit, especially on the weeks when their schedules were flexible. “Yeah, don’t be sad. Plus we call all the time,” Chris chimes in, the four of you breaking from your hug. You nod at this comment, knowing it was only half true. The times you were able to call them were slim, the time difference playing a sight role in your ability to coordinate a good time to talk.

“Plus there’s still Christmas,” Matt says, becoming sad at how far away it seems. “Yeah, you guys are right,” you admit. This wasn’t the end of the world, you’d see them again soon. You were mostly sad that you were going to be alone at home now when your husband was at work. Plus, in a month you’d be returning to work. You groaned internally at the thought of returning to work.

“Good afternoon passengers. This is a pre-boarding announcement for flight 76A to Los Angeles, California. All those boarding this flight please make your way towards the gate 3 immediately.” You hear over the intercom. Suddenly it feels more real, they were really leaving.

“That’s us,” Chris says, looking in the direction of the gate before grabbing ahold of his carryon and slinging it over his shoulder. You smile weakly at them, nodding your head. Of course you know they have to leave, you understand that they have a life of their own. “Alright, I guess we gotta go,” Nick says, offering you one last hug goodbye. “I love you guys, be safe. Call me when you get home,” you say as you hug him.

“So bossy,” Matt chuckles, offering you a hug of his own. You laugh a little as you hug him, too sad to argue with him over this comment. “This is the final boarding call for passengers on flight 76A to Los Angeles, California. Please proceed to gate 3 immediately.” The boys grab their things in a rush when they hear this.

“Okay guys, we gotta to go,” Chris says, ushering his brothers towards gate 3 as quickly as possible. Chris hated goodbyes, he didn’t see the point in all the sappy hugs and kisses. It’s not like you were never going to see each other again. You know this, so you don’t press him for a hug. “Yes! Go!” You agree, waving them in the direction of their boarding gate. They hurriedly walk away with all their things in their hands, looking back at you and waving. You were a little sad you didn’t get to hug Chris goodbye, but you’d survive. You watch as they rush to make it to their gate on time.

Just as you’re about turn to leave you see Chris stop and you swear you hear him groan. He drops his things and turns back to you. Before you know it he’s running back to you and engulfing you in a hug. The guilt was eating at him the closer he got to the gate, how was he going to leave without hugging his only sister goodbye? “I should’ve just hugged you the first time,” he says, resting his chin on the top of your head. You smile, wrapping your arms around your brother and rubbing his back. Who knew Chris could be such a sap?

“CHRIS!” Nick yells from the gate as he tries to tell the flight attendant to wait for him. “Okay, I gotta go now,” he lets go of you and runs towards where Nick is, grabbing his things in the process. “I’m going!” He yells, almost tripping from how quickly he’s running. They disappear into the gate, the doors closing behind them.

You were going to miss them, but you were so glad you had the chance to spend time with them.

PT.3

—

A/n: you ask and you shall receive! I wrote a long story for you because I don’t really know if I want to turn this into a series, but I do want to provide you with enough content to hold you over haha. Hope you enjoy!!!! Also, for those just reading this story for the first time, go read part one for a better understanding of the little details.

- L.A.M.B 👼🏻💗

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x y/n #Christopher sturniolo x y/n #Nicolas sturniolo x y/n #Matthew sturniolo #teapartyanonreqs✨💗

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 2

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: I was overwhelmed by the response on Part 1 (in the BEST way). 🥹 Thank you so much for everyone who read and sent me your lovely amazing comments! Here's Part 2 a bit early for ya. 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: Idiots flirting, with a side of sexual harassment. 😪

Part 2: "Lieutenant Winchester"

Firehouse 25 was just as much a house as it was a home.

Especially for Dean Winchester.

In the common room, he sat down at his preferred corner of the sofa with a cup of coffee. By now, the guys knew this was his spot, perfectly angled toward the new flatscreen TV someone donated last month.

Up until then, they’d had to hotwire the same tank from 1995, which had only got basic cable. Now at least the newer smart TV came with a subscription to Netflix, courtesy of the donor. 

Dean raised his favorite Batman mug to his face, expecting to imbibe some rich dark roast. What he got was a travesty.

Spitting out the brown soil water back into the mug, he coughed and grimaced.

“Jack!” he called out.

Jack Kline, the newest addition to the house, raised his head from where he was trying to scramble eggs in the open kitchen directly behind the couch.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he replied.

“Why does this coffee taste like ass?” Dean asked. His voice was still gruff with sleep, as he depended on his morning coffee to wake him up, not assault his tongue.

Behind him, Jack blinked in confusion. “Uh…”

Dean finally turned around and gave the younger man a raised brow.

“What brand did you buy, Candidate?” he asked.

A candidate was a freshly graduated firefighter on probation. They were the rookie, the bottom rung of the totem pole, and Jack was that proverbial whipping post.

“Um…” Jack went to find the coffee canister he’d put away in the cupboards. He showed Dean the red plastic jug. “Folgers. It was on sale.”

“Fuck me,” Dean muttered. “Never Folgers, Candidate. Anything but fucking Folgers. The one thing we don’t skimp out on is quality joe.”

“That ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son,” Benny remarked, as he and Gordon entered the common room. Benny held a to-go mug he’d brought from home. After he’d seen what Jack brought for groceries yesterday, he’d taken no chances.

“What you wanna get is Gevalia,” Benny added.

“That European crap?” said Gordon. He took his usual spot at the dining table, leaning back in his chair. It left Benny to sit at the other end of the couch with Dean.

“Better than that piss water you drink,” Benny said with a smirk. Gordon raised a brow at him.

“Tea is medicinal, jackass.” The Black man raised a finger to punctuate his point. “It’s good for you. Unlike that carburetor fluid y’all drink.”

“Whatever, man,” Dean said, even though a grin edged at his lips. “All I know is, we need premium coffee, stat. Or it’s gonna be a cranky shift.”

“I can go to the store real quick,” Jack offered.

Say what you want about the kid’s poor taste in grocery buying, he was always willing to jump in when you needed him.

“Nah, stay on breakfast,” said Dean. “I’ll go afterwards. But remember, today you’re practicing rappelling drills.”

Jack nodded. “And lunch duty. And helping clean the truck, and all the bathrooms…did I miss anything?”

Dean shared a look with Gordon. Not only did he drive the truck, but he was one of the men Dean relied on most, as he had the next highest seniority on the job out of the whole firehouse.

Well, except for Benny Lafitte, Captain of the Rescue Squad. Squad members were considered specialists in complex rescue situations. They were highly trained on more sophisticated technical rescue equipment and rappelling, even scuba diving.

It took long years for a firefighter to make it onto Squad; something that Dean used to have ambitions for. But ever since he got promoted to Lieutenant on Truck 79, he realized that his role in this house was best served on the Truck, not on Squad.

“If he gets through all that, Meg might have something for him too,” Gordon said.

“Oh, don’t bring me into this,” remarked a droll voice. “I’ve already got one pound puppy to look after.”

Their Paramedic in Charge strode in with Chuck on her heels. They’d just pulled into the firehouse driveway on Ambulance 7.

“Nice. That’s how you talk about your partner of three years?” Chuck said with a frown. Meg turned to him with a wry grin.

“Only the ones who can hack it on my Ambo,” she replied. “What can I say. You’re special, Shurley. Either that, or a glutton for punishment.”

Gordon shook his head and looked over at Jack.

“Careful with that one. She chewed and hacked out her last partner in under a month.”

“Poor guy didn’t even transfer,” Dean added, making a “flatlining” motion with his hand. “He just quit. Dropped out of the Fire Academy that same day.”

Not all firefighters were made through Meg’s department, but it was a common route, working as a paramedic while getting put through your paces in the Fire Academy. Dean himself had gone straight to the Academy after getting his EMT certification.

But at Dean’s words, Jack’s eyes widened a fraction. Meg turned to him with an almost feline smile. 

“How was the call?” Benny asked her, speaking of the job they’d just returned from. Meg’s expression dimmed a little, as did Chuck’s as they both sat down at the table.

“Ah, just Henry again,” she said. “Overdosed on his insulin.”

Benny frowned, while Dean shook his head. Jack’s brows furrowed.

“Who’s Henry?” he asked.

Meg sat back in her chair with a subtle sigh. Knowing his work partner’s mood, Chuck answered the young man’s question.

“He’s homeless, lives by the river,” he said. “He’s one of our ‘regulars,’ you could say. When we get the call, usually he’s passed out. Dehydration. But sometimes it’s more serious.”

“You can’t take him to the hospital?” Jack asked in concern.

“Today we did,” Meg said. Her brown eyes met Jack’s, her mouth in a thin line. “But without health insurance, there’s only so much they can do after they get him stable.”

That fell a bit heavily into the room. It wasn’t a pleasant fact, but it was the reality. Jack was learning more and more about that aspect of this job, and learning if he could handle the darker shades of what it could bring.

“Well, breakfast is ready,” he said, bringing a large plate of eggs and toast onto the counter. Dean tossed him an appreciative half-smile and got up from the couch.

“Thanks, kid,” he said, walking over along with everyone else. He took a moment to pat Jack on the shoulder.

“What do you want to do first: run drills, or help me and Gordon wash the truck?” Dean asked.

Jack looked up with a smile. “Can we run drills first?”

Dean nodded, grinning back at him. “Good answer.”

The rest of the Truck and Squad crews ambled in at both the announcement and the smell of food. And before long, the common room was filled with conversation, good-natured teasing, and shitty coffee all around.   

From his vantage point facing the open door to the driveway, Benny caught sight of a young woman heading towards the double doors with a large tupperware bin in hand. Bonnie the receptionist happened to be coming in at the same time. You asked her a question Benny couldn’t quite hear.

“Dean… Oh, you’re looking for Lieutenant Winchester?” Bonnie asked. Her voice tended to carry. “Right in there, hun.”

“Well, that sure is interesting,” Benny murmured with a smile. He glanced over slyly at his friend. “Heads up, brother.”

Dean looked up from his plate of eggs expectantly. Benny gestured over with his eyes, just as you walked into the firehouse, both cautious and unsure of where you were going.

Dean’s brows raised. He found himself setting down his plate and getting up from the couch before he really knew what he was doing.

You looked exactly how he remembered. Though this time, you weren’t coffee stained in your professional blouse and black pencil skirt. His attention drew briefly downwards to your heels, this time solid black (and even taller than the last pair, damn).

He noticed all the same things he had last time: the shade of your hair, pinned up again with a clip as stray pieces framed your face. The way you carried yourself when you finally saw him, straightening with a subtle confidence in your shoulders, even though you looked a bit nervous. And the pretty curve of your lips when your eyes found his.

“Hey, there,” Dean said. He gave you one of his trademark smiles. “Good to see you again.”

“Uh, hi,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you remember me.”

Dean nodded. “‘Course I do. What can I do for you?”

Your face seemed to freeze up a bit as you looked up at him.

“Oh, um, nothing really. I just wanted to say thank you, again,” you said. And you glanced past him, where the rest of the firehouse members were discreetly watching. “All of you, actually. And my friend told me that firefighters really like food…but, I mean, doesn’t everyone?”

You laughed a little, in a nervous way that made Dean struggle not to smile too much.

“Anyway, I like to bake,” you twittered on, “and I had some time this week after…well, you know what happened. So…I brought this!”

You raised up your tupperware with a smile.

And you were damn adorable, Dean thought. His own smile deepened as he glanced down at the offering, then at you. He took the container and opened the lid, and was honestly surprised at what he saw.

He could’ve sworn these were Bonafede, just-poured-out-of-the-box Girl Scout cookies. Dozens of them. He saw shortbreads (complete with the little wavy lines), Samoa cookies with the coconut flakes, and even what looked like chocolate covered Thin Mints. They also smelled delicious.

“Wow. Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, with genuine warmth. “I’m pretty sure the guys are gonna tear these apart the second I put ‘em down.”

Your face brightened, and Dean noticed how it reached your eyes with a bit of a blush.

“Well, I hope you guys enjoy,” you said. Your hands fiddled with your purse next.

“Heading off to work now?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, with a certain glint in your eye. “I plan on taking the stairs this time.”

Dean raised a brow. “All 22 floors?”

“Gotta get my steps in somehow,” you joked. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to become a repeat offender, make you guys come all the way back across town again.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t mind,” he said, meeting your eyes. And he found that he meant it. In fact, he didn’t think he’d mind if your building’s elevator broke down every damn week.

Your expression shifted towards amusement. “Well, you must be very dedicated to your job.”

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you. He had half a mind to heed his instincts, to take advantage of the signals he thought you were sending him, and ask if he could take you out sometime.

But it was unprofessional here at the firehouse (not that that had stopped him before). He’d been making efforts to curb that kind of behavior for the past few months.

He also remembered the 30 floors of your massive, fancy office building. He considered the price tags that probably came with the admittedly sexy, high-powered corporate look you had going on. Those were probably a lot more zeros than he was used to seeing on his paycheck.

So for once, he didn’t pull the trigger.

“Well, thanks. I really do appreciate that,” Dean replied. His smile then was more sincere, if also more professional. He gestured at the container in his hand. “And on behalf of all the guys, thanks for this too.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “I have to go, but…thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester.”

“Ah,” he shook his head, “just call me Dean.”

You agreed by smiling, just a little bit more.

“Dean.”

He nodded back, sending you off with a smile of his own. He forced himself to taper it down after you left, and he had to turn around to meet his friends. Their grins reminded him of piranhas.

“All right. Out with it, you freakin’ jackals.” He waved his free hand in a “bring it on” gesture.

Meg was the first one to burst out laughing. It spearheaded the rest of them, whooping and catcalling and generally being menaces. Even Jack was grinning at his lieutenant’s expense.

Meg got up from her seat and bumped Dean’s shoulder on her way to the kitchen, where she dumped her dishes.

“Thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester,” she mocked in a saccharine sweet voice. Then she lowered it into an exaggerated mimic of his deeper one, “Call me Dean, baby girl. Fucking priceless. You should get your own Hallmark movie.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He’d been prepared for this, but his face was still getting warm.

“Shut up, Meg,” he tossed back. They all had an ongoing Family Guy joke that never failed to make their PIC narrow her eyes. And she did so now, giving him a fake grimace as she left the kitchen.

“All right, kiddos. If you need me, don’t,” she said. “Chuck! Let’s sort the ambo’s inventory.”

“Got it,” her partner nodded. He too got up and placed his dishes in the sink before he took off after Meg.

This left Dean with the rest of the guys, who still gave him knowing smiles as he set your bin of cookies down on the table. He blew out a breath before he returned to the couch and sat down heavily across from Benny and Gordon.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Dean Winchester bitched out,” Gordon remarked.

Once again, Dean rolled his eyes.

“Truly incredible,” Benny added. He shook his head when Dean just crossed his arms. “She was eying you like a pork cutlet, and you just let her walk outta here.”

“We’re in the house, guys. What was I supposed to do?” Dean groused.

Benny and Gordon looked at him like he’d just denounced Led Zeppelin (his favorite band of all time). 

“Get her goddamn number, Winchester,” said Gordon. The man’s lips curved. “Or at least, introduce her to a brother.”

Dean shot him a glance. Gordon Walker was damn good at driving the truck, but he was also known for being a hunter of the ladies himself.   

“She seemed nice,” Jack put his two cents in with a smile. He was standing behind the couch, leaning his elbows on it. Gordon scoffed, nodding his agreement.

“Yeah, with a fat ass too,” he said, sipping his tea. 

Benny reached over and hit his shoulder to shut him up. 

“That’s a lady, Gordon,” he said. Though a suspect smile graced his lips as he glanced at Dean. “A lady with a nice ass.” 

Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t disagree. The first time he met you, he’d been impressed by the way you stood your ground with your asshole boss. Dean thought you were going to chuck that lethal looking heel at the guy. But behind that steely exterior was a kind little softie.

Today, he got your sweet side. It was equal parts sexy and adorable. 

And damn if you didn’t have a nice ass, nice curves, and a nice mouth. 

But your eyes, he thought. Those were nothing short of beautiful. 

About twenty minutes across town, an apartment building was swarmed by police cars. One unit in particular was sealed off with yellow caution tape as a team of officers drifted in and out. 

What a fucked way to die.

Detective John Winchester observed the unnatural angle that the victim—Jerry Stillwell, a certified public accountant—had his throat cut with a jagged weapon.

It hadn’t been clean in the least. And he’d bled out across his work desk and a stack of papers, as well as his desktop computer. He was 45, unmarried, and murdered in his own home in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

The computer wouldn’t turn on, and not because of the blood. It had been wiped with magnetized technology, most likely by the intruder. Though there was no sign of forced entry, according to John’s partner. The murder weapon was missing as well, though it looked like a knife wound.

John leaned over the on-site medical examiner’s shoulder to peer closer at the man’s wounds. Stillwell had most likely been grabbed from behind. So far, the signs pointed to the culprit being someone the victim knew.

They probably took Stillwell by surprise, but he was a large man. If John had to guess, over 250 pounds, unathletic, but still, not easy to overpower. Likely the suspect was a man over 6 feet; strong, and efficient. Though the messiness of the kill made John think this guy took "pride" his work, so to speak.

“Signs of struggle,” said the M.E. “Skin under the fingernails. He fought back, and…huh.”

John’s interest piqued at the man’s shift in tone. “What?”

“Take a look at this.” The M.E. was holding Stillwell’s right hand, palm-up, revealing a small burn on the inside of the wrist. John’s gaze sharpened on the mark.

“Cas, come here,” he said. Across the room, Detective Cas Novak paused in his task of examining the entry points of the apartment to join John at his side. His blue eyes widened a fraction at seeing the burn. It was a symbol of a snake eating its own tail.

“That makes four,” Cas said.

“Yep. We’ve got ourselves a murder cluster,” John said. Cas nodded. He beckoned John to the side, making sure the M.E. was out of earshot before he spoke. “Isn’t it time we brought Sam up to speed on this, at least?”

John’s brows furrowed.

“No,” he said. “Sam’s an ADA. We don’t go to him until we have someone to indict.”

He walked away from Cas, who frowned. John knew damn well that wasn’t what he meant. This was the fourth murder within six months of this nature. The fourth to be branded with the mark of Azazel…a criminal who supposedly disappeared decades ago.

Shortly after November 2, 1983, the day of Mary Winchester’s death.

Seeing Dean again had gone better than you thought it would. It left you feeling light and downright cheerful when you left the firehouse this morning. Unfortunately, the great start to your morning only crumbled when you reached your office.

Now, even at the end of your day, finally back at home and in the familiarity of your kitchen, the tension headache was back.

“Dre, I’m tired. Can’t we do this another night?” you asked.

Your cell phone was balanced between your ear and your shoulder as you counted out your grandfather’s pills, and placed them in each “Monday through Sunday” box in the blue container.

“No, we absolutely cannot. Because today was horrific,” Andréa said. “For me, because my coworker decided to play hookie on the day our top account needed the mockups of their new website. Never mind that she hadn’t even started.”

Pause for an aggravated breath, through which you frowned in sympathy. She’d told you the entire story over lunch today.

“And for you, because Nick once again displayed why he’s a subhuman neanderthal, in spectacular fashion,” she added.

Your grimace deepened at the reminder.

Earlier today, just before a sales meeting you were set to lead, you’d turned away from the conference table to set up the projector. Nick was early for once, making it just him and you in the room.

He’d sat back in his chair and uttered a remark that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“I’ll tell you what, babe. You sure know how to wear a skirt.”

Your back straightened, and slowly you turned. Your face was set in stone, save for a solitary raise of your brow.

“Excuse me?”

Nick’s smirk was lazy as he kicked his feet up on the table. His hand held a tumbler of whiskey. You noted the half empty carafe, which just yesterday had been full and untouched.

“Fucking fantastic legs,” he said, vaguely outlining your shape with his hand. “I applaud you. It’s all very…sexy secretary. Oooh! Sexcretary. Fucking brilliant.”

You gaped, trying to put a clamp on the furious spike in your blood.

“Are you drunk?” you asked incredulously.

He raised his fingers an inch or so apart, scrunching up his face and trying not to laugh.

“Actually nah, not at all,” he bluffed. 

He let his hand fall back into his lap. You shook your head and set down your papers in order to cross your arms.

“Good. Then you’ll hear me clearly when I say, I’m filing a formal complaint with Billie in HR,” you said.

“Whaaat? Why?” he complained. You huffed incredulously.

“For your little comments, which are getting more and more heinous. Not to mention your excessive drinking during company hours.”

Nick pursed his lips. “Christ on a stick. Can’t you take a fucking compliment?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “What I refuse to take is any further sexual harassment. This isn’t the first incident I could disclose, but I’m damn sure you’ll want it to be the last.”

He kicked his feet off the table and slowly stood. You didn’t want to be afraid of this sloppy, frat boy drunken attitude, but a tendril of trepidation still laced down your spine as you took a step back.

“You could do that,” he nodded, tilting his head. “Or, I’ll give your Zimmerman account to Josh, along with your commission.”

You frowned, and shock made your entire body tense. 

“You…you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. Your insides fairly shook with frustration tinged with anger. “I’ll sue you.”

“With what money?” Nick scoffed.

Your brows knitted together then. How the hell would he know anything about your finances?

The man noted your reaction with a nod.

“Yeah, I know all about grammy and gramps. Surgeries, funerals, treatments…” he said. He leaned against the table with one hand, and still he fairly loomed over you.

He wasn't as broad as someone like Dean, but he was tall and lean. His dirty blonde hair was swept to the side, his blue eyes bearing down on you.

“I am this company. If you don’t like it, you can get the fuck out, sweetheart,” he said.

His gaze lowered, roaming your glowering face.

“And good luck getting anywhere else without a reference from one of the biggest corporations in Lawrence, Kansas.”

You sighed. Yeah, you might’ve shed some frankly embarrassing tears in the women’s bathroom after that. You hadn’t even told Andréa the full story, which included the details of his comments, along with his threats.

You didn’t want her to worry. And maybe, more selfishly, you were embarrassed at having to deal with it at all.

Truth be told, you still didn’t know what the hell you were going to do. About Nick, or your job…but somehow, getting drunk at a bar seemed about the last thing you should be doing.

“I need a drink,” Andréa insisted. “Which means you definitely need a drink. And I know exactly where we’re going.”

After a long moment, you leaned your elbows on the kitchen counter and rubbed through the persistent ache in your forehead. Maybe, just this once, you deserved to forget about reality. Just for a little while.

“Fine. Where?” you asked.

“It’s this great bar Meg told me about. The Roadhouse.”

“Ah, the usual suspects,” Ellen drawled at the men who managed to find seats at her bar, next to the rest of their party. The Roadhouse was packed on a Friday night, but she always had room for these two.

Benny and Dean wore similar tired, but pleasant smiles as they greeted their esteemed barkeep.

“What’s it been, Ellen, a whole shift since I’ve seen your delightful face?” Dean said.

Ellen gave him a mocking smile as she poured him his favorite beer on tap. Dean grinned and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder as he sat down. He and Cas had been waiting for a little while.

…Well, maybe longer than a little.

“Hey, dude,” Dean said. Sam perked up from his second beer with pursed lips.

“You know we’ve been waiting on you for like an hour, right?” he said.

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy,” Dean teased. He nodded his thanks at Ellen when she set his beer in front of him, and a glass of whiskey for Benny. “We had a last-minute call. Some guy just couldn’t wait to start his Happy Hour. Drove his car into the company fountain.”

Sam’s brows raised incredulously. He looked over at Benny for confirmation, and the other man gave a resigned nod.

“Apparently it set the ducks into a tizzy,” he said. “The guy’s fine. Probably gonna get slapped with a DUI.”

Dean smirked and raised a finger at both Sam and Cas. “Duck Guy’s your problem now.”

Cas shook his head and raised his beer to his lips.

“Not my department.”

“Mine either,” Sam scoffed. Both of them worked in homicide cases, just from the differing sides of law and order. In fact, they worked together more often than Dean and Cas did.

Dean looked over at his friend Cas for a moment. He looked like more of a hot mess than usual, with his tie half undone, and a scruffy half-beard covering his face.

“Geez, man. You look like shit,” Dean remarked. “You and Meg fighting again?”

“No,” Cas replied, his brows furrowing. “…Well, yes. But nothing more than her usual insanity. Something about the cat preferring to sleep next to me than to her.”

“Well, that’s not so bad,” Benny said. “My dog don’t like her either.”

“Maybe they can smell that she’s feral,” Dean quipped. Cas sent him a dry look at that.

“She threatened to move out,” he revealed. “Even packed a bag at 3:00 in the morning. I spent two hours unpacking what she was re-packing, all while we argued in our underwear, not sleeping.”

Sam and Dean shared bemused looks, while Benny shook his head into his whiskey.

“So how’d it end up?” Sam asked. Cas sighed and took another long sip of his beer.

“Like it always ends, Sam,” he said, his lips quirking. “With our neighbors calling the precinct to complain, and me, somehow ending up sleeping on the couch for a crime I didn’t commit. If she wants to blame someone, blame the goddamn cat.”

Dean chortled. He brought his beer to his lips, but couldn’t resist a light jab at his best friend first.

“Dude, I love her like a sister, but your girlfriend’s unhinged,” he said.

Cas could only nod. “Most are, I’ve come to find.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head. “Not mine.”

“Yeah, that’s because Eileen doesn’t have to see you more than two minutes at a time,” Dean teased. He and his brother still shared an apartment, and Sam’s job as an Assistant District Attorney wrought demanding hours.

Sam shot his brother a flat look.

“Oh, I’m not taking that from the serial playboy,” he said.

Dean’s brows knitted together.

“All right, calm down,” he said. “I’m not Hugh Hefner.”

“Mr. Hit and Run,” Cas added, a smirk gracing his features.

“Chief ‘No Daddy Issues,’” Benny tipped in, giving his annoyed, green-eyed friend a sly glance. “With a side helping of the Clap.”

Dean’s lips pressed into a line. He leveled a finger at Benny.

“That girl was clean, okay? False alarm,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward as he sipped his beer. Thank Christ for that one. “The rash was just carpet burn.”

Sam shook his head and turned to his brother more seriously.

“Bottom line: until you date a woman for more than two weeks—hell, two days at a time—you don’t get to comment on the happily committed,” he said. 

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew his track record with relationships. As in, he didn’t really have a record…but it wasn’t for lack of trying. At least, not for the past few months.

Sam managed to break Dean out of his thoughts by clearing his throat, pushing his empty bottle across the counter.

“All right, speaking of. I gotta go,” he said.

“Aw, why? We just got here. Let me buy you another,” Dean offered.

Sam shot his brother another knowing look. Dean knew it well; it said, if he’d been here on time, they would’ve shared the first two drinks.

“I’m picking up Eileen,” Sam said, grabbing his blazer and fixing the collar when he put it on. “There’s this Latin club she wants to go to.”

Dean raised incredulous brows.

“My brother’s going salsa dancing?”

Sam sighed in exasperation, despite his smile. “Bye, Dean.”

He shot his other two friends a nod.

“See you guys.”

Cas and Benny both saw him off with a subtle raise of their drinks, while Dean just shook his head.

“All right, Samantha,” he called out. Sam didn’t bother to turn around as he raised up a choice finger behind him.

Dean snorted into his drink. “Very mature.”

Benny and Cas shared a wry look. They were relieved when Ellen’s daughter Jo came by, picking up the slack for her mom, who was serving a rowdy group of college kids at a nearby table.

“Hey, guys. Need another round?” Jo asked. She gave them all a familiar smile, but her eyes lingered on Dean. He gave her a more reserved smile back.

“Hey, Jo,” he nodded. “I uh…actually think I’m good right now.”

“Me too,” Cas said. He even stood up and grabbed his trenchcoat in similar fashion as Sam had. The two had paid for their beers before Benny and Dean even got there.

“Aw, not you too,” Dean groused.

“If I don’t make dinner, we run the risk of the apartment going up in flames,” Cas informed him. Dean could only assume he was talking about Meg. “Despite working with the Fire Department for ten years, the woman can’t manage to boil an egg without supervision.”

Jo raised a brow, but her smile was bemused as she turned to Benny. “Anything for you?”

“Nah, darlin’. I’m good,” he said. But sensing the unspoken request in her eyes when she glanced at Dean, Benny straightened and raised from his seat. “But I’ll be back. Need’a hit the head.”

Dean internally sighed as Benny left him alone at the bar. Or, well, relatively alone. Jo lingered in front of him to wash and dry out a few glasses. The air between them was stiff, and a little awkward.

Dean’s thoughts shifted back to his brother then; while he still couldn’t believe Eileen had wrangled his gangly Sasquatch of a brother into going dancing, Dean was happy for him. Truly and sincerely. Sam deserved having someone who softened him, made him break away from his endless cases and have some fun.

Dean could also admit, if only to himself, that he was maybe a little jealous. Sam had something good with his girl. Something real.

Dean had carpet burn.

“So, how’s studying going?” he asked Jo. He couldn’t stand awkward silences. “Still planning on giving your mom a heart attack when you get into the Police Academy?”

Jo’s blue eyes flicked up to his. She brushed a coil of blond hair behind her ear after she finished drying a glass, and a smile raised the corner of her lips.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I gave her something to yell about,” she quipped. “But since you asked…my exam is in three months.”

“Good,” Dean nodded. “You’ve got time. Study your ass off. Keep up the conditioning routine I gave you, and you’ll be set. Just don’t forget the strength training. Very important.”

“I got it,” she said, this time with a brighter smile. “Some old firefighter gave me some pointers.”

Dean tilted his beer at her accusingly.

“Hey, don’t pin that old shit on me yet. Benny’s got more mileage than I do…”

He considered her then, after briefly looking down at the counter.

“What?” she said.

He kept his lips tight. “Nothin’.”

“No, Dean. What?” Jo pressed. “You want to say something. Say it.”

He blew out a breath and shook his head.  

“Ellen’s not the only one who’s gonna worry about you on the job, that’s all,” he said. Jo flickered at a rueful frown.

“That’s ironic,” she said. “I can handle myself, Dean. Something you so often seem to forget.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he shot back. His hand tightened around his beer.

Jo’s face fell into irritation, mostly to cover up the hurt he saw buried deep behind her eyes. She gave him some relief by glancing away from him.

“And this is why we didn’t work out,” she muttered. Sighing through her nose, her eyes met his again. “You know what I hate, more than anything? People worrying.”

Dean carded his fingers through his hair, his brows knitting together in aggravation.

“Yeah, well, maybe they have good reason to,” he said. He could’ve predicted the way she tightened up. “And if I remember right, you did your fair share of hand-wringing the next time I responded to a fire on the job.”

He knew it was a low blow. But his point was made, and he fully expected the anger in Jo’s tight frown. They’d dated for a few weeks, mostly in secret.

That had been enough for Ellen to blow her top. Not because she had anything against Dean…just his job: at the very same firehouse her late husband had once served.

So Dean had backed off. He’d ultimately felt he had to end it. And clearly, Jo still resented him for it.

Slowly, however, the fire in her eyes dimmed. Her finger tapped on her side of the bar counter.

“You think I don’t worry anymore just because we’re not together?” she asked him. 

Dean didn’t have a good answer for her. So his gaze fell to his nearly empty beer.

But he was even more relieved when Benny finally got back from the bathroom, or wherever he’d fucked off to for the past few minutes.

He did seem to know that he was interrupting a rather tense moment. Seeing as neither Dean nor Jo wanted to break the silence, Benny supposed it fell on him.

He reclaimed his seat and raised a smile up at Jo.

“I think I’m ready for the next round,” he said, glancing at Dean’s soured mood. “Two whiskeys, please, Joanna.”

Jo treated Benny with a half-smile. He was the only one besides her mother who called her Joanna (and got away with it). After one last look at Dean, she reached over for the Jim Beam.

You met Andréa at the bar in your own car, just in case you needed to dip out early to check on Grandpa George. He was happy to see you going out.

“You’re pretty as a doll, sweetheart,” he’d said, patting your cheek after you kissed his goodbye.

The thought made you smile, even though you thought you were dressed casually in your dark wash jeans and blouse. When Andréa met you outside the bar, she nodded in approval.

“Good. I like the hint of sexy,” she said, plucking at the sweetheart neckline of your top. You rolled your eyes and tried to cover up the cleavage a little, but she batted at your hand.

“No, no. Leave your professionalism at work,” she said. “Tonight, you’re going to relax and have some fun.”

It was hard to think about loosening up when you were literally getting belittled and threatened at work…but you supposed she had a point. You always had to be put together. You had to be sharp, because this world wouldn’t hand you anything on a silver platter.

And not to mention, you couldn’t just think about yourself. You also had to provide and take care of your grandfather too. He was the only family you had left, and you were it for him too…

But you took in a slow, deep breath. Tonight, you could have a couple of drinks with your friend. You could just be yourself, with no responsibilities other than not getting too drunk to drive yourself home later.

So with a sigh, you smiled and linked your arm with Andréa as you headed inside the Roadhouse.

It looked kind of divey from the outside, a worn-looking brown building with a faded red sign. But inside it was all dark wood and leather barstools and rows of soft lighting overhead.

There were records displayed on the wall; Prince’s Purple Rain, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, and David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, among others. Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” played on the wall speakers.

There were several tables, both high top and regular four-seaters, as well as a long bar that spanned the far wall, where rows and rows of liquor were showcased. You followed Andréa’s lead to the bar, where you took a seat at the far end and tried to feel like you belonged here. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to a place like this.

“This is nice,” she leaned over into your ear to say. “Next time my cousin should meet us here. She’s a handful, but I think you’d like her.”

You agreed with a smile. “If she’s anything like you, I think I’m well trained to handle your brand of insanity.”

Andréa leveled you with a playfully mocking look.

“Ah, you’ve got jokes tonight. Okay.” She waved over the blonde bartender.

“Hi, ladies,” she greeted. “I’m Jo. What’re we starting off with tonight?”

Before you could order for yourself, Andréa grabbed your arm and spoke over you.

“Do you have absinthe?” she asked.

Your eyes widened. “What?! I’m not drinking that—”

“Sure do,” Jo replied in amusement.

“Great,” said Andréa. You didn’t like her sly grin. “She’ll have an Aunt Roberta. I’ll have a vodka cranberry.”

“What the hell is an Aunt Roberta?” you asked.

Jo listed the ingredients on her fingers. “A nice molotov of brandy, vodka, gin, blackberry liqueur, and of course, absinthe.”

Jesus Christ. You shot Andréa a glare, even though you were trying to dim your smile.

“Are you trying to chill me out or fucking end me?” you asked.

Andréa smirked. “Whatever it takes.”

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded your agreement. Jo’s smile remained as she went to prepare your drinks. Meanwhile, your eyes wandered as you once again took in your surroundings.

Really is a cool place, you thought. And it was busy without being overbearingly crowded. There were even a few seats between you and the rest of the patrons at the bar. Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

AN: *rubs hands together* It begins. 😏

Lol how'd you like Dean's little moment with the reader at the firehouse? Plus the introduction of the rest of our cast!

(And a possible serial killer on the loose?) Though sorry about Nick. He's a douchecanoe.

Next Time:

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said.

Keep Reading: PART 3

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#Lieutenant Winchester #Smoke Eater #Part 2 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #castiel #benny lafitte #john winchester #Meg Masters #Jack Kline #Gordon Walker #chuck shurley #jo harvelle #ellen harvelle #andrea kormos #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

[myslvtwritings]

BLINKS. Ok so laikkkk. You know how Muzan has that fake wife? IMAGINE LIKE um reader or whatever the fuck it’s called?! FINDING OUT and she’s just standing infront of Muzan Like 🧍🏻‍♀️yo wtf. DOES THIS MAKE SENSE

YES THIS MAKES SENSE! thank you for requesting😭😭

➤ Fem!Reader finding out about Muzan’s fake wife

➤ SFW headcanons (not proof read)

Muzan kibutsuji x Fem!reader

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•

•

warnings: kinda angsty also reader does not take shit from men (💀💀)

Man oh man.

Livid would be an understatement..

Muzan knows you can be scary.

After all, you’re one of those women who doesn’t take shit from men, you’re fiercely independent, you petrify the demon king himself with your audacious and captivating personality.

It was one of the things that attracted this walking menace towards you in the first place.

Now, Muzan does love you, so do not overthink and assume he actually loves his little false wife.

Oh, he couldn’t give a shit about her. But fake wife or not, you’d still consider it cheating.

In hindsight, he knew it was wrong but that didn’t stop him.

Anyway, that thought of you finding out his secret always loomed in the back of his mind.

However, he brushes this off, foolishly thinking this isn’t a humongous deal and you wouldn’t find out.

My god, he couldn’t have been more wrong. It’s embarrassing really..

No one knows how on god mother earth you found out but that night when Muzan returns home you confront him about it immediately. You aren’t going to sugar coat this for him nor pretend like you didn’t catch him in the act? pfft, only pussies do that.

But to be blunt you probably found out because you caught him kissing her in the entertainment district

“Oh, welcome home, dear! Now, do you mind telling me about your second wife? Or am i the second wife?”

Muzan’s response is silence at first. That being the dead giveaway.

You’re honestly just confused, like he already has you?? Why does he need to have this lil side hoe??

Deep down, you’re honestly hurt but you do a pretty damn good job at covering it up with that sarcastic smile of yours.

Meanwhile, Muzan denies it.

This only adds more fuel to the fire.

LIKE YOU CAN FEEL YOIR BLOOD BOILING.

No way he just lied to your face.

I mean, yeah, Muzan is a malicious demon at the end of the day so of course his interpretation on the human population is going to be fucked up on so many levels.

Thinks all humans are naive and incredibly stupid.

Besides you of course.

But the man isn’t a brainless amateur either he knows you’re different from the rest. Another reason why he actually has romantic feelings towards you.

Anyway, since you’re a girl boss, you obviously call him out on his bullshit lies and it provokes full blown fight between y’all.

You try to fight back tears, all these feelings are too much for you to bare.

You’re honestly crying because of how damn frustrating it is.

It’s also important to add Muzan has never witnessed you cry.

Feels guilty now but doesn’t dare to express it.

You manage to soothe your nerves down and continuously debunk the situation.

In the end, you have him backed up into a corner.

Then you proceed to reveal how you found out.

Muzan realizes that he can no longer escape this situation nor lie to you any longer.

Admitting his defeat, he confesses how he obtains a fake wife but doesn’t even feel anything towards her.

Muzan reassures you that he only has eyes for you, only feels these feelings towards you, assures you that he and his fake wife have nothing serious and that he only uses her to blend in with humanity.

You hear him out, listening to his explanation but then ask why he couldn’t just use you to blend in??

His response is that he desires to keep you safe and secured, if the slayers knew you were his weak point they’d definitely kill you so there is his explanation for cheating.

Bro just doesn’t want to lose you. Witnessing your murder would be his demise.

You calm down entirely, however, you aren’t 100% okay with him having a fake wife.

So you just give him an out.

Like, “it’s either her or me” you express in a very sharp tone to show how serious you are about this.

Of course he chooses you, after all, he always would.

Dislikes how you posses this much control over him. Your dominate nature doesn’t sit right with him.

But kudos to you!! He murdered divorced said wife and now there are no more issues. But you still are upset with him even awhile after that. Yeah, you aren’t going to move past it too quickly and because he’s such a manipulative narcissist your guard is always up around him.

But i mean who can blame you? You’re dating the demon king after all.

THIS WAS LOW-KEY ENJOYABLE TO WRITE!? i hope it meets your expectations and i hope this made sense! I’m working on multiple requests right now but this one was easier and faster to write due to it only being one character.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer headcanons #kny headcanons #kny demons #upper moons #demon slayer demons #uppermoon headcanons #muzan #muzan kibutsuji #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan headcanons #muzan kibutsuji headcanons #muzan x you #muzan x y/n #muzan x reader #uppermoons x reader #kny demons x reader #kny demons headcanons #xyzbca #demon slayer anime #demon slayer manga #fem!reader #x reader #angst #sfw #muzan angst

[chrollohearttags]

𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

one year has passed since the rising star and influencer (y/n) (l/n) said ‘I do’ to industry veteran and artist galore, Eren Jaeger. Better known by his moniker, EJ the Don. With busy, conflicting schedules, press releases and new business ventures, the couple finds themselves dealing with the woes of married life in the spotlight. As well as more time apart than the pair would have hoped. Amid rumors of indefinitely and talks of early divorce circulating, the couple decide to treat themselves to a second honeymoon, where they reignite not only their love and passion for one another but learn new things about each other as well.

content warning: black fem reader, slight angst, tiny conflict (not much bc I hate seeing my babies fight) lots of fluff, passionate/sensual sex, alcohol use, praise kink, affirmations, eren speaking fluent Italian, eren and being a complete romantic, ice and food play, choking, fingering, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), breeding (slight pregnancy mentions), foot play, crying (not dacryphilia) this is a super long fic and it’s equal parts porn and plot, so you might be here a while!

“Till death do us part, right? Well they’d have to kill me to keep me from loving you, mi amor..even then, I’d still find my way back to you in a million lives over.”

📝: said I was going to sleep as soon as I got from work but y’all have rewired and altered my brain chemistry with this headcanon so please enjoy. I hope I have done it justice! Also, minors stay the FUCK off my page.

word count: 6.8K

PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT

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the boisterous sounds of blazing jet engines roared through the pillowy clouds and clear skies of the Boeing 747’s spacious cabin. Delicacies scattered about across the table, courtesy of the flight attendants on board; consisting of champagne, hors d'oeuvres and a few desserts…just a few of the many amenities provided on the thirteen hour flight from your hometown of Miami. The destination? Well…that had been left a surprise, thanks to your husband! The only inkling of a clue was a bouquet of white lilies and a card with a red star tucked between them, left on the kitchen counter. All incredibly vague, and seemingly left as some sort of subliminal message by him but your mind was drawing nothing more than a blank. Now here you were jetsetting halfway across the world without the slightest idea where you’d be going. Your only instructions were to pack for a couple week’s stay and prepare for the best vacation of your life. Words that had been stuck within your mind all week as you made arrangements..postponing gigs and photo shoots, backing out of a club appearance on shorter notice than you’d ever hope for but expressing sincere remorse for having to do so. Telling any potential party goers via an Instagram live that something came up but you’d be making it up to them the second you touched back down.

truthfully, as professional as you were..nothing took precedence over your relationship and as things stood between the two of you, it was best to accept this offer of his. (Y/N) (L/N) and Eren Jaeger, a union that shocked the world and damn near collapsed the internet when it was first announced over two years ago. Blogs and fan pages seemingly appearing every five seconds to document the events of your dating journey as they unfolded in the public eye. To the candids of you sitting pretty in the passenger seat of his McLaren as it was spotted on a strip of South Beach, to a rare appearance of him showing up on the award show carpet, clutching your hand to the wedding that shook the world; a beautiful ceremony rivaled by that of fairy tales. That had you front and center on The Shade Room, Hollywood Unlocked and a plethora of other publications, being dubbed as a ‘modern day Cinderella’. As the girl from humble beginnings who used to hang out at the corner stores and was raised in the hood to marrying your musical prodigy sweetheart; helping reform his image of the bad boy loner to beloved husband. But as with anything in the media, after a while, the narratives begin to change. The same people singing your praises were now putting out false headlines, claiming that there was a trouble afoot in your newly formed matrimony. And granted, your trust, love and bond were as strong as ever..they were just being tested beyond their limits right now! Especially since he had been away on tour with his crew overseas not too long ago and you had been jetsetting to various islands for a music video and two big photo shoots with major magazines. Although exciting, it was pulling you away from the one you loved..and you hated it. Hated that people were praying and wishing that you’d break up because they felt you’d been married too soon and would fall pregnant, ruining the ‘hot girl’ imagery they’d concocted or that you were only with him for the clout and his namesake. Which was insane because you guys were certainly the most tame and in love when it came to a lot of new age celebrity couples. Only making money, making love and having fun. It was all baseless accusations he was hoping to put an end to with this impromptu trip. Not for their sake, but yours.

he could see how heavily all of it was weighing on you and needless to say, the mental anguish was putting a strain on the once perfect partnership you two had. Resisting the urge to address it all at his request and it wasn’t exactly easy when your livelihood quite literally depended on keeping your followers in the know of every aspect of your life. Or so they thought!

“You know, you’d feel a lot better if you put that phone down. You don’t owe those assholes anything..not even your time.”

this most recent scandal in particular came as rumors began to circulate that EJ was sleeping with his ex when the two performed an older song they did while together out in Sweden. The dedicated fan girls of the former pair began bashing you and saying awful things of how you had ‘ruined their ship’. That you’d never be her. Sad part was, you were starting to believe it yourself. Which in turn, caused an all out war between your fanbase; defending your honor and his devout followers, who felt you weren’t good enough. Of course, he wasn’t worried at all! He never was. Not when he had all he wanted right here and he wasn’t going to let a bunch of weird, obsessed bitches ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“Yeah..” the dry response leaving your pouty lips as you took another sip of the chilled bubbly in your glass. “I know..” Eyes averted out of the window before you felt yourself being spun around by his gentle hand cupping your chin. Placing a gentle peck on your forehead and a few on your palm. Scooting closer to you on the leather couch, Eren kept a soft grasp on your hand, fixating his gaze on you. “Listen..I get it. Having people talk shit about you when they don’t know the first thing about your life is irritating and it’ll piss you off. Everybody’s got an opinion on something, everyone thinks they have some profound fucking insight into our relationship, into who you are as a person and annoying as it is…who cares? We know it’s not true so why even trip like that? As much as you don’t wanna hear it, it’s something you’ll have to get used to. They’ve been doing this shit to me since my first mixtape came out and it’s not going away anytime soon.” “So I’m just supposed to be fine with people calling me out of my name and making shit up? That’s not fair, Eren. They’re taking this too far and I’m tired. I just wanna say some—“

it wasn’t long before tears began to well in your eyes and he wasn’t going to stand for it, quite frankly. Reaching over into your lap, he’d grab your phone swiftly before you could even react and press the power button, turning the device off. You were everything he could’ve ever prayed for in a wife but damnit, if you weren’t the most stubborn ass woman he had ever met! “Hey! Why’d you?—“ “Because if you sit around addressing every bullshit ass rumor these people make about you, you’d be here all day.” The frustration visible all over his face, as well as the disappointment. “I..I just want you to be happy, (y/n). You’ve barely even smiled since I came back from tour and all of this started. I love you and I don’t know what else to do to prove that. Does all that shit really matter more to you than what I say? Do these people online really mean more to you than me? I get it’s your job and all, and I told you I’m cool with whatever you have to do but..I don’t like what it’s doing to you..what it's doing to us.” You’d never seen or heard him look so sad and instantly, you felt regret for bringing these stupid issues on what was supposed to be a dream getaway. An escape from it all and you were ruining everything! Pulling him close, you’d begin to giggle as you placed a kiss to his cheek, letting a few of your stray tears fall.

“Of course not, baby. God, I’m so sorry..I’ve been really selfish about all of this..I was too busy being upset that I didn’t even realize what I was doing. You know what? You’re right. It doesn’t even matter..let’s just enjoy ourselves and have a good time, okay? No more distractions or work..or any of this shit.” “You promise?” Questioning while wiping away your tears. “I promise..” That seemed to be all that he was looking to hear. The sheer joy creeping across his face the moment he saw you he saw you genuinely smile. The only thing that would make this all the more worth it in his opinion. “That’s more like it…” holding his hand up, signaling for you guys to do your little signature handshake, the same one that had become a staple in his pre-performance ritual and now you were using it to seal your declaration. Intertwining your fingers with your wedding bands in the process. Kissing you right afterwards with tiny pecks..not wanting to let go but at least he had garnered a happier reaction. Mumbling sweet ‘I love you’s’ against one another’s muffled lips. How could you possibly be concerned with anything else when you had this amazing man sitting in front of you?!

“Now…are you going to tell me where we’re headed?” If you hadn’t known any better, you’d sworn that Eren’s little plan was all premeditated; perfect timing as he asked you to glare out of the window, only to be met with the sight of an airplane hangar and a sign with the words ‘Welcome To Venice’ inscribed on it. Italy! A place that you had always spoken about visiting. On your bucket list in fact! “Oh my gosh…EJ..seriously?! What the—“ “Seriously. Happy anniversary, princess.” As it had been one year to the day since the inception of your official union. What was supposed to be the original destination of your honeymoon was now the location of your one year commemoration. The sheer excitement that surged through you was indescribable but little did you know…the best was just around the corner. What lied in store for you this week, was a world full of love, laughter and unexpected surprises!…ones you’d never suspect either..

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time skip and page break

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after a fairly lengthy flight, the small conflict that arose right before your arrival…and the impromptu ‘make up session’ that nearly left you two disheveled, the vacation was finally underway. You and your beloved would be spending the next week and a half touring all of Italy. With the first destination on the docket being your main stay, Venice. The illustrious City of Love (technically, it’s Verona, but we’ll go with it for this). Infamous for its captivating scenery, several canals and romantic origins. A place where even the most stoic and stone hearted would find themselves swooning. The ideal place for a couple to reconnect and focus solely on one another. Once touching down, the two of you wasted no time exploring the sights, taking everything in and just enjoying this gorgeous city. Instantly, your mood perked up and was only coupled by that when you began visiting the historic landmarks; from Saint Mark’s Basilica to the famed Rialto Bridge, where one of the city’s most frequented canals ran and the famed boat tours took place. “You know what? I think this might be my next tape cover. They can edit me on the Vatican next to the Pope, we can put you in a nun’s outfit with ya’ ass out, doing at least twenty thousand on the first day.” The wild statement followed by a loud roar of thunder in the sky. “God, that was his idea, not mine. Please don’t strike me down.” Visiting local shops, trying a variety of food and snacks and really just enjoying each other’s company. “Cannolis! My granny used to make these things all the time. And the tiramisu..babe, you have to try this.” “Alright, you know I got a bad sweet tooth. I’ll have my suitcase loaded with these, don’t get me started..” You guys were soaking in so much, it felt surreal. Having only been recently of celebrity status, (y/n) wasn’t used to traveling to all these places but you had begun to build a repertoire of destination spots. And Eren truthfully had only been here once, but only for a press release. This was the first time in forever that he was truly living life from behind a booth or microphone. And nothing was better than doing so from beside his beautiful bride. Who he was proud to display! Whipping out his phone and yours to snap a plethora of photos to commemorate the occasion. Your outfit coordinated perfectly with the location and he looked as sexy as ever, even in something so casual. Making you pose and model in true influencer fashion. “Your Instagram is about to love this. You look so damn good.” “You’re so sweet, pumpkin but I think we’re in these people’s way.” But trust, they had no issue when they recognized who was behind the lens and asked for pictures of their own with the both of you. “EJ! EJ!” They’d chant.. “(Y/N)! Oh my gosh..” “siamo grandi fan.” “Grazie!” Telling you guys that they were huge fans and you were extremely humbled. All in all, it was a pretty solid first day!

rounding out the evening with a private dinner near the canal, surrounded by the water and soothing sounds of ambient music, played by the band. Flickering candlelight surrounding your faces, plates of delectable appetizers setting before you and a bottle of wine, along with freshly poured glasses nearby. It may have been the first time in a very long time that the two of you had been on a proper date; no distractions to interfere. Getting the chance to just sit down and soak in one another..only bringing out your phone to capture more aesthetically pleasing photos to later curate your feed and flex a little on those that swore it was trouble in paradise. Including a picture of your right hands; wedding rings on display over a plate that had ‘happy anniversary’ inscribed in chocolate. Showing off those designer threads you sported out to dinner…his all black ensemble, complimenting your own. And of course, the gifts he copped in lieu of celebrating your nuptials. But right now, your only focus was Eren. That handsome face, those tattooed hands extended out over the table to reach for yours as you guys talked and reminisced on past experiences. Especially your very first time out together! Which had the two of you cackling.

“And they ended up having a fire alarm at the restaurant so we had to evacuate. You remember that?”

“I couldn’t forget. You were so pissed..we were starving and everything was so packed, we said fuck it and went to Sonic instead.”

“God, and the dude who came out to take our order made a scene about us being there..I was actually embarrassed for once. I just wanted my damn chili dog in peace. He was cool as hell though.”

thinking back to the simpler times in you guys’ lives and how you longed to just have more nights, riding around Miami Beach, holding hands in the front seat of the Wraith..just vibing without a care in the world. Shutting everyone else out…hence why you were here now. Just falling in love all over again. And from the way you hadn’t stopped laughing since you landed, he could most certainly write off day one of this trip off as a success! However..it was merely getting started as far as he was concerned. Because there was so much more he had to expose you to. Show you the side of him he hadn’t gotten to previously. “You know, I just wanted to say, (y/n)..I’m sorry about earlier. The last thing I ever wanted was to invalidate how you felt or pretend it didn’t matter. I’ve been doing this so long, I’m used to letting things slide off of my back or pretending I don’t give a damn. I’m learning everyday to be a lil’ more considerate, y’know? I thought everyone else would feel the same. I just hated the idea of seeing you worry so much..I adore you more than life itself and I just want you to know..that you’re the only person in this world I want to spend the rest of forever with.” With his hand clutching yours, glaring down at the table, Eren reached over for his glass and grasped the stem..hoisting it in the air for a toast and you’d follow suit. “To my beautiful bride, my wife, the future mother of my kids..my everything..I love you, (y/n).” His sweet words alone nearly sent you into hysterics as no one had ever spoken to you in such a way. Showered you with so much praise; stomach ablaze with butterflies and made your heart flutter with pure joy. EJ was never much for expressing his feelings or being vulnerable but you brought it out. Gave him that place to grow and be a better man. “And I love you, more than I could ever put into words. You are everything I could’ve ever imagined and living proof that God answers prayers. The man that came into my world one day, and is now my entire universe. I am not only proud but honored to be Mrs. Jaeger.” Making his cheeks illuminate red with your kind words. With that quick exchange of makeshift mini vows, the two of you clinked the glasses together and let the liquor glide down your throats. This was truly a breath of fresh air and the best night you’d had in a long time.

it was only when the waiter would return to ensure that all was to your liking that you’d be met with yet another surprise from your beau. The waiter began asking him a question, something about the meal and suddenly, you’d hear him respond: “grazie mille, tutto è perfetto.” The words flowed so casually from between his lips, it caught you by surprise..yet, it was nothing to him. He’d continue on speaking to the man in fluent conversation before he walked away. Turning back towards you like normal. Which brought up a soft chuckle from your end. “What’s the matter, princess? What’re you laughing about?” “Okay, Mr. Bilingual. You never told me you spoke Italian and so perfectly too.”

but like many other talents of his, Eren attempted to downplay the whole thing and wave you off. You’d be even more shocked to find out he was actually trilingual..with a bit of German underneath his belt as well. “It’s nothing, just a little something I picked up from my granny and mom when I was a kid. And I took a few lessons here and there.” But something told you that he was far more versed in the language than he was letting on. So much so, (y/n) shot him a glare and batted those pretty little lashes. “Well I like it. Say something else.” Seeing how swayed you were by the little display, he’d decide to do something special. “Yeah? Good to know.” It was such a romantic language and nothing would be more swoon worthy than a dance underneath the moonlight as he sang into your ear. Waving the waiter back over, he’d whisper something to him in Italian yet again before extending his hand across the table. “May I have this dance, mi amor?” In that moment, your cheeks burned and your body went flush with happiness. Gladly accepting. That much you understood! “Why, yes sir, you may..” Helping you to your feet, he’d circulate until the two of you conjoined as one in a cradle. His arm rests at the small of your back and yours on his shoulder as your opposite hands intertwine. Those beautiful green eyes glaring at you as if you were a precious jewel..one he wanted to protect and cherish. Swaying you back and forth to the rhythm of the music, head pressed to his chest as he held you close. Then something even sweeter happened…

“Wait…I recognize this song—“ and indeed you should have, as it were the song you guys danced to at your wedding. The instrumental created by the orchestra is spot on. But the best part was when you heard the lyrics being recited back to you in such a beautiful voice..and the language of the country! “uno, è come un sogno che si avvera. Due, voglio solo stare con te.”

Eren serenading you with his absolutely amazing voice along with his mother tongue was not something you’d ever expected but you were ascending to cloud nine right now. Tilting your chin up with the tip of his finger, he’d peer down at your pretty face and kiss you once more. “You’re so beautiful, princess. I don’t know how I got so lucky..” but you had the same sentiment! He truly was one of a kind. You’d spend the next twenty minutes or so dancing about under the stars, being entranced by the various renditions of your favorite love songs. “Talk to me again, baby? I love the way you speak to me..” And honestly, lost in one another. Filling your ear with sweet nothings in that second language..telling you how much he loved you and how beautiful you looked. “voglio solo stare qui per sempre con te..” Along with subtle touches to your thigh as he raised the hem of your dress or lowered his hand residing on your back. Suave and smoother than ever. He had put so much thought and care into it; this only being the first twenty four hours of it had you stoked to see what else he could possibly have in store..there was no way this could be topped!..

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:.･*:｡.･*:｡.･

or so you had thought when you made it back to the hotel you were staying at for the duration of this excursion. The Gritti Palace, Venice’s most popular resort for tourists and celebrities alike. Its gorgeous architecture and rich background..all a way to draw people in. And you were sold the second you came through the door. But the master suite he had booked? It was reminiscent of something from a fairy tale. You couldn’t believe this was real! An hour or so had passed..and while you were getting checked back in, your husband was making some other arrangements. Such as getting a trail of roses strewn from the entrance to the bathroom, ending in the bedroom across the mattress where it had a rather sweet message inscribed, chocolate covered strawberries sitting near the bedside, a bucket of ice, and a bathtub full of bubbles where the two of you were now. Sipping on glasses of Ace of Spades whilst your feet rested against his chest. His hand gently massaging your instep and rubbing on the soles as he kissed the perimeter of it. Subtly suckling at those white painted toes. Your bodies submerged into the sheath of foamy soap. “So, what you think of your first time in Italy? Meet your expectations?” The question was all but rhetorical. You were blown away by everything he had done so far and looking forward to what was coming. “Exceed is more like it. I can’t believe you planned all of this, just for us…” Eren would merely chuckle as he watched you with deep seeded, lustful eyes from afar..you still nursing your drink and him massaging your legs. “I told you, I’d do anything to make my baby smile..anything.” Saying so with much conviction and a rather suave voice. The look on his face, that of one signaling for something a little more. And trust, it didn’t take long for you to pick up the hint. Seeing as how he had wooed you and worked so hard to make this dream destination possible..you couldn’t help but to want to return the favor.. “..you’re too good to me.” And it was apparent exactly what he was in the mood for at the moment. Raising a hand from beneath the water, Eren took his index and middle fingers; both wrapped with silver bands and tattoos and waved you over. To which you’d maneuver and crawl over onto his lap. “Oh, I’m just getting started..” Swaddling you in his muscular arms as he brought you down for a kiss. Your tongues slowly intertwine in sloppy pecks. (Y/N) eventually brought your hands to the back of his neck and began to straddle his lap in the process. “Mmm..is that right?” “..come find out.” Faint moans filled the air of the bathroom and eventually, what started out as a simple bubble bath had evolved into a full blown make out session. The water underneath your bodies sloshing around as a result of the not so subtle movements you were making..his hands scouring the perimeter of your ass; only to leave it with a sharp smack afterwards. “Ooh!..damn..” And you rubbing yourself against his obvious erect..the friction driving you both insane. So much so, he had to make the next move. “I want you so bad..”

admitting through baited breath as he lifted you from the tub and the two of you made a beeline for the bed. Your sud soaked bodies entangled on the fluffy mattress. It was almost instinct for your legs to spread in his presence..honestly, you had never felt the attraction and lust for any man that you had for your husband. But that’s what happened when he made you feel so safe..secure and loved. Not to mention..so sexy. Eren’s palms trailed further south and circled slowly all over that frame while he made home between your thighs. “God..you’re so perfect…reminds me of our wedding night. I’ll never forget the look in your eyes when I took off that veil..” confessing as he hovered over you, rubbing your cheek with a gentle brush. Those gorgeous brown eyes agleam with pure adoration for him. “Look up at me, baby?..” And he was equally as excited. His lips split into a wide grin..laughing with that thumb brushing over your lip before parting them and sliding inside. “..yeah, that’s the one. So damned beautiful..I just wanted to stay inside of you forever.” Truthfully, Eren could go on for hours about that night. Despite all of the hookups and hot sex you two had, all of them paled in comparison to the night that you consummate your marriage. To the night that you officially became his forever person. When you told him it was his, he knew it was real this time and that there was no chance of ever losing it. By the time you finished, you were both a wreck. Holding hands and exchanging tears of joy and wedded bliss. He wanted to not only relive that wonderful sensation but to create something far more special. With your palms cradling the back of his head, (y/n) stared lovingly; your fingers tangled in his chocolate colored locks before lowering it to the point that you were mere inches apart. You’d utter to him in a faint whimper: “..take me, Eren..it’s yours, baby. Make love to me the way you did that night.” And that was all of the motivation he needed. Splaying you across the silk sheets, taking a moment just to examine the beauty that was before him. A goddess-like figure, gorgeous brown skin rivaling that of Godiva..you were the living proof that angels existed. Diving deeper between your thighs, he’d bend further, pressing a bit of his weight down as your tongues meshed yet again. Feeding each other sloppy, slow kisses..ones that had each of your bodies ablaze with pleasure. Moaning one another’s names and brushing each other’s skin. When he finally withdrew back, he’d tug your bottom lip with his teeth gently before leaning up and reaching over to the bucket on the bedside. Filled to the brim with cubes of ice, Eren would casually place it between his fingertips whilst hovering over you. His mind was racing a million miles a minute. Normally, he’d already be buried seven inches deep inside of you with your nails scraping his shoulder blades but tonight..tonight was special. You required a lot more subtlety and care. To be romanced..teased and brought right to the edge until you could no longer take anymore and then, he’d take your body to heights never before felt! But first, he had some ideas and that much was told by the devious smirk on his face.

“You wanna know what one of the most beautiful parts are about being married? Is learning all about the other person..finding out something new everyday..” while he was speaking, that frozen little square made its way from your trembling lips, down your neck and to your breasts, where he circled them stagnantly against your nipples, which made you whimper and suck your teeth. He could see the little brown buds growing harder almost instantaneously.. “..what you like, what you don’t and my favorite part?..” and when he lowered his head to flick his tongue across them, he’d trail his hand south “..What turns you on.” simultaneously and let his fingers explore those folds. Soaking wet with arousal, all for him. Mainly due in part to his switch in vernacular earlier in the day. He could easily see how you were lovingly...and lustfully glaring at him when he began to fill your head and ears with Italian. How buttery smooth the words flowed from his tongue with no pause. How charming he was with it..you had never seen him so suave before. Make no mistake, he could get you out of your panties off of the simplest things but this hit so differently. “So..I’ll take as long as I need to. Stay here all night..touching, kissing and rubbing alllll over this pretty body..” and it was then that you felt that free hand move to your throat whilst that ice sat dormant in the center of your abdomen and he’d pull you close, whispering: “finché non impazzisci per tutto questo cazzo..”

naturally, you’d have no way of knowing what he just said to you but the way he lightly chuckled and placed a kiss to your jawline, you knew he was about to be a problem and that it had to be some freaky shit. So with that very hot declaration, he’d resume cooling you down with that clear cube; lapping up the remnants in all the places he had previously placed it. Taking extra time to fixate on those tender nipples. His warm breath on the chilled area as he gently suckled..even taking them between his teeth for a moment. Meanwhile, that ice landed on your mound and with a single pop to your skin, he’d part those legs even wider so he had room to run it down your thighs. Slowly guiding that frozen chunk all over your legs. A string of your moans growing louder and he’d be quick to quell them with a few pecks. But he wasn’t much in the way of wanting to quiet you down. He wanted to hear those sweet cries..to know that he was doing a good job. He could see that swollen clit protruding out for him and as badly as he wanted to spit on it and suck the little bud, he wanted to also make you climax before he even so much as put the tip in. Which he’d plan to make happen by finally moving the ice to your sensitive hood..circling it and whilst you were preoccupied, he’d slide a couple fingers into that tightness that was previously spasming on air. “Oh my gosh, ‘ren..baby..” your voice, shaky from the feeling of the cold brushing your skin. “I know, baby..but look. Look how wet you are for me already..that’s my girl.” Still lapping on your nipples and rubbing you with that ice. All his limbs worked in tandem to bring you unbelievable pleasure and all you had to do was keep laying your pretty ass right there, moaning. That grip around his digits only grew tighter when he commended you for how well you were taking him. It became apparent to him early on how much being praised made your heart and pussy flutter for him. You’d eventually find yourself fucking those fingers as that ice melted into your dripping warmth..coagulating with the rest of your wetness. Eren would then reach over for a secondary piece which he placed on your titties yet again. By this time, you were a salivating, stimulated mess..eyes faltering back in the process as his middle and ring fingers remained sunken into that needy heat. “I’m gonna come..fuck yessss. Right there..” He was thoroughly enjoying watching you come undone at his hands. He knew he had you exactly where he wanted and it didn’t help when you’d hear him pose yet another question that had you twitching and craving more. The aggression and passion in his voice oozed pure sex appeal. “Sì? verrai per me, mami? vuoi fare un pasticcio su queste lenzuola? sulle mie fottute dita?” Knowing you had not the first clue what he was asking but it was getting you hot and bothered..so much so, you were about to drench his entire forearm. Uttering all of this as he kept a tight grip around your throat and the other fingers plunged inside of you. Your mouth agape and jaw slack while exchanging wet kisses. Even swapping spit as he glared into your eyes. “Just nod your head, baby…say yes. You’ll do anything I ask, won’t you? You don’t even need to think about it, isn’t that, right?” “Yes, daddy! Whatever you want..”

crying out as you clawed into his arm and shook within his grasp. (Y/N) began to gasp, breathing heavily and he’d pump a bit faster. From there, you could barely contain yourself. Drool trickling down your chin, tears streaming down your face and your feet dangling in the air as you found yourself clawing into the backs of your own legs; folded up on instinct. “Then come, baby..let it out..” Withdrawing his hand at the same time. When he did so, he found himself met with a shower of sweet liquids..spurting out until he unplugged your tightness entirely and allowed you to flood his hand and eventually, his face. “Ooh..! ‘Rennnn..okaaaay!” Before you knew it, he had your legs locked into a hold and his face buried in that pretty pussy. Sucking on your clit, nose scouring your cunt and the sounds of his moans humming against your sex. But not before he so casually stuck one of those strawberries between your teeth as a way to pacify you.

“Mmmm..it feels good, don’t it, baby?” Questioning while spitting down into your entrance. He was always so nasty when it came to eating your pussy; digging that same saliva out with the tip of his tongue. His long hair tangled between those long nails. That fruit puckered between your lips before he’d lean up and get a taste of both you and it. “So good…God, I love the way you eat this pussy.” Chuckling in disbelief of how amazing it all felt. Which in turn boosted his ego tenfold. He loved when you talked to him and more so sang his praises. “Right there, baby..put that tongue in it..ooh fuck. I’mma come again..” meanwhile, Eren had reached underneath his body and began stroking his cock to the sounds of your voice. It always got him so hard…and soon, he wouldn’t be able to withstand another second of not being inside of you. “I’m cool with that.” Leaning up in a swift like motion, only to flip you over onto your side and mount himself behind you. Taking one leg into the air and his shaft in the other palm to rub it momentarily. That thick length slapping against your slit..drumming up that gorgeous slick. “As long as you do it on this dick. You can make a mess all you want.” Gritting his teeth against your jawline before pushing himself inside with a gentle grip to the back of your neck, keeping you reigned in and entirely focused on him. “Right there..” sucking his teeth as he made home inside of that clamping flesh. And it felt as if it were the very first time all over again! “Fuck…così stretto..baby. la figa è così buona..” causing you to giggle at the sensuality in his accent. Coiling his arms around your torso and holding you close, Eren would begin to thrust into you..feeding you deep strokes almost instantly. As if he had been dying all day to be one with you. And now that he was, he didn’t want to let go..didn’t want to leave you ever again. Gripping his forearm, (y/n) gently grazed those fingertips into his skin; marking it up. Eventually, that gently paced pounding turned to you being fucked relentlessly. His arm coiling you in a makeshift headlock, his lips pressed to your ear and his balls slapping up against your ass. Already, he had caused you to start creaming all over him, which always drove him mad. Made him want to fill you with some of his own…

“Ahh! Eren…baby..” he then realized just how hard he was going and had to dial it back a couple notches. As to not hurt you or blow his load too early. He wanted to savor this moment…savor the sensation of being immersed in your warmth. “Sorry, sorry, baby..I got a lil’ carried away. But I just can’t help it.” Clutching your jaw between his fingertips and lightly squeezing, trying to keep you coherent. Even so, he was buried to the hilt..trying to hit the inner corner of your cervix. So much so, a slight bulge began to form at the pit of your stomach. But as he continued, you’d feel him reach down to massage your aching little bud. “You feel so good…look so pretty when I’m fucking on you..” mumbling on and whimpering as he began to throb and lose his pace. It wouldn’t be long before he filled you up but not until he finished bragging about his beloved. Telling you how wet it was, how you made him never want to pull out and how he wanted to give you his child. Just losing his mind in it..even breaking into a bit of tears as he neared his climax.

“Voglio entrare così in profondità in quella figa, sarai così carina con il mio dado che gocciola fuori da te..”

it wasn’t long before he was helping you rub your own out and you found yourself coming undone, releasing all over his pelvis and your own thighs. As well as the sheets and did you make a mess for him! One that had you quivering and apologizing. And Eren could do nothing more than hold you close and let you ride it out. “It’s okay, mama. Don’t be sorry…I got you…” quelling you with soft kisses. But it wasn’t long after he was the one in need of calming down. Because with you spasming; contracting around his length, he couldn’t slow down afterwards and next thing you knew..

“I’m coming, baby! I’m nutting in that pussy..hold still f’r me..”

“Oh God!…yes..”

clutching you in his arms and shoving his tongue into your mouth as he came inside, pumping your womb with that warm cream; with at least two loads worth and he didn’t let up until it was leaking out and the two of you glared at it together. With faint streams of tears spilling down both of your faces, he’d clasp his fingers with yours and join together. In that moment, nothing else mattered…you were his diamond, his star and the brightest light in his life and nothing would ever dim that for him. With sharp gasps, attempting to regain your breaths, he’d swipe the side of your face and hold you once more. you couldn’t believe how blessed you were to have such a wonderful man. One who was night and day..as tough and stonewalled as he could be..he was even more gentle and caring. Letting that guard down day by day to prove that you were the reason behind his transformation and he was forever grateful to have you in his corner. They could talk on the internet all they pleased, ran with whatever narrative they needed to but the only that existed..in his eyes? Was his princess..his reina

“Till death do us part, right? Well they’d have to kill me to keep me from loving you, mi amor..even then, I’d still find my way back to you in a million lives over.”

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@mxnst3rz @spaceforher @2-c4ndy @l0vr-girl @queendijaaaa @jadasworldpress @ashleemxrie @diorlov3er @tojisblondebimbo @mrssano04 @lostgxrlblog @yungirl-900 @tiazs @intergalactic1thoughts @shamelesshoefairy @sincerlycas

#cherry’s fics 🍒 #aot x black reader #musician eren #musician au #eren x black reader fluff #eren x black yn #eren x black reader smut #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black reader #shingeki no kyoujin eren #attack on titan eren #eren jeager x y/n #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jaeger x black reader smut #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger fic #eren jaeger x y/n #black fem reader #black reader #black reader smut #long fic #black fanfiction #musician x influencer au #aot black reader fluff #musician series #aot fluff #aot au #aot smut #aot imagine

[h-harleybaby]

Ignore this if you’ve done it but matching costumes with the boys… what do YOU think they’d wear as couple costumes with reader

~🍋

STOOOOP THAT WOULD BE ADORABLE AHHHH

I doing the main 4 + Butters because you didn’t specify them :)

Cartman

• Would absolutely suggest doing something vaguely racist, but dw y’all don’t… even if you have to physically shove Cartman into the bathroom to change. He’s probably pissed about it the whole night tbh

• Probably makes you go as a KFC chicken bucket while he’s the Colonel Sanders because he genuinely will not shut the fuck up until you agree to it. It was so stupidly embarrassing

• He would most definitely force you to go to a party so he could show everyone y’alls costumes before dragging you out to go do other things. He really just wanted to brag and embarrass you

• Cartman will absolutely make you go trick or treating with him despite y’alls ages, and y’all stay out sooooo late that people aren’t even out anymore. He refuses to end the night until he hits up everyone’s house and demands all the candy they have

• At the end of the night you guys stop by the dollar and grocery stores to buy all the cheap Halloween candy that’s on sale. Don’t worry you’ll get your cut on the candy too, it’s just a bit… smaller than his cut

Stan

• Stan doesn’t really care enough about Halloween to plan to dress up or literally anything, but if you insist he’ll probably throw something together quickly

• You guys go as Sally and Jack but his part of it is really half assed, he still looks good tho!! It’s just, a lot people couldn’t tell who he was as at first. He probably got so drunk he couldn’t even remember

• Speaking of getting drunk, he throws a costume party because you insisted on doing something for Halloween. You asked, he delivers! Everyone’s there, even people from straight up other neighboring towns. People hear alcohol and and will do whatever to get it

• An almost concerning rowdy party and it wasn’t even from the party goers! It was from Randy swinging on the Chandelier and supplying all the alcohol. Overall a really memorable night… well to most of the people who went

• Like father like son, neither Stan or Randy could remember anything from last night but regardless, they had an unspoken agreement. Never tell Sharon and never speak of it ever again, the night never happened. Well, the pictures you took definitely say otherwise

Kyle

• Sheila insists on buying y’all’s costumes and she gets y’all some peanut butter and jelly costume. Kyle absolutely hates it but he would never tell his mother, thank god he has a job so he could buy something else and just change when you guys leave

• Y’all actually end up going as Morticia and Gomez Addams even though Kyle in general looks a little too colorful to be Gomez cough cough GINGER cough cough but regardless, he tries his best to slick his hair back and hunch over more so he could be shorter than you. It doesn’t work but it’s the thought that counts right?

• Half way through the night hall switched costumes because you didn’t wanna wear heels too long and he wouldn’t have to because of how tall he is. Shelley let him use her hair straightener and you’re pretty sure you burnt off some of his hair but it’s tooooootally fine, absolutely fine (he doesn’t know)

• Kyle was honestly kind of miserable the whole night, he didn’t really WANT to be there but you begged him to do something with you and Halloween and Stan would’ve dragged him to the party regardless if you asked him to go or not

• Though I suppose you asking really did help, he might’ve just bailed when he heard there was alcohol. Despite everything… he makes a really good Morticia but that was mainly because he was tall and would do the tango with you if you asked

Kenny

• KEN AND BARBIE YOU SAY? I THINK SO!!!!!!! It’s hard to find something in his closet but he ends up trying to spray paint his parka bright pink and writing “I am Kenough” in black sharpie. Oh that poor, poor parka

• You had to physically force him not to try throwing together some haphazard dick costume that he wanted to use soooo bad. He tried to hard to convince you that you guys should go as a dick and sperm

• Thank god you guys didn’t, y’all ended up taking Karen trick or treating for a couple hours and she went dressed as a lil skeleton!!! It was the cutest thing ever, kinda stuff to make your heart melt

• After Karen got tuckered out y’all went to the party, might I add just in time to watch Randy scream and hang from the chandelier in only underwear. Honestly it was a lot funnier than it should’ve been, the man was stuck up there the rest of the night with you both passing up bottles of liquor to him

• Very memorable night for everyone involved, and somehow everyone knew what you guys were dressed as!! I suppose the bright pink and “I’m Kenough” really helped

Butters

• Would also suggest something racist but he doesn’t really know it, at least you give him better ideas so y’all don’t end up coming off weird

• Y’all would totally end up going as Joker and Harley Quinn, it’s completely overdone and cringe but y’all still go as them. Green hair and shirtless and EVERYTHING! His parents don’t like it at all and he ended up getting grounded later

• God you guys are sooooo cringe together, like y’all quote Harley Quinn and Joker stuff the whole night if y’all go to a Halloween/costume party. Multiple people will gag and throw up in their mouths. Multiple

• He’s the type to go to the party with you and almost have a heart attack because of the music, he would be paranoid that his parents would ground him for hearing such music. Somehow they did and they weren’t even there to hear it 😭

• You suggested going trick or treating but Butters was convinced he’s too old for it and his parents would def ground him for being out too late with someone as pretty as you. After a lot of convincing you got him to hit up a couple houses with you before you guys went home, the old people were very confused

#h harleybaby needs help #harley’s anons <33 #harley’s favs #south park x reader #south park x reader headcanons #south park x y/n #south park x you #eric cartman x reader #cartman x reader #cartman x y/n #cartman x you #eric cartman x y/n #Eric cartman x you #kyle brovlofski x y/n #kyle broflovski x y/n #kyle broflovski x you #kyle brovlofski x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #stan marsh x you #stan x you #stan x reader #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh x y/n #kenny x reader #kenny x you #Kenny x y/n #kenny mccormick x y/n #kenny mccormick x you #kenny mcormick x reader #kenny mccormick x reader

[atinylittlepain]

I've Got You - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

joel miller masterlist

She and Joel are partners in business. Nothing more. But they’ll both have to come to terms with this lie they’ve been telling themselves when something unspeakable happens.

warnings | 18+ angst, very dark themes (near SA, canon-typical violence), smut

Joel was difficult to talk to, so it was a good thing she didn’t have much to say. She figured that’s why they worked so well together. 

She had been in the Boston QZ since she was a teenager, since the beginning of all this really. Had set up a solid business in smuggling, finding it easy to go out into the open since she had nothing to lose, all her family gone in the first few days of the outbreak. It had hardened her, being on her own for so long, so when she found out she had competition from two newcomers, she was quick to make Joel’s and Tess’ acquaintance, knife in hand. If it hadn’t been for Tess’ diplomatic nature, she’s certain her and Joel would have killed each other then and there, two loose cannons butting heads. But, they had worked it out, merging their “business” and soon enough, they were the predominant smugglers of Boston, exerting a wide and powerful influence when they needed to.

Tess handled the deals, while she and Joel handled the actual runs. They could both go days without speaking, trailing each other along the crumbling highways, filling their packs with salvaged goods to take back. She didn’t know much about him, just that he had lost something big, just like her, just like most folks still alive. But they were comfortable with each other, an unwavering trust that had developed over months of successful jobs.

They were wrapping up another successful trip, about two day’s out from the QZ. They’d stop at Bill and Frank’s tomorrow, get a trade in before heading back. Night was starting to slip over the woods and they had set up camp in a thicket of trees. She took the first watch while Joel hunched into the side of his sleeping bag, trying to get some sleep. She blames it on herself, really, for letting her guard down when she should’ve been on alert. But they had never run into trouble in this area, and, to be quite honest, she was fucking exhausted after five days on the road. Even sitting up, hands around her shins, she was starting to fade in and out of sleep. 

That didn’t last long though, when suddenly she was being yanked up and back by her hair. Her shriek was cut off quick by a knife being pressed flat against her throat. She could feel the man’s beard scratching against the side of her face as he held her up against him. There were two others, one of whom had his gun trained on Joel who had been startled awake by the sound. Hunters, from the looks of them.

Joel had sat up, holding his palms out, his eyes darting between the mouth of the gun and her. The man with the gun spoke first.

“Don’t want no trouble, pal.” She could see the muscles in Joel’s cheek tick as he sized the man up.

“Doesn’t look that way to me, pal.” The man holding her up chuckled.

“Now, now, no need to get all worked up. Just gonna want some of whatever you got in those packs.” He paused for a moment, bringing his other hand to caress down the side of her body. She shuddered under his sickening touch. “And maybe a little turn with your girl here.” 

Joel was on his feet fast at that, but the other two men moved quick to grab hold of him. He struggled in their grip but the one punched him, hard, in the stomach, forcing him to double over.

She writhed under the man’s grip but he pressed the blade firmer into her throat.

“Easy, little bird. Why don’t you and I go have some alone time, huh? And if you’re real nice to me, I’ll think about not blowing your boyfriend’s brains out? That sound good to you?” She huffs as he jostles her in his grip, keeping a sneer across her face even though she nods. What the fuck else can she do?

“Be right back, gentlemen. Don’t y’all go nowhere.” He hoists her around, shoving her forward until they’re deeper into the woods, the glow of their camping lantern just a speck amongst the trees. He throws her down to the ground, quick to straddle her hips, pressing a knee into each of her wrists to keep her prone underneath him. There’s a rushing in her ears and her whole body’s shaking as he wrenches her jeans and underwear down her thighs. The man grunts behind her.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t ya? Think I ought to leave you with a little souvenir of our time together, huh?” She has no clue what he means, his voice sounding muffled as her mind continues to go hazy. But then there’s a searing pain in her low back and she realizes he’s carving something into her skin. She lets out a broken scream but he cuts her off by shoving a wad of cloth into her mouth. It’s agonizing until it’s not anymore, until her body goes slack under his hold. She realizes he’s carving letters into her skin. He’s carving initials. He finishes his work, she hears him throw the knife down beside them. He whistles low.

“Even prettier, little bird. Giving me something real nice to look at while I fuck you.” She feels frozen, numb, only startling slightly at the sound of gunshots in the distance. Her mind offers up a single thought like a mote of dust floating in the dim light. Joel. She picks up the fight again, as best she can, squirming under his hold, but he grabs a hold of her hair, forcing her head back.

“Watch it, little bird. Or I won’t be so sweet to you no more.” He drops her head, her face smearing in the rotting leaves of the forest floor. 

She can hear him undoing his belt in the gloom and she braces herself for what’s coming, her whole body tensing. But just then, another gunshot rings out, and she feels the man above her go slack, falling off to the side. Her wrists ache where he had been pressing them into the dirt. She heaves, huge rolling gasps leaving her shuddering ribcage as she tries to press herself up.

She hears her name being called through the rushing in her ears, feels a pair of hands gently pulling her jeans back up her legs. And then she sees Joel in the corner of her blurry vision, leaning down to search her face. She lets out a bone-rattling sob of his name and he gathers her up in his arms, sitting down on the ground and pulling her into him. There’s blood spattered across his shirt, but she doesn’t care, digging her face into his chest. He still smells like him.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re safe now. I’ve got you, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything else happen to you. I’ve got you.” 

…

Somehow, they manage to get to Bill and Frank’s the next day. Joel had overpowered the men last night, killing them all handily by the time he got to her. She hadn’t spoken since he’d found her, mutely walking alongside him, keeping her eyes on the road. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

When they met the two men at the fence, they both looked taken aback by her demeanor. Bill later told Joel he thought she looked like a spooked horse, wild eyes not quite making contact, jerky, stiff movements. Frank immediately took her under his arm, guiding her into the house to tend to her bruised wrists. The couple always had a soft spot for her, had been working with her long before Joel came around, and they treated her like a daughter. Joel and Bill were left standing there, staring each other down. Bill asked him what happened but all Joel could do was shake his head, a deep sigh rumbling through his chest as he scrubbed harshly at his jaw.

Bill offered him a shower and a clean set of clothes, which he gladly accepted, watching the rust-colored water swirl around the drain. All cleaned up, he ran into Frank in the hallway as he was coming out of the bathroom.

“She’s sleeping. I gave her some painkillers, to get her some rest, at least. She told me what happened.” Joel shifts in his boots, looking down at the floor, trying to hold onto whatever restraint he has left, to not crumple in front of Frank.

Frank brings his hand to Joel’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you, for what you did, Joel. For her.” Joel clears his throat.

“Didn’t do enough– should’ve– I should’ve–” Frank cuts him off with another squeeze to his shoulder.

“You did what you could. Listen, Bill won’t ever admit it. But that girl? She’s like family to us. Thank you for saving her. You did. You saved her.” All Joel can do is nod, trying to not let the thick feeling in his throat roll into tears.

…

The sun has already set. As always, Bill and Frank had cooked a mind-boggling meal, but she didn’t join them for dinner. Frank had taken a plate up to her before they sat down, and when he came back downstairs he told them that she was awake, that she was feeling ok.

After dinner, Joel excused himself as the couple settled at the piano together, telling them he wanted to turn in early. The room they had set him up in was across the hall from where she was and before he could think better of it, he was lightly knocking on her door.

She called for him to come in, and when he saw her, he was shocked at how much relief he felt in seeing her again. She was sitting on the side of the bed in a worn-looking t-shirt and sweatpants that Frank must have given her. She glanced quickly at him before looking down at her feet.

“Are you alright?” He’s taken aback from her question, softly shutting the door before turning back to look at her.

“You’re asking me if I’m alright?” She just shrugs, still not looking up at him.

“Frank sort of whisked me away this morning. Haven’t seen you since then, just wondering.” Joel tentatively sits down next to her, resting his forearms on his thighs, he looks at her over his shoulder.

“I’m fine. Are you alright?” She shakes her head.

“Don’t– don’t start treating me different, Joel.” “Not treating you different, I–”

“Yes you are, you’re treating me like I’m broken.” She scoffs before continuing, “I’m not that fragile. Thought you knew that by now. Christ, nothing even happened. You killed that-that bastard before he could really do anything.” Her breath shudders as she exhales.

“I know you’re not broken. And you’re certainly not fragile. Made of tougher stuff than most.” She shakes her head at that but he stops her.

“Hey. I also know that you’re a fucking human being. And you and I both know that even though nothing happened, something still did. Before I– before I could get to you.” It’s his turn to sigh now, wringing his hands that rest over his knees.

“Don’t, Joel. You did what you could, that’s enough.” He scoffs.

“Yeah, I did what I could. But it kills me that I didn’t do it quicker. When I saw him– on top of you, I– god, I– I’d rather die than see you hurt, do you get that?” Her head whips up to look at him, finally meeting his gaze.

“What?” He swallows hard, already regretting the words he just said, the dangerous confession he just gave to her.

“Look, I– I shouldn’t have said that, I should go,” he goes to stand but her hand reaches out to hold onto his and he freezes in place. His heart clenches when he looks at the mottled bruises long her wrist.

She turns to face him on the bed, cautiously raising her other hand to let her palm slide over his cheek. It comes out as a whisper when she says his name and something in Joel breaks.

He knows it’s rash, and maybe just plain stupid, but he still surges forward and when they kiss it’s not gentle or sweet, it’s desperate, it’s two people holding onto each other because it’s all they have. They move quickly, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his lap as she cards her fingers through his hair and when they kiss, they kiss ugly. All tongues and teeth and gasping breaths between. His fingers dig into her hips as she starts to press down onto his growing length. He pulls away, looking into her blown out eyes.

“I want you, Joel.” Afraid of what he might say in reply, he dives back in for her mouth, slowly starting to shift them until he’s laying her out on the bed with his legs slotted between her thighs.

He keeps his weight off her, seeing her slight wince with each movement, not wanting to hurt or overwhelm her. But she pulls him down by his shoulder blades, pressing him against her.

“Please, I just– I need to feel you, please.” He pauses, breathing heavily as he looks into her eyes, just nodding.

“You’ve got me, darlin’. I’m right here.” He shifts a bit closer to her, coming down onto his forearms as he kisses along her jaw, down her neck and across her collarbone. She sighs underneath him.

He feels her hands fumbling at the hem of his shirt and he leans back to shrug it off over his head. What he wasn’t expecting was for her to do the same with her own, and when he’s met with the sight of her bare chest, his breath catches in his throat. She reaches out for him but he’s still frozen in place, taking her in. He lets his hands slide up her sides, fingertips grazing over her nipples in a way that makes her shiver. He murmurs the only word he can think to before meeting her in another kiss.

“Beautiful.”

They press skin to skin now and the feeling, the warmth makes Joel shudder. He feels like he can’t get enough of her, the way she’s running her palms up and down the planes of his back, the little sounds she makes as he kisses her. She takes one of his hands and brings it to the waist of her sweatpants. His fingers halt there as he looks up to her, asking without saying anything, she just nods.

He slips his fingers under the band, skimming down to her folds. He groans at the pooling wetness there. She’s keening into his hand as he strokes her, dipping into her entrance before swirling her arousal around her clit.

“You’re perfect, baby. S’fucking perfect. Does that feel good?” She just nods, gasping his name when his fingers dip inside her again.

“J-Joel, please. Wanna feel you. W-want you inside me.” His head spins at her words and stops what he’s doing, splaying his palm across the soft swell of her stomach.

“Are you sure?” 

“I am.” He hangs his head, letting his forehead rest below her sternum, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, making sure this is real.

“Christ, ok. Ok, darlin’. I’ve got you.” He presses up off the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down along with his boxers. He thinks he might melt under her gaze, the way she takes in the sight of him.

He kneels at the end of the bed, bringing his hands to the waistband of her pants, looking up to her one more time, one more confirmation before he gently slides her pants and underwear off her legs. He sighs at the sight of her, bare beneath him, before framing her head with his forearms, laying over her and pressing in for a kiss. He guides the head of his cock through her folds and they both groan at the contact. She draws her knee up to his hip, spreading herself out for him just a bit more.

“You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?” She nods, brushing his hair back away from his eyes before settling her hand on his cheek. He turns his head and lays a kiss in the middle of her palm before he starts to press into her. She gasps and he freezes immediately, but then she keens.

“D-don’t stop, please. Want you to keep going.” He huffs, pressing a bit deeper, taking in the way her back arches into him. Her nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder where she’s wrapped her arm.

Finally, his hips settle against hers, and they both sigh at the feeling of him being fully sheathed in her. Joel’s afraid that if he moves, this will be over before it’s even started. He dips his nose into her neck, smelling the soap Frank gave her to clean up with, but also just smelling her. Her heel digs a little into his low back, he looks up at her.

“You can move, baby.” Joel holds back a whimper at her words. He shifts his hips back, finding a slow roll back into her that has them both moaning. It’s a slow, deep pace they find, pushing and pulling against each other, lips smearing in barely-coherent kisses. 

He feels the pleasure pulling tight, ready to snap, but he needs to get her there first. He brings his fingers down, circling her clit a bit harshly. She whines at the contact and he can feel her pulse around him.

“Just let go, baby. I’ve got you. Let go for me, please.” She lets out a broken cry of his name before coming undone, and it’s enough to send Joel over the edge as well, quickly pulling out and painting her stomach with his spend. He’s panting as he leans in for a chaste kiss, pulling back to take in her flushed figure, the softly heaving swells of her body. He whispers that he’ll be right back, moving over to the attached bathroom to find a towel to clean her up with. He sits back on the bed, daubing away the mess he made. She’s smiling softly around a “thank you.” 

He passes her her t-shirt to slip back on while he tugs his boxers back up his legs before they both get under the covers, immediately tangling up in each other. There’s nothing to say, it’s unspoken what has just passed between them. Joel knows that from now on, he’s hers, and she’s his. 

Her breathing evens out before his, falling asleep in his arms. He lets his palm wander up her shirt, gently skating down her back. He pauses at the gauze bandage that sits at the base of her spine. He had seen what that man had done to her, the letters gruesomely carved into her skin. It made him wish he hadn’t just shot the man, that he had kept him alive to make him suffer, only giving him the mercy of death when he was begging for it. 

#joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller one shot #fanfic

[peachhcs]

losing the championships

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

will's self-doubt creeps in after losing the finals making him snap at the one person who's always there for him, almost making her turn her back on him.

2.6k words

warnings: a bit of angst, arguing, crying, this is a sad post in general

ik im feeding y’all rn but i feel weird putting this out in two days and not now haha, but guys you know i had to do it. i had to get the angst out. i think this is like the first angsty post in the series?? i hate when there is angst, but i love writing it lmao. i'm not sure how accurate some of this is, but i hope the trio stays on for another season!! i'd actually be devestated if they don't. anyways keep requesting!! <3

au masterlist

it didn’t feel real. nothing felt real watching her best friends crumple to the ice in utter defeat and heartbreak just two days after winning the semifinals. samy stood up in the stands nearly motionless while everything around her fell silent. she didn’t think those moments were actually real whenever they played in movies, but here she was hardly focusing on anything but her best friends in tears. 

her eyes couldn’t leave ryan on his knees with his face in the ice. she just wanted to wrap all of them into her arms so none of them would feel this type of pain anymore. 

the stupid jumbotron panned to everyone’s reactions, basically putting the boys on full blast when they most definitely didn’t want anyone to see them crying like they were. samy’s heart only broke further when she finally looked down at her boyfriend trying to hold himself together while comforting a sobbing ryan and teary gabe. 

her own eyes grew teary seeing those three so destroyed not knowing what was next for any of them. that was probably the scariest part. 

when will searched for samy’s gaze the waterworks broke like a dam for the couple. the youngest hughes was completely crying and will’s shame settled into his skin that he lost the game without even scoring a single point. 

their coach urged the boys down the tunnel before the cameras could get any more shots of them. samy tried pulling herself together, but her hiccuping cries didn’t stop slipping out no matter how hard she tried holding them in. 

boston’s side of the lobby was nearly silent which almost mirrored michigan’s team two days ago. suddenly, seeing those happy memories wasn’t as easy anymore. samy’s mind raced wondering if this game really was the last for her favorite trio or if they’d stay on one more season with boston. 

thirty minutes passed before the bc boys slowly trickled out of the locker room. their bloodshot eyes and tear stained faces were enough to send more tears into samy’s own eyes. her lip quivered waiting for her boyfriend to appear, but he didn’t come out after his usual spot behind ryan and gabe. the two boys found samy’s gaze, frowning even deeper. 

“hey, i’m so sorry. i-i have no words,” samy brought them into big hugs hoping to ease a bit of their ache. 

“what a fucking night,” ryan muttered bitterly. 

“you guys played well. those refs were idiots making calls,” the brunette shook her head. 

“will’s still in there. he’s..he’s not taking this one too well. you can go in if you want, but he may explode. I i don’t want you to think he’s mad at you, he’ll just find something to take his anger out on,” gabe explained briefly. samy’s eyes slid towards the locker room doorway where her boyfriend hid. 

“don’t worry, i know how he gets. I’ll see if i can talk to him,” she couldn’t be scared of will. 

he was her best friend and boyfriend. he’d never intentionally hurt her and if he said things, she knew he was just angry with himself, not her. the girl shuffled her way towards the locker room trying to put on a brave face for will’s sake. 

she knocked on the door before slowly pushing it open. her eyes scanned the practically empty room until she found her boyfriend slumped in his stall at the end of the benches. her hands trembled as she slid further in and leaned against the door. 

“will?” 

his eyes snapped towards hers. he looked like a mess and that only unleashed more waterworks seeing him in this state. it wasn’t one samy saw him a lot in, so when she did, it hurt extra hard. 

“if you’re here to try and make me feel better, i don’t wanna hear it,” the boy mumbled bitterly which quickly caught samy off guard. 

she wasn’t expecting that from him so immediately. 

“i’m not. just here to be with you,” the girl said, trying to hide the shake in her voice. 

“well, i’m not really in the mood to be around anyone right now. just go. i’ll be out in a few minutes,” the bitterness in his voice definitely stung, but samy tried shaking him off knowing he was just upset. 

“will..” she inched forward, wanting to reach out to him. he looked as if anyone touched him he’d just break into a million pieces. 

“i said go. i don’t need your fucking sympathy. i feel feel like shit,” the blonde snapped this time making samy instantly draw back. 

“i know you’re upset, i get it. this loss fucking sucks. i’m just trying—” 

“you don’t fucking get it, samy! i just lost the championship game 2-0. we scored zero points. you know how fucking embarrassing that is? i’ve been trying to prove myself all season about how good i can be and then i lose the championship game. you’ll never fucking get it!” there it was. 

will’s tone rose with anger and hurt all mixed into one. samy swallowed the nerves climbing higher in her stomach as she tried remembering none of this was really directed at her. she was just the person will was getting his anger out on. 

“i-i do get it, will. remember my championship game in december? we choked. i-i get it, i do. it sucks and i’m so sorry it ended this way. i wish it didn’t—”

“stop saying you get it. it’s not the fucking same. you’ve never had to work for anything in your life because of your family!” 

the blonde’s harsh words finally hit a nerve. samy’s face twisted and she didn’t know anymore if he really didn’t mean it or not, but through the anger, will realized what he said. 

“samy..i didn’t—”

“fuck you, will. you of all people should know how hard i’ve worked to be where i am right now. i know you’re upset about everything right now, but you don’t need to bring me down to make yourself feel better. don’t bother waiting up. i’m leaving with ryan and gabe,” samy stormed out of the locker room before will could say anything more.

the tears streamed down her face as soon as she was in the lobby again. ryan and gabe instantly noticed her distraught expression, immediately going to her. 

“shit, what happened?” ryan muttered. 

“can we just go? i can’t deal with him right now,” samy choked out. the two exchanged a worried glance, but obliged. 

the whole ride back to the hotel was nothing but silence as everyone reeled from the disappointing night. 

—

gabe let samy camp out in his hotel room for the night. he didn’t dare ask her what happened in the locker room knowing she’d tell him if she wanted to; however, the dark-haired boy wanted to go knock some sense into will knowing he most definitely snapped too hard at samy which made her want to avoid him. 

it was almost two in the morning when there was a small knock. still awake, the two exchanged wary glances, so gabe got the door. 

he pulled it open to reveal a very weary, teary-eyed, sad, and frustrated will. for a moment, gabe almost let him in, but he stopped himself because he didn’t want the boy blowing up at samy again. the girl sat nervously on the bed just out of sight of the door listening in on them.

“is she here?” will rasped out, voice dry from the amount he cried after samy left the locker room and getting back to the hotel. 

“i’m not sure i wanna answer that,” gabe stood his ground. 

“come on, perreault. leno said he didn’t have her,” will tried again. 

hearing how wrecked he sounded broke samy’s heart all over again. gabe gazed back at her, a look in his eyes asking her if she really wanted to see him. 

even though he insulted her, something in samy was still trying to justify it for him being upset and angry. she really wanted to believe he didn’t mean it. with that, the girl crawled off the bed and shuffled her way behind gabe’s 6’1 figure. 

“we can talk in your room,” samy mumbled. 

“o-okay,” the shake in her boyfriend’s voice made samy want to lunge herself at him and make all the pain go away, but she had to stand up for herself still. 

“you’re sure?” gabe wondered before letting her go. 

“i’m sure. i’ll see you tomorrow,” she rubbed his arm and stepped around him. 

her and will walked three doors down where his hotel room was. it was basically hers too since most of her stuff was scattered across the room over the past few days they’ve been there. 

will shut the door behind them. the brunette looked at him expectantly knowing she said everything she could. a beat of silence passed before the tears quickly filled the blonde’s eyes and he started completely sobbing in front of her. he crumpled against the door, choking sobs falling from his lips as he body sunk into the ground. 

for a second, samy just stared at him until her instincts kicked in and she went to him without hesitation this time. 

“oh will,” she curled into his side, stroking his hair as his body fell into hers. 

“i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean any of it. i don’t know why i said it. i was upset and i know that’s not an excuse at all,” the boy rambled into her shoulder. 

“i know this loss hurts, but taking your anger out on people with harsh words isn’t gonna make it better,” samy said.

“i know, i know. i-i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have lashed out on you. that’s not fair to you at all.” 

“i was just trying to comfort you like i always do after losses,” the girl hated seeing her boyfriend so upset like this. his tears dripped everywhere on her even after samy tried wiping them away with her thumb. 

“i know. i shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. i just.. I didn’t want you to see me like that,” will’s voice grew softer at his small admission. 

“what do you mean like that?” i’ve seen you lose games before.”

“i don’t know if this is how you felt after your soccer game, but i felt so pathetic for losing a championship game where we didn’t even score. my pride was hurt and i worried you’d think i wasn’t good enough anymore because i lost like that,” his words continued breaking samy’s heart. 

she grabbed ahold of his face so he was looking at her, “i’d never think any less of you because you lost. it happens. you’re not pathetic for losing and i promise it doesn’t make me look at you any differently.” 

“i guess i’m just always scared you’ll get sick of me and realize i’m not actually worth it. that and a hundred other emotions were just going through me and it came out really wrong,” will frowned. 

a small sigh escaped the girl’s lips hearing the boy she’s known all her life doubt himself so much. “you’re always worth it, will. nothing’s ever gonna change that for me, okay? i’m always gonna be in love with you and wanna be around you win or lose, whatever's happening in your career. you’re stuck with me,” a small laugh escaped their lips at the last part. 

“i know that. i just get really doubtful when i get down on myself and hard losses like that happen.” 

“i get it, but i’m not going anywhere, okay? you played your best tonight, those refs were making shit calls and unfortunately, denver just figured us out.” 

a small nod came from will. he pushed his forehead onto samy’s just trying to ease all the thoughts running through his mind while focusing on the way she ran her fingers gently through his hair and around his curls. some of his roots were rough and red from the way he pulled harshly on them earlier, so her gentle motions slowly eased the ache. 

“i’m scared that i don’t know what’s gonna happen next with any of us,” will spoke again after a small silence. 

he lifted his head again to meet his girlfriend’s gaze before leaning it against the door. 

“are you gonna sign on?” the idea played in samy’s mind as well after tonight’s game. 

the decision was entirely up to the coaches of each of the guy’s respective teams, but considering how well all of them played and improved in one season, they may want them sooner rather than later. 

“i don’t know. it’s up to whether the sharks want me now or later,” will answered. 

“have you talked to ryan or gabe? what they may do?” 

“washington’s pushing closer to the playoffs. they may want ryan on for it. i dunno. gabe’s most likely gonna stay. i don’t think the rangers are quite ready for him yet. the ideal situation is we all stay one one more season with boston,” will explained a bit, his fingers drawing mindles shapes into samy’s leg. 

“what do the sharks say about you?” the girl wondered with a raised eyebrow. 

“you know what they say about me. they want me now. they wanna wait another year. it’s..sort of up to me i guess,” will shrugged a bit, avoiding eye contact. 

“would you sign on now?” she rephrased her question from earlier. 

“if i sign on now, my entire life gets flipped around in a week and i have to move to california, but then i’d possibly get to play in the playoffs. if i wait, i get to stay with boston and everyone for another year and more importantly, see you more frequently than if i was in california,” samy rolled her eyes at the last part—he was always so down bad for her. 

“don’t make the decision based on me, will. you’ll see me still.” 

“i know, but i think i do subconsciously anyway. you’re just my life now,” his words sent a deep blush across the girl’s cheeks. 

“i’m flattered,” she rubbed the side of his cheek making him lean into her touch. 

“you’re everything to me, samy. i’m really, really in love with you and i can’t imagine my life without you in it,” will smiled softly. 

the girl flushed, but returned his smile. hearing those kinds of things come out of his mouth was still something the brunette was getting used to even after 9 months of being together. 

“you’re everything to me too, will. i love you a lot.” 

the boy leaned forward to place a gentle, yet loving kiss on her lips. they melted into one another, small sighs escaping their mouths at the contact. her hands tugged at his curls while his own curved around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer like he needed her as close as possible or else he couldn’t function. 

part of it was true. without samy, will was lost like a fish in the ocean. she was a part of him and he was a part of her. they were intertwined and always would be. her soft lips soothed every single thought and self-doubt will had because as long as his favorite girl believed in him, that was all that mattered. 

“i know i said this already, but thank you for being here. it means a lot to me,” will said when they pulled apart. 

“i’d never miss this. i’ll always skip classes for you,” she grinned. 

the boy beamed, pulling her back in for another kiss. 

the two didn’t get into bed until nearly 3:30 in the morning. samy curled into will’s side, his arm tightly around her as she laid on his chest. the tension in the air completely dissipated and the cries died down. things felt okay again. 

they’d sleep tangled in one another all night knowing the next morning samy had to catch her plane back to michigan and will would be left with one big decision that would decide what plane he had to catch. 

#hughes!sister x will smith au #will smith hockey #samy x will #boston college #boston college hockey #samy hughes #umich hockey #will smith imagine #will smith x oc #uofmichigan #bc hockey #ryan leonard #gabe perreault #will smith hockey fluff #willl smith fluff #umichsoccer

[j0eyj0rdis0n]

Olá, adoro suas histórias, meu escritor favorito, queria solicitar alguns proxies×leitores quando ficarem com ciúmes, tipo sfw e nsfw, se não for incômodo, desculpe

TRANSLATION: “Hello, I love your stories, my favorite writer, I wanted to request some proxies×readers when they get jealous, like sfw and nsfw, if it's not bothersome, sorry”

Ola amor! I don’t speak Portuguese unfortunately so I hope google translate did its job correctly! I’m so glad you like my work and requests aren’t bothersome at all! 🖤

THE PROXIES WHEN THEY’RE JEALOUS

TIM:

Tim gets more insecure when he’s jealous rather than Masky

He’d probably put his hand on your waist protectively when he feels like someone is showing off a little too much or their words are getting risky

Just small acts of protectiveness from him and quick glances to you to make sure you’re alright and they’re not bothering you

If you’re uncomfortable by someone else’s advances he won’t hesitate to step in and tell them to fuck off

He walks a fine line between himself and Masky when he has to step in

But as soon as he gets a punch in it’s like a light switch that flipped. Immediately having Masky front. It’s something about violence that makes it flip

But if you look like you’re enjoying their advances he’ll be absolutely heartbroken. He’d stay by your side until you got back home then immediately hole up in his room or go for a long walk

Either way you won’t be seeing him for a while. It’ll be until you confront him about his odd behavior that he avoids you

BRIAN:

Silent upset. You can see it on his face that he’s irritated with their attempts to flirt with you. His eyebrows furrowed and fire beginning to burn in his eyes

He won’t let anyone take you and he knows if you tried to leave he’ll only bring you back. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get irritated when they try to flirt with you when they see you’re obviously taken

Another protective hand on the waist kind of guy

If he truly feels like they’ve gone too far he might step up to them, not to the level that Hoodie would but still rather agressive

Unlike Tim, Brian can get a few punches in and still stay in control of himself but he doesn’t like to get violent when he’s not working

Will absolutely find the person flirting with you later and beat them to a slow painful death with his pipe. Or if he’s feeling generous he’ll shoot them quick

Gives you the silent treatment for a while if he could see you were enjoying the advances made by the other person

He’ll have a serious talk with you when he’s finished being silent. Even then he’s not much of a talker when it comes to the conversation

MASKY:

Loses his shit. Immediately lunges at the person and throws them to the ground.

In an instant he’s on top of them choking them out, probably slamming their head against the ground while he’s at it

They’d be lucky to be alive when he’s done with them

When they’re taken care of he’ll pick you up and take you home

(NSFW) When y’all get home he’s fucking you so you know you’re all he cares about

Possessive as fuuuuck

HOODIE:

Will stand behind you as they try to start flirting with you and he’ll silently pull up his hoodie to show the gun in his waistband.

Hopefully they get the hint and fuck off

But if they don’t he’d gently take your hand and bring you outside while he goes back in and takes care of the person

He doesn’t like you to see him get so violent 🫠

“TICCI” TOBY:

Feral. There’s two routes this man will take and it completely depends on how he’s feeling that day

First route is if its been a rough day he’ll absolutely lose it when it’s almost warranted. Screaming shouting and making a scene

He’d probably punch them if they touched you at all

Will absolutely find them and kill them later too

But if it’s been a decent day he’ll grab your wrist (harder than he thought) and drag you home

You’ll ask him why he freaked out and he’ll be completely honest, telling you exactly why.

He was worried you’d want someone more normal than him, he wanted to show you he loved you and he can protect you

#creepypasta #marble hornets #creepypasta requests #creepypasta headcannons #creepypasta hcs #marble hornets headcanons #masky marble hornets #hoodie marble hornets #brian thomas #tim wright #ticci toby #toby rodgers #creepypasta proxies #headcannons #anon ask #asks open

[endlessdaydream]

I get it, live actions aren’t for everybody and that’s totally fine. Not everyone’s gonna like it. But to shit on the stupidest things, or draw the dumbest conclusions??? Blocked. Y’all look dense as fuck. Views will be mixed as they always are, quit clogging up the tags with your negativity and find some chill 😂 The originals are still there to watch or read and enjoy…so go do that…it’s literally on the same app 👏🏻 I’m trying to be understanding I am, but some of y’all are so damn hung up you’re letting it completely destroy something you’d otherwise enjoy

Anyways!! Here’s some of the stuff I loved from the atla live action!

•cinematography, soundtrack, costumes - all on point

•getting to see the airbenders flourishing!!! Also the dude who played Gyatso?! Didn’t think I could love him more!! Even though it was painful as FUCKKKK getting to see the first invasion of the fire benders was an epic masterpiece

•speaking of, the first scene?? With the earthbender soldiers in the fire nation?? Iconic

•Omashu: unpop opinion I’m sure (bc y’all hate change but simultaneously hate when it’s carbon copy????????🤦🏼‍♀️) I loved how they incorporated like 3 or 4 episodes into one, and they flowed really well together. Jet is FOINEEE. Mechanist was perfect & his son is a freaking badass, amazing casting! Even though it was change, the secret tunnel scenes were still really freaking cool and the badgermoles were SICK AS FUCK. Also I love that Bumi was still cooky but not just randomly cooky? Like mans was run down from being king basically the entire war…which FAIR. And it made sense that he was peeved with Aang BECAUSE they were such good friends. Like the other avatars being mad at him? Yea that’s whatever. But for Bumi it was kinda personal. Also CABBAGE MAN WE MISSED YOU 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 Oh! And the way they mentioned other episodes like they were lore when Zuko was trying to find Aang? That was an amazing way to tie back to the OG series

•I love how they incorporated the blue spirit, Koh, the fog of lost souls & parts of the ep where sokka and Katara got sick & Aang had to get them frogs - just reimagined it. Oh also Hei Bai! Yea, I loved that whole episode. Koh & Hei Bai were SCARY as fuck, it was awesome!!

•HAHN MY BELOVED…I ADORE YOU! Favorite character that they added/changed. Katara getting the other women involved in the battle?! Tui & La? The oasis?! 😭😭 stunning!!!! I also LOVEDDDDD Aangs avatar spirit that he turned into, literally perfect! And I loved the change that he gave himself over to the spirits wrath..fucking SICK. Also right before aang turned into the spirit/whatever that’s called, I was praying they’d do the line and thEY DIDDDD!!!

•Fire lord Ozai?? 😳😚 nothing needed to be said - perfection

•Kyoshi?! The Kyoshi warriors?! SUKI?! - speechless

•I like that they’re making more of a point to show how smart Sokka is! Mechanist calling him an engineer…I hope they play more into that! Ik they did a bit in the show with the subs (cartoon), but still

•”~hE rAn~” seriously my favorite line, I was DYINGGGG!!! The scenes with Zuko and Iroh, Zuko before the war meeting, the leaves from the vine being in the background at the funeral….ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME?! Zuko’s crew being the crew he SAVED?! And when they find out they all do the fire nation bows to their prINCE?! 😭😭😭😭

I’m being fair y’all - things I don’t love/hope they change:

•this one I’m 50/50 on - I don’t love that they tried to give Kuruk a reason for disappearing. They tried to pull shit from Korra to make him look meaningful & not useless as an avatar and it didn’t hit for me

•some of the wigs: obviously we won’t see Yue again, but I wanted her hair to be white. I didn’t love the wig but it wouldn’t have been as bad for me if it wasn’t so grey. Also do NOT love Azula, Tylee or Mai’s hair. Ik they look just like the show but whether that’s wigs or their actual hair (I’m clueless) it needs some serious improvement. Azula’s looks great down, I just don’t like how big the side pieces are that frame her face when it’s up.

•Katara, my love, I am PRAYING part of your development is also going to be her becoming more outspoken and badass, bc this season we saw the tiniest of glimpses of it, not a fan (unless it’s a part of her development…she did grow up in a tiny ass tribe so I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt)

• IK they’re going with a much more serious Aang, but pleaseeeee give us some actual moments of him being a kid. We saw that like twice 😭

•Dante is the PERFECT ZUKO, I will hear NO slander. However, I need him to be more of a dick. I’m hoping we’ll get that when he gets super desolate when they’re on the run & then we have Zuko alone & he has his inner battle. I need snarky dickhead Zuko, so you can truly see the big differences between what he’s fighting (himself vs. who his dad wants him to be)

Have fun kids!

In case I haven’t made it clear, idgaf if you disagree. I go so hard for these live actions because it’s fun! It’s just supposed to be fun and different and new. If you get so serious about it you’re ALWAYS going to be disappointed, there’s no way around it bc nothing is ever going to be as good as the original book, the original show, the original tale. OG atla is ALWAYS gonna be the winner, nothing will compare! So sit back ~relax~ and find some joy in the little things

#also if I see anymore of you IDIOTS say Aang was flying in episode one? I’m gonna choke #atla #natla #Netflix atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #netflix avatar the last airbender #zuko #aang #katara #sokka #toph #uncle Iroh #northern water tribe #southern water tribe #kyoshi #kuruk #Roku #yangchen #monk gyatso #appa #kataang #zutara #azula #ty lee #Mai #fire lord ozai #momo #atla spoilers

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

during - part seven

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

tommy takes care of joel as best he can, and you try and make a break for it.

a/n: y’all I am having way too much fun writing this story. part 7 earlier than planned, and tbh I’ll probably post part 8 tomorrow if I can. the inspo is REAL and thank you all for the comments and reblogs and messages and general love and support - you have no idea how happy it makes me!! 🤍

word count: 4.6k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, canon-typical violence and injuries, death, blood, near-death experiences, questionable decisions on the military’s part

✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new works/chapters!✨

Tommy watches his brother fall apart.

It’s one thing after another, and he can’t blame Joel. The world’s ending; everything else is falling apart, it only makes sense that he would too. But still, it hurts. Watching his big brother — the only constant in his life for as long as he can remember — break down, it makes Tommy hurt in a way he can’t fully comprehend. It’s not fair.

He thinks about the soldier, in the days that follow. He’d come up the ridge just as the gunfire sounded, already looking for his brother and niece, never expecting to find them the way that he did. Joel was pleading, already hurt, his hands in the air, as good a white flag as any, and the soldier just didn’t care. It went against everything in Tommy, but when the soldier lifted the gun again, Tommy fired first.

But then…Sarah.

There was so much blood. He should be used to it, being who he is, seeing what he’s seen. But it’s different, it feels different, it sits in the back of his mind and haunts his every step. She was so young. So bright, so good. And then just, gone.

“Tommy, help me!”

He’d never heard Joel like that, so desperate, so lost. The only moment that rivalled it was when they’d been in the truck, Tommy driving, Joel with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Talking to you, asking where you were, if you were safe.

“It’s everywhere,” Joel had said, and Tommy had felt a distinct feeling of helplessness wash through him. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t just in Austin. He focused on the road, tried not to look too closely at the chaos in the distance. Shit was hitting the fan, in every sense.

He tightened his grip on the wheel as Joel continued talking to you. You were hurt, Joel telling you to patch yourself up. “I’m not hanging up until you do.”

Tommy could hear the ache in his brother’s voice. Joel had never let you go, not completely, and Tommy knew it. He didn’t blame Joel for it; having you around was the happiest he’d seen his brother in a long time. He liked you, too, liked your laugh and your sense of humour, the way you looked at Joel like you were seeing him for the first time, every time.

He had to swerve the truck as another car barrelled down the road in the opposite direction. Joel grabbed for the dashboard, phone still glued to his ear. “I’m gonna find you, you hear me? Just get out of Boston and I swear to you, I’m gonna find you!” A pause, and Joel stared at the phone. Tommy could see his brother’s hands shaking. “It’s dead.”

A moment later, the radio — which had been spewing news reports since Joel had picked Tommy up — went silent. Joel tossed his phone onto the truck floor, slammed his fist into the dash a moment later.

“Fuck!”

“She okay?” Tommy asked, and Joel scrubbed a hand over his face. “Joel?”

“Boyfriend attacked her,” Joel grumbled, rubbing his forehead again. “Tried to fuckin’ bite her. She said he’s dead.”

Tommy had balked. “She did that?”

“Dunno,” Joel had replied, and huffed a humourless laugh, the noise almost flat. “Is it fucked up if I say I hope she did?”

Tommy had pressed the gas a little harder, the truck speeding down the road. “Everything’s fucked up, seems like.” Silence hung over them only for a moment, punctuated a moment later by the loud whoosh of flames as a car down the road collided with a telephone pole. Joel cursed under his breath, Tommy kept on driving. “What are we gonna do, Joel?”

“We get Sarah, and we go,” his brother replied, and despite the waver in his voice, he sounded sure. Surer than Tommy felt. “East.”

East, Tommy thought. Boston. You. Like he’d expected anything different. “You really think you can find her?”

“I can sure as hell try.”

The conversation feels like a year ago, instead of the handful of days it has been. Maybe a week; he’s starting to lose track, already. They’ve been holed up for a few hours now, tucked in the garage of an abandoned house. They crossed the state line a few hours back, and so far, Arkansas looks the same as Texas: fucking ravaged. Joel sits on the floor, knees up to his chest, face buried in his arms. Tommy feels antsy.

“I’m gonna go look inside, see if there’s anything worth taking. You good?”

“Yeah.”

Seems like every neighbourhood they come across has been evacuated, the houses all empty. They have guns; he already had his own, and he’d swiped the rifle from the soldier that had attacked Joel and Sarah. Though he was quick to give Joel his, take the soldier’s for himself. Something about Joel touching the weapon that had killed Sarah made Tommy’s gut twist. He didn’t like it either, but it was out of necessity.

The house has obviously been picked through, toppled furniture and broken glass as far as he can tell, but they get lucky: a first aid kit, a mostly full bottle of whiskey, and some cans of beans. Tommy grabs it all, heads up the stairs. Clearly an older couple, but there’s a few men’s jackets in one of the closets, a pair of work boots, plain t-shirts. He takes the lot, offering the boots to Joel when he gets back to the garage. “These your size?”

His brother takes the boots with a flat expression, pulling the laces to peer at the sole. “About there, yeah. Don’t need ‘em though.”

“Take ‘em with us, for when you do,” Tommy counters, offering Joel one of the t-shirts next. “You should change.”

“M’fine.”

Tommy hooks the gun over his head, setting it on the ground beside him as he crouches in front of Joel. “You’re covered in blood,” he says, and his brother snatches the t-shirt. “Need to change your bandage, too.”

“And what exactly do you want me to—” Joel starts, but shuts up when Tommy tosses the first aid kit to him.

“Need help?” he asks as Joel gets to his feet, pulls his stained t-shirt off, tosses it aside. They’d found a half empty kit in a cafe back in Austin, dressed Joel’s wound before they took off completely. Joel was lucky, just a graze, but Tommy knows it must hurt like hell, and it’ll leave a scar, a reminder of that night, of what was lost.

Joel winces as he pulls of the old bandage, tossing it in the same direction as the t-shirt. “Don’t suppose you found any water in there?” He digs through the first aid kit. “No antiseptic.”

“No water,” Tommy confirms, but holds up the bottle of whiskey. “Just this.”

It’s not ideal, using the alcohol to clean the graze — and Joel nearly puts his fist through the wall despite the healthy sip he takes before Tommy wipes a piece of gauze damp with the whiskey over the wound — but it’ll work. They have to make do.

Joel sinks back onto the concrete floor once the wound is redressed, the new t-shirt pulled over his head. He takes the whiskey with him, and Tommy sits beside his brother, both of them with rifles in their laps. They sip the bottle in turn, and Tommy savours the burn as it slides down his throat, warmth spreading through his chest. It loosens his tongue, makes him regret the question the second it’s out of his mouth.

“You think she made it?” He knows he doesn’t have to call you by name. Not now.

“I have to,” is his brother’s only response.

+

They stop you at the gate.

You don’t know what you’re thinking, but after staking out the giant metal fence for a few hours, you at least know that trying to sneak over is only going to result in a bullet finding a home somewhere it shouldn’t. The soldiers were firing at anything that made a break for the gate, and running full-force didn’t make you brave, it made you stupid. It made you look like one of them. Infected. Mindless. Blood-thirsty. A few have come sprinting up to the post you’ve been watching, and the soldiers have put them down without batting an eye.

As you’ve watched, a few groups of people have approached the post. All the same, their hands in the air, desperation in their voices, carried to you on the smoke-tinged breeze. Please help us. You’ve watched them get directed away from the post, towards a still-standing building a few yards from the gate, where a military-issue tent is set up. Some of them walk back out, are directed towards an armoured truck parked along the gate, and then the truck disappears, only for a new one to reappear in its stead a few minutes later. It’s like clockwork, but only some end up in the trucks.

Others are carried out the back of the tent, bodies dumped into one of the pits left by the bombing. It makes your skin crawl.

It takes a while, lacking the confidence to put yourself in the line of fire when you could just keep hiding in the city. The soldiers might find you eventually — if the Infected didn’t find you first — but if you could just keep going, maybe there was a break in the fence somewhere, a way out besides what lies ahead of you. But finally, after a few hours of squatting in the rubble, your limbs aching from staying pressed against brick, you step out of the alley, and put your hands in the air. You’ve pulled down the sleeves of the hoodie you’re wearing, letting it cover the bandage around your arm, and you grip the cuffs with your fingers as you raise your arms.

“I’m not infected!”

A flash of movement, and the barrels of at least ten rifles are pointed directly at you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, bile rising in the back of your throat. A suitable reaction, you think, and you swallow back the fear that makes you want to run. It’ll only get you killed that much faster.

“Name!” one of the soldier’s shouts. You can’t tell who; they’re all wearing helmets, visors covering their faces, turning it into a sea of darkness staring back at you. Your fingers flex, and you call you name back.

“I need to leave.”

One of them starts laughing. Another two look at each other, sharing a look you can’t suss out. A few lower their guns, and the prickle along your spine fizzles slightly. A visor lifts, revealing a soot-streaked face, a grim expression. “Why on earth would you wanna do that?”

“My family is in Texas,” you say, your voice surprisingly strong, if not a little thready from the smoke. “I have to go find them.”

“You’re gonna walk halfway across the country,” a faceless voice asks, “with a baseball bat? Girl, you don’t have a hope in hell.”

“Beats sitting around here, waiting to die,” you throw back, and the soldier that had lifted his visor lifts his brow. “Let me pass.”

“Can’t do that,” he replies, and steps up in front of you. He’s got a strange face, eyes a little too dark, hair hidden by the helmet, a scar on his mouth. Something about him reminds you of Dean, but a much harder version, his face more angular, the voice slightly deeper. “No one gets out of the city, we have orders.”

“You can’t hold me hostage here,” you start, stepping towards him. Your hands are still in the air. “My family is out there, I need to—”

“No one gets out,” another soldier interrupts. “FEDRA’s orders.”

Your brow creases. “FEDRA?”

“Federal Disaster Response Agency,” the strange-faced soldier answers.

“So the military is taking over?”

“I never said that.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Just let me go, please? I can’t stay here, my family—”

“Is in Texas,” the soldier replies, nodding along. He hefts his gun slightly, adjusting his grip, and you don’t miss the meaning, the silent threat behind it. “And you’re here, in Boston. Now you don’t have a car, or any real weapons, and we have orders. You’re not going anywhere.”

You bite back the protest that crawls up your throat. If you’re getting out, it’s not through here. “Then where am I supposed to go?”

“There’s a shelter,” he tells you, “in the mall. There’s food, water, beds. It’s temporary, but it’s safe.”

“Temporary, like the gate?”

He gives you a long look, then gestures towards the tent you’ve been watching them shuffle people through. “Let’s get you checked out, and then we’ll get you there.”

You match his stare, setting your jaw, digging your heels in slightly. The muzzle of his rifle dips just slightly, and his eyes pinch, narrowing at you.

“I’ll only ask nicely once.”

Heart in your throat, you drop your hands, and when he gestures towards the tent again, you go. Every single part of you is shaking as you head for the canvas structure, and once you’re inside, it’s no different. It’s shockingly clean, a metal table in the middle, a smaller one to the side. “Put your bag there,” the soldier orders, that familiar stern military tone, pointing to the bigger table. “The bat, too.”

You do as you’re told, seeing from the corner of your eye that he’s still got both hands on his gun. “I’m keeping the bat,” you say over your shoulder, pulling it out from where you’d slid it between the straps of the bag, resting against your lower back. The metal rings when you set it on the table. “For the record.”

“Never said you couldn’t keep it, did I?”

“You want me to go to that shelter in the mall,” you say, sliding the bag off your shoulders, placing it next to the bat, and then turning back to the soldier, “with every other terrified person in this city, and you expect me to believe you’re gonna let me walk in with a weapon?”

The soldier’s jaw goes tight, eyes even tighter. “Strip.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take your clothes off,” he says, clearly getting exasperated. “I might let you keep the bat, but there’s no way I’m letting you into the mall shelter knowing you’ve been bitten. Strip.”

“Bitten?” you repeat, your mind sparking at the new information. “Is that how this is spreading?” To appease him, hoping he’ll give you a bit more information, you pull the hoodie off, disentangling your arms slowly. “That’s what’s turning people into those—”

The hoodie comes off, revealing your bandaged shoulder and forearm, and the gun is pointed back in your face again, a soft click reaching your ears. “You’re injured.”

“Y’know, I usually like to at least know a guy’s name before he sees me half-naked.”

He ignores you. “You’re injured.”

You heave a breath, tucking the edge of the gauze around your arm back into place. “You dropped bombs on this city. I dare you to find someone out there who isn’t injured.”

The soldier just stares at you. You just stare back.

“Take the bandages off,” he orders, and your hands curl into fists. “I need to see.”

“Tell me your name first,” you counter, still holding his gaze.

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“I’m aware; you’re the one holding the gun. But I also know you’ve been taking bodies out of this tent more than you’ve been sending people to the shelter. So, again, tell me your name.”

He leans back slightly, takes a deep breath, eyes darting to the side before meeting yours again. “Corporal Nicholas Cowan, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” you repeat, almost laughing. “That’s a bit much, but—”

“The bandages.”

“Okay, okay.”

Carefully, you peel back the gauze on your shoulder. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches or anything, and you’d slathered it with some kind of ointment in the first aid kit. It still looks pretty awful, and the tape along the edge of the bandage has left little indents in your skin, but it’s definitely healing. Your arm is next, that wound fresher, and it starts to bleed as soon as you pull the gauze away. Cowan gives you a new piece of gauze a moment later, tossing it onto the table between you rather than handing it right to you. “What happened?”

“I was in the bookstore, down on South Street, when you all decided to start dropping bombs. Fucking lucky a bookshelf didn’t fall on my head.”

He still has the gun pointed at you, though the grip is slightly more relaxed, and he circles you slowly, eyes glued to your shoulder. “Those look like claw marks.”

“That’s because they are.”

“So that happened before the bombs.”

“It did.”

“I’m supposed to shoot, the moment I see anything like that. I have orders.”

“It’s not a bite.”

“I know that.” He swallows so hard you can see his throat bob. “They haven’t figured it all out. The bite seems to make it happen faster, but I don’t know if—”

“I’ll tell you what, Corporal,” you interrupt, reaching for your bag, pulling the first aid kit out and fishing out new bandages, “I start to turn into one of those things, and I give you my full permission to blow my fucking brains out.” Cowan balks, his eyes widening for a moment as he stares back at you. “But for the record, it’s been seven days, and I’m still here, faculties intact. So, politely, go fuck yourself, and just let me through the gate.”

+

He doesn’t.

Cowan lets you redress, once your bandages have been hastily rewrapped; you’d protested and he told you they’d give you proper treatment at the shelter. Once that was done, you grabbed your pack — and the bat, which Cowan barely seemed to notice — and he grabbed you roughly by the arm, dragging you out of the tent and steering you towards one of the armoured trucks parked at the fence.

You’re all but stuffed inside, and Cowan gets into the passenger’s seat, a masked soldier behind the wheel. “The mall,” he says simply, and the soldier just nods, and the engine rumbles to life, pulling away from the chain link and heading back into the city.

You keep the bat in your lap as they drive, your eyes glued to the window, to the mess that now only partially resembles Boston. You’d seen enough of the destruction running through the streets, but the truck takes a few pathways you hadn’t. Some roads aren’t as destroyed, obviously not targeted by the bombs, and the asphalt is even, still intact. There’s no getting past the bodies, however, and that pulls your eyes away, staring down at your bruised and dirty hands, wrapped around the bat.

When the truck stops outside the mall, the driver doesn’t get out. You lift your head then, taking in the space around you. It’s more of the same, but the mall looks mostly undisturbed, except for the broken windows, the burned displays. Cowan slides out of the passenger’s side, pulls open your door a moment later. “Let’s go.”

There are three more soldiers standing at the entrance, and as Cowan starts to lead you through, one of them stops you, lifting a hand. “You can’t take that in there,” the soldier says, pointing to the bat. “Give it here.”

“No.”

Cowan sighs, turning back to you, waving off the soldier. “C’mon, just—”

“No,” you say again, your voice harder. “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m walking around this city without it.”

“You’re safe in the mall,” Cowan says, nearly rolling his eyes at you, but you just lift a brow. “It’s a shelter, and we’re patrolling from the outside.” He points over his shoulder, and sure enough, you see a few more armoured trucks rolling across the street, armed soldiers trailing behind it. Like it makes a difference.

You almost laugh. “Nowhere is safe anymore.” You tighten your grip on the bat. “You really think your chain link fence is gonna save us from those things?”

He gives you another one of those hard stares, but relents, waving off the other soldiers and grabbing the handle on your bag, all but dragging you through the entrance. “If she attacks someone, it’s on you, Cowan!” one of the soldier’s shouts, and he just grumbles under his breath.

“Do me a favour,” he says to you as he releases you, making you stumble a step before he falls into step beside you, “don’t be more trouble than you’re worth.”

“And what am I worth, Corporal?”

“You’re alive, and you’re not one of them,” he says, and you don’t miss the thread of…is that hope, in his voice? “So that makes you worth something.”

He’s quiet, the rest of the way. There’s no electricity, the overhead fluorescents dark, and Cowan clicks on a flashlight, lighting your path deeper into the mall. There’s the whir of generators, as you get closer, big lights that looks like they were taken from construction sites. You see the food court has been turned into a makeshift hospital, and Cowan tells you the big department store on the main level is where you’ll sleep, for the time being.

There aren’t that many people, which makes your throat go a little thick. How many people have died, how many have turned, how many made it out of Boston before they put up the fence?

Cowan takes your arm again as you walk towards the food court, calling for someone as you get closer. “Deanna! I got one for you.”

An older lady, maybe late fifties, pokes her head out from behind one of the triage curtains. Her face is both kind and harsh at the same time, bright green eyes, grey-streaked hair pulled into a long ponytail, blood-stained scrubs and a tool belt around her waist that’s filled with medical instruments instead of actual tools. It almost makes you laugh.

“Must be special,” she says, her voice a little gravelly as she approaches you, wiping her hands on her pants. “You don’t usually escort them all the way down here, Nicky.” Her eyes drop to the bat in your hands and her brows raise. “Or let them come in armed.”

Once she’s close enough, Cowan releases you and takes Deanna by the arm, steering her off to the side. You stand there awkwardly, the bat banging against your leg. Your forearm is a little sore, and you’re half-sure it’s soaked through the bandages you’d haphazardly retied after Cowan’s inspection. You glance over at the pair a few times, seeing them both shooting you looks before turning back to each other. Deanna looks confused, then upset, then almost forgiving. You can’t quite figure out Cowan’s expression.

After a few minutes, she just nods, and Cowan turns on his heel, heading back in the direction you came, leaving you alone. Deanna gives you a once-over as she walks towards you again, putting a warm hand on your back and starting to steer you towards one of the curtains. “Let’s get you cleaned up, honey.”

She leads you behind one of the curtains, then another, and once you’re in the little makeshift room, she pulls another curtain into place. “Nicky said we need to be quick about this,” she says, leaning up on her toes to peer over the curtains, assumedly to see if anyone is coming. “And quiet.”

“Okay.”

You let her take your bag, set it on the chair that’s set to the side. You’re reluctant to let go of the bat, but when you finally let her take it, she puts it beside you on the cot. “You’ve been out there this whole time?” she asks, her voice just above a whisper. You nod. “Even the bombs?” Another nod. “Show me where you’re hurt.”

You hold your breath as you peel off the hoodie. You were right, your arm has bled through the bandage, and your shoulder aches with the movement. Deanna doesn’t say a word at first, her brow furrowed as she looks you over.

She tends to your arm first, wiping the blood from your skin, using some sort of glue to close the wound before she wraps it in fresh gauze. She circles you slowly, just like Cowan had, and you hear her sharp inhale when she sees your shoulder. “What have we here?” She wipes at more of the blood, and the sting makes you tense, your hand twitching towards the bat at your side. “What did that?”

“…boyfriend.”

You look over your shoulder to see her staring at you, a look that toes the line between sympathy and fear on her face. “Was he…”

You give a slight nod. “He was.”

“And is he…?”

“Not anymore.”

Her brows raise. “You did that?”

Another nod. “I did that.”

She blows out a breath, shaking her head side to side. “Damn, girl. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

It’s the first time you’ve actually laughed since your birthday.

They give you some clothes, stuff that actually fits, pilfered from one of the stores. Toiletries even, and you spend far too much time brushing your teeth. No showers, unfortunately, but the pack of baby wipes you’re offered instead makes up for it. It nearly makes you cry to see your skin clean of the dust and ash and blood.

They give you food, too. A grocery bag filled with non-perishables, more granola bars and cans of soup and whatnot. You try not to chug an entire bottle of water when they give you a second bag filled with drinks; not just water, but sports drinks, random cans of pop, clearly raided from the mall vending machines. And a hot meal, courtesy of one of the food court hot plates. It’s some kind of stew, noodles and meat and veggies, and for a moment, all you can think about is the Thai food that was waiting on your kitchen counter.

Feels like a lifetime ago.

Deanna walks you to the department store, gives your name to one of the soldier’s standing guard. He points you in the right direction, and she goes with you, a steady hand on your back, until you find the cot you’ve been assigned, tucked in the corner of the section where all the towels would have been, the displays still up on the walls. “We took them all already,” she tells you, giving you a half-grin as she picks up the blanket on your cot, unfolding the fabric. “Those extra-plush suckers make great bandages.”

You’re quiet, tucking your bag and your food and clothing under the cot. They’d refilled your first aid kit, too. Your knees are almost shaking as you lower yourself onto the edge of the bed, and the relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming. Tears spring in your eyes, but you don’t have the energy to wipe them away.

“Get some sleep, honey,” she tells you, and puts a soft hand on your shoulder as you slip sideways, collapsing onto the pillow. “You’ll be safe. Sleep as much as you need.”

She pulls the blankets over you, and it’s silly, but you clutch the bat to your chest. You’d wiped it down, too, cleaned the blood and dirt from the metal. Sleep takes hold as soon as you let your eyes close, and you pray no nightmares follow.

PREV | NEXT

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #comment reply #kay talks to people

[kisabesworld]

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ☆ .　 .

anyways thinking ab comforting s2 kenny<3

this is so short i apologize

warnings: swearing, angry-ish Kenny, mentions of beatings and blood.

(au where sarita never existed.)

he’d be struggling after the events at howes. trying to keep the group together and such. he’d been yelling more lately, and everyone in the group could tell he was close to his breaking point. clem was the one to ask if you could go and talk to him.

she walked up to you away from the others before speaking. “I know kenny likes you, better than the others. I’m still little. he won’t listen to me.” she explains. you simply smile, patting her on the head. you assured her you’d help out.

you walk into the tent where he’d holed up. he wasn’t facing you, but you could somehow already see the scowl on his face.

“what’d I tell you, leave me the fuck alo-!” he turned his head, his eyes widening when he spotted who had entered. he stuttered out an apology. “s-sorry. didn’t realize who ya were.” he explains, his voice trailing off. you smile awkwardly at him. “sorry. came to check on ya, ken.” you say softly, sitting down next to him. you could feel your heart jump in your chest at the way he looked at you. he sighs, turning to stare at the side of the tent once again.

“i’m-“ he starts, his usually gruff voice sounding even rougher than usual. “i’m okay. okay as i can be with all this- shit.” he explains, looking off to the side as he shifts his weight. you look over at the man. despite being beaten half to death and having a bloody bandage over his eye, you couldn’t say you were scared of him. even when he yelled, when he beat carver to death, you weren’t scared. you knew kenny was, at heart, a gentle man.

you reach your hand out, pressing it to his where he braced himself on the floor. you saw him tense, before turning to you. you couldn’t tell if he was blushing, or if there was excess blood covering his face. you smile softly at him, before leaning against him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“you’re doing good, ken.” you say softly. you didn’t have to look at him to know he was surprised. he didn’t say a word, but you could feel his body relaxing. you can feel his once panicked breathing evening out. you pause before speaking again. “everyone.. they look up to you. clem. and-“ you stop, taking a breath. “lee. and duck, and katjaa. they’d be proud. proud of who you’ve become, and how you’re leading us.” you could feel his body tense, and you wait for him to explode, afraid you said something wrong.

you relax as you feel his muscled arms encircle your body. his face finds shelter in the crook of your neck. you can feel the wetness of tears. you hesitate before wrapping your arms around him. you can feel him practically melt into your body.

you stay like that for a while, letting the man cry. he needed it. kenny was one of the strongest people you knew. eventually you feel him pull you down into the blankets below, laying you down with him as he continued to embrace you. his tears had stopped, or so you thought, and his breathing was slowing down.

you closed your eyes as you realized kenny was asleep. deciding you’d let yourself drift off, as well.

hi hello i hope y’all enjoyed:)) i’ve been in a weird place with my writing for a while, and i’m so glad i’m back<33

#twdg x reader #kenny twdg #twd kenny #kenny x reader #kenny twdg x reader #kenny twdg fluff #boatgod #i’m bad at this #oops #i need a hug #twd #twdg #twdg telltale #telltale games #telltale the walking dead

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 Illusion (Woosan) 🔞

Synopsis: As a joke San’s friends set him up with an escort. Except he falls for the beautiful man he can never have

WC: 3700

Tags: Rich Boy San, Escort Wooyoung, Public Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Top San, Bottom Wooyoung, Brief Homophobic Language, Light Bondage, Polite Suggestion of Sommophilia

A/N: This is the escort fic of which I spoke. It wasn’t one of the better performers. Let’s see what y’all think. Bonus Content can be found here

Wooyoung rested his head on the doorframe as he watched San leave. They were both getting tired of this. Forget tired. Exhausted. Wooyoung knew he would always be San’s dirty little secret. If San expected to keep the life he knew, he had to pretend Wooyoung didn’t exist. His family had only just accepted that he was gay. Now they were on the hunt for a “suitable husband”, as San called it, for him. Wooyoung scoffed as he closed the door. It was the 21st century. San should’ve been able to pick who he wanted to be with. The Chois didn’t see it that way. They were old money- very, very old money and dragged all the traditions that came along with it. Then Wooyoung’s phone dinged in his pocket.

I miss you already, baby. Check your nightstand. 💕

Wooyoung didn’t remember anything being on his nightstand when they left the bedroom. Yet there was a carefully wrapped box sitting there waiting for him. Wooyoung opened it and pulled out a watch. It was a limited edition Rolex. Wooyoung knew they were almost impossible to get. Of course, this was Choi San, not some random person off the street. There was an inscription on the back.

Love you until the end of time - Your Sannie.

Wooyoung quickly texted him back.

WTF? I don’t believe you!

San: I love you too, baby :)

Wooyoung: This is too much & you know it.

San: NOTHING is too much for you. You know that.

Wooyoung furiously wiped the tears out of his eyes. The watch was beautiful and he wouldn’t be lying when he said one of his clients bought it for him. Except that San wasn’t a client anymore. He was the love of Wooyoung’s goddamn life.

When can you come back?

Wooyoung had given up on sounding desperate.

I can sneak away tomorrow night. Take you to dinner?

Wooyoung almost dropped his phone. They weren’t supposed to go out. They could risk being seen and then San’s parents would freak. Even if they didn’t find out that Wooyoung was an escort, he wasn’t someone they’d already vetted.

Dinner?

San: It’s our 6 month anniversary. I want to take you out. Then maybe we’ll make love for hours when we get back, but I expect you to be wearing my gift.

Wooyoung: Make love? Who are you & what have you done with San? LOL

San: I might be a lil stoned.

San had confessed to getting high when he got back from seeing Wooyoung. He claimed it made the transition back to who he was supposed to be easier. Wooyoung had chastised him, but it hadn’t done much. Wooyoung knew would make his drinks a little stronger after San left. It was completely unhealthy, but neither of them had anyone they could confide in.

Wooyoung: Go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow night.

San: I love you so much, baby.

Wooyoung: I love you too.

San sent a long string of hearts and kissy face emojis. Wooyoung returned with a heart and a kiss. He carefully put the watch in the box and back on his nightstand. The sheets were still a mess from earlier. Wooyoung had started insisting they put a towel down so he didn’t have to change them every time. He knew he should shower, but he didn’t feel like it. He simply dropped his robe on the floor and crawled into bed naked. Wooyoung had ridden San hard earlier, so the pillows smelled like San’s hair. He buried his face in one and let the aroma seep into his nostrils. It was more than just his shampoo and cologne. It was him. Why did this have to be so fucking complicated? Why was he still playing by their rules? Wooyoung would’ve told his parents to fuck off a long time ago. Of course, San genuinely loved his parents. Wooyoung didn’t. They’d kicked him out of the house when he came out and he’d made his own way in the world since.

Wooyoung’s good looks were how he got picked up by a pimp when he was 17. He lied about his age and no one bothered to check (more likely didn’t care). He slowly saved up enough to buy his way out and try his luck on his own. A few coy smiles and well placed compliments got him in the door with a much higher class clientele. Now he was 25 with an enviable list of clients and a 5 figure price tag for one “date”. Several of San’s friends had hired him for San’s birthday to pretend to be a blind date. The joke ended up on them because not only did the date go extremely well, San became one of Wooyoung’s clients.

Feelings didn’t get involved until they’d been seeing each other twice a week for almost a month. Wooyoung had stopped charging him after only a few times when it became obvious they both enjoyed the sex as more than just escort and client. San was the first one to confess. They were sweaty and half asleep, both on their 3rd or 4th orgasm of the night when San let slip “I love you”. Wooyoung had stretched and rolled on top of San, telling him that he loved him back. Somehow they’d worked up the energy to have sex again and fell asleep with San still inside Wooyoung.

Wooyoung hugged the pillow and sighed.

“Maybe someday,”

The next night Wooyoung was fixing his tie and about to put on his watch when he heard a key in the door. He’d given San a key to save them both the annoyance of having to buzz him up every time.

“And what if I’m not ready?” Wooyoung called from the bedroom.

“Then I guess I’d just have to take you before we left,” San replied. He was wearing the same dark gray suit and sapphire blue tie he’d worn on the night they met.

“If I didn’t already have all my clothes on, then I’d most definitely take you up on that,” Wooyoung kissed him.

“Haven’t put my present on yet?” San noticed the watch in Wooyoung’s hand.

“Maybe I was going to let you put it on me,” he held out his arm and San slid the watch on his wrist.

“Perfect fit,” he grinned.

“Impressive,” Wooyoung smiled back

“I remembered you have delicate wrists,” San took Wooyoung’s hands and wrapped them around his waist. He was bigger than Wooyoung and had initially been hesitant to go hard in bed, but Wooyoung had proved he was more than able to handle him.

“Weren’t you going to take me out?” he asked.

“I am. I might just be skipping ahead to what we’ll be doing in here later,” San kissed Wooyoung’s neck.

“Slut,” Wooyoung giggled.

“Proud of it,” he grinned.

San took Wooyoung to the same restaurant they’d gone to the first time.

“Ah, Mr Choi,” the host said when they arrived.

“I apologize that we’re a little late,” he said.

“Don’t worry. I’ll show you to the rest of your party,” he replied.

“Party?” San asked.

“Oh, I didn’t know it was supposed to be a surprise. I’m sorry,” he said, leading them through the restaurant. San was almost crushing Wooyoung’s hand. This could only mean one thing…

“Mom, Dad, hi,” San wasn’t hiding his surprise very well.

“San, you didn’t tell us you’d be here tonight,” his mom said.

“Um, yeah, it was kind of a last minute thing,” he replied. Wooyoung was pretty sure he was losing circulation.

“Who’s this?” His dad asked.

“I’m Wooyoung. San’s friends introduced us at his birthday party,” Wooyoung held out his hand. San’s dad shook it and his mom gave a demure nod.

“Maybe we should just go,” San said anxiously.

“We can stay. If your parents don’t mind,” Wooyoung squeezed San’s hand.

“Not at all. Please sit,” his mom said. San pulled out the chair for Wooyoung and he gracefully sat down. He didn’t end up with a client list full of closeted rich guys because he didn’t know how to handle himself in five star restaurants in front of lesser royalty. San sat next to him and couldn’t stop rubbing Wooyoung’s thigh. Wooyoung gave him a calm down look.

“So Wooyoung, what do you do?” Mr Choi asked.

“I’m a social planner,” he replied.

“What's that?” Mrs Choi asked.

“It’s like a personal assistant, but I manage the social calendars of select clients. It’s a bit of a niche market, but I enjoy it,” he replied, taking a sip of wine.

“I don’t suppose we could hire you,” she smiled.

“Unfortunately I’m fully booked, but if you ever need a recommendation, I’m sure I can help,” Wooyoung returned the smile.

“I don’t feel well. Excuse me,” San practically bolted for the bathroom. Wooyoung got up and followed him.

“I can’t believe they’re here. They’re fucking here. All I wanted was a nice dinner with you and then to be able to go back…” San started babbling.

“Baby, breathe,” Wooyoung caught him by the shoulders. “Let me handle this.”

“A social planner? That’s a hell of a way to spin it,” San said.

“If you keep letting me spin it, I’ll have them begging me to be their son in law by dessert. I don’t charge $10,000 a night because I can’t charm men away from their money. However, I can’t do it if you look like you’re 10 seconds away from heart failure for the rest of dinner. Okay?” Wooyoung told him.

“Okay,” San nodded.

“Then we’ll go back to my place and I’ll take you nice and slow. I’ll savor every inch of that perfect cock of yours. I’ll have you whining for me,” Wooyoung slid his fingers down the front of San’s pants. “I’ll have you whimpering ‘Wooyoungie, please. Please let me touch you’.” He flicked at San’s belt buckle with his thumb and weaved his belt loose. He wrapped his other arm around San’s shoulders. Wooyoung could feel San’s erection slowly growing near his fingers.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Sannie? You want me on top of you, slowly riding you, with you completely helpless. You remember the first time I tied you up and how hard you came. Then I sucked you off and made you come for me again. Then I got you hard again and finally let you touch me. You remember that,” Wooyoung could feel the tip of San’s dick in between his index and middle fingers. San was panting, but this time it was from trying not to come simply by listening to Wooyoung. “Do you want me to get you off, Sannie?”

“Please,” he begged, digging his fingers into Wooyoung’s back. Wooyoung steered them into a stall and deftly unzipped San’s pants with his thumb.

“You have to be quiet. We can’t attract attention,” Wooyoung’s lips barely grazed San’s ear. San whined. “Good boy.”

Wooyoung gripped the tip of San’s cock between his fingers and rested his thumb under the head. San jumped.

“You have to hold still, too,” Wooyoung whispered. San tightened his grip on Wooyoung’s back and nodded into his shoulder. Wooyoung deliberately massaged San’s dick with his thumb. He whimpered and whined into Wooyoung’s neck. “I wish I could see your pink cock right now. How pretty it is. How slick it is. How it’s shaking and just waiting for me to impale myself on it. I might be getting a little hard thinking about having it filling me up - feeling just how good you stretch me and how it’s almost too much, but not quite.” Wooyoung carefully pressed his hips against San’s thigh so he could feel Wooyoung’s own erection starting to bloom.

“Wooyoungie, please…” San’s eyes were starting to water.

“No crying, darling. Your parents will already have enough questions. I don’t want to have to explain why I made you cry,” Wooyoung pressed harder with his thumb. San jerked and grunted. “I think we’ve been in here long enough.” Wooyoung ran his thumb over the tip, dipping into the slit like he knew San loved. San came bucking against Wooyoung’s fingers and squeezing tears out of his eyes.

“That’s my good Sannie,” Wooyoung cooed as San spilled come on his fingers. San muffled his moans in Wooyoung’s neck. San finished and Wooyoung let go, wiping them down with toilet paper. Wooyoung gave him a quick check for any rogue come stains. He zipped San back in when he determined everything was satisfactory. San’s hands were shaking while he washed them.

“You still look terrible,” Wooyoung said.

“I’m trying not to,” he breathed.

“Let me handle it. Smile, nod, and let your parents pay for dinner,” Wooyoung told him. “This was my job, baby. At least before I became a kept man.”

“Okay,” San breathed.

“Thank you,” Wooyoung kissed him. “Come on.” He led his half fucked out half painfully anxious lover back to the table.

“Everything okay? We were beginning to worry,” Mrs Choi said.

“I’m fine,” San coughed. “Just fine.”

“Honestly, this is a little embarrassing, but this is only our second date. I know San’s birthday was a while ago, but we could never find a good time to meet up. We weren’t expecting to run into you tonight,” Wooyoung smiled the dazzling smile that got men into bed with him and paying for his penthouse.

“San, you never mentioned that you met someone,” Mr Choi said.

“Like he said, it’s only our second date,” San replied.

“How do you know San’s friends?” Mrs Choi asked.

“I met Yeosang a while ago. I suppose he thought San and I would be a good fit,” Wooyoung told her. It wasn’t a total lie. Yeosang had initially contacted him and paid the deposit for their joke. His other friends Yunho and Mingi had made up the difference.

“Mom, is this really…?” San started. Wooyoung squeezed his knee under the table.

“It’s fine,” he replied. Parental interrogation was old hat in his world. At least they weren’t going to call him a worthless faggot. He assumed.

“What about your family?” Mr Choi asked.

“Unfortunately my parents and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. I haven’t spoken to them in years and that’s for the best. It’s a shame, really. They pushed away their only child,” Wooyoung stroked San’s knee with his index finger. He knew how to spin anything. Now he was an abandoned only child who somehow had the manners of someone raised at San’s level.

“That’s such a shame. I can’t imagine not having any contact with your child,” Mrs Choi said. Got her. Wooyoung always knew the moment he got his hooks in someone. San was also an only child.

“I’ve gotten used to it. There’s something to be said for learning how to survive on your own in the world,” he replied.

They continued through the rest of dinner, Wooyoung easily fielding all of San’s parents’ questions. He even made a show of trying to pay. By the time San and his dad left to pick up the respective cars from the valet, Wooyoung and Mrs Choi were quite comfortable with each other.

“I certainly wasn’t expecting to meet San’s date tonight, but it was very nice to meet you,” she said.

“I admit, it was a bit awkward to have a ‘meet the parents’ on the second date,” Wooyoung replied with an easy smile.

“San has always been a bit high strung,” she said.

“I noticed, but I promise to take good care of him,” Wooyoung told her.

“Thank you. He needs someone like you in his life. His friends can still get a little...wild,” Mrs Choi sighed.

“Don’t I know it,” Wooyoung’s tone didn’t give away anything. Wooyoung never gave up anything he didn’t want to give. The cars pulled up and their respective partners came to get them.

“It was a pleasure to meet you both,” Wooyoung said as they left.

“I’ll be back later,” San mumbled in their direction.

“Do you need me to drive?” Wooyoung asked when they got in the car.

“No,” San replied.

“I had your mother eating out of my hand so stop panicking,” Wooyoung told him. “And unofficial permission to date you. You should be tap dancing right now.”

“It’s just...they just...I’m scared…” San said as he put the car in gear.

“What are you afraid of? Tell your Wooyoungie,” he looked over at San.

“They’ll find out that you’re...an escort,” San finished.

“Was an escort,” Wooyoung replied. “Currently you’re paying all my bills.”

“I love you so much. I’m terrified they’ll find out the truth,” San put his hand on Wooyoung’s thigh. Wooyoung tucked a piece of hair behind San’s ear.

“Let’s go home and I’ll make you feel better. You still want that, right?” Wooyoung asked. San nodded.

“Then your Wooyoungie will strip you out of that suit, tie you to the bed, and take you until you can’t stand it anymore. You’re free to cry as much as you want this time, Sannie. We don’t have to make any excuses why tears are coming out of those beautiful brown eyes.”

“I’m trying to drive, Wooyoung,” San huffed.

“Do you want me to stop?” Wooyoung cocked his head.

A beat of silence.

“No,” the other man replied.

“Good,” Wooyoung slid his hand up almost onto San’s cock as he leaned over and undid his pants.

“What are you doing?” San asked.

“Just releasing the pressure a bit,” Wooyoung’s smile curved all the way up to his impeccably sculpted brows. He pulled his hand back away from San’s crotch. “And the best part is you don’t have to leave tonight. You can stay and I can wake you up in the middle of the night sucking your dick. In the morning I might let you fuck me into the mattress. The options are endless, Sannie. Maybe you’ll wake up and decide to slide into me while I’m asleep. Then I’ll wake up filled with your cock.”

“You...you’d let me do that?” San had started to sweat a little and his boner was threatening to expand completely out of his pants.

“You know my limits. That’s not one of them,” Wooyoung replied.

“What if I start to...you know...fuck you in your sleep?” San ventured.

“I’m a light sleeper. It wouldn’t take much to wake me up. It would be a great way to wake up, though,” Wooyoung winked at him.

“I…” San’s brain had all but stopped working. Wooyoung kept smiling.

San practically carried Wooyoung up to his apartment. The concierges had learned to look the other way a long time ago when they saw Wooyoung.

“Tie me up, baby. Please,” San breathed when they got upstairs.

“It would be my pleasure,” Wooyoung purred. He carefully pulled the silk ties out from under the mattress and San obediently lied on his back. Wooyoung swiftly tied him down and sat on his thighs. He lazily ran a finger up San’s quivering dick. Precome was dripping down the tip.

“You want your Wooyoungie that much, Sannie?” Wooyoung swirled the sticky liquid in circles around the tip.

“Yes,” San replied. Wooyoung could see his chest starting to heave. He slithered up San’s body to his mouth.

“I’m gonna make you cry, sweetheart,” he kissed his lover hard. He nipped at San’s earlobe before he sat back up and generously lubed San’s cock. He slowly lowered himself down going only a fraction of an inch at a time. San was already whining. “Did I not satisfy you earlier?”

“You did,” he replied.

“Then why do you sound so needy?” Wooyoung asked as he bottomed out.

“Need...you…” San panted.

“I knew that,” Wooyoung slid his hands up San’s bound arms. “You always need me.”

“Mmhmm,” San nodded as Wooyoung kissed him. He pressed his chest against San’s and slightly bucked his hips. San grunted. Wooyoung took San’s lower lip between his teeth and pulled slightly before he sat back up. He began slowly grinding his ass down on San’s cock.

“You want to touch me, don’t you darling?” Wooyoung braced his hands on San’s thighs, arching his back and exposing his entire chest and hardened cock.

“Yes,” San squeaked.

“How badly do you want to touch me? Enough that I should untie you?” Wooyoung looked down at him.

“N-no, wanna come l-like this,” he stuttered.

“If you’re sure,” Wooyoung ran one hand down his own torso and traced the tip of his dick with his finger. It came back wet with precome. “You want a taste?”

“Please?” San’s pupils were blown wide with desire.

“Open your mouth and stick out that talented tongue of yours,” Wooyoung instructed. San did as he was told and Wooyoung dragged his finger down the center of San’s tongue.

“Taste good?” he smirked.

“More?” San whined.

“No, my love. That’s all you get,” Wooyoung brushed his wet finger down San’s cheek. Then San’s eyes started to water. Wooyoung pulled his hand back and kept slowly working San’s dick. “Now is my baby getting desperate?”

“Uh huh,” San noised.

“How desperate?” Wooyoung prompted.

“Wanna c-come h-hard. Inside you,” the the other man breathed.

“Of course you’re going to come inside me, silly boy,” Wooyoung watched San’s hands flex against the restraints. If he really wanted to, he could get loose. They both enjoyed the illusion more, though.

“P-pound you,” he gasped.

“You want to pound me? You want to wreck me on your cock? What if I let you?” Wooyoung asked. San looked up at him. Wooyoung untied San’s wrists and then his ankles. San flipped them over and began slamming into Wooyoung. He was practically snarling while he fucked him. Wooyoung dug his nails into San’s back every time he hit his prostate. He heard a cracking sound, but wasn’t quite sure what it was. He was too focused on the cock ramming his ass.

“Fu-uck,” he grunted as he started to come all over both of them. San was still growling and bucking into him then fell on top of Wooyoung when he started coming. They were practically glued to each other when they finished.

“Uh, Woo,” San said.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“I think I broke the headboard,” San replied sheepishly. Wooyoung looked up and sure enough there was a sizable crack roughly where San’s hand had been.

“Well, so much for making love when we got back,” he laughed.

“At least you were wearing my gift,” San held up Wooyoung’s arm.

“We got it half right,” Wooyoung smiled.

“I love you, Wooyoungie,”

“I love you too, Sannie,”

#ateez hard thoughts #ateez fanfic #ateez hard hours #minors dni #ateez smut #wooyoung x San #Jung Wooyoung x Choi San #woosan #just fucking write 2k24 #bonus content

[ofsappho]

Heartless CHAPTER 8.5

🔞 Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience

-

You and Ghost get into a fight when he refuses to go dancing with you

-

Hello. I know it’s been a while 😭😭😭 I’m so so so sorry. Thank you all again for your patience. This was supposed to be one big chapter, but I thought I’d post what I have now just to make everyone happier while I work on the rest. A lot of smut in the next chapter. Hope y’all enjoy. YES THIS IS THE SET UP FOR GETTING DICKED DOWN BY COWBOY HAT GHOST. PLEASE BEAR WITH ME.

If one were to go off your husband’s tone, they’d think you just walked out of the bathroom in a stained brown paper bag. “You’re not goin’ out,” Ghost says after re-locating his jaw to its natural position under his balaclava.

“Hm. Thank you for your input, Ghost, but I wasn’t aware that I’d asked.”

You spin around with a huff and march back into the bathroom to examine your appearance, flinging the door open with such force that it slams into the wall.

Before you can shut it behind you, maybe lock it just to piss him off, your husband braces a veiny forearm on the doorframe and leans in. “You’re not. Not like that.”

“Why? What’s wrong with the way I look?” You ask as you go in with more blue glitter on your eyelids.

“You know what I mean.” His voice rumbles gruff and low.

And you can see his eyes looking at your ass through your cutoff denim shorts in the mirror. “Am I ugly? You don’t like it?”

Said shorts make your legs look fifteen miles long and are cut almost indecently short, accentuating your full hips and flattering your tummy. To fit the night's theme, you have on a very nice push-up bra with a white crop top tied in a bow under your boobs. And black cowboy boots, of course.

You have a matching hat somewhere…

Ghost rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’…” He sighs.

“Gorgeous, doll. Don’t pout. C’mere.” Then he reaches out and snags you by the waistband of your shorts, pulling you into his tall frame. You go easily, unable to resist him even if you wanted to.

Ghost tugs his balaclava down to chastely kiss your cheek. “Prettiest bird I’ve ever seen.” Please, like you can’t feel him pawing your butt with a gloved hand.

You rock yourself back, barely grinding against him. “Then I’m going out. Like this,” You tell him. You bat his hands aside to face him, your nose inches away from his mask. “You can come with me if that would make you feel better.”

Did Ghost really expect you would be content to twiddle your thumbs at the barracks and not explore London? You were pleasantly surprised to find a thriving line dance scene in this part of the world, and doing silly little dances while sort of drunk to cheesy country music sounds like your idea of a good time.

So this lovely Saturday night, you decided, ‘Why the fuck not?’ You can handle your sore back tomorrow.  And now you’re trying to convince your stubborn mountain of a husband to tag along.

Ghost releases you so quickly that you stumble and have to catch yourself. “I don’t dance,” He says in a flat, deeply unenthusiastic voice.

“Please? It’ll be fun!” This might be a little cliche, but you’ve never gone on a date with him before. You’ve spent your time hanging around him and his team, wherever they may be, and yeah, you signed up for that…

But you want a date. You want overpriced drinks and holding his hand as you walk down the street. Something more. That doesn’t seem as unreasonable as he’s making it out to be.

“I don’t dance.” He turns away without looking twice and strides out into the bedroom. Ghost’s coldness hurts more than his rejection.

You don’t understand why you care so much about something so small. If he were anyone else, you’d take the L, move on, and go where you’re appreciated. “I wouldn’t even make you-“ You try, still staring at his back and wishing he’d meet your gaze.

But you don’t want someone else. You want him, just for the night. Have you asked him for anything else before? You haven’t.

“No.” Oh, is Ghost suddenly too good to be seen with you in public? Marrying you under false pretenses is fine, but God fucking forbid you go to a bar together?

“But-“

He snorts. “Fuck no.” He strips off his gloves before tossing them on the bedside table, clearly uninterested in discussing this further. “Christ, woman. Don’t look at me like that. Can’t you take no for an answer?”

You look at yourself again in the mirror. Blue eyeshadow, long, fluttery fake eyelashes. Pink lipgloss dabbed on your mouth. And glitter on your eyelids and cheekbones, like a goddamn fairy.

You’re too beautiful to be upset and too beautiful to sit around doing nothing with a man who couldn’t give less of a fuck.

Where is your cowboy hat?

You find it buried in a suitcase. “Ugh. Why are you being such an inconsiderate asshole? Go fuck yourself,” You snap as you set the hat neatly atop your hair. Then you grab your phone and send a couple of messages. Soap might be free, and you’d even settle for Sergeant Garrick or Alejandro.

You have your IDs stashed in your bra, along with some pounds. You do a once-over in the mirror and brush some imaginary lint off your cleavage.

“Where are you-“

You cut him off. “Out. If you won’t dance with me, I’ll find someone who will.” Someone who won’t make you want to cry, whose dismissal won’t feel so awful. You’re not interested in testing out the durability of your mascara.

“Love-“ You can hear his heavy footsteps heading your way.

Unfortunately for him, you’re already in the living room, making a beeline straight for your front door.

Your phone dings.

“Alejandro is free. I’ll see you later, baby. Don’t wait up,” You call over your shoulder, too upset to look back.

Your mouth presses into a flat, pinched line. You’ll get so drunk you won’t remember this fight and exhaust yourself dancing, and tomorrow, you can go back to pretending like you don’t care about Simon.

-

Music pounds in your ears. A man croons over guitars and banjos and a trilling piano in a thick Southern accent as Colonel Vargas turns you around the dance floor of this American-themed pub. The place is so over-the-top that you find it charming - everyone’s dressed like you, in cowboy hats and boots, and you hear more than a few lousy imitation American accents. Very quaint.

Blue and magenta lights drape all of the dancers in a riotous rainbow of color. There’s a mix of clumsy young folks your age, out for a cheeky pint with the lads, so to speak, and older regulars who came here for the same reason you did; to dance.

Alejandro has a very respectful hand on the small of your back as he effortlessly guides you side to side, forward and back.

You relax and let yourself sway with his pace, your feet moving perfectly in time, even once you stop consciously thinking about it. “You’re good at this!” You say loud enough so he can hear you over the music.

Alejandro flashes a white-toothed grin at you from under the brim of his black hat, the band trimmed in shining sterling silver.

“I’d hope so. Back home, in Las Almas, we go dancing a lot. Rudy and I.” He falls silent to guide you past a few people conducting themselves far less elegantly than the two of you.

You feel as though you’ve just stumbled on some great secret and found worthy by the keepers.

“Rudy?”

Alejandro’s face is a sight to behold. You can see a red tinge on his tanned cheeks under the lights. “My, uh, how do you say it? Los Vaqueros. He is my… vaquero.” Cowboy. His dark eyes glimmer, and you understand. Alejandro and his Rudy are continents apart, and you can taste their chemistry from where you stand. You feel it thrumming under Alejandro’s skin, like the mere mention of Rudy is enough to bring him to life in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Back, back, there you go. Out and-“ He lets go of your other hand and pulls back, leaving you plenty of space.

Your hair fans out around you as you twirl towards him on the balls of your feet. “Spin. Very smooth, Colonel,” You compliment. One of his arms wraps around your waist, and the other folds gracefully over your chest.

You untangle your limbs from Alejandro as if you’ve been dance partners for years. “Sounds like you haven’t seen your cowboy in a while.”

“I haven’t. Our jobs keep us busy,” He says. His voice is quiet, a timid undercurrent of sound that you can barely hear over the speakers.

“He serves?”

Girls covered in dark orange tan and shimmering body lotion spill onto the dance floor in a mess of giggles. Alejandro deftly pulls you out of their chaotic path before you fall over them on your ass.

“We served together,” He says as he dips you with a solid arm supporting your back.

Rudy must make Alejandro so happy. “How romantic.” Ghost would never smile like the Colonel does. But what would Simon look like if he were so happy? Would his voice soften? Would he dance with you, even alone in your apartment?

“Sometimes.” Your dance partner catches your hat right before it slips off your head.

You squeeze his shoulder in gratitude. “He sounds like a wonderful man. I hope I get to meet him one day.” 

“Stick around long enough, and you might.”

“Well, then I’ll plan on it.”

The song ends, and something less suited to two-stepping plays next.

The two of you have drinks on a table next to the dance floor. You’re not worried about anyone tampering with them; Alejandro has already scared off any fellow who so much as looked your way. “He’d like you,” He murmurs to himself.

You have your Corona with lime, Alejandro has been working on a glass of expensive tequila all night, sipping it as delicately as if he were drinking tea.

He’s looking at you funny. The way you’re chugging this beer is probably not helping. You finish it and wince at the taste.

“You want to talk about what Lt. Riley said to make you so sad, hermanita?”

You didn’t even tell Ghost where you were going. That’s how fucking mad you were. You turned your phone off once you met with Alejandro, not wanting to see any calls or messages that would’ve broken your resolve. But there’s a worse possibility - that there aren’t any calls or messages at all.

“Not really.” You let the empty bottle thump as you drop it on the sticky, barely clean table.

His disinterest isn’t supposed to be a bad thing. Ghost could be cruel, or unkind, or abusive. You’re very lucky he isn’t any of that.

Kind, handsome, and affectionate in his own way is a hell of an improvement. For a moment, you feel ashamed that you want more. So what if he hates dancing enough to curse at you over it? So what if he doesn’t know who you are, the things you like and don’t like, your favorite movies, or why you avoid your mother’s calls?

You busy yourself with looking at everyone else so you don’t have to meet Alejandro’s knowing gaze. “Sí. Whatever you say,” He sighs into his tequila. Hopefully, that’s the end of the questioning.

Of course, it isn’t. “That one is… Rudy doesn’t like El Espectro.” Alejandro’s brow furrows as he thinks over his following words. “But I wouldn’t want anyone else on my side.” There’s more than a little respect in his voice and the kind of confidence in your husband that makes you want to be a bit more confident, too.

“Sometimes I think he wants me on his side. Then I remember that he’s a stranger, really, and I’m fucking projecting. Projecting that he’ll ever want me more than, you know, normal.” Maybe the beer is making you chattier than usual. You can feel shit you’d never say out loud just flow from your mouth.

Alejandro snorts. “He definitely wants you. We all know that. It’s very clear,” He quips, snapping you straight out of your vulnerability.

“Ugh, shut up,” You tell him as you blush a bright red under your makeup and knock your elbow into one of his buff arms.

He leers at you across the table, waggling his dark eyebrows and grinning once you start giggling. “Why do you think Soap has those new earplugs, eh?”

“Gross!” In revenge, you make a play for his drink. You don’t love anything harder than a glass of wine, but you’ll make an exception to spite Alejandro.

He laughs, holding his glass above his head where you can’t reach it. “I’m just playing!” Alejandro waits until you’re sulking in your seat before setting it down. “I won’t tell you you’re wrong, necessarily. But- but I think you’re underestimating him. Lots of people do. Ghost always gets the jump on ‘em. He might get the jump on you.” You gaze longingly at the remnants of his tequila. 

“Whatever. I don’t want to talk about him anymore. It’ll just ruin my night. I need another drink.” That will solve your problems, at least temporarily. You’re not supposed to drink on your meds, but technically you’ve already started. In for a penny, in for a pound. And those rules are just suggestions, not hard restrictions.

The very friendly bartender with a thick British accent you can barely understand and nice eyeliner hands you one lemon drop shot, then another after you down the first. It burns like lightning in your esophagus. But the burn eventually turns into a pleasant tingle, warming you from head to toe.

You’re working on your third shot when Alejandro catches up to you. “Careful,” He calls over your shoulder.

You wave away his concern, another drink already in hand. This one is a rum and Coke, way too heavy on the rum. Did the pretty bartender do that on purpose, one girl to another? You like her even more.

The next song comes on - something loud and awful, its catchy beat punctuated by dubstep rooster crows.

“Come on, I fucking love this song,” You say, just barely slurring your syllables. “I’m not gonna shake my ass alone.”

-

GHOST POV

Your phone is off.

Ghost is embarrassed to admit he’s checked every hour since you’ve been gone. At least three hours, now bordering on four. And he knows your phone is off because when he calls, it goes straight to your fuckin’ voicemail. Which you haven’t set up yet, so he’s stuck listening to some stupid robot telling him to “leave a message after the tone.”

It’s driving him almost as mad as you are. When you get back - not if, when, the second thing he’s going to make you do is change that goddamn voicemail message.

The first thing is something along the lines of “make you sorry.” Ghost hasn’t ironed out the details yet. No matter. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

It’s dark out. It’s been dark out this whole time. You left with the sunset at your back.

While he knows Col. Vargas is with you, London is large. You’ve never been here before. Col. Vargas ain’t half bad with a map, but he’s not from around these parts either.

Maybe you never made it to… wherever you were going. How the fuck would Ghost know? How the fuck would anyone know?

He’s even angrier with himself that he was too much of a prick to listen when you mentioned it.

In the privacy of your quarters, Ghost pulls his mask off to run his hands through his shorn hair. The hair you cut.

It’s so quiet when he’s alone. This is the first time since- since you married him that he’s been alone.

You hum. A lot. Or you listen to music on your dinky wired earbuds, and he catches the sounds of your foot tapping along.

You snore, though not loudly. He’d never tell you, and he’s certainly slept under worse conditions. But it’s… nicer to kit up for the day, to brush his teeth and roll on his socks, knowing someone there will be waiting when he gets back.

Fuck.

Did you take the Tube? Buy a ticket? Oyster cards are cheaper, but you wouldn’t know that. Ghost should’ve told you. He should’ve been at your side.

He’s watched you struggle with the unfamiliar currency. You had all sorts of odd American notions about coins and exchange rates. Ghost had to correct you twice. After that, he secretly swapped out some of your dollar bills for pounds so that you’d be alright no matter what.

He left you with more than enough for a cab there and back. But what if the cabby overcharged you after hearing your accent? What if-

It’s a major metropolitan area. Criminals abound. Kidnappers driving ‘round cabs, stalkers, nonces. Statistically, at least one serial killer or two.

God-fucking-damn it.

You could be dead in a ditch, all because he didn’t want to go dancing. In hindsight, it doesn’t seem worth the quarrel.

This place is too quiet without you in it. He can’t stand to sit here in silence a second longer, staring at the lack of notifications on his phone and seeing shadows in the corners of the room. Closing his eyes won’t chase them away - he’s tried.

Simon only sees you covered in blood, a hole in your pretty head. Or duct tape over your mouth and your clothes ripped off, or you lost and alone in some alley, never to come home. Another name on the list of people he’s-

That’s enough of that.

He slips his gloves on, then pulls his daily wear mask over his head. Ghost has been choosing the balaclava more often. It’s something softer and a little civilian for you.

Not like you’re even here to appreciate it, he grumbles internally.

He runs the last moments he saw you over in his head a few times. You said Vargas was free, implying there may have been other options, but the Colonel was the first to respond. Ghost will eat his mask if Sgt. MacTavish wasn’t one of those other options.

The front door slams into the wall with more force than necessary. It makes a satisfyingly loud bang.

As Ghost picks his way through corridors he knows like the back of his hand, he thinks he should have told you again how beautiful you were. You would have left with a smile and kiss instead of a cold scowl.

He’s only being a good husband that watches out for you. That’s it. Ghost takes pride in being good at damn near everything, other than driving, so it’s natural for him to get worked up. Worked up is the wrong phrase. That implies that he’s agitated. He’s not agitated.

Is that a trace of your perfume he smells? Couldn’t be. Doesn’t make sense. Perfume doesn’t linger that long in the air. Ghost can smell gunpowder from a kilometer away and old blood three city blocks over.

And you. The scent is too faint for his comfort. If he can’t touch you soon, can’t gorge his eyes on your face and leave teeth marks in your skin, something’s gonna break.

Ghost leaves a boot print on the door to the communal bunks as he kicks it open. “Sgt,” He calls out curtly.

Surely, man-to-man, Soap can be reasoned with?

“Ah, so you’ve decided to show your face. Well, mask.”

Apparently not.

Irritation prickles down Ghost’s spine. “So that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

Soap finally condescends to get out of his bunk and stare Ghost down like he’s shit on the bottom of the sergeant’s shoe. “You’re a right eejit, Lt,” The other man snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ghost doesn’t have time for this. “Where’d she go?”

“Fuck should I tell you for?”

His patience and self-control and restraint are hanging by a fucking thread, and Johnny’s disdain is like the edge of sharp scissors against it. Is Ghost the only person on this goddamn planet who cares about your well-being? Including yourself?

You’d be displeased if Ghost got your best friend’s blood under his nails. Very displeased. Simon holds onto that reminder for dear life.

“You out your fuckin’ mind? She could be-, “ At this rate, Ghost will never snap at you again. One go at this circus is more than enough for him.

“Ain’t my job tae find your wife,” Soap growls as he sticks a finger in Ghost’s face.

The sergeant is wasting precious fucking time treating Ghost like he’s the bad guy, and you could be gone by now. Ghost has bigger fucking priorities.

Simon misses America - which is something he never thought he’d think. England is full of his ghosts, moments away from breaking out of their graves. In your homeland, you were safe.

“You’re supposed to be her best mate. You don’t know where she is?”

Soap gnashes his teeth, his eyes glinting with fury. “Should fuckin’ kill you, you know that? Awa’ an’ bile yer heid.”

“I’ll come back and beat you black and blue after I find her.” Ghost’s brain teems with swarming, sticky thoughts, blacker than an oil slick. He needs- he’s not sure why he can’t breathe. His heart rate picks up, and he doesn’t know why and it needs to not do that.

He needs you.

“Worry about yourself, Ghost. I won’t need tae do a goddamn thing. She’ll have you on your knees like a dog.” Soap pauses. “You made her fucking cry.” His words hang in the air like a noose around Ghost’s neck.

“Wasn’t tryin’ to,” Simon retorts. Then he shuts his mouth and thanks God that the mask hides his face. He sounds like a whiny, immature brat and certainly feels like one. Not a man, not the kind of man he should be for you.

“I told you not tae hurt her.”

Ghost remembers. With vivid clarity. “…” On the tip of his tongue hangs the thought that Soap hadn’t needed to. Ghost took one good look at you in that dress, the simpering sweetness in your eyes replaced by razor-sharp steel in an instant, and he knew he could never hurt you.

But what Soap meant is that he’d trusted Ghost with someone precious, and today, that trust was shattered. “Aye, so ya can put a shot in some poor sucker’s head from 2,500 meters, but ya can’t spend time with the woman you married? And be fuckin’ polite to her?” The sergeant’s tone is so caustic he could use it to clean a Scorpion’s engine.

Simon is familiar with guilt. Guilt has been his companion his whole life. The kind of guilt that can never be cleaned because the people he wronged won’t come back.

This is a new kind of guilt. One with the hope of absolution. It makes him deeply uncomfortable, almost nauseous.

“…I can’t make it up to her if I’m not with her.”

That tiny concession still isn’t enough. “Useless. Absolutely fuckin’ useless,” Soap mutters.

“Johnny, you ‘bout done takin’ the piss out of me?”

“Right now, that’s Sgt. MacTavish to you, Lt.”

Dammit. “Sgt. MacTavish. Sir.” There’s blue glitter on the sink back home from where you were dusting it across your face. Pretty shade of blue. But Ghost had turned away when you stormed out, so he can’t remember how it looked on you.  “Please.” Did it run when you cried? He hopes not. You shouldn’t waste tears on a bastard like him.

Soap doesn’t speak for some time.

Simon feels some odd, heart-wrenching, panicky desperation build and build, his hands grow clammy under the gloves.

His phone buzzes, and for a second, Ghost hopes it’s you. But it’s not - Soap’s sent him an address. Some shitty little pub not more than a half-hour drive.

“There. Don’t come back until you’ve proper apologized. An’ if you make her cry again? I’ll dummy-cord ya head to ya hand since you’ve lost your goddamn mind.”

Under Ghost’s mask, there’s the tiniest smile.

Soap claps him on the shoulder. “Now get out of here.”

-

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[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: If This Is Love, You Gotta Ride For Me {4}

Title: If This Is Love, You Gotta Ride For Me {4}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Heavy Angst, Cursing, Violence, Heartbreak, Blood, TW: Cancer Talk, TW: Murder, TW: Cancer Death, TW: Mentions of Sexual Assult, TW: Mention of Attempted Sexual Assault (Not graphic nor successful), PLENTY OF WORDS, Plot Heavy

Words: 9.4k

Summary: They say the truth will set you free but these truths can kill. Will revenge be enough?

Note: We're almost there. 1 more part to go.

As always, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!

****NOT Edited/Proofread****

Previous: If This Is Love, I Don’t Want It {1} | If This Is Love, You Need To Prove It {2} | If This Is Love, You Need To Mean It {3} |

-Lewis-

That was it then. He’d lost you. He could see it in your eyes. Those damn expressive angel eyes that always bored into him, always haunted him, always crippled him. He guessed they’d haunt him for the rest of his life now. He’d dream of them, envision them, and miss them. He didn’t know how he’d move on; he didn’t see a way to, but he also knew that when you’d made up your mind you made it up for good, and rarely if ever was it changeable.

His phone sounded with another notification. He expected it to be Aleeza, but it was the fellas group chat.

MSG Miles: I feel like we should be there when you tell old bitty to kick rocks.

MSG Andrew: Or to make sure she don’t tie your ass up and have her way with you. I totally see her being a Mrs. Robinson on 1000.

MSG Daniel: Things any better with Y/N? If you want I can put in the good word.

He sighed feeling more than thankful he had them. Throughout his life, they’d remained loyal and never fake. He was grateful they were there for mostly all the highs and even more of the lows. This low though really felt all-consuming.

MSG: Nah, I can handle the old bitty. I’ll show y’all the security footage later if she gets outta pocket.

MSG Miles: For entertainment purposes I kinda want her to get outta pocket and get shamed. Can’t wait for this cold dish of revenge Y/N is planning on serving.

MSG Daniel: She was def wild for all that shit she’s done. You don’t ever try to take anyone’s life for stupid reasons like dick.

MSG Andrew: Guess you can officially say you got these chicks wildin’ the fuck out over yo’ dick.

He knew it was a joke and any other time he probably would have laughed at it, only right now, it was too fresh—too raw. He was right though. Before he’d had situations with fans and groupies who’d done some wild shit to get his attention or even get close, but this took the cake. He wasn’t proud at all.

MSG: Shit’s wild.

MSG Daniel: How’s Y/N? frfr.

MSG: Not good. She’s not taking care of herself, avoiding the situation when it comes to us, and pushing me away. Shit’s not good. She looks at me and it feels like I’m looking at a stranger.

MSG Miles: That’s tough.

MSG Daniel: You gotta understand tho. Imagine finding all this shit out which changes things but still being on the receiving end of all that hurt. She must feel betrayed.

MSG Andrew: The whole virginity thing too is crazy. Give her time. It’s fresh right now. She probably hasn’t registered it all.

He knew Andrew was right, he could even see Daniel’s reasons too, but it didn’t make it any easier for him. The worst part for him was that he was trying to protect you the best way he thought of at that time, he was trying to protect you from any more danger after your accident and instead, he’d ended up shielding you from nothing. He’d caused the damage, but he couldn’t contain the fallout.

The self-loathing part of him wanted you to run away from him and never look back. He’d always worried that he’d only bring heartache to anyone he truly loved and here he was doing just that. Groaning, he rubbed the back of his neck trying to take away the pounding that had settled in since you walked into his bedroom in Monaco. He didn’t know how he was going to make it through the rest of the week.

MSG Daniel: Did she tell you the plan?

MSG: Nope.

He wanted to support you in this but rather than inserting himself he decided to let you take lead. If you wanted him to be involved you’d tell him. He knew better than to hold too tightly because it would have the opposite effect.

The sound of his doorbell rang throughout the house, and he knew who it was. He’d expected her. Even though he’d texted her his decision he knew she wouldn’t stand for it. He pulled up the security app on his phone and sighed seeing her standing there in a matching white pencil skirt suit. Her professionally dyed hair reflected the sun until it shined. She looked irritated and he decided then to irritate her some more.

A minute stretched and she waited. Before 2 minutes passed, she rang the bell again and again and again. She was really beyond getting on his nerves. He’d had enough. Tapping the microphone he began.

“What do you want Aleeza?”

Her head spun around before looking up right into the inconspicuous camera there. His security team thought it was the best spot to catch people unaware.

“Really Lewis!? Open the fucking door. You’re really pissing me off!”

He scoffed, “Why would I care? You gave me an ultimatum, actually, my blackmail options and I promptly gave you your response in the allotted time, swiftly go fuck yourself, lady. My dick isn’t for sale, lone or rental.”

Her jaw dropped. “Lewis! I suggest you think this through and think about your future and career. Think about everything you’re putting at risk.”

“Fuck! Shut up! No matter what you say or do my answer won’t change. It’s a no. I don’t want you in any way. You disgust me.”

She looked like she could blast off into the air any minute. He could actually see the steam coming out of her ears. Either she wasn’t used to being told no, or she’d really expected him to agree.

“You’re going to regret this come Friday. I swear it! Her blood is on your hands.”

He saw red! “Shut the fuck up! I swear to everything I value in this world, her being a primary one, if you touch her or hire someone else to touch even one skin follicle on her I will make you regret the day you ever put Jordan Y/L/N in your sights. I hold grudges and have a lot of money at my disposal and those two things spell trouble for people like you. Leave before I call my security to escort you off the property. Also don’t come back.”

She shoved her middle finger in the air while glaring at the camera then she stomped off. He watched her get into her car and slap and punch the steering wheel as she jerked back and forth. She must have been screaming and losing her shit. She’d played her ultimate hand—the four of a kind but he’d outplayed her with his royal flush.

As she rolled off his property he pulled up his messages with you.

MSG: From this moment be extra careful. She’s livid and feels she has nothing to lose. People like that are wild cards and wild cards are dangerous.

A few minutes passed before you replied.

MSG AngelEyes: Let the bitch come.

Your confidence and rage came through each word and though he was worried he also fell deeper in love with you because of them.

~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

Rage is a quiet beast. It was one of the trickiest motherfuckers out there. There’d be times you think you’d tamed it and found a way to simmer it down only for a fragment of a word or a look made it flare. Rage was something familiar to you. You’d felt it when your mother passed, felt the crushing and suffocating feeling of it coiling within you, felt it trying to take over everything until it had. That rage changed your life.

This was the second time you’d dealt with it. You thought you had a better handle on it, but you’d come to realize that it was in your veins, in your blood, embedded in you. Shit, you were rage. when you least expected it the beast raged, and it took everything to rein it in. You had to because it wasn’t time to fully unleash it yet.

So Monday passed in a whirl. You worked, took meetings, did interviews, made plans for the team, and even the last-minute foundation event that you were in charge of planning. You were surprised no one saw the difference in you. It was your father who looked at you with an extra layer of worry. You had to assure him you were fine while making a note to make it up to him Friday night. By Friday night, he was going to see the scales of the chimera he’d married.

Tuesday came and mirrored Monday. You piled more and more on needing a constant distraction from the war in your head and the ache in your heart. This week was extra torturous because you were supposed to be at one of Lewis’ races to stand in for your father and you had no idea how you were going to make it through. Looking at him had become next to impossible, being anywhere near him was too much. You had no hope it would go smoothly.

When Wednesday came around and you landed in Barcelona, you told yourself to just get through the rest of the week. You were practically shutting down already. It took everything in you to get through the interviews. Took all of your composure and high media training to smile and laugh for the cameras. It took even more strength to take pictures with Lewis with his hand at the small of your back.

Your body still remembered him, still craved him, but your brain and heart were at war, leaving you in a chaotic state of panic. He must have noticed because he tried to put you on the end with George in between you as often as he could. Even that small action made your heart reach for him though your brain scoffed at it claiming it was the least he could do.

As you watched his race, you felt dead and suspected you looked it too. You noticed his distraction during the race, noticed he was driving very unlike himself but rather than not caring you found yourself getting upset about it.

“Maybe it’s time for Jordan to think about ending his contract if this is the quality of racing he’s giving us.”

Aleeza’s voice had the impact of nails running down a chalkboard. Instantly you reared around at her. She stood there in a mini skirt that was several decades too young for her and a blouse that was almost see-through. Trashy, you thought. You envisioned yourself Naruto running to her to then headbutting her then slamming her face into the cemented floor of the paddock and jumping on her back with your knee between her shoulder blades while placing her head in a headlock until she took her last breath.

It was then you realized you hadn’t tamed shit. It was in full control.

“Uh hello! What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N?”

Snapping back to reality, you saw she stared at you with confusion and amusement. Your head twitched with the effort it took to contain this beast you wanted to unleash in every way.

“See, I told Jordan that giving you too much responsibility wouldn’t be good for the brand or the family.”

She sighed and watched the screen.

“He definitely doesn’t look to be doing well today. Any idea why?”

“Oh, how would I know that now Aleeza? However—you don’t look to be doing well either. Your skin looks quite—dry.”

Aleeza gasped and clapped her hand on her cheek.

“Maybe you should make an appointment with my esthetician. She’d never let me go out looking like this.”

Aleeza glared at you then she took one step too close. It was a step you mirrored. “I can also give you the number to an age-appropriate stylist who won’t have you out here looking foul.”

You gave her the once over furthering her humiliation.

“When your father isn’t around the real you comes out.”

“Says the scaly slithering snake to the human.”

She looked as if she wanted to hit you and you prayed she did.

“I wish you would bitch. Make my fucking day.”

Aleeza must have seen you really didn’t give two fucks because she backed off a few seconds later.

“Enjoy this week, Y/N. Enjoy it well,” Aleeza said before she walked off.

The effort it took to flip back to the unbothered professional should have been huge, but it felt like lite work and that scared you a little.

“Don’t allow anyone, man, woman, or child, but especially a man turn you into something or someone you are not!”

Your mother’s words came back to you then and you clung to them more fiercely than you’d ever hung on to anything before. Her sage words held new meaning now. Was that how she’d taken the high road when it came to Aleeza back in the day? Was that how she’d remained so classy? You missed her even more now than ever.

By the time Friday came around and the fundraiser event arrived, you were back in London and more than ready to get the night over with. You looked yourself over once more then nodded at your reflection. This was as good as it was gonna get, you said to yourself. A message from your father told you of his arrival then you quickly made your way down to the waiting limo.

Once you got in, you smiled adoringly at your father.

“Wow, you look absolutely beautiful darling.”

“Thanks dad. You’re looking very debonair too.”

He smiled then straightened his tie and posed. You giggled and shook your head.

“The ladies won’t know what hit 'em.”

He chuckled but Aleeza’s hating ass cleared her throat exaggeratedly.

“Really?!”

You rolled your eyes. “Figure of speech. Really Aleeza, since you like to dress so young you’d think you’d keep your vocabulary just as young too.”

A small hiss escaped her. An actual hiss. The bitch was showing more and more of her true form with each passing day, you thought.

“Ladies,” your father warned.

You raised your hands up in defeat. “Kidding dad, you know I joke a lot.”

Aleeza glared at you from across the limo, clearly not interested in pretending anymore. Good, you thought. Tonight was going to be her big reveal.  Once the three of you stepped out of the limo in front of the flashing cameras you smiled, waved, and portrayed the perfect family. The majority of the photographers wanted pics of you and your father together sans Aleeza and that suit you fine. It was the perfect beginning of the night, starve the bitch of what she craved most—attention.

As the event went on, you smiled, took interviews, joked, and dazzled always remaining the center of the group discussion. Plenty of attendees complimented you on not only how beautiful you looked but how knowledgeable you were about a plethora of things not only F1 related. Those compliments were what brought you the most flattery. You’d always prized your brain over your beauty. Your mother taught you that beauty could fade and be taken away, but your intelligence was always yours.

More than halfway through the event your back was turned to the crowd as you guzzled another glass of champagne. They weren’t helping with anything really.

“Look who cleans up like an actual princess of F1.”

You turned to the teasing words and smiled at Miles. “Ha ha, funny.”

“You look great, Y/N,” Andrew said leaning in to kiss your cheek.

Miles and Daniel mirrored his actions and sentiments.

“Thank you.”

Lewis came into view, and he looked good—too good. The black tuxedo he wore looked made for him and probably was. From the look of it, you could tell it was probably a McQueen piece. He always could cut a good suit and Lewis loved how they fit him. You got lost scanning his attire for a few moments before you looked away and grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

“Hi,” he quietly said.

You nodded and looked around the room.

“Glad you guys could make it,” you said.

“Of course. We said we had your back and if she really plans on making her move tonight then nowhere else we’d rather be,” Daniel said.

Being the amazing hacker—no information investigator he was, Daniel had been able to tap into her phone and clone it. Whenever she got a message so did you and she’d gotten plenty of messages over the week. She was very busy making plans for your downfall. It was insane how she moved. It was like she was highly intelligent or had bouts of it but was basically a basic dumb bitch. Who made illegal plans through cellphones? Who tried to off someone more than once? Who used the same person the 2nd time as the 1st? It was confusing as shit. Was she smart or stupid?

“I think she will. She’s said plenty of shit that hints at me not making it past this week.”

Lewis turned to the bar giving the group his back as he hung his head. You glanced at them hoping they could fill in what that was. Daniel, Miles, and Andrew all solemnly shook their heads. You wondered if he was still beating himself up about not placing in the last race. The race he practically had the worst finish in his entire career. He was always the hardest on himself.

A thought hit you then. Was he putting everything on his shoulders and beating himself up?

“This is dangerous,” Lewis said before he sighed. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine,” you dismissed.

“You can’t use yourself as bait.”

“There are so many of my guys on her tonight, no one will get near her. I promise bro.”

You felt safe knowing Daniel had assigned an additional 8 guys to bodyguard you. They were guys he’d personally chosen so you knew he trusted them and their ability to get the job done. A message came through on your phone and you knew it wasn’t for you. It was a message to Aleeza from whoever “Dom” was.

MSG Dom: Everything is ready. You sure you want sharp.

MSG Aleeza: Definitely. I want it to be excruciating.

MSG Dom: Such a waste. She’s hot. Maybe a little fun before it’s done?

MSG Aleeza: I don’t give a shit what else you want to do. Just get it done by midnight.

MSG Dom: Consider it done.

Your stomach rolled as you showed them the message.

“Wow,” they said in unison.

‘Yep. Anyway, enjoy yourselves, fellas. Seeing as it is my actual death day, I intend to live it up.”

You walked away and joined a group of faces you knew while trying to put the very disturbing facts in the back of your mind. When you made your speech to the crowd no one could tell anything was wrong. You were the picture of calm, grace, and professionalism. Your father oozed pride while Aleeza oozed her usual disdainful slime. It was more fun to fuck with her now so you did taunting her with glares, smiles and waves as a loving stepdaughter would. She hated it but the photographers loved it and ate it up.

Once business was finished you mingled and even allowed some of the attendees to swirl you around the dance floor. How you got through it, you had no idea. The sheer will of the heavens was not enough, it took everything above and in between. Twenty or so minutes after your father left, you looked at your phone and saw it was nearing 11:30. Deciding it was time to leave you shot Daniel a message letting him know.

As soon as you stood, Lewis approached you. The sad puppy dog look in his eyes made your belly flip and heart beat out your chest to him.

“If I don’t ask you now I’ll regret it. Can I have this dance?”

He held his hand out to you and you hesitated. So many urges filled you. Walk away, run away, slap him, stomp on his foot, crash your lips to his, and even accept his hand. You stood there unsure what to say but when a camera flash caught you from the right you realized the only thing you could do was accept it.

You placed your hand in his and tried to ignore the instant static shock that coursed through you. Sticking your finger in a socket had nothing on this feeling. Lewis led you to the sparsely spotted dance floor then wrapped his arm around you holding you firmly bit gently. He led you in a demure dance that drew the eyes of the remaining attendees. They smiled and raised their glasses to you as if blessing the possibility of this union. If only they knew, you thought.

You danced in silence for a long while as you battled the feelings bubbling within you. You couldn’t afford to fall apart now. The finish line was within sight, and you needed to remain objective.

“Can I say something?”

“What? Y—you just did.”

“Something else then?”

You nodded.

“You—ehm, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

Your eyes locked and just like that, you felt yourself being sucked in. They were simple words that should not have elicited this reaction but that had, nonetheless.

“I’m so proud of the amazing job you managed to do tonight. You never cease to amaze me, but I am always blown away by you.”

You felt the tear roll before you could stop it and that tear led to another. Lewis’ features softened and he pulled you closer wrapping his arms around you. “Angel eyes,” Lewis whispered against your ear.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, seeking refuge, and allowed yourself to cry. The way he held you tightly but so damn gently made you want to climb into his skin and allow him to comfort you until he’d erased every bad thing about the last few weeks. You wanted it so badly that it made you cry harder.

“I’m sorry,” he added voice rough with emotion.

His large, strong hands slipped lower from the middle of your back to the small apex at your tailbone. It was a small action, but it had a major impact. The erratic beat of your heart steadied and the tears that were flowing like a torrential downpour slowed to trickles. When he held you tighter against him so there was not even a microscopic speck of space between you, everything else faded.

A soft sigh fell from you as your body relaxed for the first time in days.

“I’m so sorry angel eyes. It kills me to see you like this, it kills me to know I’m the cause that had I made a different decision this may not have been such a colossal clusterfuck.”

You’d thought that same thing many times. In hindsight, it was easy to put the blame on him. If he had told you or your father from the very beginning maybe things would have been different. Or maybe Aleeza’s tight hold on your father would have made things convoluted and more complicated, maybe it would have made things worse. Maybe you would have lost your father’s trust. There were so many possibles, maybes, mights, and should haves but none of it was certain.

Your logical mind underneath all the rage, pain, and distrust knew this. It’s just when it all comes back, logic disappears and that was what happened. After blotting your tears on his fancy designer suit, you slowly took a few steps back from Lewis. His arms were reluctant to release you, but they did and when you were an arm’s length away, his hands fell to his sides.

Your eyes met and instantly you knew he had so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted you to hear but his lips remained sealed. A message on your phone brought your attention back to the task of the night. Revenge.

“I gotta go.”

With that, you slipped past him allowing your fingertips to graze his as you passed. Still, his touch sent jolts of electricity through you to rival the joules sent through a lightning strike. Forcing any thoughts that weren’t about the plan out of your head, you waved to others as you left then slipped outside. Though it appeared you were alone, you knew there were at least nine pairs of eyes on you and the panic button that was in your purse which tracked your location while recording every sound around you.

You slipped a pair of sunglasses on and then began swaying.

“Ms. Y/L/N? Are you waiting for your car?”

“M—My—car. It shoulda been ‘ere,” you heavily slurred.

“Let me find out for you. Lean against here so you don’t fall,” the attendant said.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary, Ms. Y/L/N, we are here. Right this way,” an unfamiliar voice said.

“Are you her driver?”

“Of course. Come, Ms. Y/L/N, your father has already made it home and wishes to see you.”

The man’s arm wrapped around your shoulder as he began leading you to a legit looking black car. You knew this guy wasn’t your driver and suspected it was that Dom person that Aleeza had been planning with. You allowed him to slip you into the back of the car and you immediately slumped sideways and started singing the first song that came to mind.

Why was it Britney Spears? Maybe because it was the easiest thing to sing off-key or because kidnappers and murderers wouldn’t think someone singing it would be dangerous. You had no idea but since you were running on pure instincts now, you did your best to drunkenly sing “Hit Me Baby One More Time”, you worked the panic button out of your purse and slipped it into your cleavage just in case they took your purse. The man who’d put you in the car got into the passenger side then looked back at you and laughed.

“She is hammered out of her mind. Aleeza really had her number. Are you still heartbroken sweet ‘art? Still missing someone or something between those thighs? Don’t worry I’ll fulfill all your desires in a little while. I’ll fix your loneliness.”

Your stomach churned and fear gripped your heart but again instinct kicked in and you belted the next line as loud and off-key as possible.

“My loneliness is killing me, and I!”

The men in the front laughed.

“Nah, your loneliness isn’t the one that’ll be killing you. Just wait.”

You don’t know how you did it, but you managed to be the best drunken socialite ever and the Daily Mail wasn’t around to see your Oscar-worthy performance. The whole time you tried to keep your mind off where they were taking you and what they planned to do. You focused on the fact that Daniel and his guys were tailing you and Miles had his detective friend on standby to apprehend these assholes.

When the car came to a slow rolling stop, you pretended to be passed out. As you were pulled out of the car you heard the men laughing with each other.

“Easiest job ever.”

“Tell me about it. I almost feel bad for the girl.”

“Your sister really has it out for her huh.”

“My sister is bat shit crazy and doesn’t know how to let shit go, but she is right about one thing with this bitch out the picture more money for her and to split with us.”

These guys were fucking idiots, you thought to yourself as you got all the inside information about what was going on. Worst criminals ever. Who talks about all this with the victim within earshot and alive?

“Come on it's almost midnight let’s have some fun then off her.”

“What a pity.”

You heard the clinking of belt buckles and the rustling of material, and you knew shit was about to go south. You sprang up and looked around.

“Where am I?”

“Detour,” the man you now knew as Dom and Aleeza’s brother said.

You let your head lol forward as if it were too heavy to hold.

“She’s still drunk,” the other man said snickering.

“That’s good, it’ll make this easier for you to accept.”

You saw his pants drop and you panicked, well sort of. Your heart raced wildly but your head was calm. You took in the men and looked to all the points you knew would cause the most pain. Throughout your life, you’ve gone through plenty of training and classes. Dance, piano, flute, gymnastics, media training, etiquette training, and even self-defense.

Your parents thought it was important that you knew basic survival moves in case you were ever the victim of an abduction or home invasion. What started as basic moves turned into detailed mixed martial arts training by the one man your father trusted, Hammond, your personal bodyguard, and trainer. He’d gone deep into your training and because of it, you knew how to take someone down in 6 moves or less.

Thankfully you’d never needed the use any of the in-depth moves on anyone. Kicks to the nuts and flying five fingers to the throat worked all the time. You knew you could take these idiots in under 5 moves. Before either could lay a hand on you, a phone rang.

“Goddamn it,” Dom grunted before he dug the phone out of his pocket. “OF course it’s her. What!”

You strained to hear who was talking on the other end, but nothing came through.

“I was just going to have some fun. Come on Leeza you promised. What’s it so fucking important that she’s dead by midnight? What the fuck is this some fucked up Cinderella reenactment? It’s bullshit. I’ll kill her after we’ve tried her out. A virgin with one fuck under her belt is still practically a virgin.”

He chuckled and his lackey joined in as his beady eyes looked over your body ready to pounce given the ok. You should have pressed the panic button then so Daniel and his men could be there within a minute, but you didn’t. That rage that was silently bubbling within you was no longer silent.

“Fine!”

Dom pushed a button on the phone then shoved it to you. You sat there expectantly waiting for something.

“I bet you’re wondering what is going on right now, huh? Trying to understand who they are and even why I am on the phone now.”

Aleeza giggled as if she’d won the biggest prize in the world. Yeah, laugh now bitch, I’m coming for you, you said in your head.

“Who—who is this? What’s happening?”

“Oh that’s right, you’re drunk off your ass because the man you thought was a diamond turned to be nothing but trash. The man you fell for used you and tossed you out like the trash you are.

She giggled again. “My god, it was such a good show to watch as your heart shattered into pieces on the floor and Lewis didn’t give one flying fuck.”

You were getting tired of her laughs. She sounded like a demented Cruella DeVille.

“A—Aleeza? Is that you?”

“Fucking right it’s me. I told you to enjoy this week. Did you? I hope you did because you won’t be seeing next week.”

“Wa—What are you—what do you mean?”

“For the life of me I don’t know how Jordan put you in charge of anything let alone the board, you’re as dumb as a box of nails. You didn’t see this coming at all, did you? My god, I don’t know why I’m surprised, neither did your whore of a mother.”

Your heartbeat picked up making your ears ring loudly. For a few moments, you couldn’t hear anything but the sound of your own body fighting.

“Hello? Dom, for fucks sake tell me you didn’t kill her.”

“I didn’t touch her. She looks like she’s about to pass out though.”

Again Aleeza cackled. “Your drunk brain won’t be able to put it together but don’t worry I’ll tell you 2 secrets, because you’ll be dead after you hear them and ya know dead whores tell no tales.”

You clenched your jaw and tried to control your breathing.

“I was behind your whole Lewis break up. I blackmailed him into breaking your heart in a precise way that you’d feel that pain for the rest of your life. I was there when he did it too, it was a good show. I told him either break your heart or end his career. Can you really be surprised he chose his career over you?”

She laughed.

“Is she crying? Please tell me the bitch is crying.”

The lackey bent down and looked at your face then smiled.

“She sure is.”

That only made Aleeza laugh louder. She thought you were crying tears of sadness when in fact they were tears of rage. Before, you were going to let the police handle the justice part of your revenge, but the decision was now made that your hands would deliver justice.

“So weak. If that made you cry then my 2nd secret might actually kill you. Get close, Y/N.”

A few tense moments passed in silence before Aleeza spoke again.

“I—killed—your—mother,” she whispered stretching out each word.

Your world came apart then. Your body shook as your head tried to understand. It made no sense. How was that possible?”

“How? You’re lying. My mother died from Cancer.”

“Oh, I know. Did you know that arsenic compounds can cause cancer? Matter of fact it’s classed as a group 1 carcinogen. That means science has proven that it conclusively and all the time causes cancer in humans. When I read that it only took me a few days to come up with a better plan. See I was just going to slip her some arsenic and wham bam she’s dead, but she didn’t deserve a quick death after stealing Jordan from me and living my dream for decades. So me and my big brother Dom committed to the slow game. If you give this compound little by little every day in small enough dosages that won’t harm right away but build up to kill. I was surprised it only took a year for her to actually get cancer. By then I’d run out of patience and upped the amount and well—she was gone 3 months after her diagnosis leaving your father all alone and ready for me. The rest well—is history.”

Your tears of rage were now tears of despair. This crazy bitch was so venomous, so evil that she planned and killed your mother. What the fuck was this? This couldn’t be real life. There was no way normal people went to these lengths to get what they wanted. How? Your breathing hitched and within seconds you were hyperventilating.

“Fuck Aleeza, you might have given her a heart attack.”

She only laughed louder. Your world had just fallen apart, and she was laughing as if it was the world’s funniest comedy series. This woman had single handedly ruined yours, your mothers and your father’s lives. She’d taken your mother from you leaving a chasm within you that would never be filled. Suddenly what you’d had planned for her didn’t seem like nearly enough. The bitch had to die.

“I can’t believe we got away with it. Now it’s your turn. Anyway, don’t worry about your dad, he’ll be following soon, and I’ll take good care of Lewis for you. Very good care. Bye-bye. Dom, get it done, kill the bitch.”

“You got it little sis.”

The phone beeped, ending the call and you sat there in disbelief. In your head your mother’s final day played in your mind. She’d been in so much pain, but she still kept a brave face on never giving anything away. You knew though and watching her say goodbye to you and your father broke all of you. She’d died holding both your hands her final words being, “I wish I had more time, but I love you both.”

Fresh tears filled your eyes, and you wailed feeling a whole new sense of loss. She’d taken everything from you.

“Aww, sad bitches aren’t any fun in bed,” the lackey said.

Dom however didn’t seem to care, he approached you then gripped your shoulders with both hands. As he began pushing you backward trying to make you lie down you snapped. Suddenly your knee raised and connected with his nuts. He shouted out then collapsed on top of you. Shoving him off, you bolted up in time to see the other man running toward you. You lifted your leg and connected the pointed tip of your heels under his chin in the spot where his windpipe began. The man instantly began coughing as he struggled to get air.

You jumped to your feet keeping your eyes on both of them. Dom came at you with a metal pipe swinging wildly wanting to connect with any part of you. Bobbing and weaving, you did just as Hammond taught you all those years ago. When he realized he wasn’t going to accomplish anything, he charged you taking you by surprise. His hands wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

“I was going to make this quick but fuck that. I’ll make it slow and painful. Ever been fucked in your ass gorgeous?!”

His smile was sinister and disgusting. You lifted your knee again and kicked his in his nuts for the 2nd time. Dom dropped to his knees holding his crotch.

“You’re as dumb as your sister.”

You picked up the metal pipe then smiled.

“Have you ever been fucked in your ass gorgeous?”

He looked at you in all seriousness. Before he could get one leg up, you swung the pipe and hit him right in the face. His body dropped and he writhed in pain. From the corner of your eye, you caught the other guy coming at you, but his fist connected with your cheek before you could react. It hurt like a motherfucker, but you didn’t focus on it, instead, you swung the pipe again and whacked him at his knees taking them out and sending him to the ground. You then stomped on his crotch and hit him in the back as he rolled over hoping to protect his equipment from any further attack.

You turned to Dom to give him another hit, but it was then Daniel and the bodyguards he’d assigned came running in. As you watched them overtake Dom and his partner, you saw Lewis swing the hardest punch right to the center of Dom's face breaking his nose and knocking him out completely. A true one-hit quitter. That wasn't enough though, Lewis then kicked him in the gut twice.

"You fucking wanker! You're gonna do what to her? Fuck out of here!" He finished on another kick.

Seeing the blood gushing from Dom's face only made you even more berzerk. You screamed out and turned whacking the shit out of anything that was nearby. Soon you were a raging maniac screaming, crying, and hitting what you could as the emotions ran through you.

Strong arms wrapped around you stopping you from bringing the metal pipe down on or into anything else, then the pipe was gone as Miles yanked it out your hands.

“It’s okay Y/N, I have you. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Lewis’s voice tried to break through the haze of rage and everything going on in your head, but it was barely making it through. His grip tightened and slowly the ringing in your ears stopped and his voice could be heard.

“It’s okay, I have you. It’s okay, I have you. It’s okay, I have you. It’s okay, I have you. It’s okay, I have you.”

You turned to him and saw sympathy in his eyes. One look around the room told you that they’d heard.

“You—you—you--,” you stuttered.

“We heard.”

Standing beside Daniel you saw Hammond with a solemn look on his face.

“We heard everything, Sparkle,” Hammond said.

The nickname he’d given you when you were a kid broke through everything.

“Hammond.”

You ran to him and crashed your body into his. Hammond hugged you tightly.

“It’s okay Sparkle. We’re gonna take care of this.”

He led you away and you let him because you trust him completely.

Twenty or so minutes later you were sitting outside your house in the limo with Hammond, Daniel, Miles, Andrew, and Lewis. On the ride over, Hammond had filled you in on how he’d cornered Daniel at the event thinking he was planning to do you harm only to be looped into the whole Aleeza mess which led him to take point with Daniel to make sure you were safe. You thought he was still on his vacation with his wife Yulee.

You were staring at the mansion you grew up in with so much going through your mind. Right now, you were sure your father was waiting in his office for Hammond after he made a call telling him there was something important to discuss. The plan was to present him with all the evidence without Aleeza present then call the cops to come in to haul her ass off to join her brother.

As you walked through your house, it felt like you weren’t walking at all. When you looked down you found Lewis’s hand engulfing yours. You looked over at him and found his eyes boring into you.

“I have you.”

His voice was muffled almost distorted as if this was real right now. However, you knew it was because you would never dream this up. This was a nightmare. Hammond led the way into your father’s office and when he saw all of you, he immediately stood.

“What’s going on? Y/N, are you all right?”

He must have seen the forming bruise on your cheek and your split lip. He came over to you cupped your cheeks and examined your injuries.

“Who did this to you?”

His eyes roamed around until they landed on Lewis beside you who was still holding your hand. Your father’s eyes dropped down to take in your clasped hands. The only reaction was a raised eyebrow. You wiggled free from Lewis’ hand then put yours behind your back.

“Hello, Mr. Y/L/N,” Lewis said.

“Hello. What’s going on? Why are you all here this late?”

He looked at Hammond who sighed.

“Old friend, I wish I were here under better circumstances but I’m not. You should sit down for this.”

Your father looked at you and you could see the worry and alarm etched on his face. You took his hand and led him to his chair then stood beside him and let the chips fall. Lewis was the one to lay it all out. You didn’t think you could get through it without turning into a completely different person. As he calmly explained everything beginning with Aleeza’s first approach to him you kept your father’s hand in yours. You watched as Lewis blew up his contract and possibly his own career to tell everything.

Your father shot up to his feet. “You did what to my daughter!”

He lurched forward to Lewis, but you squeezed his hand hoping to reign in his anger and bring his eyes to you. “I’m fine.”

“Fine? Honey--,” He began cupping your cheek with his free hand.

Tears pricked your eyes, but you fought them off. Now was not the time to fall apart.

“I’m all right.”

“This is crazy. Aleeza did this?”

“Yes, and there’s more and it gets crazier,” Miles said.

Lewis placed his phone down on the desk as your father sat back down. Then he pressed play and the recording from his place with Aleeza admitting everything and even propositioning him for sex while blackmailing him with his career played in its entirety. Your father’s hand went limp then.

“Oh my god,” he muttered weakly.

When the recording went silent he looked back at you. “Oh my god, sweetheart I had—I didn’t—oh god.”

He turned back around and dropped his head in his hands.

“Old friend there is more.”

Silence stretched again and they looked at you expecting you to take the lead but you couldn’t. You were so tired. Daniel stepped forward and explained the new information you’d found about Dom and their plan to kidnap then kill you. Your father’s top popped then. His anger was so evident that Hammond had to brace his arm around him to try to calm him down. When Daniel went on to tell him the plan you’d concocted and the precautions he’d taken, you could tell that your father was even more anxious.

Hammond took over to finish the story with how the night ended but placed the voice recording on the desk so your father could hear everything from when you were put in the car to when they’d shown up. In a matter of minutes you watched a man who’d always been your hero, a man who you loved more than anything, a man who’d been your crutch since your mother passed, a man who you saw as a pillar of strength crumble before your very eyes. His legs gave out and he staggered to the set of leather couches on the other side of his office and the minute he sank into the couch he was bawling with the weight of his anguish.

He was no longer this strong indestructible man and father; he was a distraught and broken husband riddled with guilt for the signs he didn’t see and the life he’d led with his wife’s murderer.

“Noooooooooo!”

He began punching the coffee table before him with no thought of injury to himself. You knew this, it was rage. The same rage that was overflowing in you, the same rage that you feared would consume you unless you let it out. However you knew if you did there would be no stopping it. Miles, Andrew, Daniel and Hammond did their best to restrain him so he couldn’t hurt himself any further. Lewis stepped in front of you peering into your eyes.

“I know you’re not okay right now so tell me how I can help.”

You bit your bottom lip which you’d just realized was shaking. After a few moments, your resolve crumpled as did your face. You tried to formulate words, but nothing came out, just a wail. Lewis instantly wrapped his arms around you pulling you into his strong arms. You were content releasing your despair until the office door swung open and you heard her voice.

“Jordy bear,” she sing-songed.”

Once she’d stepped into the office she stopped in her tracks holding a tray with one glass of dark liquid. Her words from earlier filled your head.

“Don’t worry about your dad, he’ll be following soon.”

What was a quiet beast before turned into a thundering monster. You tore yourself from Lewis and locked eyes on your prey like a predator. Once Aleeza’s eyes landed on you, you watched every emotion in the book wash across her face. When it settled on one, “Oh I’m fucked”, you pounced.

“Y/N, don’t,” Lewis shouted.

It was too late though. With speed you’d never had before you crossed the room to Aleeza who let go of the trey and shrieked. She made an attempt to turn and run but she was too slow. You yanked the bitch back by her hair then took out her legs bringing her to the floor right on her face. Keeping her disgusting hair wrapped around your fist, you pulled more while keeping your foot in the center of her back.

It was then you felt several pairs of hands pulling at you trying to get you off of her but you must have possessed the strength of a hundred men because you didn’t budge.

“Let her go!”

“No!”

Aleeza screamed louder as the voices behind you shouted even more for you to let her go. Fuck that you thought. You’d let her go when she’d departed to hell. A hand managed to yank you back so your knee came off her back, but your hand remained gripped in her hair. The force of you going back meant she came along for the ride which made her scream even more.

“Let her go!”

Suddenly all that was in your hand was the hair that was wrapped around it. It took a second or two to realize you’d yanked the bitch’s hair right out of her scalp. The bloody ends only fueled your anger making you see red completely. The hands that were holding you suddenly felt like a hindrance and you fought against them. You sent an elbow into someone’s gut, the back of your fist into someone’s nose, the back of your head into someone’s forehead then your forehead into someone’s forehead.

You then took off where Aleeza was running, a hand grabbed you, but you turned and shoved them before getting back to the scheduled program of beating this bitch into the grave. She screamed wildly as she ran. Seeing she was getting close to the steps you grabbed one of the vases in the hall and threw it at her feet. Aleeza screamed as she came crashing down. Before she could get up you jumped on her and began hitting her over and over and over. You didn’t stop for nothing and no one.

The more she screamed and begged you to stop the harder you hit her.

“Y/N, stop. You’ll kill her,” Lewis shouted as he tried to pull you back.

“Good! Like she killed my mother! Like she tried to kill me!”

Lewis grabbed your hand giving Aleeza a chance to squeeze out from under you. You elbowed him not caring where it landed then lunged for her again. As you wrapped your arms around her neck, you both toppled over the top step and then tumbled down the spiral staircase.

“Y/N!”

You were a bundle of legs and arms as you tumbled over and over. You felt the pain of every collision with the flat surface and blunt edge of the steps, but you didn’t care. Finally, your fall ended, and you lay there dazed and dizzy on the cold marble floor trying to catch your breath. As you breathed you ached but as you breathed it sounded more like a wheeze than a breath. Staring up, you thought you saw your mother’s face hovering above in the painted ceiling—her painted ceiling. You tried to raise your hand to touch her, but you ached too much. Her voice sounded then.

“Don’t allow anyone, man, woman, or child, but especially a man turn you into something or someone you are not!”

She deserves this,” you rasped. “After eve—everything she’s done to you. She killed you. She deserves to die.”

“Don’t allow anyone, man, woman, or child, but especially a man turn you into something or someone you are not!”

You bawled as you battled your wrath and the need for mercy. You didn’t know how to draw the line; you didn’t want to. You wanted her to bleed. You screamed loud and long then suddenly the all-consuming rage you’d felt the last week slowly left you as if it had found an opening to release itself.

Lewis came into view then. His mouth was moving but you heard no words. What you did hear though was a raspy “please.” As if possessed you turned toward the sound, ignoring the pain you felt. There was Aleeza crawling to the front door still trying to escape.

“Fuck—no!”

You flopped onto your belly then slowly inched toward her. It took forever but you managed to crawl over her and flip her onto her back. Her face was bloodied and bruised with both eyes swollen. She looked almost as ugly on the outside as she did inside.

“P—lease.”

“Look at me.”

Her pupils met yours through the tiny slits the swelling would allow and you saw her fear. Good you thought.

“I could kill you if I wanted to and no one here would bat an eye. They would help me dispose of your body and no one would ever think of you again because you are a pathetic, vile, and evil person who deserves to rot in hell for eternity. You spent so much fucking time hating my mother, hating me because you knew she was better than you. You knew that you were nothing but a speck of dirt on her shoe and you couldn’t stand it. She had what you never will, class and the love of so many people. You ruined so many lives. For what!!”

You raised your hand ready to hit her, but your hand was caught. Looking back, you saw your father.

“Don’t. Your mother wouldn’t want this for you. She wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“We’re never going to know what she wanted because she killed her!”

“I know. I know your rage honey, I feel it too, believe me, it is taking everything in me to not do what you’re doing but I won’t allow her to take anything else from us.”

His words were filled with so much pain, so much hate.

“I don’t know if I can daddy.”

“You can. Just take my hand,” Lewis said coming to stand beside your father.

You stared at him then looked at your father then back at Aleeza. Long moments passed with you not making any move until you saw your mother’s painting on the wall. Somehow the painter had managed to capture everything about her; her class, her beauty, her gentleness, her calm, and the pure peace she emulated. That peace washed over you and you knew it was her, it had to have been.

You took Lewis’ hand and allowed him to pull you up to brace yourself against him. As if sensing the fragile peace in the air, the police burst through the door.  You watched them grab Aleeza and haul her out. The police there took statements from everyone and confiscated the recordings for their evidence and samples of the brown liquid Aleeza was bringing in for your father.

After an hour, the foyer only had the seven of you. No one knew what to say.

“You need a hospital,” Lewis said to you.

“Please this is nothing. Hammond has put me through worse during training.”

“She’s tough,” Hammond replied with a proud smile.

Lewis nodded slowly but you could tell he was still worried.

“Tell you what I’ll get them both to the hospital for a proper exam,” Hammond compromised.

Lewis nodded with more enthusiasm.

“You gentlemen should be on your way,” your father said.

You looked at Miles, Andrew and Daniel and saw for the first time how banged up they looked.

“Oh my god, are you guys okay?”

They all backed up. “We’re good.”

It hit you then that you’d done this.

“Oh god guys I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re good. We’re going to head out,” Andrew said.

“Thank you guys for—everything.”

You locked eyes with each of them for a few moments and saw they understood just what you meant.

“That’s what fam is for,” Miles said.

You smiled then nodded. As they made their way to the door you noted how slowly Lewis walked.

“Are you okay?”

“He took an elbow to the chest, a headbutt, and a kick to the thigh,” Andrew listed.

Your jaw dropped. While he deserved maybe the headbutt for what he’d done, you felt bad about how you’d beaten him.

“I’m--,” you began.

“Don’t say it. I deserved it. It’s cool.”

“Ehm, speaking of what you deserve. I will see you bright and early in my office come Monday morning,” your father said.

Lewis took a deep breath and nodded. “Understood sir.”

The door closed and your eyes drifted back to your mother’s painting. You felt your father’s arms around you.

“She’d be proud of you. And so disappointed in myself.”

You turned to him. “Dad, you’re a victim in this. How were you to know? She played everyone.”

“I’m afraid to meet her again because I told her I’d protect you and look, I couldn’t.”

“Mom raised me with enough sense and all the tools to protect myself, plus with Hammond’s training, no one stands a chance—unless you’re a staircase. I think I may have broken a rib.”

Hammond laughed. “Let’s get you checked out. Come on,” he said as he got on your right with your father on the left. The two helped you hobble to the door.

“Lewis Hamilton, huh.”

You groaned totally not ready to have this candid conversation with him about your love life.

“He’s a little on the pretty side compared to your tastes. I have to admit I did not see that coming.”

You snorted then groaned as pain washed over you, “Neither did I, dad. Neither did I,” you said as you walked through the door and to the waiting car.

You knew this trip to the hospital was not going to be a quick in and out. You were close to crashing and honestly, you needed the rest. You were tired, your heart was tired—your soul was tired and ready to lay its burdens down.

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

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#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #if this is love you gotta ride for me 4 #if this is love series #black fanfiction

[not-goldy]

No matter what Jk does some ppl will. never. be satisfied. They will always twist what he says, what he does, especially when it comes to Jimin. It will never be enough. Like, he could literally kiss him on cam they’d still say he wasn’t into it, didn’t French kiss him but just gave him a quick peck or whatever so it means he was just doing the bare minimum blah blah blah. They could even fuck for the whole world to see they’d manage to scrutinize his thrusts and the number of sweat drops falling down his back to say he was just doing it out of curtosy lmao. If Jk and Jikook don't satisfy you why keeping up with him? Seriously, why do ppl are so keen to waste their time like this if they don’t enjoy the content they’re engaging with? 2024 is right around the corner y’all, time to check your priorities… life is short, donˋt waste it. As for me, I'm so relieved these two will have each other for the next 18 months! I can't wait for the Jikook Show, it’s going to be epic, I don’t think we’re ready lmao

Forget them, they just trolling 🤣 🤣🤣🤣🤣

This what they sent in 😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹

The jealousy and envy disguised as criticism.

They are just like Tuktukkers. They deliberately act blind and dumb and belittle JK's efforts and contributions so it's easier for them to hate on him.

"Jk couldn't attend Face promos" said with a dumb smug face in the same sentence as "just because he sings all JMs songs on his live- to promote his music to his unique fans, boost his reach, generate sales from the free ad and marketing- doesn't mean he supports him."

Naaa he should have sent a coffee truck that makes JM no money, sent food and flowers- that makes JM no money in sales for his Album whatsoever- That would have been so much better if he wanted to support JMs Album than him actually promoting his songs on live

Same people who complain Army doesn't buy Jms songs or stream his music. Same persons.

Jungkook is a sold out King and people will die to have him promote their content on his highly engaging lives- but nooooo that's not an asset to them when it comes to supporting Jm. Nope.

Even though he's shown time and again that's his way of supporting those he loves. His brother starts a business and he jumps right on live wearing his merch. Did he not get in trouble for that?

Jimin does a documentary and who shows up out of the blue to support him? Mic'd and all

Jimin is practicing for his MV and who shows up to watch and support him then too?

They call Jimin daddy but won't get off JKs Dick.

Hobi is adorable and we all want a sunshine like him- but he's so supportive Jimin chose Jungkook to do MS with 🥺

Talk of being there for Jimin🤭

And it's crazy they keep craving what others have when those others also want what Jungkook is and does for Jimin. You think Tuktukkers would be superimposing Taes face on Jikook moments if they were happy with Tuktukks dynamics?

Flowers and food- when we all know who is constantly eating with Jimin, pressuring Jimin to go out and eat with him, the one who BTS themselves call Jimin's chef,

the one doing cooking shows with him is not Hobi

It's almost as if they don't watch any content from BTS other than snippets from Twitter.

Watch Sope, Bon Voyage, Run, Episodes, lives- in full not the edits sir.

We here have a whole Ramen joke running in the Fandom because that's all JK keeps saying he eats with JM. The food buddies. Whenever Jungkook posts food you'd find JM in the comments somewhere reminiscing.

Those flowers and food gave him strength- bitch bye.

When it comes to gift giving, bts have ever complained the one person Jungkook gifts is Jimin prompting them to tease him that Jimin was his favorite out of the group.

Nevermind the snow block he went out to the mountains and brought back for him. We know in this Fandom Jungkook tones things down with Jimin when it comes onto gifts cos he'd kiss and tell and act a fool. It's common Fandom knowledge so I know he is not trying to imply Jungkook does nothing for JM.

That's toxic solo street slang rooted in fiction.

Watch content for yourself and spare us the rubbish.